Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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Roxanne lowers her tablet to her lap and turns to look out the glass balcony doors of her apartment at the spring evening. Today was one of the nicest days Metro City has seen so far, this year—temperatures in the low seventies, big fluffy clouds, warm sun, cool wind—and she can’t stop worrying.

It’s too quiet. She sighs, twirling her stylus absently between her fingers as she stares at the sunset-fire lighting up the windows of the building across the street.  

“Where are you?” she wonders, but there’s no answer. There never is, anymore.

Shaking her head, she shoves her concerns to the back of her mind—a feat which is getting increasingly difficult—and stands up to make dinner. Dinner, and then she’ll read for a bit or maybe watch a movie, and then she’ll sleep. Then wake up, breakfast, work, lunch, work, home, read, dinner again, and—this is how Roxanne’s life goes now: an absence of kidnappings, a lack of lasers, a dearth of spikes, and nervousness gnawing the base of her spine.  

If Megamind doesn’t want to kidnap her anymore, fine; she’d like to know the villain is alive, at least. Nobody’s heard anything from him in months.

Well, tomorrow is Wednesday, so Roxanne will be meeting up with Metro Man for lunch. That’ll be a break in the monotony, and who knows? He might have some news for her. She’s not holding her breath, though; nobody’s heard anything from Megamind since last July. It’s already May again, unseasonably warm and unreasonably calm.

She’s starting to miss the bad old days.

“I gotta say, Roxie,” Metro Man says the next day, as lunch is winding down, “off the record? I’m starting to get really concerned, here.”

She knows how he feels. The sick-worry feeling in the pit of her stomach hasn’t left her alone in a while. “Me too. I think you’d better widen your search.”

“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows. “I was thinking about calling it off.”

Roxanne stares at him. “You can’t be serious.”

Metro Man grimaces, but he doesn’t look like he was joking. "I don’t like it either, but…it’s been months. Might be time to try something different.”

He isn’t wrong. Nearly ten months have passed since they started looking, but nobody Roxanne has asked has seen either Megamind or Minion. She’s asked everyone she can think of—some people more than once—and her list of contacts isn’t short. Even her friends on the less-than-legal side of things are beginning to sound unsettled. 

Something is wrong. They know Megamind isn’t holed up working on a doozy of a plan because Metro Man lost his patience a while back and broke into Evil Lair—he’s known where it is for ages, though he’s always disavowed all knowledge when asked—and he had found it standing empty, with dust settling in the corners and darkened brainbots lying scattered on the floor. Neither of his nemeses were anywhere to be seen, and judging by the remains of what was in Megamind’s refrigerator, the Lair had been sitting vacant for some time.

That was before winter set in, and now it’s almost summer. Who knows what the Lair looks like now?

The worst part is that Roxanne wasn’t even able to act surprised when Metro Man told her what he’d found. She had known there was something wrong long before that; she could feel it in her bones. Hearing that the Lair was abandoned only made her worry more, especially when the mercury fell below zero and stayed there.

But what can she do but keep asking? She’s been looking, too, and all her best efforts have turned up diddly squat. Megamind hides his tracks well; even Metro Man’s x-ray vision and super-hearing haven’t turned up much. (“It’s not a generalized thing, Roxie,” he explained, months ago. “I need to know where to listen and what to listen for. If you wanted to know if he was in the Sachs building, I could tell you, but I can’t just listen for a heartbeat across the whole city.”)

(Megamind had not been in the Sachs building.)

(Roxanne had asked.)

Now she stares at the hero across from her, incredulous. “So, it’s been months, so what?” she says. “We can’t just stop looking, we can’t just—leave them out there. You just said you were worried; how can you—”

“Roxie, you know those guys.” Metro Man has both his massive hands wrapped around a latte like he’s got a chill, never mind the warm weather. “If they don’t want to be found, they won’t be.”

“Okay, that’s true, but your big solution is for us to give up?”

“No, not give up,” he replies quickly, “just…stop looking. Kinda. They probably know we’re searching for them, so they’re being careful. Maybe if we stop looking so hard, one of them will relax a little.” He shrugs, accidentally bumping his shoulder into someone carrying a tray past their table, and then he has to hyper-accelerate and reposition the coffees on the tray to keep them from falling. Being big is not always an advantage.

Roxanne’s smirking at him when he slows back down again. “Nice save, clumsy.”

“Nothing spilled,” he protests, then returns to the subject at hand. “My point is, maybe they’ll make a mistake and we’ll get a lead. False sense of security, you know?”

Roxanne shakes her head. “You are serious. I don’t believe it.”

“You got a better idea?” Metro Man stares at her, challenging, finally letting some of his frustration show. “I’d love to hear it, if you do. Nothing else has worked.”

“W—Metro Man, what if Megamind is hurt?” she asks sharply, and he looks away. “What if he’s sick? You know this wasn’t a good winter for the homeless population; what if Minion froze out there somewhere? I’d at least like to know they’re not dead.”

Metro Man’s lips are thin, but he’s still shaking his head. “He wouldn’t endanger Minion like that. No, they must’ve hidden somewhere warm, I’m not…too worried about that. But I…” He sighs. “I dunno what else to do, Roxie. Nothing’s worked and I’m out of ideas.”

Roxanne bites her lip and settles back in the booth, stares out the window at the bustling lunch-hour street. She doesn’t like it, but…

"And I’ve got a job to do,” Metro Man adds, more quietly. “And it’s, like, four times harder without him running backup behind the scenes. Doing all that and looking for him, too, it’s—I’m—I’m going outta my mind, here.”

It’s Roxanne’s turn to sigh. She knows he’s been working overtime, and he was already on-call twenty-four seven when this whole mess started. “Okay. It’s…worth trying, I guess. I’ll let the others know.” She offers him a sympathetic smile. “You’re looking better, by the way.”

He grins back, but it doesn’t look particularly genuine. “I got new under-eye concealer. Use Cle de Peau under the regular goop, blend it all in, and poof.” He twirls his wrists like a magician. “Adios, dark circles.”

Roxanne almost chokes on her coffee. “Are you serious? After all that crap you gave me about how—how ‘Narcs’ or whatever is the best brand ever, you’re switching?”

“Yeah, I know, I’m the Hero of Hypocrite City.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ll get you a tube so you can try.”

She snorts, but thanks him. Metro Man has spent his whole life in front of the camera and he knows what he’s doing. He also doesn’t care about budgets. Makeup isn’t a valid work expense, according to her boss, so if her friend wants to buy her new face goop, well, that’s fine by her.

She looks away again, out at the daylight street.  

Megamind and Minion have to be out there, somewhere. They’d never leave Metro City without telling her. She honestly believes that, even if she isn’t sure why.

They should keep looking. She wants to keep looking. But Metro Man is right: nothing else has worked. If they stop, then maybe—just maybe—Megamind will come out long enough that someone will see him. It’s the best they can hope for, even though what Roxanne didn’t tell Metro Man is that Megamind doesn’t make mistakes, not really, not when it matters.

All she can think is that he’s hurt or sick somewhere. Maybe Minion took him someplace to recover from a battle wound. Maybe they pissed off the wrong people and had to go into hiding? She doesn’t know.

And she shouldn’t even care, really, but Megamind has been such a presence in her life for such a long time that he’s become…well, sort of a friend, when push comes to shove. He's helped her out of a couple tight spots and Roxanne has helped him with his reputation in return, and she had thought maybe they were coming to a kind of understanding. She’d even quietly hoped they might someday have a relationship like the one she has with Metro Man, because on the rare occasions when Megamind wasn’t bouncing off the walls and cackling, he was…nice. Fun to talk to. Witty with a sense of humor. He’s certainly someone she wouldn’t mind being better friends with. Even when he was bouncing around, he was fun.

But now he’s gone. Vanished into thin air, as far as anyone knows. Megamind has been missing for almost a year and Roxanne sometimes wonders whether she’s entirely sane, worrying herself sick over a guy she barely knows who used to regularly kidnap and threaten her. Sure, it was all for show, but…

Anyway. Life goes on, and lunch is over, and she and Metro Man both have jobs to get back to.

She’s almost all the way to the newsroom when her cell phone rings. It’s her boss, telling her to get her ass into the office pronto so they can get her over to cover a house fire across town. They’ve already got most of the crew on the way over. “I’m coming down Lime right now, I’ll be there in five,” Roxanne promises, breaking into a jog. This is why I wear flats…

“Be there in two,” Carl tells her, and hangs up.

“Dick,” she mutters, and shoves her phone back into her purse. 

Luckily, a news van pulls up a minute later and rolls down its passenger side window. “Hey, Roxaroo, where’s the fire?” Hal calls, grinning.

Roxanne rolls her eyes and hops into the van before it’s even fully stopped moving without breaking stride. “Thanks, Hal, you’re a lifesaver.”

She’s been working with Hal since November, when Paula quit to spend more time with her kids. Hal’s a little weird but he’s a solid cameraman, and it’s a harmless sort of weird. The sort that makes ‘where’s the fire’ jokes about possible arson.  

“Yup,” Hal says happily. “Hang on tight!” He spins the wheel and they pull away.

Roxanne is willing to overlook Hal’s off-color humor in favor of the fact that he drives like the mad offspring of an immortal taxicab driver and the kind of speed demon that is literally on speed. It’s terrifying, but they haven’t gotten in any accidents so far and it can be really useful when they’re running behind and still want to arrive before anyone else from their channel. Which they do. Ha, ha, bite me, Carl, Roxanne thinks.  

“How do I look? No spinach in my teeth?” She turns to Hal and smiles.  

“Total bombshell, as always,” he tells her, barely glancing over.

It would be less weird if he didn’t sound quite so sincere all the time. Oh, well.  

Next week’s lunch date is canceled because Roxanne is swamped at work, but the following Wednesday finds her and Metro Man discussing the city’s missing supervillain over breakfast at sunrise in a diner in midtown. “Anything?” Roxanne asks. 

“Nope. Give it time, Roxie,” he says, shifting uncomfortably in the narrow booth.  

“It’s been ten months,” she replies. "It’s almost June!”

“You know what I mean. Let him get his bearings, let him relax a little.”

She folds her arms over her chest and stares at him. “How are you so certain that he’s even out there?” she says.  

Metro Man shrugs, careful this time not to upset any waiters. “Dunno. Just a hunch, I guess.”

“Ugh, fine,” Roxanne mutters. She’s grumpy because it’s early, not because she’s worried. She shouldn’t be worried. Why would she be worried?

Where are you?

Her answer, as it turns out, comes the very next day.

Morning dawns prettily enough, though the clouds are a little flatter than they’ve been for the past few days. Roxanne walks to work since the weather’s nice, but by the time she gets out that evening, those clouds have turned low and angry gray and it’s raining like there’s no tomorrow. That’s great, just fantastic, because this is Metro City in the rain; Roxanne can’t catch a cab for love or money. And she didn’t bring her umbrella with her this morning, just her windbreaker. At least it has a hood.

She takes her usual rainy shortcut home. It involves a lot of alleys, but that’s what mace is for, right? It’s not like she’s never taken a self-defense class. And the alleys in midtown Metro are reasonably safe. Honestly, she’s just lucky she lives close enough to the newsroom that walking is even a viable option.  

So she’s walking down one of the back roads, skirting puddles and potholes, trying to stay close to the sides of buildings. Her hood is up and she has her hands in her pockets—one on her knife, the other on her can of pepper spray—and she’s keeping an eye out in front of her, squinting and blinking through raindrops, when she sees a manhole cover in the middle of the next block shift up and sideways.  

She squints. What the…?

At least, she thinks it’s a manhole cover, but it’s far away and early evening and the rain is making everything gray, and she knows (from a fluff piece involving ducklings and firefighters at the beginning of her career) those covers are heavy. She stops walking and peers through the drops, and then her eyebrows fly up, because the person hauling themself up to street level has a silhouette she recognizes even from this distance, even in the rain.

She freezes. Megamind, she thinks, but no, it can’t be. It’s been almost a year, and now, two weeks after they’ve stopped searching, now he shows up? No way.

“Megamind?” She half-jumps at the sound of her own voice. She hadn’t meant to say anything; luckily, it doesn’t seem like he’s heard her. He just…walks over to the back of the café he’s next to and disappears into shadows and mist. 

“No,” Roxanne mutters, already running. He can’t just vanish again, he can’t, she won’t let him—

He’s sitting on the back step. She'd lost sight of him because he sat down so quickly, dropped out of sight behind a dumpster that was obscuring her view.

Roxanne slows and stops, then stands for a moment and stares at him. It is him; he’s unmistakable even sitting with his forehead on his knees like that, but Roxanne has never seen him out of uniform like this. He’s wearing a grubby zip-up hoodie and jeans over a pair of battered high-top sneakers that already look soaking wet. His customary gloves are missing and his knuckles are cut and bleeding where his long hands are netted over the back of his neck. Everything about him looks tired. 

“Megamind,” Roxanne says again, and he startles badly, snapping upright and staring up at her in shock. Not just tired, she realizes, equally surprised, miserable. There are heavy shadows under his eyes and in his cheeks, and the lines around his mouth are deeper than she’s ever seen them. Has he stopped eating?  

She stares. This is way worse than she was expecting. She had halfway thought that when she and Wayne found Megamind—if they found him—he would laugh at them for ever being the least bit concerned and then he’d try to blow Metro Man off the face of the earth and everything would go back to normal. It’s clear enough now, though...that’s not what’s going to happen. 

She wants to say, where have you been? but what comes out instead is, “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, all Megamind does is stare at her, big green eyes stutter-blinking against the rain coming hard and fast and turning his hoodie water-dark, his mouth a thin line over clenched teeth. Then he says, slowly, “Miss Ritchi. I…” He stops, struggling. “It’s…”

She looks around. “Where’s Minion? We assumed he’d be with you.”

Megamind lets out a sob. Just one and then he clenches his jaw shut, but it’s enough to make Roxanne’s heart skip a beat and then drop all the way to her shoes. I should have known. Minion would never let him look like this. “Is…is he going to be okay?”

Megamind bares his teeth, squeezes his eyes closed, and then, when it’s already painfully clear that he’s crying now and there’s nothing he can do about it, he presses both hands to his eyes and curls back into a ball so she won’t see his face. 

Roxanne shrugs her purse onto the step, heedless of safety and wet weather, and doesn’t even stop to think before crouching down to put her arms around him. Wow, he’s even thinner than she thought. “Megamind, oh lord. Megamind, hey. Hey. It’s okay, you just…you just let it out, okay? Just…” Oh, great, now she’s half-crying, too. Minion is the one who’s hurt? This whole time, Roxanne has only thought of Minion a few times, never seriously, because of course Minion is okay. He has to be okay. He’s Minion, he’s a rock, he’s unbreakable.  

But…yes, something happening to Minion is pretty much the only thing she can think of that could render Megamind this incoherent or push him this far into hiding. This…actually explains quite a bit, as awful as it is. She swallows desperately against the stone in her throat. “Megamind, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

He heaves in a ragged breath, lets it out in a muffled keening noise that he chokes off halfway through, gulping back, holding his breath—so he doesn’t make noise, is the only reason she can think of; but that’s even worse: not that he’s like this, but the sense that he can’t stand to be heard like this. Roxanne squeezes him. “No, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she says, trying to keep her voice as even as possible as the alien in her arms starts to rock back and forth, his shoulders jerking around silent sobs. “Breathe, it’s okay, just breathe.”

What happened? And when? Has he been alone this whole time? He would have started by trying to fix whatever it was—he would have run himself absolutely ragged, would have driven himself into the ground trying to fix it. How does grief go? Denial, anger, bargaining… Somehow, Roxanne is pretty sure Megamind hasn’t made it too far, but it’s been months.

Eventually, Megamind stops rocking, but that appears to be because he’s hyperventilated himself all the way into unconsciousness. Which…wasn’t exactly what she had meant when she told him to breathe. It’s worrying, of course, but also helpful, because it gives Roxanne a chance to quickly try and process some things. 

I’ve found Megamind. He seems unharmed, but upset. Something happened to Minion but I don’t know what.

(is minion dead? minion can’t be dead. he can’t be. do they have a mental thing? is that why megamind is so…

wrecked?)

One fact rises above the multitude of questions. She can think about the questions later, but for now… I can’t leave him out here like this. 

If she leaves to find help, she has no guarantee Megamind will still be here when she returns. Also, the rain hasn’t let up yet. It’s spring, so the nights are still cool in northern Michigan and god only knows what his immune system is like. No. If Roxanne wants to help him, then she needs to find a way to bring him home with her now. 

She slings her purse across her chest and then bends, crouches low, and puts her shoulder in Megamind’s stomach. Then she wraps her arm up around his slim waist and holds his legs steady with her other hand. After that, it’s just a matter of standing up. It’s a good thing his torso is so long and narrow, she thinks, or this would be really difficult. “Up we go,” she mutters. “Ooof  you weigh, like, a thousand pounds. Okay.”

Home isn’t far, now, and Roxanne grits her teeth and thinks wistfully of the big plush blanket thrown over the end of her bed. That’s where she wants to be right now. Under that blanket. Not thinking about Minion being hurt or sick or dead, not thinking about Megamind thrown over her shoulder. 

Tonight is a hide-from-the-world night. The rain seems all too happy to assist her, and only a few seconds later, Roxanne and Megamind are out of sight behind the mist. 

Chapter Text

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Walking with someone on your shoulders is harder work than it seems at first, and by the time Roxanne gets home, Megamind is shivering hard and Roxanne is staggering. She’s going to feel this tomorrow, but stopping isn’t an option. She has to go in the back way so nobody sees her, and then she has to walk up the stairs to the third floor, poking her head in at every landing, before she has an empty path to the elevator. Thank heaven, at least her own floor is clear when the elevator doors open. This really isn’t something she wants to explain to her neighbors.  

And he’s her friend, but she would also rather not deal with Metro Man right now. For one thing, when Megamind wakes up—whenever that will be—the presence of his arch-nemesis might not be a good idea, and Roxanne isn’t willing to risk it. But also, finders keepers. Roxanne doesn’t want Metro Man insisting Megamind stay somewhere other than at her apartment; she’d much prefer to be able to keep an eye on him. Especially now that she has an inkling of what’s going on.

She dumps Megamind unceremoniously onto her couch in a long-limbed heap, then collapses into her armchair (an orange wingback she bought on sale from IKEA. It’s as comfortable as it is ugly, and it is as ugly as sin itself. Sitting in it is bliss) and just. Breathes. Does not hyperventilate. And tries to come up with some kind of mental list of everything she’ll need to do once she’s got her breath back.

She’ll need to text Metro Man, at least. That’s easy, she can do that now. She sends him, Found Megamind. Seeing you probably not a good idea. Will keep you posted. 

Okay, that’s one thing taken care of. What else?  

Megamind will need dry clothes. That’s fine, he can borrow one of her shirts and some pajama pants for now. Maybe tomorrow she’ll hit Goodwill, or something.  

He’ll need food. What does he eat? If she remembers correctly, she’s only seen him eat…mostly sugar. What about allergies? Will she be able to get him to eat at all? She decides not to focus on this problem for now; it can wait until he’s awake.

He’ll need somewhere to sleep. Now, that’s something she can work with. She pushes herself back up to standing, stretches with a grimace, then heads to the walk-in closet she uses for storage.

Most overnight guests sleep on her sofa, but that tends not to be suitable for longer visits.  It’s not hard for Roxanne to throw together her usual ‘long-term guest bedroom’—the old collapsible bed frame and rolled-up futon mattress she slept on in college are in the very back of the closet, along with a folding screen. The bed goes along the wall of windows by the deck with the curtains half-closed and the screen goes up next to the bed for privacy, and voila! Guest ‘room.’

She’s tucking in the blankets and sheet when she hears a groan from the direction of the couch, and she pokes her head around the screen.  

Megamind is sitting up, but he’s slumped forward and is slowly massaging his hollow temples with the tips of his fingers. “Headache?” Roxanne says, tentative. He nods. “All I’ve got is Motrin, can you take that?”

Another nod. After a moment, he holds up three fingers, then goes back to rubbing the sides of his head.

“Okay, hold on.” She gets the Motrin, taps out three of the orange pills, and swings by the kitchenette to grab a glass of water, too. Then she heads back out, trying not to feel nervous. Why should she be nervous? It’s only Megamind. Only the supervillain who’s terrorized the city for the past several years.  He’s only sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes squeezed shut, pressing the heels of both hands to either side of his head.

“Hey,” Roxanne says. “I’m okay with feet on the couch, but maybe take off your shoes first.”

He blinks up at her, then stirs and moves a hand to pick at the laces, which are horribly knotted.  Roxanne stands with the pills and water, feeling awkward, but Megamind doesn’t seem to notice that she’s waiting. He gets his shoes off, then looks around for the painkillers. One thing at a time.  

(Since when does he only do one thing at a time?)

Roxanne gives him the Motrin and then retreats to the safety of her chair.  Megamind isn’t wearing any socks, and the skin on his bony toes looks white and very cold; who knows how long he’s been wearing those wet shoes. Not my business to worry, Roxanne thinks, but it doesn’t change the facts. “Do you…do you want me to call someone?” she asks. Megamind shakes his head. Presses his lips together. She tries again, “Is Minion sick? Can you tell me where he is so I can bring him here?”

Megamind’s whole face scrunches up before he manages to pull it flat again, but his eyes are too wide, his mouth too thin, and some part of Roxanne had already known the answer anyway.  “Minion’s dead, isn’t he?” she asks, and Megamind nods jerkily.  

Then he swallows hard. “I can’t,” he rasps, “I can’t go back. It’s too…I can’t sleep there.”

If he’s talking, Roxanne is loath to make him stop, but that’s where he breaks off. His thin chest billows once, twice, his eyes dart everywhere. He’s blinking like crazy. “If. I could have a moment,” he manages. “Please.”

It takes her a second to figure out that he wants her to leave him alone, but she supposes it makes sense. Megamind is secretive and he’s always been proud in spite of the way he usually clowns around. He’s probably kicking himself for letting her see him cry earlier, and since Roxanne doesn’t want to intrude on him again…

“I’ll go get you some dry clothes,” she says, but she sets a box of Kleenex by his knee before she goes into the bedroom, hoping he’ll take it as a signal that she’s not going to judge if there are tears.  

She takes her time looking for things that will fit him. She pulls out a thick pair of wool socks, first thing, because they’re easy and he obviously needs socks, and then she turns her attention to the rest of the problem. The zipper on his hoodie hadn’t escaped her notice; any pullover shirt she gives him will need a wide collar, so she opts for a stretchy navy-blue sweater with a vee neck. It’s very long, intended to be worn with leggings, but she has a particular pair of drawstring lounge pants in mind for him. She outgrew them years ago but she’s been optimistically holding onto them anyway.  

She hesitates. Would leggings be more comfortable for him? He wears an awful lot of spandex, and the jeans he has on look awfully snug…she grabs a pair of compression pants from her drawer; it’s worth a shot, and it’s not like she’ll need them for running now that it’s summer.  

He’s on his own as far as underwear is concerned; Roxanne’s not touching that little issue right now. She gets some towels out of her linen cupboard, puts them next to hers on the rack. Pulls a spare toothbrush out from under her bathroom sink and wiggles it out of its little cardboard box, sets it in the stand next to hers. There. That’s the best she can do.

Anything else?

She pauses, turning to gaze contemplatively at her shower. After a long moment of hesitation, she takes her razor and moves it to her bedroom, hiding it in the drawer of her nightstand. Megamind’s beard is an absolute mess but Roxanne has no idea what kind of mental state he might be in. Better safe than sorry. He can trim it with scissors if he needs to; his face is stubble-free except for that odd little stripe on his chin.

That done, she gathers up the clothes, squares her shoulders, takes a deep breath, and heads back out to the living room. She’s not really expecting Megamind to have composed himself after admitting something like Minion is gone, so she’s not surprised to see him sit up quickly when he hears the door open, his shoulders hitching.

Oh, screw this. Roxanne bites her lip and walks over to the couch, puts the folded clothing in a heap on the coffee table, and sits down next to the shuddering alien. “Megamind. If you need to cry, do it. You’ll give yourself a hernia, keeping it bottled up like that.”

“Ih-it’s been muh-months,” he chokes out, squeezing his hands into helpless fists. “I’m tuh-tired of crying. I just want it to st-stop hurting.”

Roxanne grabs a fist and peels his fingers open so she can net them with hers and squeeze. She’s not sure what else to do. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“No! That’s the worst part!” Megamind exclaims, pulling away and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Roxanne reaches around him to get the tissues, wordlessly hands him a Kleenex. He blinks at it, looking momentarily confused, then blows his nose in it. Roxanne scoots her little trash can over to him. “I don’t know what huh-happened. If I knew, I could do something about it.”

Slowly, painfully, the story unfolds.  Megamind had been working on a gun, no surprises there.  Something about disrupting objects in three-dimensional space, scattering them or something.  Minion had come into the room and startled Megamind, whose shout had, in turn, startled Minion—they both jumped a little—and the gun went off, hitting the upper half of Minion’s gorilla suit with a blast from an unfinished matter-disruptor.

“And he was gone,” Megamind finishes, “he was…he was just gone, just like that. From the knees up. I tried everything to get him back. At first I thought, I thought maybe it sent him somewhere, but when I shot a target with it, the target exploded. I don’t know what happened. I tried everything.”

Roxanne is staring at him, wide-eyed. It looks like Megamind does make mistakes, then, sometimes. “Did you take the gun apart?” she asks. “Maybe some wires got crossed, or…”

But he’s already shaking his head. “No. No. I couldn’t. If I changed the calibration, there-there would be no way.” Roxanne figures she’ll go with his word on that one. Megamind slumps again, forehead in his hands, tears dripping from open eyes onto his knees. “I don’t know what happened, I don’t know what to do,” he whispers. “I can’t go home. I can’t go to the prison. I’ve been staying underground, but I’m…I’m so tired, I just want to sleep.”

“No, of…of course you can’t go back underground,” Roxanne stammers, still trying to wrap her head around all this.  “No, I already set up your bed, you can stay here.”

At that, Megamind sits up a little and looks at her for what’s really the first time all night, but Roxanne doesn’t give him any time to slip back into his grief. “Here are some clothes—they should fit, I couldn’t find any zipper shirts, but I think you’ll be able to get that on. And, and I wasn’t really sure what kind of pants you would…anyway, you know where the bathroom is, I’m going to heat up some soup for dinner. Are you allergic to anything?” He just blinks at her and doesn’t reply. She’ll take that as a ‘no.’ “If,” she says, backing away slowly, “if you want to take a shower, I put some towels on the rack for you, they’re purple. Sorry. And, um, your toothbrush is the red one.”

Stunned, Megamind picks up the clothes and stares at Roxanne’s retreating back.  Stay? He can stay? Here?

It’s not in his nature to reach out.  Reaching out ends in being slapped away.  But now, things are being given to him—a dry place to sleep, food, clothing, something that might even resemble sympathy—and he doesn’t know what to do about that.  

After a long minute, he stands up and goes into the bathroom, where he strips off his wet clothes in a sort of daze. It doesn’t matter where he is now, or what he has. Minion is gone. The only fixed point in Megamind’s messed-up world is gone and he’s lost at sea.  

A glance in the mirror shows him the grubby mess of beard tangling down from its stripe on his chin—the only place it’s ever grown—shows him smudges of dirt on his face and neck and arms—shows hollows under his clavicles and cheekbones, shadows under the line of his jaw and his mussed-up eyebrows.  For a moment, he tries vaguely to care about his appearance, but that doesn’t really work so he switches to trying to care about muddying the clothes Roxanne lent him, instead. That’s a little easier, so he forces himself to turn on the shower and step in without thinking too hard about it. He does most things without thinking, now; it hurts less.

He leaves the water as hot as he can stand and rubs soap over his skin on autopilot, combs his fingers through his beard until he can’t find any more tangles, then settles to the floor of the shower and loses himself for a while in the curling steam.

Roxanne’s water heater is bigger than he’s used to, so it takes pruny hands and his skin blotching purple from the heat to tell him it’s time to get out of the shower.  When he eventually does turn the water off and climb out of the tub, he claims the lavender towels Roxanne had said he should use, dries off, and hangs them back up the way he found them.  Then he turns his fractured attention to the clothes she gave him.

There are white stars on the sweater.  He stares at these for an interminable amount of time, thinking about nothing in particular, before he remembers that he’s supposed to be getting dressed.

The material isn’t quite stretchy enough to get it over his head without breaking the elastic, so he pulls it up over his narrow hips and wiggles into it that way, instead. He opts for the leggings first in a half-hearted try for familiarity, but without much luck; Roxanne’s hips are far too wide for them to fit him. The drawstring trousers, on the other hand, are loose, but they stay up.  

When did Roxanne find out that he liked fluffy socks?

It doesn’t matter. He can’t summon the energy to figure out how to remove the wispy disaster on his chin, but he’s clean and he has dry clothes and a place to sleep. He suspects Roxanne may be messing with him, but at this point, Megamind is simply too burned-out to care. He’s been kicked when he was down before; that’s nothing new.  The trick to not being disappointed is not to hope for much.

It seems Roxanne’s apartment has the washer and dryer in the bathroom. Megamind piles his wet clothes in the dryer so they won’t be on the floor, but he doesn’t turn the machine on. He just looks at the useless leggings for a while, then leaves them in a heap on the back of the toilet. It seems like a clean enough surface.  

Once he’s done everything he can to delay leaving the bathroom, he turns and studies the door.  

Minion would know where to go from here.  Minion always knew where to go from here. It’s hard for Megamind to start things without Minion ticking gently away in the back of his mind, hard for him to remember to keep doing things, hard for him to even see where to begin, let alone how.  If Minion were here, Megamind’s hands would know their work, but as it is…

What is he supposed to do now?

Roxanne turns when she hears her bedroom door squeak open.  Her clothes are terribly baggy on Megamind and the collar of his sweater keeps slipping to the side and down, showing too-sharp collarbones and the lines of Megamind’s sternum under his skin.  

“Hey,” Roxanne says.  “Here, come eat.” She’s only just sat down, herself; she goes back to the stove and pours some chicken soup into a second bowl.  She’d figured chicken would be innocuous enough. “You have any allergies? You didn’t really tell me earlier.”

Megamind shakes his head as he approaches, stops when he gets to the hard floor of the kitchen.  “Where…?”

“Just at the island, pick a chair,” Roxanne tells him, pulling a spoon out of a drawer.  “Here.”

He balks.  Just pick one?  There are four. Roxanne’s chair is one in from the end.  Is he supposed to sit directly next to her? On which side?  Should he leave an empty chair between them?

Minion would have known. 

Roxanne turns, holding a bowl, and sees him still locked at the edge of the carpeting, green eyes flicking between the three available seats like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “Which hand do you eat with?” she asks.

He jumps and looks at her.  “Uh—m-my left.”

“Okay,” Roxanne says slowly. “That rules out the chair to my immediate right, or we’ll be bumping elbows all night. I’m going to go ahead and guess you probably do better with some space, anyway, so it looks like you’re on the end.” She sets his bowl down, and his spoon, then realizes he still hasn’t moved. “What is it?”

He glances at the floor. “Shoes. I…hard floors…my lab space…”

Oh, he is really out of it. He won’t walk on hard floors without shoes? Then the comment about lab space sinks in and she realizes it’s probably to do with his particular line of work. “You aren’t in your lab,” she reminds him. “You’re in my kitchen. Lab safety rules don’t apply here.”

Megamind nods and walks carefully to his chair, clenching and unclenching his hands as he moves.  

Wow. Roxanne returns to her own seat and does her best to act normal, but there’s nothing normal about having dinner with the shadowy husk of the guy who used to be one of the biggest spitfires you knew. And, okay, she can sort of understand his issues with shoes, but what’s with him not being able to just pick a damn chair?

Roxanne eats for a minute, then pauses and looks over at him. He’s just sitting there, staring at his bowl. “It’s going to get cold,” she says quietly.  

Megamind nods again and picks up his spoon, slowly eats two bites. That’s encouraging, but his second swallow is more of a stuttered gulp, and Roxanne looks over again just in time to see his face pinch before he turns away. He sets his spoon down.

She had been wondering if that would happen. Eating is the last thing she ever wants to do when she’s upset; it’s too grounding. When everything feels like the world is coming down around your ears, the last thing you want is to be reminded that life goes on regardless. Grief, in particular, is difficult to chew through. Grief flavors everything like ash.  

Lord knows if that’s Megamind’s headspace, but it doesn’t seem like much of a stretch. Roxanne reaches out and leans over to put her hand on his back, but Megamind jumps and shivers away, twisting to stare at her, momentarily startled out of his funk. Roxanne hesitates, then carefully touches his arm instead, cautiously rubs up and down a couple times before returning to her own space.  

“You need to eat,” she tells him, and he blinks his shocked-green stare back down at his soup. Then he wilts a little.  

“Not hungry,” he murmurs. 

“Okay, well, you look like you’re about to blow away.” Roxanne knocks a gentle fist against his shoulder and returns to her own dinner. “Eat.”

Megamind sits still for another few seconds, then huffs a quiet sigh and picks his spoon up again. He only finishes a little more than half the bowl before he goes back to the couch and curls up into a ball in the far corner, but he does eat, and Roxanne rolls her eyes at the ceiling and sends up a little thanks to who or whatever might be listening. God willing, Megamind will not starve to death on her watch.  

Minion. This changes everything. Roxanne’s world has just shifted several degrees.  

She finishes eating and rinses her dishes, covers Megamind’s uneaten portion with saran wrap and puts it in the fridge in case he wants it later, then goes to her living area. She bites her lip and looks at Megamind, whose face is hidden in the curve of the leg that’s tucked under him. His other foot is braced on the cushion so his sharp knee shields his side, and his hands are netted over the back of his neck again.  

Roxanne doesn’t touch him; he looks like he’ll pull something if he’s in that position and he jumps like he did the last couple times. Instead, she sits down on the opposite end of the couch and turns on the television, flicking through channels until she finds a movie. It’s an older western flick, Clint Eastwood doing his squinty, stoic thing. Fun with cowboys, guns, and not too much dialogue. Yeah.  

She knows Megamind is grieving. She also knows that whatever happened, happened almost a year ago. So—she’ll support him where she can, give him a safe place to sleep, give him some company. Feed him. Do what she can. 

But she’ll mourn Minion in her own way, in her own time. She’s got her life to live, and maybe if she lives her life, Megamind will live it with her and get back on his feet that way. 

She might not be doing this much for him if she had found him last fall, but Metro Man had been deeply worried after the first big snow this past winter. More worried than Roxanne ever would have expected him to be, honestly, but then he had started telling her things about Megamind that he’d never told anyone else.  

“Roxie, trust me, if he wanted to kill me, I’d be dead,” he said. “But I think it’s more like…we’re kinda like business partners, you know? I’m the hero, he’s the villain. It works. He knows I’m not gonna try and take him out permanently, and I know he’s not gonna let anybody else start pushing our city around…it works. With him gone, I’m pulling double shifts trying to keep other villains from moving in. And that’s not the half of it…”

Roxanne had listened with narrowed eyes. 

When multiple disasters hit the city at the same time—not an unusual occurrence in a metropolitan area as large as Metro—and Metro Man couldn’t cover all of them, Megamind would send flights of brainbots in stealth mode to the locations Metro Man couldn’t make it to. And the decrease in crime over the past decade or so hasn’t been entirely Metro Man’s doing; some of it—a lot of it—was Megamind working to keep the balance. Including tips to the media on local scandals and business dealings. And more than half of the Scott family’s annual “anonymous” donation to the city’s public-school system has come from Megamind for at least the last five years, and possibly even before that. More than half.

“This is why we gotta find him, Roxie,” Metro Man had said. “I can’t do this job alone. Not well, anyway.”

“Wait, back up the truck,” Roxanne replied, waving her hands.  “You’re saying he even knows you’re really Wayne Scott.”

“Oh, he’s known that since we were kids,” Metro Man scoffed.  “But he only approached me about using my family’s name to hide his contributions about…oh, four, five years ago?”

“And he uses this information to help the schools?” Wrapping her head around that one had taken her a minute.  

But Metro Man just shrugged. “He’s a genius. Not surprising he’d value education.” Then he had sighed, shaken his head. “Roxie, what I’m saying is, he’s a major force for good in this city.”

“I thought you always said he’s an evil little maniac.”

“Yeah, and I’ve got enough respect for his reputation not to ruin it for him.  You’ve never noticed? Really?”

She had. She’d never wanted to admit it, for fear of sounding absolutely off her rocker, but…

Megamind has never threatened her, not really, not once. And the way he acts with the brainbots, and with Minion, and when he’s not thinking, with her…

Mind the size of a planet, and he always seemed to genuinely enjoy verbally sparring with her.  She didn’t have to hide a thing from him when she was in his chair, she didn't have to worry about playing nice and being diplomatic; he’d look at her just the same, with stars in his eyes and a grin on his lips.

Now she glances sideways at the aforementioned evil little maniac, who’s currently in a sad little ball on her sofa, and sighs.  Well, if he’s going to be living with her…

“Okay, house rules,” she says. “No drugs, no stealing, and if you make a mess, you clean it up. Oh, and no hanging out on top of the fridge in the middle of the night. Other than that…estás en tu casa. Help yourself to food and whatever else.”

After a second, Megamind slowly raises his head, looking baffled. “What…the fridge…?”

“Hey, it happens once, you learn to be careful,” Roxanne says flatly, hoping he’ll smile. “I guess it’s not a major thing, but one of my former roommates liked to climb on top of the refrigerator at night and just…perch there. It was deeply creepy.” She grins at him. “I don’t want to come out to get a midnight snack and find you up on top of the fridge like some weird bird in the middle of the night.”

He stares at her for another long moment, then puts his head back down again.

“And this other guy,” Roxanne continues, because it’s a commercial and that seemed to get Megamind’s attention even if it didn’t get a smile, “stayed with me for a while because he was my roommate’s brother but she was out of town and…anyway, he took pictures of my feet.” She pauses, but doesn’t get a response from Megamind. “Lots of pictures, without my knowledge.”

Megamind uncurls a little. 

“Yep,” she continues, “I only found out because he accidentally texted one to a mutual friend who let me know. Turns out this guy had fifty or so pictures of just my feet and my lower legs. I had no idea he was even taking them—you know how people stand when they’re texting, right? Head down, phone camera pointed at the floor?” She laughs a little. “That was still less weird than Fridge Roomie.”

There’s a pause, and then Megamind mumbles, “I won’t. Do that. Take pictures of you.”

Roxanne laughs again, but it comes out forced.  “Thanks,” she says. “I appreciate that. I mean, I probably would have been fine if he just asked first, but…”

Another pause. Then she says, “We worried you wouldn’t survive the winter. Metro Man assumed you went someplace warm, but you didn’t, did you? You stayed here in Metro City.”

Silence. Finally he says, “It’s my home.”

“We would’ve known if you visited any of the shelters,” Roxanne says, gently prompting. “Or went back to the jail.”

“Storm drains,” Megamind says into the couch. “It’s…warm enough underground. I found a place.  Higher than the rest. Dry. I could sleep there.”

“Warm enough,” she repeats, amazed. She remembers reading somewhere that caves stay the same temperature all year, but a drain is hardly a cave. “Warm enough to keep from freezing to death, maybe, but…”

Megamind shifts, almost shrugs. “I’m alive.”

“I guess,” Roxanne says, after a pause. He doesn’t look terribly alive; he looks like he’s starving to death. Gaunt, tired. “Where did you get food?” she asks, but it seems Megamind’s brief talkative spell has dried up; he doesn’t answer.  

“Never mind,” she says, feeling abruptly bad for questioning him when he’s so clearly out of it. Answers can wait; they aren’t important, anyway. “That’s okay, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

She watches TV for a while, scrolling idly through Facebook on her phone at the same time. She doesn’t know half the people she’s friends with; she gets new friend requests every day and she tends to accept all of them just so she doesn’t have to think about it. Every now and then some stranger will share something newsworthy to her timeline, so it has its upsides.

Megamind doesn’t speak again, or move, but eventually Roxanne has to nudge him. “You should brush your teeth.” He twists out of his pretzel and looks at her, blankly puzzled. “I’m going to bed, soon,” she says, “and the ignoramus who designed this apartment decided to put the only bathroom inside the bedroom.” It works well enough when she’s alone, but it does make having overnight guests somewhat difficult.  

Megamind gets to his feet like an ironing board unfolding, then walks away without a word and without stretching. A second later, Roxanne hears the bathroom door click shut. At least the bathroom is immediately inside her bedroom, so guests don’t have to go too far into her room to use it. You would think her apartment would have a more thoughtful layout, with what she pays for the place. Oh, well.

This is much earlier than she normally turns in, but interacting with Megamind feels awkward and strange in a way she isn’t sure she can deal with, right now. She can’t just sit here and pretend like he isn’t in some kind of shock, but she also doesn’t dare reach out the way she wishes she could. For one thing, he keeps flinching every time she touches him, but mostly…

Well, it’s Megamind. They just don’t have that kind of relationship.  

Yes, he let her out of a kidnapping one time for a family emergency. He even drove her to the hospital. And yes, there was the time he came to kidnap her and found her sick with the flu, and he had apologized and left—and two hours later, Minion showed up with a container of soup and a carton of orange juice. And it’s been years since he last kidnapped her in the middle of anything truly pressing; Roxanne suspects he keeps an eye on her schedule, though she isn’t sure why.  And what about when her grandmother passed away, and Megamind sent a sympathy card? She’s inclined to think that was probably Minion’s idea, but the signature was genuine.

But Megamind being as courteous as possible during his kidnappings doesn’t change the fact that they are kidnappings. She knows he doesn’t mean her any harm, and that’s what counts, but they haven’t had the chance to really build any kind of extra-curricular rapport.

And yes, Roxanne has never felt truly threatened, but she’s always had to wonder. Like the times when Megamind would lean in close, baring his teeth in a wild smile that reached all the way to his eyes. Or when he cackled with laughter as he skipped and danced around bursts of laser-fire from Metro Man’s eyes, showing no regard whatsoever for his personal well-being. That wasn’t an act; Minion’s face always gave it away whenever Megamind had a close call, so—Megamind was a villain and there was real danger there, whether he intended harm or not.

And now he’s brushing his teeth in Roxanne’s bathroom, and she’s sitting out here hoping he’ll be okay. What the hell.

“I’ve lost my mind,” she mutters.

When Megamind comes back out, blinking owlishly at her, she stands. “Your bed’s over there, behind the screen,” she tells him. “I’ll…figure something out about other clothes for you tomorrow.”

For a moment, he looks like he’s about to say something, but then he swallows whatever words were on his tongue and just nods, instead. And disappears behind the screen.  

“God, give me strength,” Roxanne whispers, and goes to brush her own teeth and get ready for bed.  

She doesn’t think to check her phone again until she’s already lying down. There are four new texts from Metro Man:

Thank god. He okay?

Hellooooo?

Ground control to major tom helloooo is he okay

Should I come over?

She smiles in spite of herself and responds, Sorry, got caught up. Don’t come over, he’s asleep and I’m going to bed. He seems

—She pauses, wanting to type “depressed,” but she’s not sure yet if that’s accurate.  

He seems pretty shaken up. That’s correct, she knows. Minion’s dead.

She sends the text and puts her phone on the nightstand to charge, then rolls onto her back with a sigh. She’s fully intending to go to sleep, but she winds up staring at the ceiling for a long time.  

Is that what depression looks like? It’s been a long time since any of her immediate friends were grappling with it to such an extent, but she’s sure she never saw them go blank like that. They had never lost track of their words. The way Megamind is acting…it looks like depression, but it also looks like some of his pain might be physical; he keeps clutching the back of his neck just under the curve of his skull, he keeps his eyes closed.

What would depression even look like in Megamind? He’s an alien, after all; his brain is vastly different from her own, as well as different from the only other alien Roxanne is friendly with.  Could this be something else—just grief, maybe? It’s been a long time since the accident, but…his distress while he was telling her what happened…that would point more to grief than depression, wouldn’t it? 

And should she keep worrying about how small he is? He’s always been thin and right now he’s skinnier than usual, but she’s not sure at what point Megamind will qualify as “dangerously underweight” versus just “visibly malnourished.”

He passed out earlier, so something must be deeply wrong. She has to wonder, again, if Minion and Megamind had had some kind of mental link going on. She’d never noticed them doing anything that looked like telepathy, but they always operated as a perfect team in spite of Megamind’s constant complaining; is it possible that their cohesiveness was the result of more than just years of practice? That would definitely complicate things, grieving-process-wise. Possibly physically as well, but it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing she can just ask about.  

To be fair, if Megamind winds up staying for a while, she’ll probably find out eventually, either way. She groans and rolls over, closes her eyes, and wills herself to sleep, but it’s a long time coming.  

Chapter Text

Soundtrack Link (YouTube)

Roxanne leaves for work before Megamind is out of bed. She glances in at him before she leaves just to make sure he’s still there but she doesn’t wake him up; one thing he mentioned twice last night was sleeping, where he could and couldn’t sleep. She figures if he can sleep at all in her apartment, she should let him get on with it. He probably needs it.

But she isn’t sure if she’s going to come home from work that evening and find he’s gone missing again. He doesn’t seem like the sort of person to stay in one place too long if he’s uncertain about his surroundings, and he certainly seemed unsure of himself last night. But he doesn’t have anywhere else to go, that’s for sure, and Roxanne is really hoping he’ll be there in the evening. 

She runs a quick errand on her way home, just in case. It turns out not to be fruitless, because Megamind is sitting on the sofa, expressionless, his hands still, when Roxanne walks in. “Hey,” Roxanne exclaims. “You’re still here!”

He flushes at that and stands up, and she sees he’s wearing his ratty clothes again. His shoes are tied. 

She could let him go, could let him walk right out the door and out of her life, and everything would go back to normal and Megamind probably wouldn’t even be offended about it. Now’s the chance for Roxanne to keep her quiet home life. He’s a wanted criminal and they likely don’t have a thing in common. He’s not her responsibility. 

I don’t see why that matters. She tosses him the pack of underwear she picked up for him on her way home on the off chance he’d still be there and asks, “What do you want for dinner?”

Megamind catches the underwear on reflex and blinks at her until he apparently remembers that he’s supposed to respond. “Um. I’ll. Have whatever you’re having,” he mumbles, and sits back down. He doesn’t say much else for the rest of the night, but he hasn’t left on Wednesday morning, and Roxanne figures that’s the end of that. 

Over the next few days, she starts to see small signs of what might be improvement. At first, Megamind mostly sits on her couch and stares into space, apparently lost in thought. But sometimes when she gets home from work, she finds things different from how she left them. The dishes are done, her laundry has been folded. Badly, but it’s folded. Neither of those things strike her as particularly odd; she often leaves herself a short list of chores to take care of in the evening so she won’t have to bother figuring out what to do, and ‘dishes’ and ‘fold laundry’ are both pretty standard items on the list.

But then her bedroom door stops squeaking, and the next day the drippy kitchen sink stops dripping. The soap scum in her shower disappears. The microwave oven is clean. Megamind is definitely finding things to do while Roxanne is out for the day, but the really incredible thing is that he seems to have an uncanny knack for finding things that Roxanne herself has thought about but hasn’t had the time to focus on. Either they aren’t part of her usual checklist or they’re things she’s not sure how to do, like the sink and the persistent whine in her freezer that Megamind somehow manages to fix after only a few days. 

He just looks uncomfortably blank when she thanks him, so she eventually stops mentioning it, but she still tries to catch his eye when she notices something. She could get used to this. 

But after about a week of being surprised at whatever small adjustments Megamind found, she comes home to a dark apartment. Megamind is nowhere to be seen—not in his bed or under it, not in Roxanne’s room, not in the bathroom. Feeling silly, she even checks some of the kitchen cupboards and glances behind the television set in the corner, wondering if he’s the sort to hide somewhere small when he’s feeling particularly off. He’s not in any of those places, either, but she does find one of her throw pillows behind the television, and the space is almost suspiciously free of dust.

She’s sitting in her chair, holding the throw pillow and wondering for the millionth time why the heck she’s even worrying, when her front doorknob rattles. She looks up, startled, and then there’s a flurry of frantic knocks and she leaps for the door, slides back the three deadbolts and the chain (locks never seemed to bother him before; what’s his problem now?) and wrenches the door open. Megamind all but dives into her apartment, a stained duffel bag slung across his back. 

“Where were you?” Roxanne asks, too relieved to bother thinking about hiding it. “I thought you disappeared again!”

Megamind turns and blinks at her, then shrugs his duffel a little. “My clothes,” he says, then looks uncertain. “I can…still stay? Here?”

She gapes at him for a moment, then lets out a quiet sigh and rubs a hand down her neck. “Yes,” she says, making a conscious effort to calm down. “Yes, you can stay, just don’t scare me like that.” She’s expecting him to just nod and retreat to the sofa or behind his screen, but he actually takes a step forward.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think…”

She waves at him, suddenly tired. “No, it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me where you’re going. I’m not your mom. Just…”

“I went missing before.” He stands like a stone, watching her. “You were worried.”

“Yeah,” Roxanne admits, “I was.”

His great head tips to one side. “Why?” he asks, but all she can tell him is, “I don’t know.” Oddly enough, he seems satisfied with this answer. 

They start to build a rapport different from the one they used to have. Roxanne starts it by chatting absently to her silent roommate about work: news stories and office drama—who got the promotion and who’s out for revenge and who got fired. She tells him about Hal, who still seems a little odd, weirdly pushy, but mostly harmless. She talks to him about food while she cooks the same basic meals she always has (but more of them now, enough for two).

Food, at least, is easy to talk about. Roxanne tells him about what metals are good for cooking, why silver should be washed separately from stainless steel, why olive oil is good for sautéing but peanut oil is good for frying and coconut oil is good for everything if you don’t mind your food tasting vaguely nutty. Tells him what her father taught her about how if the smells go together, the ingredients probably do, too. Tells him how to do vegetables in the oven with olive oil. Tells him again and again that he needs to eat. 

She shows him the steps and, slowly, he begins to respond. He sticks with “whatever you’re having” as his response to the dinner question, but he watches everything Roxanne does and he seems to be listening. He starts asking questions. He stirs the frying onions and peppers when Roxanne has to step away. 

He stops leaving an empty chair between them when they sit down to eat.

He sits on the sofa and pays attention to the movies she watches, which is fun until the movie is District 9, which Megamind seems interested in for about five minutes. Then he works out the theme and inhales sharply, stands, and goes into the bathroom. A moment later, Roxanne hears the shower kick on. 

Megamind doesn’t come back for at least half an hour, by which point Roxanne has also figured out the direction the movie is going and has turned on America’s Next Top Model instead, since Megamind occasionally seems to be interested in the clothes. “I’m so sorry,” she says as soon as he pokes his head around her bedroom door. “I’ve never seen it before, I only heard it had aliens in it.”

“‘S okay,” he says, sliding back onto the couch. A minute later, he’s muttering about shoes and patterns, so Roxanne decides he’s not too traumatized. Good.

Metro Man texts her at work. How is he?

Not great, Roxanne sends back. I’m trying to get him out of his shell.

Yikes, Metro Man replies after a few minutes of nothing. Good luck. 

“Oh, you’re a big help,” Roxanne mutters, and goes back to her job.

To be fair, she’s not particularly forthcoming on the Megamind front, either. She calls Wayne every now and again to fill him in, but she never talks long and she rarely elaborates more than she has to. Talking about Megamind’s emotional state with his arch-rival makes her uncomfortable, though probably not half as uncomfortable as Megamind would be if he knew.

To her surprise, though, Wayne seems more or less okay with the arrangement. He doesn’t protest Megamind staying at her apartment and he doesn’t insist that the villain move to the Manor. He sounds startled when Roxanne tells him Megamind will be staying with her for the foreseeable future, but he doesn’t sound opposed, and that’s the most important thing. Mostly he just seems glad to know the smaller alien is as on top of things as he can be and doesn’t protest the lack of updates.

He doesn’t say much when Roxanne tells him exactly what happened to Minion, but he sounds pensive and excuses himself from their phone conversation quickly after that. Roxanne’s not sure what that means. Probably nothing, she decides, returning to her work.

Megamind doesn’t know how to make popcorn, a fact Roxanne privately thinks is hilarious. “It’s easy,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at him before returning her attention to the microwave. “You just wait until there’s about two seconds between each pop, then take it out.”

Megamind, who is standing with his hands on his elbows several feet behind her, doesn’t say anything. He’s not good at “about” or “roughly.” He would wait until there were exactly two seconds between pops even though he already knows there will never be exactly two seconds. He knows because Minion has told him this same thing several times, and he’s tried, and it doesn’t work.

Roxanne pulls the microwave door open when the average time between popping noises is 2.09 seconds. Megamind presses his lips together. 

“See? Most of it’s popped, and none of it’s burned,” Roxanne says, leaning back as she tugs the bag open and lets the steam escape. “Pass the salt.”

But now Megamind steps forward, pulls open the fridge with one hand and a cupboard with the other, takes out butter and a small glass bowl in almost the same movement. He puts the bowl on the counter and pulls out the knife drawer in the same motion.

Roxanne blinks at him, curious and smiling. After so much stillness, popcorn is what gets him to move? “What are you…?”

“Wait,” he says. He cuts off a chunk of butter and puts it in the bowl, dumps a bunch of salt in on top of the butter, puts it in the microwave. 

Megamind can’t make popcorn. He can, however, make extra butter.

Roxanne puts the hot bag gingerly down on the counter, then leans against the closed fridge to watch. Megamind glances over at her, then down at the popcorn bag, then goes back to staring at the microwave. 

Something flashes near his chest, and Roxanne realizes he’s absently twirling the knife he used to cut the butter between the bare fingers of his left hand. She opens her mouth to warn him to be careful, then realizes how silly that would sound—he’s a supervillain, or he was; he knows what he’s doing.

He opens the microwave with several seconds left on the timer. This, he can do, because he can see when the butter needs to be taken out. No counting involved. He takes out the little bowl and swirls it a little to make sure the salt is fully dissolved, then tilts the popcorn bag up and jiggles it a bit while drizzling the butter in. That should keep the distribution even enough, but he still pinches the bag closed and gives it a few vigorous shakes anyway just to be sure. 

When he turns, Roxanne is holding out a wooden bowl and grinning at him. “So,” she says, “I make the popcorn, you make the butter, huh?” She takes a couple still-hot pieces as Megamind upends the bag into the bowl and crunches thoughtfully, then raises her eyebrows. “‘S good,” she exclaims. “Not too salty. It’s always too salty when I mix the butter and salt in the same bowl.”

He doesn’t really smile, but his eyes crinkle at the corners. “See,” he says, “I’m not totally hopeless.”

She laughs. “I see! All right, c’mon. Back to pod racers and bad animation?”

“Star Wars,” he agrees. “Yes.”

She comes home a few nights after that and he’s gone again, but this time there’s a note in the bowl by the door where she leaves her keys. Getting food, it says. Back soon. Roxanne leaves the door unlocked this time, even though she goes to bed before Megamind comes in, and in the morning when she peeks in the fridge it has all kinds of meats and vegetables and juices. Her cupboards have been restocked with cans and packets of instant soups. 

That wasn’t necessary, but…it’s a nice gesture, she supposes. It seems the villain is willing to earn his keep, and it means he’s getting out and about, so it can’t be all bad. Still, she can’t help but wonder where he’d gone.

She thanks him for the groceries when she gets home in the evening, and he nods. But all he says is, “We needed food.”

Which, while accurate, isn’t much of a conversation starter. Oh well. At least he’s starting to talk. And there was a we in there.

Sometimes she’s not sure if any of this is helping. Megamind doesn’t cry again, not that she sees. She doesn’t know if that’s good or not. But he stays, and that’s something. 

He’s also not awful from a roommate standpoint, which is something else. He doesn’t behave like an interloper and he doesn’t just live his life separately from her but in the same space; he listens to her talk about her day. He listens to her talk about food. He cleans up after himself and hangs up his towel and he never forgets to put the cap back on the toothpaste. 

It’s weird. And it’s…sort of nice. But otherwise, it seems like he’s locked in his head half the time, content to just share his existence with her, not really doing anything of his own or expressing any preferences. Roxanne doesn’t stop asking what he’d like to do that particular evening, but all she ever gets is a shrug. 

And she wishes it wasn’t because Minion is dead. She honestly can’t think of another reason why he’d wind up living with her, but any other reason has got to be better than that one.

It’s been nearly a year since the accident with Minion. Grief takes its own sweet time, Roxanne knows that well enough, but…it’s different when you’re watching it wreak its silent havoc on someone else instead of dealing with the storm yourself. Still, it hasn’t been long since Megamind’s had a safe place to sleep and spend his days. Roxanne suspects he’s been in a holding pattern, so maybe he couldn’t move forward—not move on, but at least forward—until now. 

For her part, she resolves to just keep living her life. Hopefully, Megamind will eventually be able to find his own cut strings and pick them back up again. 

She comes home late and scowling halfway through the third week and hurls her keys into their usual bowl, then looks up to see Megamind eyeing her warily from the middle of the room. It’s more alert than he’s looked in a while. And, to her intense surprise, he clears his throat and asks, “Rough day?”

She scoffs. “Ugh. You have no idea. So, my boss, right?”

“Carl.”

“Yeah, Carl. So, Carl gets this great idea today to tell me that the Faber interview is tomorrow morning instead of next Friday like I thought.”

Megamind frowns. “Isn’t that the…”

“Federal tax fraud case, yeah, so guess what I did from five-thirty—when I was getting ready to go home—until nine?”

Megamind’s lips twitch. “You read tax law,” he guesses.

Roxanne flops backwards onto the couch and kicks off her heels. “Yeah. I read tax law. And way too many sections of actual tax code, too. Don’t you want to know why?”

He tilts his head at her.

“Because it was five-thirty and summertime and all the accountants I know were already home for the evening, so I couldn’t ask them for ideas. This stuff isn’t exactly rocket science, so I need to come up with enough bullshit to generate twenty minutes of sound bites for tomorrow.” At this, Megamind tips his head the other way. She glares at him. “What.”

His mouth does a twitchy thing and his eyes are suspiciously sparkly. If Roxanne didn’t know better, she’d say he was trying not to laugh at her. “Miss Ritchi,” he says, “you could have asked me.” Then, when Roxanne looks dubious, he spreads his hands. “It’s simple. The question is whether principles are easier to violate than rules. Section 7201 is all about intent.”

Roxanne stares at him. “What? You…”

“Make it about philosophy rather than fact, and you should be able to keep Faber talking as long as you need him to,” Megamind says. Then he blinks and rounds his shoulders a little, pulls back into himself.

Roxanne stares harder. “So, wait…the key to getting you to talk,” she says slowly, “is to bug you about taxes?”

Megamind looks away.

Roxanne snorts. “Pass,” she mutters. “But thanks, I’ll…keep that in mind. You, um, you pay your taxes?” she asks, hoping to get him talking a little more.

He nods fractionally. No luck. 

“Oh, for the love of…” Roxanne breaks off, shaking her head and deciding not to finish her sentence. You’re allowed to talk, she wants to say, you’re allowed to live! Although I don’t know if I’d call being able to cite specific code sections living, exactly… Instead, she stands up and goes over to her television, rummages in the little compartment underneath it. “Well, thanks for listening, anyway,” she says, crouching to try and see in the dark space. “I feel better. Aha!” She holds up her prize and turns around brandishing two wheels, slightly dusty but still solid. 

“So, Spaceman,” she says, making Megamind blink and frown at her, “you know how to play MarioKart? Best thing for a bad mood.”

An hour later, with Roxanne cussing him out between gritted teeth, Megamind asks, “The best thing for a bad mood is to make it worse?” He doesn’t like Rainbow Road. 

“Sometimes,” Roxanne mutters, and chucks a red shell at him. Nobody likes Rainbow Road. 

Some time after that, Megamind says, “I do my taxes. Minion paid and mailed them.”

Roxanne glances over at him. “Really? I sort of figured he’d be the one doing the clerical stuff and you’d just…sign them, or whatever.”

“Paying and mailing is clerical,” he tells her. “But he doesn’t…didn’t know everything he would have needed to fill out the forms.”

She swallows. “You guys were a good team.”

Megamind nods. “I don’t know what to do without him,” he says, and runs her straight off the road while she’s still blinking at how unusually frank he sounded.  

“Son of a bitch,” Roxanne exclaims, startled, but Megamind only smirks. 

Then he asks, “Why do you leave notes?”

“Notes…oh, the chore lists? They remind me what I want to get done so I don’t have to think about it,” she says. “It keeps me from forgetting. And if I have a lot to do, it’s easier to figure out what to do first if I have it all written down.” She shrugs. “It’s just easier in general, I think.”

“I should try that,” he murmurs.

Conversation lapses after that, but Roxanne goes to bed that night pleased with herself. 

And who knows? Maybe this is helping; Megamind does seem to be coming back into himself somewhat. He starts to talk more, he makes eye contact more often, and his silent spells are becoming less and less frequent. 

A full month and a half after Roxanne finds him wet on the street, she walks in the door to see him darting at the stove with a fork. He’s trying to turn pieces of chicken in a buttery pan before the hot butter spits at him, hissing swears at the hot pan when it splatters. 

She claps a hand to her mouth to stifle her laugh, but Megamind hears anyway; he spins and stares at her, affronted, two bright spots of color high on his cheeks. “Does it do this when you do it?” he demands. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Are you cooking?” Roxanne, still laughing, drops her keys and shrugs her purse onto the table beside them. “Let me see. What are you using?”

“Butter,” he tells her, skipping back at her approach. He still hasn’t stopped flinching when she touches him, so Roxanne has mostly stopped trying. “Salt. Pepper.”

She looks at the pan, then at her roommate, then at the note paper on the counter—it’s not one of hers; it looks like Megamind has actually been writing down what Roxanne does to cook dinner and was following that. There’s another list taped to the microwave door. “You did just right. Nothing wrong here.”

“But it’s biting,” he insists, glaring at the pan. 

Roxanne laughs again. “It bites me, too, Megamind. I’m just used to it. You’ve never been burned before?”

“Of course,” he huffs. “Lots of times. But not with it…pinching like this.”

Grinning, Roxanne shakes her head. “You’ll be fine. I’m going to get changed out of this skirt. And then I’ve got something for you, too!”

His eyebrows shoot up but he doesn’t ask, only watches her until she’s into her bedroom and the door closed. By the time Roxanne is back, wearing an old pair of jeans instead of the pencil skirt and hose she’s been trapped in all day, he’s got the chicken on a plate, the broccoli in a bowl, and turn off oven crossed off on the door of the microwave.

(Checklists, he thinks. Tedious but useful. It’s an extra step than he’s used to and it’s so boring, but…as far as knowing where to start and what to do next, turns out they work pretty well. There’s also the fact that sometimes he feels almost okay in the back of his head again—sometimes he picks things up, a low hum that he’s not sure if he’s hearing or feeling—and that seems to be helping, too, but Megamind has his own ideas about that. Most of the ideas involve trying not to think about how Roxanne will kick him out for sure if the hum means what he hopes it doesn’t.)

“Man, you really did cook,” Roxanne says, impressed and oblivious to Megamind’s mental struggles. “With the oven and everything, look at you go!”

“I got bored,” he says quietly, but his ears are pink. 

They eat at the island like they usually do, Roxanne telling Megamind everything from the office that day. He even manages to ask a couple questions about various people she’d mentioned on days prior. 

She tells him about Hal again, too. “He invited me over to his place tonight,” she says. “He’s having another party, apparently. He has a lot of those.”

Megamind looks at her, suddenly tongue-tied. Roxanne is getting used to that, but it’s still a little strange when it happens. She waits, and Megamind finally asks, “Why…?”

“Why…didn’t I go?” she says, then shrugs when he nods. “I don’t know. Hal’s nice enough, but…he acts like we’re together.” She rests her chin in her hand, elbow on the counter, and rolls her last piece of broccoli around on her plate with her fork. “I don’t know how to tell him how off-putting it is. Not that I haven’t tried. But I also had to stop at the shop on my way home!” she adds, hopping down from the tall chair. “Wait juuust a sec…”

She hurries over to her purse and comes back with a flat, brown box, which she hands to Megamind before climbing back into her seat, folding her hands in her lap and looking excited. “I found these while I was out shopping yesterday. I wasn’t going to…well, but I had to. You’ll see.”

He blinks at her, mystified and almost smiling, and takes off the lid, brushes white tissue paper aside. Then he blinks again and pulls back. His eyebrows twist together and his eyes widen a little in uncertain surprise. 

Gloves. She bought him gloves. 

And they look like they’ll actually fit, which is incredible; Megamind’s measurements are fairly unique. They must be custom. They must have been terribly expensive. Why would she buy him these? What is she thinking? 

Slowly, he takes them out of the box. They’re dark gray and have reinforced stitching, intended to be worn during various daily activities, but they’re short in the wrist rather than being the opera-length kind Megamind usually wears. They’re nothing he would have been caught dead in, before, but now…

“Gloves,” he murmurs. “Where did you…?”

“Never mind ‘where,’ how do they fit?” Roxanne asks. 

Megamind swallows and slips one onto his hand, thumbing the snap closed around the ball of his wrist. He flexes his fingers, makes a fist, feels the new leather creak around his knuckles when he squeezes. God, he’s missed this. “Like a glove,” he says, putting the other one on and repeating the motion.

“Oh, good!” Roxanne smiles, looking relieved. “I mean, he said they would, but…I wasn’t sure.”

“He?” Megamind asks. This is more questions than he usually asks in one night, more questions than he usually feels able to ask, but…he doesn’t usually get presents, let alone such thoughtful ones.

“David. At Caladan’s Custom Leather Apparel. They make your gloves, I just found out. I was walking the other day and I saw their display, and…” Roxanne colors under her freckles. “Well, I thought of you. You’ve always worn gloves. So tonight, I went in to ask about a custom pair. I thought Dave would need measurements, but I guess he realized who I was talking about when I mentioned you have really long hands.” She laughs a little. “I’m…still pretty known for being your old kidnappee. That probably helped with the deduction a little.

“So he brought these out. Said he’d made them a while ago on a whim, sort of for practice and sort of because he was thinking it might be nice to offer you some variety, but his boss said you’d hate them.”

“They wouldn’t have fit the uniform,” Megamind says, still staring at his hands.

"Yeah, that’s pretty much what Dave said. So I brought them home. I know they’re not your usual, but…” She peers at him, looking nervous. “Do you like them?”

Megamind nods wordlessly. Yes, he likes them. He loves them. They’re perfect. He can’t wear them to cook with, of course, but…for everything else, these are his hands. The gloves he was wearing when he left the Lair had frozen and cracked back in January, when he was living behind the library up on Fourth Street, and his hands haven’t felt right since. Too bare. He hasn’t been bare-handed for more than a couple hours at a time since he was a teenager.

He looks up at her, thinking again that these must have been expensive. They’re the only pieces of his old outfit that Minion ever needed to outsource, and Minion was always one to gripe about costs. Megamind’s opera gloves, with their steel spikes and buckles and silk linings, easily ran over four hundred dollars a pair. “How much?” he finally asks. He fully intends to repay her, but Roxanne just scoffs and shakes her head.

“Don’t worry about it,” she starts to say, then stops, startled, when Megamind puts a slim hand over hers.

“No,” he says, low and urgent, “how much? Gloves cost a lot. I know.”

“Dave only charged me for the materials,” she tells him, blinking. “Since he’d had them for so long and it wasn’t like you were going to want to buy them.”

Megamind’s gaze slips sideways, then darts back to her face. “Sixty?” he asks. “Dark kid leather, unlined, shortie cut without embeleeeshments, steel snaps?”

“Yeah,” Roxanne says. “You’re good.”

“I know my gloves.” Megamind shakes his head, pulls his hand back and sits up a little. “That’s…I’ll add that to the rest I owe you.”

Roxanne frowns and shakes her head. “I told you, it’s fine.”

“It’s not.” And there’s that hum again—a warmth in the back of his skull where Minion used to tick with him, and Megamind’s not completely sure what it is. He’s felt it a few times over the past month or so, and it’s starting to come in almost every day, now. Probably nothing to worry about, but it only happens when Roxanne is home, and something about that…bothers him. He has some suspicions—nothing solid, but none of his ideas are good.

He doesn’t say anything about that, though. He just sticks with, “It’s not,” and waits.

Roxanne looks at him for a moment, then shrugs. “Okay. Whatever you’re comfortable with. But you don’t have to keep track, really.”

Megamind doesn’t argue, but he frowns. Seriously, who is she kidding? He sleeps in her home, he eats her food—though he’s managing to find ways around that by doing after-hours shopping at the grocery several blocks away every week or so—he uses her hot water, and now she’s spent way more than she should have on a pair of gloves for him, which is an entirely frivolous expense and he knows it.

Why is she being so nice? It’s unsettling. He’d thought maybe if he cooked, maybe if he cleaned and fixed what he could find and did the things she wanted to get done, maybe that would balance the inequity somewhat, but now these gloves…

He flexes his fingers again, feels the comforting pull of leather over his joints. He shouldn’t accept them. He should tell her no, take them back, he’s fine without them. But…

“Thanks for dinner, by the way,” Roxanne says, smiling at him. “Good job.”

Megamind’s heart turns over. I’m in trouble, he thinks.

Minion would have known what to do. 

Megamind is gone again when Roxanne wakes up the next morning, and there’s no note this time. His gloves are back in their box.

Well, that’s okay, she supposes. It’s fine, he’s allowed to leave, it’s fine, but…he isn't back that night. Worry gnaws at Roxanne’s stomach, but she banishes it with an effort. Megamind can come and go as he pleases. It’s not her job to keep him.

Still, she remembers how he reacted to her spur-of-the-moment gift and she can’t help but feel like she spooked him somehow. But why? He’s always worn gloves and she had thought he might like to have a pair again. Then again, the fact that he actually touched her—he reached out—after he had them on hadn’t escaped her notice, so maybe they mean more than she had thought.

Dinner is too quiet and there are too many leftovers and she can’t focus on her book. She goes to bed early but doesn’t sleep well. In the morning, she pokes her head around Megamind’s screen, but he’s still not in his bed.

She texts Metro Man that afternoon. Mmd missing again.

Her phone pings half an hour later. Something happen?

I got him a pair of gloves, Roxanne texts back, feeling immensely silly. Watch, Megamind will come back and the gloves will have nothing to do with his absence. U know why he’d run?

IDK. Gloves are kinda personal.

Really? she replies.

They have to be made specially for him, right?

Frustrated, she sends, Why does that make a difference?

Means you’re willing to go to additional effort. You’re already thinking about him even when he’s not there and you’re paying close enough attention to know he’d want them.

Roxanne grinds her teeth for a second. Still not seeing a problem.

He calls her instead of responding via text. “Roxie, you gave a personalized, custom gift to someone who’s spent basically his whole life convinced he’s not worth giving two shits about, and you’re really not able to get why that might freak him out?” Metro Man sounds as annoyed as Roxanne feels. 

She recoils, unsure where the rudeness is coming from. Metro Man doesn't usually swear. “Convinced is a little strong,” she protests. “He’s not that bad.”

“Uhh, yeah, he is. Trust me, I know.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I spent most of our childhood beating it into him,” Metro Man snaps. “Me and pretty much everybody else.” There’s a pause while Roxanne gapes into the middle distance, blindsided by both his tone and the revelation. “Look, Roxie, I was a spoiled, jealous, mean little kid. I was in high school before I finally got some sense knocked into me. And by then, the damage was done, so yeah, I’d say he’s pretty convinced. Okay?”

Roxanne blinks. “Are you…wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah. I bullied the hell out of him. Straight-up. Nobody cared enough to stop me. Heck, they joined in half the time.”

“Why are you telling me this?” It’s so abrupt that it leaves her head spinning. What on Earth?

“Oh, gee, I don’t know!” Metro Man says, sharp, and Roxanne’s eyebrows fly up her forehead—sarcasm isn't like him, either. “Definitely not because I feel responsible and I’m worried he’s off having some kind of crazy meltdown somewhere because someone’s finally giving him the time of day. Good gravy, Roxie, why do you think?”

Roxanne waits for a moment, then says quietly, “Wayne. Come on.”

A tired-sounding scoffing sigh crackles over the line. “Sorry. Not fair to take it out on you.” He sighs again. “Well, now you know.”

Roxanne isn’t sure how much of his “feeling responsible” is fair, since Metro Man feels responsible for pretty much everything. But then, maybe this is why. Guilt would explain why he’s been so ready to help, and it would certainly explain why he was always so quick to defend Megamind when Roxanne tried to gripe to him about the villain in the past. She takes a deep breath. “So…what should I do?” she asks.

“Heck if I know. Just leave your door unlocked and hope he comes back. He probably will. But if Minion’s dead, I don’t know whether…” He trails off, then resumes with, “Anyway, he’ll probably be back. Listen, I gotta go, I hear sirens.”

Scowling, Roxanne hangs up. “Great,” she mutters. No actual help from Metro Man’s quarter, and that evening when she gets home, she finds her landlord finally got around to sending her the second set of keys she had requested more than a week ago. The keys only make her feel worse.

Is it true, though? Is that why Megamind asked again if he could stay when he brought his clothes home—he doesn’t think she would want him to stay as long as he needs to? What the hell? Surely, she thinks, there must have been someone besides Minion to tell him not to listen to the bullies at school. One of the guys at the prison must have cared. They must have. 

But nobody who could have actually helped, she thinks. 

But he’s a hugely successful supervillain! He’s wildly intelligent, he’s witty, he’s…athletic? He has good fashion sense? He’s a good listener. He must know that whatever Metro Man said back then isn’t true anymore, if any of it was true to begin with. 

She bites her lip, staring at her phone, wondering if she accidentally caused some kind of existential crisis and hoping he’ll be there when she gets home. He isn’t, and she goes to work the next morning feeling like she’s swallowed a bag of rocks. She’s too nervous to eat lunch or focus much on what she’s doing.

But that evening there’s a knock on the door and Megamind is standing in the hall when Roxanne opens it, and she’s so glad to see him that she can’t even be upset. “Megamind!” she exclaims, and she’s this close to hugging him—but then she remembers that he has issues with touch and maybe she’d better not. She settles for awkwardly patting his shoulder and then pulling him inside by the elbow.

Megamind stiffens when she starts towards him, but she looks relieved rather than angry and it throws him off. He’d expected yelling about being gone for three days with no word. 

“You’re back,” Roxanne says as she closes the door behind him. She’s smiling. Smiling and staring at him. This is not the response he was anticipating. “Good, that’s…good.”

“I…” Megamind says, then clears his throat. “I can find somewhere else, if…I don’t want to, um, I think the phrase is ‘over stay my invitation?’”

But Roxanne shakes her head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I…it’s nice having you around, I’m used to the company now. It was too quiet with you gone.” She swallows, changes the subject. “Where’d you go?”

“I needed to get…some things,” he says in an odd sort of monotone. “S-sorry. I’m. Going to brush my teeth now.”

Roxanne nods. “Okay, sure, whatever,” she says, then collapses back into her orange armchair. Okay. He’s back. He didn’t go throw himself off a bridge. I didn’t ruin everything. Her hands are shaking, so she puts her face in them. “Okay,” she whispers into her palms, and sits, and tries to relax for a while.

“Miss Ritchi?”

She jumps. Back so soon? she thinks, and suppresses the desire to laugh. “Megamind, for goodness sake. You live here; I think we’re on a first-name basis.”

He colors. “Roxanne, then,” he says. “I…picked this up while I was out. For you,” and he ducks forward and puts a velveteen jewelry case on the arm of her chair before skipping back again.  

Roxanne arches an eyebrow at him and opens the little magnet, moves the soft fabric away, then looks sharply up at Megamind. “You didn’t have to.”

It’s a tennis bracelet, silver with pale green stones. Roxanne looks at it, then looks back up at Megamind for a long, long moment. He fidgets but doesn’t say anything. This is to offset the gloves, Roxanne knows. Part of her wants to tell him he really shouldn’t have, that the gloves were a gift, she doesn’t need anything in return.

The rest of her knows he won’t buy that. 

Finally she says, “It’s lovely. Is it okay if I hug you?” He looks taken aback at that one, but after a startled pause, he gives her a jerky nod. “Thanks,” she says, and rises, steps close, pulls him in. 

Megamind pats her on the back a few times with one hand, leaving his other arm handing stick-straight by his side. Roxanne nearly laughs; it’s like he’s never hugged anybody before. “Put your arms around me, doofus,” she tells him with a little squeeze. Gingerly, Megamind obeys. He’s not very good at this, Roxanne thinks, amused, and tries to ignore the little voice in the back of her head that whispers, But he’ll learn.

She pulls back after only a couple seconds. Megamind looks vastly bewildered about this most recent turn of events, and Roxanne decides that as long as she’s got him off-balance she might as well go all the way. “Hey, um, a little while ago, I asked my landlord for a spare set of keys. They sent them up yesterday, so…you don’t have to knock anymore when you get back in.” She reaches for the bowl, pulls out a ring of four keys and hands it to him. “Here.”

Megamind takes the keys because there’s not much else for him to do, then stares at them. His gaze flicks to Roxanne and his brow furrows. “Miss Ritchi,” he says, because that feels infinitely more safe than calling her Roxanne, “why are you doing this?”

Roxanne pinches her lips together. She’s been thinking about that a lot over the past couple days. “Well,” she says slowly, “a few reasons. But I guess the main one is that life’s boring without you in it, and…you need a place to stay.” She offers him a half-smile. “And if you can’t go to your home, I want you to stay at mine.”

Megamind blinks at her, then down at the keys in his hand, and feels more lost than ever. He had thought cooking and doing chores and taking over the things Minion had done for him would make him feel balanced, but it didn’t. So then he had thought a gift like the bracelet would make him feel balanced, but that isn’t working, either. 

“You look like you want to say something,” Roxanne tells him. “What’s up?”

He raises his head. “I kidnap you,” he says. “I aim guns and flamethrowers at you. You’ve nearly died at my hands. And you…” He trails off, feeling like his heart’s about to leap into his throat. “You’re giving me keys.”

Roxanne frowns at him. “Why does any of that mean I can’t share my home with you?” she asks. “Where is that written?”

He regards her for a long moment, then says, “I’m a supervillain.”

“You’re my friend.”

Megamind closes his mouth with a snap and stares at her, sure he’s misheard. Roxanne stares right back. She’s not smiling anymore but there’s no guile in her face, and after a moment, she clenches her jaw and scowls. “You’re my friend,” she says again, “and I have been worried sick for three days, thinking I scared you off with those damn gloves. I just thought you’d like them, and I could afford it, and…and then you were gone. That’s all. I called Metro Man,” she adds, and his eyes narrow before he can stop them. “He wasn’t even surprised you took off. Something about you being convinced you’re not worth giving a shit about.” She shakes her head and cocks her hips. Megamind pulls back a little but Roxanne doesn’t wait for him to say anything. “Now, I don’t know if that’s true, but if it is…unless you’re going to stand there and, and tell me to my face that I’m wrong for wanting to do something nice for my friend…then you’ll just have to wrap your head around the fact that somebody out there actually likes you. Okay? Can you do that?”

Megamind’s lips twitch. “I can do that,” he says in a low voice. And then, before he can tell himself not to, he takes three steps forward and pushes his forehead against Roxanne’s for half a heartbeat before spinning on his heel and heading for the kitchen—partly to get a glass of water, mostly so he won’t see the look on her face. He’s not sure how she’ll respond to that one. 

“What…was that?” Roxanne asks after a couple seconds of confused silence. 

“You’re my friend too,” Megamind tells her without turning around. 

“Oh.” There’s another pause. “Good.”

He busies himself at the tap. Hopefully, she’ll never know how hard it was for him to come back here. Living here is…comfortable. Nice. It’s warm and bright and she smiles at him, she talks to him like he’s a person but she doesn’t expect an answer, she acts like the answers he gives aren’t halting and odd. Living here is wonderful. 

Living here also freaks him out something fierce. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop and he doesn’t know where he is without Minion. If Minion were here, Megamind could breathe easily. If Minion were here, Megamind wouldn’t struggle to find the first step to standing up and doing something. And yes, he’s starting to get the hang of it again, but that comes and goes with the humming in his mind; if Minion were here, Megamind wouldn’t have lost track of himself to begin with. 

Sleeping underground was safer, it was more familiar; it was lonely and dark and there were no expectations. As much as Roxanne hasn’t mentioned any expectations, Megamind can’t help but feel like they exist and he’s missing them. 

He almost wasn’t going to come back. He had fled back to the drainage system under Metro City, where it was cold and damp and lonely and he knew the score, and he had almost gathered up all his bedding and moved it to a secondary location deeper down where they wouldn’t be able to find him even knowing he was in the storm drains. At least then he would be safe. But…

But it was cold down there. And it was damp, and dark, and he missed having a bed more than he had realized he would. And Roxanne said he could stay, so…

He swallows. When the other shoe does finally drop, when Roxanne realizes he’s only partly himself without his Minion, when she finally figures out he’s an inarticulate, invasive buffoon and she kicks him out for good…that’s when he’ll go back below. He can go back anytime, anyway; he doesn’t have to stay. But he does want to stay, so…as long as she lets him, he will. He’ll bring groceries when he can. He’ll bring her gifts. He’ll do what he can to maintain the balance because right now balance is all he knows how to do. 

He leans heavily on the sink with a gentle humming in his mind and not his ears, missing Minion. 

Chapter Text

Soundtrack Link (YouTube)

 Several nights later, Megamind wakes with a start from the middle of a dream in which there are too many rooms with too many windows and too many eyes outside, and he’s running, he’s looking for something but he can’t find it and he can’t remember what it was he was looking for.

For a moment, he stares up at the ceiling, confused. He doesn’t ordinarily wake up while he’s dreaming, so what…? 

Ah. Roxanne. She’s sleep-talking again—although perhaps sleep-yelling might be more accurate in this case. This isn’t the first time Megamind has heard her voice from behind the wall, but this is certainly the loudest.

And this is the first time he’s heard her sound scared. Maybe he should do something. What’s she saying? He sits up as he listens, tilting his head to hear better.

She’s not saying much that he can understand, mostly just yelling and distressed noises with some “no”s thrown in here and there. Concerned, he gets out of bed and creeps over to Roxanne’s bedroom door, opening it as gingerly as he can and poking his head in. Nothing bad happens, but he’s still about to chicken out—Megamind does not want Roxanne to wake up and find him in her bedroom while she’s asleep. He’s not okay with that and he’s never been okay with it; he’s always refused to be that kind of—

And that’s when Roxanne throws a “Megamind” in with all the distressed noises, and Megamind forgets all about standards and comfort levels. He doesn’t know if she’s calling for him or warning against him, but either way, that dream needs to end now. He walks quickly to her bed, turning on her bedside lamp so that she won’t wake to darkness and shadows, and reaches for her shoulder. “Miss Ritchi?” he hisses, squinting in the sudden glare, shaking her. “Roxanne!”

She comes awake with a little shriek, sees him looming over her, and punches him square in the teeth.

Megamind oofs, stumbles, almost falls because she caught him so off-balance. “Ow,” he mumbles, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth.

Roxanne scrambles upright, disoriented and groggy, pressing her back against the headboard. “Meg-Megamind?” she stammers, staring at him as though she’s not sure what’s going on and rubbing the knuckles she’d hit him with. “What are you…?”

“This’s why I don’t help people,” he mutters, sitting on the edge of her bed and hunching a little. He takes his hand away and glances at it. No blood. Well, that’s good, for a moment he had thought his lip would be split—she didn’t hit him hard, but all bets are off when teeth are involved. “Are you okay?”

Roxanne nods, still totally bewildered. “I—yes. Yes, I’m fine, I…” She stares at him. His face has pillow-creases on it and his eyes look tired; she must have woken him up. “Oh, jeez. Megamind. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“‘S okay.” One narrow shoulder raises and lowers in a shrug. “I startled you.”

“No, it’s my fault,” she insists, because it is. “That stupid dream! Ugh, I hate these!” She shoves herself angrily backwards against her headboard, knocking her head against the wall and glaring up at the ceiling. “I have them two or three times in a row and they always suck. But I didn’t think I’d wake anyone else up with them.”

Megamind frowns at her. “This happens often?”

“Once every few months or so, I guess.” She shakes her head and sighs, leans forward to rub at her eyes. “They’re just…unsettling, that’s all. Sorry.”

Megamind is quiet, which Roxanne doesn’t mind; she’s trying to banish the hazy memory of the thing perched on the desk with its too-wide mouth showing teeth like tombstones, blood on its hands and its face, blood all the way up to its elbows, blood freckling around its bone-white eyes. Its face is different every time. Ordinarily she doesn’t remember who it looked like, but this was one of the times when the thing was just too distinctive to be forgotten.

She glances up at Megamind and a half-smile tugs at her lips in spite of herself. “You ever get bad dreams?”

He nods. After a moment, he surprises her by saying, “Helps to talk about them. Sometimes.” His eyes are flicking all over the place but they keep sliding back to Roxanne as he adds, “If you want,” and swallows.

Roxanne shrugs. Can’t hurt, she thinks, and takes a deep breath. “It’s always a different location. Usually a hotel or convention center, somewhere where there should be a lot of people.” It’s been a while since she’s told anyone about these. Usually, the first thing people ask is what causes them, but as far as she can tell, they don’t really have a cause. Some deep-seated fear of misjudging a situation, she supposes, but other than that she’s not sure. “And there’s a…a monster, or something? I don’t really know what to call it. It hardly ever looks the same twice in a row but it’s…usually human, I think.”

There’s a pause. Some sort of response seems warranted, so Megamind manages another question; Roxanne’s tone when she said usually made him prick up his ears. “But not this time?”

She glances at him, looking briefly surprised, but then she just gives a short, strange little laugh and hurries on without answering his question. “Anyway, I have to stay away from it, because if it sees me, I die.” She sighs and looks away, fiddles with the blankets in her lap. “There’s no fighting it. So…I have to find an exit, but if I don’t find it fast enough, then avoiding the monster is harder because I can’t just stay away from where people are screaming—because it’s killed them all.” Megamind blinks at her but doesn’t interrupt. She sounds almost embarrassed, if he’s reading her correctly, but this sounds more frightening than embarrassing. “So, if I don’t get out fast, then I’m, I’m trying to decide whether it’s the kind of monster that won’t retrace its steps. If it doesn’t go where it’s already been, I can just stay where everything is bloody and I’ll be safe.”

Megamind swallows. “It kills people you care about?” he guesses, startling himself with more input. Roxanne looks up at him, then shakes her head.

“No…I don’t see who it kills. It eats the bodies. If I can see who it kills, then it can see me, and…” She trails off with an uncomfortable-looking shrug and looks away again.

“It kills you,” Megamind supplies.

“Yeah. So I don’t see bodies. But there’s…blood everywhere?” This comes out as more of a question. Embarrassed, he thinks again, but he still has no idea why she’d feel any shame over a nightmare. “Teeth here and there, clumps of…anyway, it’s gross.” She stretches her legs out under the covers, oblivious to the way Megamind is staring at her. Everyone has nightmares sometimes; he’s always known that, but he’d never thought Roxanne’s would be so visceral. He never imagined Roxanne Ritchi would be one to dream about actual viscera.

“But that’s just if I decide it’s unlikely to retrace its steps,” she continues. “If I’m wrong, and it’s the type of monster that likes familiarity, then I should stay where the floors are clean. But it’s basically a toss-up; there’s no way to know which kind of thing it is…” She trails off with another sigh.

“You said my name,” Megamind tells her. He scuffs his feet on her carpet a little, nervous about the answer to what he’s been wondering since she’d started talking. She glances at him. “Towards the end, you…”

“Yeah, that was…that was new,” she admits with the same weird laugh from before. “I—I made it to the stairs, but you were…I mean, it wasn’t you! I mean…well, anyway.” She rubs her eyes a little and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Anyway, it was crouched on top of the front desk, staring right at me. Its eyes were white. And it…didn’t have your beard. For some reason.” She rubs her hand backwards through her short hair, shaking her head. “God. I’m…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Megamind stares at her for another moment, then stands. “I should go.”

“What? No—” She reaches out and grabs his wrist. “No, stay.”

He tugs away, his lip curling, and she drops her hand. “Miss Ritchi, if you’re having dreams of me like…that…”

“No, no, I told you, it wasn’t you,” she insists, and she certainly looks honest enough. The embarrassment makes sense, now, when she shrugs and flushes and says, “It just…looked like you, this time.” She swallows hard, but doesn’t lean away from him. She’s still sort of reaching for him, her hand on the blankets where it fell when he pulled back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tell you the last part. If—if it helps, it’s looked like Metro Man before.”

Megamind hesitates, then slowly sits back down. “It…it has?”

Roxanne nods. “A couple times. This is actually the first time it’s had your face.” She scrubs both hands down her face with a groan. “Ugh, I wasn’t gonna say anything about it looking like you,” she mumbles.

“Hm.” He pauses, sucking on his sore lip and staring down at his feet. I should say something, he thinks. Something funny. Something to ease the tension. I should say something ridiculous. “So…so this would be a bad time to show you the trick where I can roll my eyes back in my head.”

Roxanne groans and kicks at him from under the covers, but she’s grinning. Megamind relaxes. That must have been the right thing to say. “You goof,” Roxanne says. “No, don’t show me that trick right now. Are you okay?” she adds, and it’s so sudden that he looks over and blinks at her for a full second. “I really didn’t mean to hit you, I just…the thing came at me like it usually does when it catches me, and when I woke up and you were there, I…”

He shakes his head. “I’ve had worse. Not my first bruised lip. Trust me.”

“Still, I’m sorry. Let me see?” She reaches forward and takes him by the chin, turns his face towards her; startled, he lets her, though he stops breathing for a moment when she brushes the pad of her thumb across his lower lip. Roxanne frowns at his mouth, looking for a visible bruise and seeing none, just some swelling—and then she realizes how huge Megamind’s eyes are and what exactly she’s just done, and she jerks her hand back, blushing furiously. “Oh…crap, I’m sorry, I’m…I keep forgetting you don’t like to be touched. Probably still half-asleep. Not an excuse, I’m so sorry.”

He turns away again, looking almost like she’s just punched him again. “I,” he says unevenly, then clears his throat. “If you’re feeling better, I should really go. Back to bed.”

Feeling like a heel, she nods. Megamind woke her up from a nightmare, and in return for his trouble she smacked him in the face and invaded his space. And on top of that, even though Roxanne knows he doesn’t respond well to touch, all she wants to do is ask him for a hug. Good lord, can I stop being so freaking selfish?

She swallows. “Right, right, of course,” she says. “Thanks, though. For, um, waking me up. And sitting with me. I appreciate it.” She turns out the bedside light without mentioning hugs; he was uncomfortable enough last time and she’s already abused him enough for one night.

Megamind pauses at the door and looks back, but she’s already lying back down and doesn’t see. He opens his mouth—to say what, he isn’t sure; probably “good night” or something equally inane—but Roxanne interrupts him, heaving a quiet sigh and whispering, “God, let him be okay,” and Megamind realizes that she thinks he’s already gone.

He steps quietly out of the room, leaving the door cracked behind him to let some light in.

Sleep takes a while to find him again. Roxanne’s hand, gentle on his jaw, her fingertips on his skin…that was new. New, and…nice, and…

And he wants to ask Minion about it. Fuck.

Of course he can’t tell Roxanne that most of his shock when she touched him had stemmed from the fact that she was, as she’d said, half-asleep; Megamind would never have anticipated she might reach out in such an uninhibited state. Especially after a dream like the one she described. But he can’t tell her that, and he can’t ask Minion about it, either. He won’t be able to ask Minion about anything ever again, and it’s his fault, and if he had just tried harder he could have fixed it and Minion would be here.

Not for the first time, his mind starts to cycle through everything he’d done before leaving the Lair. Megamind is left staring up at the ceiling in the dark again, feeling his breath start to shiver in his lungs, watching as the dim room blurs and swims. Dammit, he thinks, choking, I just want this to stop.

He pulls the spare pillow out from under his arm and presses it to his face with both hands to muffle his sobs.

He wakes with a hiss from a dream of hands—other hands, not his hands—and a voice, not his—and slender fingers tangling in his dorsal ridges and ventral ganglia—he wakes to the push-pull of currents, weeds rising and dancing in dappled light. 

Ah. Yes. This, again. 

Wait. ‘This again,’ or should it be ‘this, still?’ He’s losing track. 

He was running on raw instinct when he struggled into the only place that felt like home. He was badly confused, cut loose and spinning, and he’s still running on instinct and now he can’t seem to find his tongue anymore. Or maybe it’s that he can’t find words to fit his tongue. He isn’t sure.

He had words, once. He had hands, too, and a singing in his mind and heart. Once upon a time he had run on those, set his life to the singing instead of raw instinct, but he’s having a hard time following the tune now that he can’t hear it anymore. The rhythm is gone.

The memories hurt and he pushes them away and dives deep, heading deep for icy dark until the weeds thin and the rocks smooth out below him; he finds subtle comfort in the heavy weight of water and the pressure rocking him close to the bottom. Prey swims close, attracted to his light, and for a while he thinks of nothing, losing himself in the stones and shipwrecks. The moon’s rhythm is achingly slow, but it’s all he has, anymore.

The next night is Friday, and Megamind is loath to go to sleep. He stands in front of the glass doors that lead out onto Roxanne’s deck, staring at nothing, thinking of Minion, thinking of Roxanne, thinking that he almost can’t stand the way everything is starting to feel normal.

Something needs to change. Megamind’s not sure what, he’s not sure Roxanne even realizes how close he is to breaking and running, but he knows—somewhere deep in the back of his head where Minion was cut away—he knows running again would be a bad idea. He’s been telling himself he can leave anytime if he needs to, but…

That’s starting to look less and less like an option. Better get out now, he thinks. It can’t go both ways. It…

“Hey,” Roxanne says as she comes up behind him. “Everything okay? You seem down.”

“I miss Minion,” he blurts at her reflection, entirely without meaning to. “I miss him so badly that sometimes I think I might die. I don’t know what I’m doing and I can’t seem to maintain more than one train of thought anymore, but the one I do have switches tracks so often.” His chest pulls tight but he can’t seem to stop—at least it doesn’t feel like he’s about to start crying in front of her, which is nice; he has his pride, after all—and it takes him another few seconds before he can dam the words spilling all over the place. “Minion was always there. Always. Since we were infants. And now he’s gone and I’m not…” I’m not me anymore, he almost says, but that would lead to too many questions. He can already feel himself losing track of what he’d meant, so he settles almost desperately for, “I’m not sure how to keep going. I can’t just stay here. In your life. Like a leech,” he spits, “but I don’t know what else to do.”

Roxanne stares at him. “You’re not a leech,” she protests. “Megamind, seriously, I know at some point you’ll have to figure out your own life, but there’s no rush.”

Megamind stares back at her in the glass, unable to articulate how her welcome makes his head spin. Then he turns. “We’re almost out of groceries,” he says, trying not to sound as abrupt and stilted as he feels. “Come with me.”

Roxanne reels a little, but she starts to smile as she looks back and forth between his eyes, searching. “What? Now? It’s almost midnight.”

“It’s Friday.” He’s already heading for his shoes. “You said yesterday, you have this weekend off.”

“I meant, everywhere within walking distance is closed.”

Megamind glances back at her. “Your point is?”

She follows him over to the closet, pulls out her sneakers. “My point is, we’ll be breaking and entering.”

“Hardly the worst crime I’ve been accused of,” he scoffs. Talking about this is much easier than thinking about Minion and the slowly-filling empty space in the back of his mind.

Roxanne puts her shoes on without untying the laces, something that would have made Minion go into fits about wearing them out faster, and takes something brown and leathery out of a box in the back of the closet, shoves them into her pocket. “How about theft?”

“Still not as bad as conspiracy to commit murder.” Then, at her startled glance, he explains, “Metro Man.”

It’s not much of an explanation, but then, it doesn’t need to be. Roxanne nods, her expression clearing. “Ah.”

“And it isn’t theft,” he adds, shrugging his empty duffel bag onto his shoulder and holding the door open for her as she stands up and picks up her keys. “It’s survival.” He steps into the hall after her.

“It’s illegal,” Roxanne mutters, locking up behind them. “And it’s not survival if you don’t have to do it. I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

Megamind rolls his eyes. “Oh, yes. I really twisted your arm, Miss Ritchi. Were those gloves you brought along without any prompting from me? To hide your fingerprints?”

She takes them out of her pocket, flushing. “Y-yes.”

“Mm-hm ” he says, and no one but Megamind can make two affirmative hums sounds so sarcastic. “You’re prepared, Miss Ritchi. Don’t blame me for that.”

He leads her down the back stairs and out behind the building, where he works his fingers into the rectangular grate of a storm drain. It’s solid iron and heavy, but Megamind pulls from his knees and his core and shifts the grate up and moves it sideways enough for him to drop in. Then he turns and holds his hands up to Roxanne, offering to assist her.

She hesitates, looking longingly at the narrow road that leads around her building and out to River Street. “We can’t just walk there?”

“The city has cameras everywhere. I don’t want to be seen, do you?”

“Fine.” She sits on the edge of the drain, dangling her feet in. “I’m not going to fit,” she warns. “You couldn’t have moved this grille thing a little further?”

“If I moved it more, I wouldn’t be able to close it after us,” Megamind tells her. “If I can fit, you can fit.”

She snorts. “You’re sweet, but my butt is way bigger than yours.”

“It’s not that much bigger than my head, though; it’ll fit,” Megamind says, and Roxanne drops into the storm drain, laughing, before he can realize how that might have sounded.

The ceilings of the city’s drainage system are high in this part of town, and Megamind has to jump a little in order to reach the grate and drag it back the way he found it. And dragging isn’t as simple as it sounds. If he tried to tug it back while standing on the floor, he would have no leverage at all, so Megamind keeps his palms facing towards him as though he’s about to do a chin up as he works his fingers into the grille, because the next thing he’s going to have to do is curl his whole body back up to the hole in the pavement and brace his feet on the opposite side of the drain in order to haul the grate back into place.

As much as he’d love to just leave it open—and he would love to leave the grate on the pavement where he put it, because moving the grate on the return journey is quite literally a pain—if anyone sees it ajar, that’s cause to call the police in this part of town. Megamind’s long and brilliant career was built on his not cutting corners and never leaving things up to chance; he’s not about to start now.

He dangles for a moment after the grate crashes down, then drops to the floor, breathing hard. There. The second-hardest part of the trip is done—the hardest part will come at the end. He dusts himself off with brisk movements and turns, only to find Roxanne gazing at him with an odd expression on her face.

“What?” he asks, defensive.

She peers at him for a moment longer, then says, “That thing must weigh at least a hundred and fifty pounds.”

“Closer to three hundred,” Megamind says. “Come on, this way.” The subterranean network under Metro City is extensive, and he’d like to get the expedition started. He’s not sure what possessed him to invite Roxanne along. Proof that he’s not totally inept, perhaps.

“Three hundred pounds?” Roxanne catches his arm as he starts to move past her. “But…Megamind, that has to be almost twice your body weight!”

Megamind blinks at her, turning to tug his arm away. “It’s not like I’m throwing it,” he says, surprised. She’s seen him lift heavy things before, hasn’t she?

“I know, just…” She shakes her head. “Wow. Okay. Do you have a flashlight?”

“No. Just stay close, I can see fine. And stay quiet; we’re not the only ones down here.”

Roxanne follows him through the dark, twisting tunnels, scattering rats with the sounds of her soft footsteps. The whole place smells like mold and dead things, and the only light comes in through more grates high above them—luckily, the city is brightly-lit pretty much all the time, so Roxanne can see enough to follow Megamind and stick close to the walls. Most of the walls are blank except for years of black grime, but a few are decorated with graffiti. She doesn’t recognize the tags, even when it’s bright enough for her to see them reasonably clearly.

Eventually, Megamind stops and climbs up into a narrower tunnel that branches off from the one they’re in—the new one is higher up than the floor they’ve been walking on, and Megamind turns when he’s up and offers a hand to Roxanne. She doesn’t feel bad about taking it. Three hundred, she thinks, and Megamind doesn’t groan as he pulls her up after him.

They have to walk in a half-crouch now, and Roxanne’s legs and back are aching by the time they finally stop under a grate that looks exactly like all the others. “We’re here,” Megamind says in a low voice. He puts his hands against the grate and then straightens his legs slowly, keeping his head down. The grate rises on his shoulders and he steadies it with his hands, a skinny Atlas, until it’s finally high enough for him to heave it sideways onto the pavement. 

Roxanne crawls out into a dark alley and stands up with a sigh of relief, her muscles burning from the unfamiliar exercise. She goes to the gym sometimes, but she’s never done anything like this before. Megamind steps out of the drain behind her, but all he says is, “This way. Stay close,” and he leads her behind the buildings to a door that says Employees Only.

Oddly enough, this is the first time Roxanne has felt any prickles of apprehension. She tries to laugh it off. “Really hope I’m right about you,” she whispers to Megamind.

“Right about me, how?” he hisses back, working long wires into the lock in the door handle.

“Oh, a bunch of things…you’re smart enough not to get us both caught, you’re not leading me on some wild goose chase to kill me and leave my body in a drain. That sort of thing.”

“Hmm.” The lock clicks and he pushes the door open. “Miss Ritchi, if I were going to kill you, I’d have done it ages ago.”

She doesn’t tell him that he’s acting more like his old self now than he has since she found him. It doesn’t seem like the sort of thing you tell someone, and besides, she doesn’t want to interrupt his good mood—assuming that’s what this is. “Aren’t there cameras here?”

“None that I’ve found. Believe me, I’ve looked.” He drops the duffel bag by the checkout counter and heads for the refrigeration units.

Roxanne looks around. She’s pretty sure she recognizes the store—if she’s right, they’re nearly ten blocks away from her apartment in midtown. She’s never gone inside this place, since she does most of her shopping closer to home, but she’s driven past it a few times. It’s small but reasonably well-stocked.

It’s a privately-owned store, she realizes, her heart sinking as she watches Megamind pile various foodstuffs on the counter by the bag. Probably family-owned, and Roxanne isn't sure they can afford to be robbed like this on the regular. She watches, unsure of herself and hoping Megamind will tell her if he wants her to do something, feeling her guilt mount higher by the minute. This was a bad idea. She shouldn’t have agreed to come. At least then she wouldn’t know.

Megamind finishes gathering food fairly quickly, then lingers at the counter for a while. It’s an odd counterpoint to how purposefully he was moving before; curious, Roxanne moves a little closer until she can see he’s writing something on receipt paper. Every now and then he raises his head and glances over the little pile of groceries as though he’s looking for something before continuing to write.

“What are you doing?” Roxanne asks.

“Can you start putting stuff in the bag?” Megamind ignores her question and doesn’t look up. Roxanne frowns but slowly does as he asks. This was a mistake, she thinks again. I can’t let him keep doing this. This is wrong.

She finishes packing the duffel around the same time Megamind finishes whatever he’s writing, and she’s starting to lift the bag to begin the trek home when he flutters his long hands at her in almost a shooing motion, then unzips one of the end pockets and fishes out…a wad of cash?

Stunned, Roxanne looks at the receipt paper he’d been writing on. She’d figured it was probably just inventory, and it is, it’s a list of everything they’re taking…but it’s also got costs written down along the right-hand side and a neat total at the bottom, along with what looks like a sales tax calculation. She stares, feeling sudden warmth bloom in her chest. Megamind pays for the stuff he takes?

“Michigan doesn’t tax food,” she stammers.

“Be that as it may,” Megamind says, counting out bills next to the register, “I appreciate the inconvenience of looking up all the item numbers to enter them in their system and I think six percent is fair.”

Roxanne looks around at the narrow aisles. “And you…you do this every time?” she asks.

He glances up at her and rolls up what’s left of his money, paper-clipping the ‘receipt’ to what he’s going to leave behind. “Of course,” he replies, sounding surprised. “House rules: no stealing. Besides, the owners could use a little extra; they’ve got two kids still in diapers.” He picks up the duffel and carries it to the door, past Roxanne, who’s still staring at him in stunned silence. “What?” he says again.

She shakes her head, remembering what Metro Man told her months ago: Megamind is a major force for good in this city. “Nothing. Sorry. I just…didn’t expect this.”

Megamind shrugs. “We’re still breaking and entering,” he points out, but doesn’t say much more after that. He locks the door behind them, heaves the drain cover back into place over their heads, and leads Roxanne back through the tunnels, bent double with their groceries hanging in front of him. At one point after they reach the high-ceilinged passage he stops, head tilted, and then his eyes go wide and he pulls Roxanne into a side tunnel and crouches close to the wall, tugging her down beside him without a word. A moment later, Roxanne hears footsteps echoing somewhere distant. She looks at him and cocks an eyebrow, but he only shakes his head and holds a finger to his lips. She nods.

It doesn’t matter whether they’re moving or not; she can think just as easily here by the wall as she could while walking out in the middle of the passage. Megamind had brought her with him when he didn’t have to. He’s starting to open up a little, maybe even let her in, and…Roxanne isn’t sure, but if nothing else, this trip is showing her that the Megamind she knew before is still in there. He’s too quiet, but he’d shown some snark earlier. And his frustration with not knowing how to live means he at least knows he should be living.

They have two children still in diapers, they can use the extra money. He wouldn’t have known that unless he checked. Even if Roxanne can’t always see him improving, Megamind is starting to care about the city again—if he ever stopped; he might not have. Maybe that’s why he brought her along; maybe he’s trying to show her that? The idea makes that little warm spot in her chest heat back up again. On impulse—she needs to do something to show him she’s grateful and she already knows he doesn’t respond well to verbal thanks—she mimics his gesture from the other day, leaning forward in the dark and nudging her forehead against his.

Megamind pulls back so quickly that he slams the back of his head into the wall, and then he hunches forward with both hands clamped over the back of his skull, hissing like he’s sprung a leak. After a moment, he slits an eye open and glares up at a mortified Roxanne, who mouths, Sorry, I’m sorry!

Ow. he mouths back, and she grimaces.

They wait for a few minutes after the distant footsteps fade away before resuming their journey. “Sorry,” Roxanne whispers again.

“What were you doing?” Megamind whispers back.

“I just…I don’t know,” Roxanne says, thinking, I’m starting to realize you’re way more complicated than I thought and you’re fun and I wanted to tell you and having absolutely no idea how to phrase any of that. “Just…thanks, I guess.”

Megamind shakes his head and doesn’t reply.

When they get to the grate where they entered, Roxanne looks up at the rectangle of dark sky above them. “So…how are we going to get out of here?” she asks.

“Same way we came in,” Megamind says. “Hold this.” He passes her the bag of groceries and Roxanne has to wonder how he plans to lift a three-hundred-pound metal grille when he’d almost had to jump to reach it before, but instead he jogs over to the wall down and pulls a cloth sack out from under a small pile of smelly detritus. In the sack, there’s…a box? A black box of some kind, with metal handles on either side. Roxanne raises her eyebrows, but all Megamind says is, “Stand back.” Then he hesitates. “And…maybe take off your earrings.”

Confused, Roxanne puts them in her pocket. Megamind starts to turn around, but then he spins back, looking like he’s just thought of something that spooked him.

“Um,” he says, and Roxanne can’t be sure because the light is so dim, but she thinks he might be blushing furiously, “do you…have…one of those things in your…it-it-it-it stays and it keeps you from getting pregnant? Is it metal?”

Her mouth falls open. “Are you—asking if I have an IUD?”

“I have no idea. Is that what they’re called?”

Roxanne gapes at him for a moment longer, then snorts. “I—yes, I have one, but no, it’s not metal.”

“No metal plates on your bones? No pins?” he asks, keeping his voice low, and Roxanne shakes her head. Megamind breathes a sigh of relief. “Good,” he says, and grips the box by the handles and raises it above his head.

He takes a deep breath, lets it part of the way out, stands with his legs apart and his elbows locked, plants himself like a tree directly under the grate, says, “Activate echo mike two eight seven, zero-comma-one-point-five,” and groans and sinks into his hips. Roxanne blinks. Megamind is shaking, his whole face is screwed up as if he’s in pain, there are tendons standing out on his long neck. What the…

Then she hears a scraping sound and looks up just in time to see almost three hundred pounds of solid iron lift into the air. Not far, and not quickly, but the grate lifts high enough that when Megamind jerks his arms to the side with a pained little sound, it slides sideways and clatters loudly to the pavement. “De-deactivate,” Megamind grits through clenched teeth. “Turn off, you blasted—deactivate!” and he all but collapses, staggering sideways when the box powers off and falls to the floor with a thunk.

“That’s an electromagnet,” Roxanne says. Megamind, gasping and bracing his hands on his knees, gives her a shaky nod. “You just… from a foot away?”

The amount of force it took to lift the grate would have been pushing down on the electromagnetic device and, by extension, on Megamind. Roxanne can feel herself gaping all over again, but what comes out when she finds her voice again is not “I’m impressed!” (which she is) or “where did you find that thing?” (which she wants to know very badly) but an angry, “What the hell were you thinking, holding it above your head?”

He looks up at her. “—What?”

“If you lost your grip it would have killed you!” she shrieks in a hoarse whisper, staring at him and wishing she didn’t have to worry about her volume. “That box would’ve hit your head with I don’t even know how many Newtons of force and I’d be scraping your gray matter off the floor of this tunnel!”

Megamind blinks at her, slowly straightening, wincing when something pops in his back. “I wouldn’t drop it.”

“No.” Roxanne shakes her head, stalks up to him. “I won’t stand for reckless negligence. Not from you.” Megamind doesn’t back away when she pokes him in the chest. “You’re a genius,” she tells him, staring straight into his eyes. “And you’re going to take that magnet up to my apartment, and you’re not doing this again until you’ve figured out how to increase its effectiveness to the point that you can set it on the damned floor. Are we clear?”

Megamind stares for a moment, then murmurs, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She closes her eyes and breathes out, needing to reach for him and not being able to, wishing he’d let her touch him, trying to calm back down. The only thing she can think is stupid. Stupid. How can someone so smart be so stupid.

“What?” Megamind says, quiet. He still hasn’t moved away. “You want something.”

I want to hug you reach out my head on your shoulder my hands on your back. She shakes her head. “I don’t want anything you’re not willing to give.”

There’s a pause. Then Megamind says, “Tell me anyway.”

“Just…” She sighs. “Don’t…do stuff that puts your life at risk. Please. I need you to not do that.”

“Why?”

“Because amazing people aren’t allowed to risk their lives for stupid reasons,” she snaps. “Okay?”

Megamind doesn’t say anything to that for a long time, but it doesn’t sound like he’s stepping back at all. He’s just standing there. Finally, Roxanne opens her eyes, finds him studying her face and looking almost as tired as he’d looked the night she found him in the rain behind the cafe.

“I should have come to you to begin with,” he says.

“Well, now you know,” Roxanne says, and manages a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “For next time.”

Something breaks in Megamind’s expression. “If there’s a next time,” he says, “you won’t be there.”

With that, he turns away and slings the duffel bag of groceries over his shoulder before leaping to grab the edge of the storm drain and haul himself up. Once on solid ground, he turns and pulls Roxanne up after him, lifting her without protest.

After a while, he ventures back into shallower waters. At first, he still spends most of his time below the thermocline, but the big fish he passed on his descent give him food for thought; they’re many times longer than he is and he could eat for a week on one of them. But they’re far bigger than he can tackle with only his teeth and they’re covered in odd, bony plates that he isn’t sure even his jaws can crush. He watches them swim overhead as he plots their demise, spending more and more time above the thermocline, where the water is still sun-warmed in late summer. 

Eventually he swims near shore and starts amassing lures, moving water-heavy driftwood, twisting weeds, and piling rocks. These are his resources. He understands them, and he understands leverage, and he works out a sort of deep-water deadfall that crushes one of the smaller sturgeon after only a week or so of waiting.

He tears into it with all his strength. He was right; the sturgeon does feed him for a week—and of course he was right; the sturgeon are a resource and he understands them. He spends the week not worrying about food. Instead, he works on piling stones further down, forming a rough almost-circle, a wall, while he picks the sturgeon clean.

He arranges the sturgeon’s bones around the top of it, forming a rough roof. Yurt, he thinks, but it takes him a while to fully remember what that is and he can’t quite bring his tongue into position to get the word out. It doesn’t matter; there’s no one to listen anymore.

When winter comes and the sturgeon move south, there are smaller fish, round like little bullets, and there are lots of them—they stay mostly still, and they’re easy prey. He doesn’t mind the cold that much.

Several full moons into his solitude, with spring on the rise, a boat anchors near his yurt. Curious, he swims higher. Can he use this? The anchor, the chain? The boat’s shadow? He hears voices humming through the hull and freezes—remembers the singing undercurrent behind his thoughts, remembers—for a moment—what he’s lost—everything, all of it, he’s been trying not to think of it—had succeeded for nearly a whole month—

He pulls away from the boat and retreats down the anchor chain, clicking in his throat, fins drooping, and he presses himself hard into the stones of his shelter, gives himself to cold and dark, aching in his bones and heart.

Chapter Text

Soundtrack Link (YouTube)

Saturday and most of Sunday pass in awkward semi-silence. But Sunday night around eleven o'clock, Roxanne is working at the kitchen table, researching, thinking Megamind is already asleep when he says, very close behind her, "You should go to bed."

She yips and nearly falls out of her chair, then lapses into breathless laughter. "I didn't hear you get up," she exclaims, pressing a hand to her chest and panting through the adrenaline. "You scared me."

Megamind just looks at her, his green eyes luminous in the semi-darkness, and doesn't say anything. It's his usual response, but Roxanne isn't sure she'll ever get used to it. His silence is even more unnerving after how talkative he was on Friday's 'shopping' trip.

She swallows. "Am I keeping you awake?" she asks.

His gaze slides sideways for a moment, but he shakes his head.

What does that mean? Roxanne wonders. No, but yes? Yes, but no? She's already learned that telling him to use his words doesn't yield any results, and she's learning to ignore the things she doesn't understand rather than try and interpret them. "Look, I'll go to bed soon," she says. "There's just…I've been really behind with everything going on so I haven't had time, but I've been meaning to look into two-be—"

"Are you hungry?" he interrupts.

She blinks. "I could eat," she says slowly.

"I'll grill you a cheese," he tells her, and moves silently into the kitchen, already slipping his gloves off as he goes to take the frying pan out of its cupboard. These days, the only time Roxanne sees him bare-handed is when he's doing something in the kitchen. She can't believe the gloves held up as well as they did on Friday; it looks like Dave at the leather apparel shop knows what he's doing.

His phrasing is off, of course—grill me a cheese?—and Roxanne can't help her quiet chuckle as she turns back to her computer, hoping it will hide the fact that she's thinking again that she'd give just about anything to have the old Megamind back, the one who laughs. What would he have been like as a roommate?

Honestly, she would give just about anything to have Minion back. She always liked Minion.

A chipped plate clinks on the counter next to her arm a few minutes later, and then Megamind slides into the chair next to hers. He's 'grilled a cheese' for himself, too, and he eats one-handed—his other hand has its glove back on.

Roxanne still isn't sure what the whole story is behind the gloves. For now, she's assuming it's a comfort thing.

They eat in silence for a while, and then she says, "Seriously, how are you doing?"

Megamind pauses, puts his sandwich down. Looks at his plate. Breathes. "I think…I'm not good at being alone," he says, and there's a pause, but it doesn't look like anything more is forthcoming. After a few seconds, he picks up his sandwich again and resumes eating, resumes staring into the middle distance.

Roxanne nods slowly. "My sister died when I was a kid," she says. The words are hard. They've never gotten much easier, even though it's been so many years. "She was riding her bike. Her new bike. And there was a car." She presses her lips together, then glances over—and finds Megamind is looking at her. His expression is inscrutable, but he's looking, at least.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"Yes," Roxanne agrees. "Thanks."

There's a long, awkward pause, and then Megamind says, in his odd, stiff way, "Is this the point at which someone normal would reach out?"

Roxanne can't help but smile as she nods. And, to her surprise, Megamind pats her shoulder very quickly before dropping his hand back onto the counter and flexing his gloved fingers, clearly feeling strange. Then he returns to polishing off the last of his sandwich, which was already mostly gone.

Roxanne bumps him with her elbow and he looks at her again, one eyebrow cocked in a silent question. He's not sure what that meant. Does she want to be left alone? But she's looking at him with a little smile, looking expectant. After a moment she bumps him again, a little harder, and raises her eyebrows back at him. Tentatively, Megamind moves his arm and nudges her, the same way, and she grins, and then something clicks in his head and he bumps again and pushes, and she pushes back, smiling now, and then they're both shoving each other and scrabbling at the countertop for leverage, trying to keep from pushing so hard they slide off their own chairs.

Roxanne loses the battle and crashes to her butt on the floor with a little scream followed by some sleepy giggles, and to her surprise, Megamind appears at her side a second later and he's actually grinning.

"You're fun," he declares, snapping his other glove around his wrist and wiggling his fingers to settle the leather. For a moment, he sounds like he used to. Playful and careless.

"I try," Roxanne replies, grinning. The kitchen floor is not a place she ordinarily wants to spend much time, since she's never been as good about cleaning it as she thinks she probably should be. It tends to be sticky. But it hasn't been sticky in a few weeks, and as she glances around and notices that it's much cleaner than she's seen it in a long time, she realizes—this is yet another thing Megamind has taken care of for her.

She frowns. He's perceptive, all right, but he was like that even in the beginning of his stay with her, before he started opening up. He had known things that weren't on her little chore lists, folded towels the way she likes without having to be shown…and yeah, it's just towels and Megamind is a genius, but he never seemed to have much common sense before all this. On top of that, lately he's even shown a startling ability to guess what Roxanne is feeling like for dinner even before she comes home; he's started to have things ready for her when she walks in the door. It's nice and she's grateful, but it's unsettling. Doubly so because he still seems to get lost in his head a lot; perceptiveness should run counter to that. Shouldn't it?

Suddenly worried, Roxanne bites her lip for a moment, then swallows. "Can I ask you something?" she says, and at Megamind's wary nod, she continues, "If you could read my mind—like, actually read my mind and, and hear what I'm thinking—you would tell me, right?"

There's a startled pause, and then Megamind says, "Of course I would. That…that would…" He pauses. "It would be a violation of your privacy."

"When would you tell me?" Roxanne presses, but he seems to lock up at that one. That's fair, it was a loaded question, so she sighs and asks, "Megamind, can you read my mind?"

"No," is the low reply.

"Will you ever be able to read my mind?"

"I don't…I don't know."

She peers at him in the gloomy light. "What's that face? Uncertain?"

He studies the middle distance for a moment, eyes unfocused. "Also…doubtful? Dubious? I never—I couldn't—not with Minion, and—"

Well, that's as good as it's going to get. Roxanne pats the floor next to his hand and he stops trying to talk. "We'll assume 'no,' then, okay? Thanks," she adds, "that's…that's a relief to hear." She shakes her head and doesn't notice Megamind's audible worried gulp, doesn't notice how he's watching her, because all her focus now is on whether she should tell him what she was researching when he startled her earlier, before she minimized the web browser. If he's not psychic, it should be safe—there are still all the little coincidences to consider, but as long as Megamind isn't reading her thoughts, it must be okay. Whatever's going on with him must be on a more fundamental level.

She'll figure it out. For now, it's not worth pushing him further. She looks over at him and changes the subject. "Do you want a bedroom?"

He blinks at her, looking almost as stunned as he had the first night when she'd told him he could stay. "I…you don't have a spare…"

She shrugs. "Not yet, but I could. I'm thinking about moving, maybe getting a two-bedroom place. It wouldn't be as nice as this unless you managed an income, too," she says this part slowly, unsure of how he'll respond, "but if we stay outside the heart of downtown, the property values are much cheaper."

Megamind stares at her. "I," he says. "You couldn't…me," he tells her, all flustered bewilderment. "You…want to live with me? Really live with me?"

Roxanne shrugs again. "It's nice having a roommate," she says simply. "I didn't realize how much I'd enjoy it. I like having you around. And, like you said, you don't do so hot when you're alone, and…we get along okay so far. When I'm not yelling at you in sewers." He doesn't react to the lighthearted jab, but she grins and adds, "And you're not psychic, so it's not like you'd be 'violating my privacy' any more than you do already," making air quotes with her fingers as she paraphrases his earlier comment.

Megamind blinks again, then looks quickly away. "I'm not like this," he mutters. "Most of the time. This isn't really me."

She bumps him again, trying to bring him back to playful, keep things as light as possible. "Does 'really you' still make grilled cheeses in the middle of the night?"

He swallows. "I have odd hours. I'm. Loud. Obnoxious. You don't like real me."

"I'll be the judge of that," she says.

"No," he insists, and looks startled to be doing it, "you don't get it. I'm not like this. Quiet and…quiet. This me is…this me is broken," he says flatly, "and…and weird. And I'm glad you like broken weird Megamind but you wouldn't like me, so don't…change anything just yet," and he shakes his head hard, emphatic.

She recoils. "You're not broken," she starts to say, but Megamind shakes his head even harder.

"Yes. I am. Because Minion, because what Minion is, he's…he was part of me, our minds were…fused, somewhere," he says, forcing the past tense and only paling a little bit. "There was a link there, so you can't…a piece of my mind is gone now. It's broken now, it is. And you, you're changing it, but it won't ever be like it was. I won't ever be like I was." He clenches his jaw, clenches both fists in his lap, clenches his whole body around pain and stubborn pride. "So, so don't…don't tell me I'm not broken. Don't tell me you know me and you 'like' me. Because you don't."

But he doesn't get up and walk away, even though this is definitely the perfect time to do it. He could just stand up and leave, and Roxanne might even let him go without pushing the issue, but instead, Megamind stays where he is: half-under the edge of the island with his back to the plasterboard wall, staring at his fists and scowling.

Roxanne watches him for a few moments, stunned. So, it's not just grief, then; Megamind is actually changing, he had something burn out of his mind and go dark. Of course he would feel differently now. Maybe that's why he has such a hard time forming whole sentences sometimes?

And what was that about her changing it?

Ah. He's not consciously psychic, but he is accustomed to being part of a mind-to-mind bond. That…could explain a lot. Well, that's fine; Roxanne can think about that possibility later.

Either way, right now, she doesn't think losing Minion is the only reason he's reacting this way to her offer of finding him a space of his own. "Megamind, exactly how much of this is just you being scared you're a person that someone other than Minion might actually like and want to hang around with?"

That's when he shoves himself to his feet and stalks off.

She can't really blame him.

Interestingly, though, he doesn't leave the apartment. She's braced to hear the door slam, but all she hears is the groan of a bed frame that's not very good at supporting a futon mattress. Megamind may be prickly, but what Roxanne is taking away from all this is that he'll stay as long as she'll let him.

And why shouldn't she let him? It's always been clear that he needs a place to stay, but it's becoming increasingly obvious that he needs someplace long-term, and Roxanne doesn't mind. It's nice to have the company, even though the circumstances are undeniably tragic. And if they do move to a two-bedroom place and Megamind winds up leaving, Roxanne can always rent out the extra room to somebody else. Or have an office, or a real guest room. It's not just for him. She's thought about it before all this even started; maybe all she needed was a push.

Really frowning now, she stands up and puts on her shoes. It's late—at this point, it's past midnight—but she needs another opinion. It's time to bring in the big guns.

"I'll be back later," she says as she opens the door to go out. "I'll try not to wake you up."

Megamind doesn't answer, but then, he rarely does.

Roxanne doesn't call Wayne until she's on the street, but all she needs to say when he answers his phone is, "I need to talk to you about Megamind," and he's at her side.

"What?" he demands. "Where is he? Is he gone again? What's going on?"

Roxanne sighs and puts her cell phone away. "No, he's fine, just…can we go flying? I really need some wind in my face."

Wayne frowns at her for a moment, then shrugs. "Sure, c'mon up. But if you think we're not talking while we fly, you've got another think coming. Hup!" He tosses her onto his shoulders so she sits behind his head like a toddler. He holds onto her ankles as he takes off, which doesn't help the analogy any.

Once they're airborne, he lets go. "Okay. Spill."

Roxanne tips her head back and shuts her eyes, air rushing in her ears and whipping her hair back from her face. "So, you know about Minion."

"Yeah, the disruptor-gun. Holy crab balls," Wayne replies, but he sounds more resigned than anything else. "Is he doing any better?"

"I don't know." She sighs again, stretches her arms out airplane-style as Wayne goes into a shallow dive. "He's a little out of his head right now, I think, but…he's getting better. Slowly. He talks more, now."

Wayne is quiet for a long minute before he says, "He's still staying with you, then."

Roxanne nods. "Yeah. Sorry I didn't call to meet up sooner, I just…"

Wayne shakes his head. "No, it's okay, I get it. And I been busy anyway. But wow." He pauses, still hurtling down towards the dark lake. "You feel okay with that? He did kidnap you. A lot."

"He's been weird," Roxanne says. "Really withdrawn. Not like he was, of course; he wouldn't be."

"Not after Minion," Wayne agrees, sounding troubled.

"And apparently, they had…some kind of brain thing, I don't know specifics," Roxanne says. "A connection. He's been dealing with that, too." She doesn't want to dwell on that for too long, she needs some time to process that on her own. "But even back before all this, I mean, he was…respectful."

That earns a snort. "He was a supervillain."

"Yeah, but he tried, you know that. You helped me see that, so don't start."

"I guess so."

"And he's the only supervillain I know who I can punch in the jaw with no repercussions," Roxanne adds, eliciting a startled bark of laughter from her friend.

"You what?" Wayne says, laughing. "When was this? I don't remember this."

"Just this past week. He woke me up from a bad dream," she tells him. "He startled me and I socked him. Not hard, I mean, I was still mostly asleep, but…"

"But you've got a mean right hook." Wayne shakes his head. "He didn't do anything?"

She shrugs. "Nope, he said it was fine and it was his fault for scaring me."

Wayne rolls his eyes. "Huh. Some villain he is," he mutters, then returns to the matter at hand. "So…you think he's gonna be okay?"

Roxanne shrugs. "As okay as he can be, under the circumstances. Actually, I wanted to ask you if you think it's okay that I'm starting to really think about getting a two-bedroom apartment."

Wayne pulls out of his dive, grabs Roxanne's ankles again to hold her in place, and spins into a series of liquid barrel rolls that leave her breathless before arcing back up towards what he thinks of as cruising altitude. Roxanne knows it's coming—when he holds onto her feet it usually only means one thing—but she still has both hands twisted in his hair when they level out. Then she bops him on the head with a fist. "If you need time to think of a response, just say so, you don't have to make me dizzy," she grouses. "But…what do you think?"

"I think he needs support from someone, and we both know he won't take it from me," Wayne says seriously, leveling off. "But he's got issues, Roxie. Deep, deep issues with how he relates to people. A lot of that's my fault, but…are you sure you want to get tangled up in his problems?"

Roxanne groans. She didn't want him to second-guess her on that, she only wanted his input on her idea. She knows Megamind has issues, but so does everyone, to some degree; issues don't make somebody a problem. And… "I'm already pretty tangled," she admits, thinking of what Megamind said in the drain, thinking of the way he seems to be improving, thinking of his link with Minion and how that might relate to the way he's getting disturbingly good at figuring out what Roxanne wants done, "but I don't mind. Really, I'd rather it be me than anyone else."

The realization that that's actually true strikes her as the words leave her mouth. Somebody else might hurt him, might not care about understanding, might not be willing to let him stay. With her, at least, Megamind will be safe, and Roxanne won't have to worry about how he's faring somewhere else. 

Wayne nods slowly. "Honestly, I think you're the one person he's most likely to trust, just 'cause of how long he's known you. Do you want…y'know, uh. Financial help?" He sounds almost tentative now, twisting his head to try and look over his shoulder at her. The angle's all wrong and it doesn't quite work, but he tries.

It'd be nice, but… "That's okay." Roxanne shakes her head, then keeps shaking it because of how the motion makes her hair move in the constant wind. "No, I'm…I'm good, if I need help, I'll ask. Can I free-fall?"

"Only if you promise not to try and dodge me, like last time," Wayne grumbles. "Hold on, lemme get a little higher first."

"I wasn't trying to dodge you; there was a pigeon, I told you."

"Liar. I can't just catch you, you know; I gotta allow time for deceleration. If you don't want a parachute, you play by my rules, got it?"

Roxanne rolls her eyes. "I know, I know."

This far over the lake and this high up, everything is quiet. Metro Man rolls over and Roxanne flips onto her stomach and falls silently, her arms out, her fingers grasping at the wind and clouds. She would kill to be able to do something other than plummet—even just gliding would be something; she doesn't need to fly—but that's not in the cards for her. She's not the star of this show; she's not the one with powers or superhuman intelligence. She's just the watcher.

She unzips her jacket and grabs its flapping corners, holds it tightly open and tilts her body a little bit, banking awkwardly left. There's a ship below her, its lights getting closer. This is right about when Wayne should show up again…

He rolls into view almost as soon as she thinks it. "You're getting better at that," he says, matching her speed and reaching out with both hands. "Wanna hit the water?"

"Yeah," Roxanne says, and his huge hands close around her forearms so he can put on the brakes as she grips his wrists with her fingers. It's only a few seconds before she's hanging vertically; she can't recline in the air without the speed of falling buoying her up.

She's facing backwards as they approach the water, Wayne now flying forward and down instead of just down, but when they get close he rolls suddenly and tosses her high. Roxanne keeps her legs together and pulls her arms to her chest as she spins, only to throw them out to her sides again when Wayne catches her by the waist half an arm's length above the waves. The air this close to the water is miraculously free of turbulence.

"You're a natural in the air," he says. "Seriously, I'm amazed how comfortable you are with all this…flying and super-stuff. Not to mention alien fish disappearing into thin air."

"I've always been okay with weird," Roxanne replies, starting to shiver. Summer or not, the nights are cool here and the wind over the lake is always pretty strong. "It doesn't hold any pretenses. Normal stuff gets weird, but when stuff is already weird, you know where you stand."

He snorts. "You saying weird is predictable? Bit of an oxymoron."

"I'm saying it's dependable."

They turn and head back towards the noise and light of the city, Metro Man shaking his head and Roxanne dipping her fingers into the cool waves in spite of the chill. "But then again," she says quietly, watching the looming skyline grow in her field of view, "maybe they're the same thing."

She goes back up to her apartment and unlocks the door as quietly as she can, expecting Megamind to be asleep—but she's surprised to see him sitting on the couch in the dark, his eyes reflecting the glow of the hallway lights like a cat's. "Megamind?" She pauses just inside the doorway. "Everything okay?"

"I'm," he says haltingly. He sounds almost confused, halfway frightened if Roxanne didn't know better. Vastly uncertain, that's for sure. He tries again, fragments of sentences dancing around what he's trying to say. "I shouldn't. I snapped at you. That was wrong."

She steps fully inside, reaches for the light as the door closes behind her, but stops when sees Megamind shake his head. In the dark, then.

Sometimes it's easier when you can't see faces.

"I get it, though," she says, cautious. "Why you'd be upset. I remember how you were, back when…when you were on top of your game. But I only saw one side of you and you're not just some cackling supervillain; there's more to you than that, I know there is."

It's like he hasn't even heard her. "You've done a lot for me. So much. And. You keep doing more. For…me? I don't…I don't really know where to go with that." He presses his hands to the couch on either side of his legs, his fingers splayed. "I don't know what you want. From me. In exchange."

Roxanne flops into her armchair, suddenly exhausted. This again. This business about exchange. "I don't want anything from you, Megs. I'm not doing this for favors. I like the company. And it's not just because of you," she adds. "Even if you moved out, I'd still need a bigger place eventually." She rubs her eyes, remembering how he was about the gloves. "I should've phrased it differently earlier," she mumbles. "Should've thought how it would sound to you."

He stares at her. "You. Don't want anything?" He sounds totally baffled by the concept.

She shrugs. "Do you have an income?" she asks.

Megamind fidgets. "I can get money."

"Do you have money coming in?" she presses. "Legally?"

"No. But I have money. I can give you money." He's starting to sound relieved. "How much…how much is rent?"

She tells him. His eyes nearly fall out of his head. "But you don't even own the place!" he exclaims, shocked into a full sentence, free of stumbles. "You're paying that much and you aren't even building any eeequity?"

Roxanne lips twitch. Now, that sounded like the old Megamind. "No," she confesses. "I used to worry about that, but…I figured I didn't really need a house if I have this place. It's close to my office, it's close to everything."

"I could buy you a condo," Megamind tells her. "One of the nice ones. Outright."

She tilts her head. "Where do you get money?"

He shoots her a look that Roxanne recognizes even in the dark. Eyebrow cocked, eyelids lowered, almost smirking. "Please. I'm a genius who builds things. I buy stuff, I build stuff, I sell stuff."

"You're living off your savings right now, though," she points out, and his half-conceived smirk shatters. "I don't want to jeopardize your long-term plans."

"I don't have long-term plans," he says flatly. "Not anymore."

"Sorry." She's not even sure what she's apologizing for, but it still feels like the right thing to do. "We don't have to talk about this now. We have time, we'll figure it out." She pauses, thinking, we could go back to the Lair, but she knows better than to suggest that. Feeling awkward, she rubs her fingertips against the fabric of the armchair. "…How much space would you need for a…a workshop-type area?"

Megamind blinks at her, then does that sideways look with his eyes again. Even in the dark, she can tell; his whole head tilts a certain way when he does it. "That's probably not a good plan," he says. "Don't worry about that. Not in the city."

Not in the city… Her eyes narrow. "You mean, it'd have to be outside the city? In case something exploded, or…"

He nods. Fidgets.

"Talk to me, Spaceman, or I won't know what to do."

Deep breath. "Don't pick your location based on me," he says. "If…if I do start again…the size requirements would be…unrealistic. For you. So don't. Please?"

Roxanne watches him as best she can in the darkness, then shrugs. "Okay. That seems reasonable," she says. Then she stands up. "And now I'm going to sleep for a while. I have to be up in three hours and tomorrow's going to suck."

Megamind nods and rises as well, but he doesn't say anything until Roxanne is almost to her bedroom. Then he startles her with, "Roxanne?"

She turns. For a moment, in the light coming through her glass doors, Megamind looks like he's about to say something important or take a step forward, but then his gaze slips away and he slumps a little. "S-sleep well."

"You too," Roxanne says with a little smile. He'll tell her when he's ready.

In the morning, she wakes to a text from Metro Man. Didn't get a chance to say anything tonight but I've been at the lair. Something weird about that gun. Need to talk to you when you're awake. Lunch tomorrow?

Roxanne shakes her head. 'Something weird,' he says, but he won't say what. Once again, not helpful. Tuesday, she texts. I'm swamped today.

How would he know there's anything weird going on?

She gets home late that evening and finds all the lights off. Thinking Megamind is out somewhere, she turns them on and heads for her room to get changed. It's only when she comes back out and starts throwing something together for dinner that she hears a soft scuffle from behind Megamind's screen.

Crap. Was he sleeping when she came in? Did she wake him up? But it's not that late, it's only about nine or so; he never goes to bed this early. Worried, Roxanne approaches his privacy screen and pokes her head around it. Yep, there's Megamind—wearing her star sweater and sitting up in bed, the covers pooled around his waist, his expansive forehead in his hands.

"Hey," she says, startled and stepping fully around the screen. "Why are you in bed? Are you sick?" She starts to step forward but her foot hits something that clinks and she glances down at an empty bottle of Jack Daniels and a glass tumbler. Part of her registers amusement that it's Tennessee Honey, because of course it would be sweet, but most of her is just alarmed and confused as she looks back up at the alien. "Are you drunk?" That's a new one.

Megamind groans and slumps farther forward. "Not drunk enough," he mumbles, and Roxanne sees the second bottle, not empty but mostly finished, sitting on the end table she had lent him for a nightstand. She can't remember the last time she drank any whiskey, herself, but she knows she had some around. Both bottles must have started out at least mostly full. God, how much does he weigh? How often does he drink? She's never seen him have alcohol in all the time he's been living with her, and she's never smelled it on him—he must be out of practice. How is he not dead or unconscious right now?

Without another word, she turns and gets her little plastic wastebasket from its place by the couch, dumps its crumpled contents into her kitchen trash, and brings the empty can back over to Megamind's bed. "Here," she says shortly.

He slits an eye open and looks at it. "'Zat for?"

"For you," Roxanne tells him.

"Gee thanks," he replies, "lucky me, a garbage can."

She rolls her eyes. "To throw up in, asshole. Have you vomited at all, yet?"

Megamind blinks up at her, then shutters his expression. "Nah," he says, "'m good like this."

"Megamind, if you don't throw up in the next five minutes, I'm taking you to the emergency room," Roxanne snaps. She puts the bucket in his lap with more force than is probably necessary, but it tips over and rolls off the side of the bed and bounces off her foot as Megamind scowls and starts to lie down. "You just drank almost two whole fifths of whiskey!"

He stops halfway through curling onto his side, then turns and frowns at her like he's trying to figure something out. "Almost two fifths…?" He looks around, sees the bottle on his nightstand, then sneers to himself and reaches for it.

Roxanne snatches it out of his hand and Megamind blinks at her, already glaring as she backs away. "What're you…thazz mine," he snarls, throwing his covers back and planting both feet on the floor, taking a staggering step forward. "Give it back!"

"No," Roxanne says, now deeply annoyed. "Four minutes and thirty seconds, Megamind. I want fingers in throats. Now."

"You're not the boss of me, you're not Minion," he hisses, and he makes it one more step before the world goes melty and falls out from under him. The former criminal mastermind collapses in a blue heap on the floor. "Bring it back," he mumbles again. "Bring it back. Don't take it away from…"

Roxanne pauses, then squints at him. "Are you singing Queen?"

"Minion," Megamind mutters, shoving himself up on one hand and lifting the other to the back of his massive cranium. "Minion."

"Minion's not here," Roxanne says, as gently as she can considering how upset she is, and she's totally unprepared for Megamind's head to snap up and his eyes to be full of fire.

"I'm aware of that," he snarls. "He hasn't been here. For a year."

Oh. Some of Roxanne's anger ebbs with her confusion. "I see," she murmurs. "So, it's been a year, huh?"

Megamind's glare flinches away from her tight-lipped scrutiny. Unsurprising; he can barely hold her gaze when he's sober. He aims his stare at the carpet, instead.

Roxanne bites her lip, staring down at him. Lord, there was a time when she used to dream about Megamind curled on the floor at her feet like this. But that time was ages ago, back when he first started kidnapping her. She hasn't thought of him that way in years. And she had never imagined it would actually happen.

Or that he would be wearing her clothes when it did. Or that it would hurt so damn much.

"All right, then," she decides. "When did you start drinking today?"

"Seven," Megamind says, sounding sullen.

He drank that much in two hours? What even is his metabolism? "What time did you go to bed?"

"'Bout…ten minutes ago."

So, just before she got home. "Have you eaten anything today?"

"No."

"If I give you this," Roxanne holds up the bottle, since it's mostly empty anyway, "will you drink some water?"

"Okay."

She drops the bottle by his knee. Megamind just looks at it. He's still just looking at it when Roxanne gets back with a tall glass of water.

"Here." She passes the glass down to him and then withdraws, knowing better than to reach out and offer comfort the way she'd like to. It would feel natural enough to her to offer a hug or rub her hand across his shoulders or something at this point, but she's already figured out that there must be a better way when Megamind is involved. If only I could figure out what it is.

Megamind drinks half of what she's given him, his adam's apple bobbing in his long throat, before taking a breath and lowering the glass. "You're mad at me," he observes as he exhales.

"Ohhh, Megamind," Roxanne sighs, one hand on her hips and the other massaging the bridge of her nose, "I'm not mad."

"You are, you're mad at me."

"I'm disappointed. That's all." She pauses, then adds, "Drink up," and she's surprised when he follows her instruction and downs the rest of it. "Why didn't you say anything?" she asks as he finishes. "You could have told me what day it was."

His shrug brings his narrow shoulders almost all the way to his ears. "Don' need you worrying 'bout me." Then, incredibly, he snorts. "Bosons know why, but you'd've worried."

"And you think coming home to a plastered roommate doesn't worry me?" Roxanne asks, incredulous. "You're out of your mega-mind, Megamind." Inwardly, she's thinking, any minute now. Aaany minute now…

Sure enough, he freezes for a second, the color draining from his face. Then he hauls himself to his feet and staggers across the apartment, heading for the bathroom just off her bedroom.

Shaking her head, Roxanne goes back to her kitchen sink and refills his glass. Why did it have to be whiskey? He's going to be hungover as hell tomorrow—and talk about headaches!

The sound of violent retching meets her ears and she sighs, then grabs her phone from her purse and a washcloth from the linen closet before following Megamind into the bathroom. He's on his knees with his face in the toilet, worshiping the porcelain throne, his thin back heaving as another wash of watery alcohol comes up.

Roxanne waits until he lifts his head, then hands him the glass again. "Drink this."

"But I'll be sick," he mumbles, still pale. He's sweating.

"Yeah, and there's a reason for that," Roxanne agrees, reaching past him to flush the toilet. "C'mon, you have to drink water, it's the rules."

He looks up at her, dismayed. "It is?"

"I don't make the rules, Megamind."

He groans but slowly drinks the whole glass, then passes it back and settles onto the floor with his back against the wall, one leg curled in front of him and the other drawn against his chest, resting his cheek on his knee with a sigh.

Roxanne sits down on the edge of the tub and looks at him. "You want to talk about it?" she asks. Megamind doesn't reply right away, so she turns her attention to her phone, instead. Something came up, she texts Metro Man. Not going to work tomorrow. Can we talk on my lunch break Wednesday?

"Won't make a difference," Megamind eventually says, closing his eyes.

Roxanne frowns at him, then calls into the office, dialing her boss's extension to leave him a voicemail. "Hey, Carl, it's Roxanne." She doesn't even need to pretend to sound tired. "I'm really sorry for the short notice, but there's been a family emergency and I need to take a PTO day tomorrow. Call me on my cell if you need me, but otherwise I'll see you Wednesday. Thanks so much for understanding. Bye."

She looks up to find Megamind staring at her, one pupil more dilated than the other, a bewildered expression on his pointed face. "What'd you just do?"

Roxanne's phone pings and she glances down at Wayne's text. Weds sounds good hope everything's OK. "I canceled all my stuff tomorrow, I'm staying home."

Megamind blinks, then tilts his head. "But what…oog. No." He gets back on his knees and stares down into the toilet bowl, salivating profusely. "Why would you stay home?" he slurs. "You're not th' one who's si-sick-k—" He retches again, throws up water and whiskey, sniffs hard, throws up again.

"Because you're going to be super hungover," Roxanne tells him. He groans. "And…I feel like I should stay with you. For this." She twists and turns the tub faucet on cold for a moment, just long enough to soak the washcloth she'd picked up before. Then she wrings it out halfway and passes it to Megamind. "I wish you'd told me today," she adds. "I would've stayed, or at least tried to come home earlier. Drinking alone is no fun."

He wipes his face slowly, then reaches up to flush the toilet. The deep shadows under his eyes are back. "I miss him," he mumbles. "Feels like I should've moved on by now."

Roxanne shakes her head. "You had a really different relationship with Minion than most people do with their friends," she says. "I imagine it's totally normal for you to still be this upset."

"Does it get easier?"

She hesitates. "It'll always hurt," she finally tells him, "but…after a while, you won't mind carrying it around with you so much."

Megamind nods, his eyes slipping closed again as he leans his head back against the wall. "Minion always took care of me when I was sick," he whispers. "I took care of him, too. My whole life. My whole life, he was…always there for me. He…was…he was my family." He opens his eyes, which are astonishingly dry, but his pupils have contracted to little dots in a way Roxanne has never seen before. "I don't have a family anymore. I don't have a family anymore."

Roxanne's heart clenches. "Megamind…"

"Everything's gone," he mumbles, staring at his long hands. He's not wearing his gloves, and his twig-thin fingers are very blue under the bright lights of Roxanne's bathroom. "My, my family, my planet. My star. And…now Minion, too."

Roxanne recoils. "Your…wait, your whole planet? What are you talking about?"

Megamind looks up at her, skinny and bald and blue and very, very much alone in this moment. "It's gone," he says with startling clarity. "Crushed. The Earth will shake in two will break and death all around will be your dowry."

Queen again, Roxanne realizes, somewhat distantly. He must have been listening to one of her albums earlier. "Megamind, are you serious? Be serious for a sec." Something in his voice is making her blood go cold. "What do you mean about your planet?"

Megamind's tired expression doesn't change. "Our planet is disintrigater'd," he says, detached, and his softly drunken mangling of the word is not funny in the slightest. He lifts one hand, twirls it loosely in the air before dropping it back onto the tile next to his hip. "Our star…collapsed. Minion's people're extinct. Mine, too. Minion's gone. And I'm…" he trails off, his eyes glazing over somewhat. Roxanne stares at him, her heart loud in her ears. He can't be saying what she thinks he's saying, but Megamind just stares up at the ceiling and gives a little shrug. "I'm all that's left."

Roxanne swallows, breathes shakily, lifts her hands and rubs them backwards through her hair. Holy God almighty. He is saying what she thinks he's saying.

She'd had no idea.

Megamind's eyebrows twitch. "'n' I'm a mess," he continues, slowly pulling his face into a frown. "Last great hope f'r my whole planet an' lookit me, in my victim's bathroom, in my victim's clothes. Drunk charity case." He plucks at one of the stars on his sweater, sneering. "I'm th' last one ever an' I'm a fuckin' disaster."

"You," Roxanne says in a low voice, "are not a disaster." She swallows. "Megamind, look at me. Look at me right now." She waits until he tips his head back to meet her gaze. "You're not a charity case. And I'm not your victim. That's not who we are." He tilts his head a little, narrowing one eye skeptically, but Roxanne doesn't look away. "That's not who we are," she insists. "I'm your kidnappee, right?"

He nods, and then he winces and blinks a few times, lifting a hand to his forehead. The world is probably still pretty wobbly for him right now, but Roxanne ignores that. "Okay," she says. "Then that makes you my supervillain. Not a disaster, not my charity case. My supervillain. Got it?"

Megamind blinks at her, then casts his eyes down and nods again.

"Good," Roxanne says. "Now, does my supervillain think he'll be able to eat something? Maybe some toast?"

Another nod.

"Good," Roxanne says again. "Come on into the kitchen when you're ready. You should drink some more water, too, and I'll make you some sausage, see if you can choke that down." She leaves him to his thoughts, goes to the kitchen on numb feet, throws bread into the toaster, and then leans heavily on the counter as she finally lets her eyes fill.

The only one left. His planet is dust, his star scattered or compressed… She presses a hand to her lips. She had known he was hurting, but she had never imagined that his pain over Minion might be compounded by something else. And even if she had thought about it, she would never have guessed it might be something so enormous. She can't even fully wrap her head around it. The only one?

Megamind watches her from the door of her room, his unfocused vision cloudy as the room tilts and spins. He hadn't meant to say all that. He hadn't meant to drink so much, either, but after everything that was roiling around in his head today…he just wanted it to stop. He had slept for most of the day, but finally he'd woken up and couldn't go back to sleep, so he pulled two bottles out of the back of Roxanne's liquor cabinet in the hopes they would put him back under.

But the alcohol didn't help as quickly as he was expecting, so he drank more…but then everything felt gross and shaky and so he went to bed. And then Roxanne came home and turned the lights on, and he had felt worse than he realized, and…

Wait, is she crying?

She is, she's crying. Why is she crying?

He watches in confusion as Roxanne wipes her eyes, blows her nose, washes her hands. Gets toast out of the toaster. Opens the freezer and pulls out link breakfast sausages and arranges them on a plate to put in the microwave.

Did she say she would be staying home tomorrow? Was that something that happened? She worked late tonight; maybe she's sad because she's busy at work but he's keeping her home.

No. That's stupid. She already said she's disappointed with him; probably that's what has her upset. Maybe he should have told her this morning. Maybe today would have been better if he could have shared with someone. Maybe then she wouldn't be disappointed.

She doesn't need that, though. She's dealing with enough of his problems already.

Megamind swallows and walks to his usual chair at the kitchen island, only weaving a little bit even though the world is still rocking dangerously around him. Roxanne slides him a plate of toast. "Here," she says, only sounding a little bit stuffy. "Eat. You probably don't feel like it, but it'll help. Take small bites and chew slowly."

"Why are you sad?" Megamind asks, picking up his toast and biting into it.

Roxanne stares at him. He stares back, chewing. Eventually she says, "I'm sad because you're sad."

"Oh." His brow furrows. "That's a dumb reason."

"And I'm sad because I just learned there was a whole world full of people who are dead now," Roxanne continues, her voice shaking. "I just learned that you and Minion were the only two left, and now you're the last one. I just learned that, when you're gone, there won't be any more amazing blue people ever again.

"And I miss Minion, too, Megamind. I miss him. And I miss seeing you laugh. I miss you calling me nosy and…and dancing all over the place. I miss your crazy inventions and I miss the brainbots." And I'm sorry I ever wanted you hurt. She hugs her arms against her chest and sniffs, blinking hard. "I miss Minion calling me 'Miss Ritchi' and telling me stuff that pissed you off. I miss…I miss knowing Minion would always catch me when I passed out from the spray."

Megamind continues to stare at her, but he's stopped chewing.

The microwave beeps. "And I don't miss him like you do, I know, I know," Roxanne says, tears running down her face now. "But I do miss him. And I—I miss the good old days. I wish you'd said something. I wish you'd told me. And, and I'm sorry you're sick." She turns away, fumbling with the microwave, pulling out the now-warm sausages and sniffing again before starting to slide them over to Megamind. "Here. Grease can sometimes help with…huh?"

Megamind has just reached out again, touching her arm. But he's not wearing his gloves this time; he had taken them off to sleep. Roxanne picks up his hand, turns it over, runs her fingers over his bare palm. The lines there are like her own: two across the middle, one running down around the fleshy base of his thumb. It's not so alien, not so different from hers, but Megamind's fingers are very long, each of them at least a full inch longer than Roxanne's. She looks up at him.

Except for his head, every bit of him is long and thin—his limbs, his torso, his neck, his hands. But he's strong the way young trees are strong: unthinkingly, without trying, bending to storms that would break him if he stood against them, standing tall when they pass. And this storm, too, will pass. In time.

In time.

She squeezes his hand, then pushes him the plate of sausages and a fork. "Eat," she whispers, and Megamind nods.

Metro Man stops at the office two days later while Roxanne is eating lunch. He waltzes in like he usually does, no questions asked; he's the hero, after all, but this time he's carrying several rolls of blue paper and has a notebook tucked under one arm. "Hey. Gotta pick your brain."

Roxanne sighs and puts down the newspaper. "Aw, c'mon, now? I was reading the funnies." And the longer she spends at lunch, the later she'll have to work this evening; she'd left her all her notes at home this morning and she's already trying to figure out when she'll have time to swing back by the apartment to get them later this afternoon.

She says nothing about why she stayed home yesterday, and Metro Man doesn't ask.

"This is better than funnies. Well," he amends, "maybe better. Maybe nothing. But here, look at this, look at these." He unrolls the blueprints on the break room table and hands Roxanne the notebook. "What do you make of all this?"

She groans, but she had said Wednesday's lunch break would be an okay time to talk, so she sets the newspaper aside and starts trying to figure out what she's looking at. The blueprints are very clearly for some kind of weapon, and Megamind's neat handwriting is unmistakable.

She leans forward, interested in spite of herself. "This is the thing that hit Minion?"

Metro Man nods. "Near as I can tell, yeah."

"Huh." Roxanne thumbs through the sheets, noting dates—they're different drafts, she realizes, different iterations of the same project. Some have parts crossed out and changed in later drafts, notes on why to scrap this or that, notes on what to add. "You checked out the actual gun?" she asks slowly, and catches Wayne's nod out of the corner of her eye. She doesn't look up, though, because she's just noticed one of the pieces is…unusually fiddly. It's small but there aren't any notes on what it does, which seems strange since Megamind seems pretty clear about labeling everything else. "What's this thing?" she asks, pointing at the little component. "It looks complicated."

Metro Man sends her a pleased smile. "Yeah, I saw that too. Took me a while to find it, but it's in here…" He leafs through the notebook until he finds what he wants, then puts it down to show Roxanne. "Looks like he oiled these pages so they'd be translucent," he says. "See how the layers go?"

She frowns, leaning over. The thing is some kind of engine with a focal beam. The words Incorporate into reset button? are crossed out several times in a margin. Roxanne focuses on the labels at the bottom of the page, which look more like working titles rather than the catchy names Megamind gives most of his finished devices. "Habilitationsschrift Flux Stabilizer," she murmurs, fumbling the pronunciation a bit. It's not much better than "reset button" in terms of telling her what the thing does, but it's a start. "Minkowski-Hinton Reconciliation? Minkowski…hold on." She fishes out her phone, Googles a couple of terms. Googles some more. This can't be right. It can't be.

She sits back in her chair and stares up at Metro Man. "This is…"

He taps a finger gently against the page. "Whatever this thing is, if it works, it throws stuff backwards in time."

"Backwards," Roxanne repeats, blinking. She'd been thinking it was some kind of time machine, but backwards, specifically? "What makes you say that?"

"'Cause of this." Metro Man leans down and flips to a later page in the notebook, but instead of showing a preliminary sketch, this page is covered in eraser-smudges, coffee stains, and more Greek letters than should be legal on one page when they're interspersed with so many numbers.

It's a calculation, it must be, there's nothing else it can be, but it takes up the whole page except for a graph in one corner that looks like it has four axes—the gentle parabolas represent a ninety-degree rotation, according to Megamind's notes, but Roxanne isn't sure why there are four of them—and something that looks almost like a quilt in the margin. This isn't labeled; Roxanne ignores it as a meaningless doodle. "And…this is…?"

"So, he's using a quaternion numbering system, right?" Metro Man says, stretching out in the air at waist height and leaning his elbows on the table. "Traditional understanding says multiplication of two quaternions—they're like vectors, except not really—multiplication isn't commutative. You know how eight times seven and seven times eight give you the same answer? Yeah, not with these."

"Okay…" Roxanne says, tentatively agreeing. She's good with math and she understands the concept, but as far as what the implications of vectors are, it's like Metro Man is speaking Latin.

"Right. Okay, so it looks like what he's doing is, uh…if I've got this right, he's mathematically transposing or…or reconciling, sort of, the Euclidean understanding of quaternions with a more recent, very non-Euclidean interpretation of four-dimensional space." Metro Man gives her a look that's probably supposed to be meaningful, but the meaning is lost on Roxanne. "He's forcing the commutation. With, like…it's like an Umklapp process, but with a quadrupole ion trap. I've never seen anybody else do it this way." He actually looks excited.

Roxanne shakes her head. "What does that mean? In…in English?"

He wets his lips and shakes his head at himself. "Right, right. Sorry. Uh…so, you can't usually use Euclidean or non-Euclidean however you want. You gotta pick one and stay with it," he explains. "But it looks like that wasn't working for the little guy, so he figured out a way to use vector and scalar quaternions to commute with each other to represent a four-dimensional manifold. That's the Minkowski bit. But the thing is," he continues, flipping further through the notebook, passing pages upon pages of numbers and squiggly symbols, "in Minkowski space, the spacetime interval between events doesn't depend on the inertial reference frame they're recorded in. You with me so far?"

"Not a bit," Roxanne says. "But keep going. As long as it makes sense to you."

"Well, here's the part that doesn't make sense to me. You said Megamind was building a matter disruptor, right? And this could totally be harnessed to disrupt matter."

"Which is why it went into the disruptor-gun," Roxanne says. She can follow that much. "But I'm guessing it doesn't work the way he expected?"

Metro Man nods. "It's all I can think of, really. He seems to get frustrated later on and abandon the reconciliation in favor of a more destructive use, which is more his speed, but…the reconciliation works. The engine on its own isn't complete, but the math checks out," he tells her, and Roxanne tilts her head at 'on its own.' The engine wasn't on its own in the gun. Metro Man keeps talking, misinterpreting her questioning glance. "Basically, this…if this works the way I think it does, it doesn't disrupt matter. It transports it. Blinks it along an inertial frame of reference back to somewhere else. Uh, maybe somewhen else would be a better term? Anyway, the ytterbium in the gun is doing some seriously funky stuff."

Roxanne has to slouch forward and rub at her temples, trying to wrap her head around all that. They'll get to the gun later; for now, she hasn't completely given up on maybe understanding some of what Metro Man is saying. "Wait. Just…why does it have to be back in time? Why not forward?"

"Because according to this, there is no forward. The future doesn't exist outside of pure theory. But the past does exist." Metro Man pulls out a chair, sits down, and leans on the table again, which creaks. "Look, I'm not saying Minion's alive, necessarily. But this…this thing, this reset engine, it's in the finished gun. So maybe it didn't kill Minion. Maybe it sent him back in time."

Roxanne sighs. "Look, even if that's true, we'd never be able to pull him out of whatever universe he's now part of," she says, but Metro Man shakes his head.

"No, that's the other part I don't get. I don't think this math allows for alternate universes—well, not much, anyway, it's not…I'm not totally clear on that part. But I think this whole thing centers around one timeline." He looks at her. "If I'm right, then at some point in the past—in our past—there were two Minions in the Lair."

Roxanne stares at him. That doesn't make sense. "Then why isn't there still one Minion now?" she asks. "If there were two in the past, traveling forward, and one got sent back…wait." She frowns. This is starting to hurt. "He should still be here…right?"

Metro Man shrugs. "I assume it's because our Minion went somewhere else. Or somewhen else. I'm hoping it's because we get him back."

"But you said the future doesn't exist," Roxanne says, trying to make sense of four-dimensional physics and thinking it's probably a lost cause. Shaking her head, she stands up and goes over to the coffee maker for a refill. "How can he come back here…to now…if the future we get him back in doesn't exist yet?" Coffee in hand, she turns around and leans against the counter, frowning at Metro Man. "How can he travel into this future if it doesn't exist for him, in the past, yet?"

Metro Man shrugs his massive shoulders. "I don't think I can explain it very well, but…it boils down to us pulling him forward. He's not traveling to the future; we're pulling him here from the past, bringing him here along a single reference frame via a series of cascading Einstein-Rosen bridges." He holds up Megamind's calculation and taps a finger on the quilt doodle. "That's what this is."

"Wait," Roxanne says, straightening up so quickly she nearly spills coffee down her front. "Wait, I know about those. That won't work. An Einstein-Rosen bridge connecting two parts of the same universe is unstable because of…um…" She snaps her fingers a couple times, trying to dredge up the memory of a long-ago elective on the science of science fiction. "Because of torsion. Because there's not enough linkage between the…the thing and the other thing. You could make a bridge, but Minion couldn't get through it because the spin-spin interaction is…um…I don't know. Broken. Or something."

Metro Man snorts. "It's okay, I get what you're saying. And you'd be right, if we were talking about a single bridge, but we'd be using a series of them."

"I…" Roxanne starts to say, but then she shakes her head. "Never mind. The important thing is he's alive."

"Maybe," Metro Man corrects her. "He may be alive. I could be totally wrong about all this—wouldn't Megamind have found this already? He must've been frantic."

Roxanne thinks about it, gazing at the blueprints, the notebook. "No," she says slowly. "No, it looks like he thought the reset button or whatever it is didn't work…I bet you were right about it having a different role in the matter disruptor. Something else must have made it work the way he originally meant it to." She's quiet for a moment. It does seem far-fetched, but Metro Man had said the math checks out even though the reset button wasn't completed. If something in the gun did complete the reset button, or took over whatever functions were missing…

It could work.

"Hmm," Metro Man says, leaning back over the blueprints. The most recent one is on top, and after a long minute, he taps a separate component, a spiky-looking triangle riddled through with wires. "I think this is probably what would've made it work. It's some kind of converter, and if I'm following these plans right, when it gets paired with the Minkowski-Hilton Reconciliation device, one of two things will happen.

"Either the Minkowski thingy pulls energy from outside time to induce a catastrophic shift in the target's state of matter—which is what should have happened—or together they would've preserved the interval of spacetime equipped with the non-positive definite bilinear form appropriate to Minkowski space, stabilizing the resulting series of Einstein-Rosen bridges, and expressing them in three-dimensional space. And that's what I think actually did happen, 'cause of the indefinite integral of the central arctangent. Right?"

Roxanne stares at him in absolute confusion. Those words were English, she's pretty sure, but… "Wayne, seriously? Since when are you into all this…" She waves for a moment, inarticulate and frustrated. "This four-dimensional crap? Time dilation and everything?"

He grins at her and sits back in his chair a little, looking pleased with himself. "I did navigate interstellar space at faster-than-light speeds when I was only eighteen of months old," he points out. He sounds smug, but Roxanne figures he's entitled. "And I'm physically capable of hyper-accelerating myself into an approximate time-stop. I know how that works. I'm not a genius, but I'm not stupid, Roxie."

"You're smarter than me," she mutters.

"No, I'm not. I just have different developmental capabilities—I was born with this stuff in my head, and then I learned the words for it, that's all. It's what I am, it's…part of me. But this…" He looks down at the blueprints, the notebook, Megamind's pile of impossible calculations, and slowly shakes his head. "This," he says, and he taps his fingertips on the notebook a few times for emphasis, his eyes shining, "this is amazing. The math alone is…nothing I've ever seen written down. But on top of that, I don't know how he could see where to even begin to build something to express these calculations in three-dimensional space. It's…it's beautiful stuff, Roxie. It really is."

Then he looks up at her, his brow suddenly furrowing. "So…with all this in mind, what do we do about it?"

Roxanne gazes at him for a minute, thinking of Megamind sitting at home, doing whatever he does while she's gone. Thinks of him staring at nothing, making sandwiches for the two of them in the middle of the night, fixing her sink and her freezer, and his tinkering with the electromagnet, spreading its parts all over her rug.

Thinks of him quietly joining her on the sofa sometimes when she watches television and actually chuckling at some of the humor, thinks of him dozing off with his sharp chin on his knees, thinks of him reading his way through her bookshelves. Thinks of the circled classified ads for rentals from the newspaper she'd found on her counter that morning. Thinks of the light starting to come back into his eyes. Thinks that she might, possibly, be coming to think of him as more than a friend.

Thinks of him drinking himself half to death, missing his friend. Thinks of him having to live the rest of his life without his Minion.

She looks up at Metro Man. "What else can we do?" she says, determined. "We fix it."

Metro Man grins.

Chapter Text

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Her head is still spinning when she has Hal bring her by her apartment on their way back to the office from a bank robbery-slash-hostage situation later that day. Metro Man had agreed with Roxanne that they shouldn't say anything to Megamind about their theory until they're sure, but just because it was her idea to begin with doesn't mean the secret sits well with her. It doesn't sit well with her at all. Minion is alive, or might be, and part of her feels like Megamind should be told immediately.

The rest of her—most of her—isn't so sure. There is the possibility that it's a false hope. Which. Might be worse than giving him no hope at all.

She's still lost in thought when she absently invites Hal inside with her while she retrieves her notes and tablet, but his enthusiastic agreement pulls her into the present somewhat. Okay, maybe that wasn't such a great idea, but Roxanne doesn't want to believe it's an outright bad idea; she wants to go on believing that Hal, while weird, is a harmless sort of weird and not the sort that, given an inch, will take a mile. He's nice enough.

Well, she can't say she's changed her mind about inviting him in without it seeming weird, and besides, this will only take thirty seconds. It'll be fine. She unlocks the door, talking loudly to Hal in the hall and hoping this is still the time of day when Megamind is usually in the shower.

She's right about the shower; the bathroom fan is rattling away. But it turns out she's dead wrong about the Hal end of things.

Apparently, Hal is exactly the sort of weird that conflates being invited inside with being invited to do things like touch, and he doesn't appear to understand that the two aren't in any way related, and somehow this all winds up with Roxanne on one side of the kitchen island and Hal on the other, circling each other, Hal wearing his honest face open and confused as he goes, "Roxie, c'mon, it's just me, I mean, you said I could come in…"

And Roxanne, who is three hundred percent not okay with feeling anyone's hands on her hips when she's just popped inside to grab the folder she left on the coffee table, is protesting, "I said you could come in for a second while I picked up my tablet and my paperwork!" and not really understanding why she's on the defensive—she should be shouting Hal out of her apartment, shouldn't she? But she has to work with him, he's her cameraman, and she does know him, but also no with a side of very much not.

This is when Megamind opens the door to her bedroom and steps out. There's no way he could have anticipated she'd be home; the fan in Roxanne's bathroom is loud and she knows immediately that he hasn't heard any of what's just happened. The big tipoff isn't actually his "I'm frozen!" face; it's the fact that he's wearing his fluffy purple towel around his waist and absolutely nothing else.

His gaze flicks to Hal, who still has his hands out in supplication even as he stares at Megamind in stunned silence, and then to Roxanne, who has both her hands flat on the counter, poised to dodge.

He looks back at Hal again, and his eyebrows flatten low over narrowing eyes.

"The hell are you doing here?" demands Hal, who has recovered his powers of speech before Roxanne. "What the…why are you…what the heck, Roxie?" He rounds back to Roxanne, his face an absurd image of outrage. "Why is he naked?"

"Probably because he's just gotten out of the shower," Roxanne shoots back, then grimaces at Megamind. "Sorry. I left my work stuff here."

He nods without looking at her. He's still watching Hal. And his gaze holds steady as he leans left and grabs one of the decorative pussy-willow wands from its scarlet vase by Roxanne's bedroom door.

He levels the narrow branch at Hal. It's about a yard long and very whippy-looking. "Out," he says, turning slightly sideways, keeping his towel in place with his other hand.

Hal turns more fully around, already snorting a laugh, incredulous. "Seriously? You're ordering me out? I was invited here. What's your excuse?"

"I live here," Megamind says in the same empty monotone. "Get out. Now."

Hal's eyes bug almost all the way out of his head. "You live here?" he repeats, spinning around once again to confront Roxanne with a disbelieving stare. "Is he serious? Roxie, you've lost your mind! This is not okay!"

Roxanne can't keep her lip from curling. She doesn't want to be mean, but Hal has no right to think that he's allowed to have any say in her life. It's none of his damn business what she does.

She leans forward, opening her mouth to speak, but Megamind says, "Out," again, and she hesitates, glances at him. He's still watching Hal, his eyes flat and his back straight, dripping water onto the hardwood floor and still holding the branch out in front of him like a sword. What's he doing? Roxanne wonders vaguely, but then she finds out, because Megamind suddenly says, "That was three," and lunges like a fencer.

He takes two leaping steps across the floor and slashes with the stick, snapping the thin wooden branch to connect with Hal's neck just above the collar of his shirt. The sharp whap makes even Roxanne wince, and Hal yells and stumbles away, clapping a hand to his neck in defense. "Leave," Megamind snarls, sweeping his improvised switch back and darting forward to smack Hal in almost the same place as before, which means this time he hits Hal's bare knuckles. "Now."

"OW, okay, okay! Don't!" Hal runs for the door, then pauses. "Uh, Roxie, are you…augh okay I'm going, I'm going!" He flees, slamming the door behind him, when Megamind dances forward again.

Megamind lowers his arm and straightens, glaring after him, then turns and looks at Roxanne.

"I could have handled him," she says quietly. "You didn't have to do that."

"Did he touch you?" Megamind asks. "You look like he did. You're all blurry around the edges."

Roxanne closes her eyes. Leans on the counter. "I'm fine."

Megamind points at the door with the pussywillow switch. "That man," he says, "looks at you like you're a thing."

"He doesn't mean anything by it," she starts, but then she stops, because Megamind's expressive face has just gone from distressed to livid.

"He meant a lot of things, it sounded like! Invited," he sneers, stalking back to the vase and replacing the switch with sharp, angry movements. Ire makes his words come easier, if not easily. "He doesn't think he means anything, either. You told me about—he seemed—bumbling and—harmless and stupid." Glaring, he shuffles the decorative branches around a little. "But he isn't. Are you okay?"

Roxanne has just slumped over the counter a little bit. Now that the surprise is wearing off, now that the shock is fading, she's aware of just how loud her heart is in her ears. Yes, it's likely nothing would have happened in the end, but she still won't trust Hal behind her now and she's still justifiably freaked out. "I will be," she says. "I…"

Megamind must have run around the island; he's suddenly beside her, his long hands fluttering at her. He's hesitant to touch, as always, but Roxanne turns without thinking and puts both arms around his neck, squeezes her face into his bony shoulder. She feels him turn to stone against her, and for just a second she thinks, Oops, mistake—but then he closes his arms, one around her lower back and his other fist pressing against her shoulder, squeezing her in, and when he leans his head sideways against hers, she thinks it might be okay.

Sort of nice, even. Her family doesn't live in town; it's been a while since she's had a hug from anyone close to her size. Wayne means well, but he's enormous and doesn't dare squeeze; it's not the same.

But a moment later she remembers that Megamind is all but naked—and there's no way he'd be okay with contact as close as this—crap, crap! She shoves herself away and spins around as soon as the thought occurs to her. "Sorry!" she exclaims, twisting both hands into her hair. "I'm so sorry!"

There's a pause, and then, "I'll…I'll be right back," Megamind says, sounding uncertain, and Roxanne waits to turn around until she hears her bedroom door close. On some level, she's aware of how strange it is that almost-naked Megamind in a full-body hug felt safer than fully-clothed Hal on the other side of the kitchen island.

She groans and slides into one of the chairs at the island, pillows her forehead on her arms on the counter. She doesn't have time for this; she needs to get out there and go back to work…she needs to apologize for grabbing Megamind…ugh.

The floor shifts and creaks as he comes back to hover somewhere off to her left. "Are…are you okay?" he asks again, after a long moment.

Roxanne sighs. Shrugs. "Yeah," she says. "I just really don't want to go back downstairs. Hal's probably still waiting with the van…" She sits up and runs her fingers through her bangs, smoothing them back into place, then glances over at her roommate. He's wearing jeans now, plus a button-up shirt from his limited wardrobe and his gloves, but his feet are bare. "It's not like he's going to do anything, but…this is going to be a really awkward conversation."

Megamind recoils. "You'll keep working with him?"

Roxanne shrugs again. "Hal's good at what he does. He's one of the best; everybody knows it. I was…lucky, really, to get him. Thanks, though," she adds. "For helping. It meant a lot to me, you stepping in. I was…getting there, but…"

He blinks at her. "You would have done the same, I think."

"You didn't have to, though." She stands and goes over to gather up her notes from where she'd dropped them earlier. They're scattered on the floor between her orange chair and her sofa and they're all out of order, damn. She has to take a few seconds to make sure she has all of them. "Sorry I grabbed you," she says over her shoulder, unable to look at him. "You can stop me when I try to do that, you know."

Kneeling to reach under the sofa for a couple pages that had skated further away from the rest when she'd dropped them, Roxanne shakes her head at herself. It's not Megamind's job to stop her from doing something she knows she shouldn't. I just need to be better about it, she decides as she rises to a crouch, shuffling her notes and tapping their edges on her thigh to straighten the pages—I've also got to stop using loose-leaf.

Megamind is still standing in the kitchen, watching her and feeling vaguely lost. Yes, her touch unsettles him, but she seems to think it's because he doesn't like it, and that's not the case at all. In the beginning, it was because he simply isn't used to gentleness or physical offers of sympathy; now, it's more because he's surprised she's willing to touch him, and he has no idea what to think about how instinctive it seems sometimes.

But Roxanne acts almost like she's hurt him every time she forgets herself. And. He doesn't want to give her the wrong impression.

But Megamind doesn't reach out, he doesn't, he doesn't; it's not for him to do. He's been down that road and driven back enough times. He doesn't.

One of the definitions of insanity: trying the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome. Well, that's fine; Megamind has never claimed sanity, but does it still count if he doesn't expect a different outcome and tries anyway? What is that called?

He moves to stand beside and behind the crouching reporter, who doesn't seem to hear him. Okay. A searching glance around the room reveals no reason to feel as watched as he does, so—he reaches down to rest the tips of his fingers on Roxanne's shoulder, feather-light. She jumps and twists away, looking up at him with startled blue eyes, but—yes, she looks surprised rather than repulsed or offended, which is…hopeful? Not a bad sign, certainly? Surprise is okay. Unsurprising. Megamind may be standing stone-still with his jaw tight and his eyes wide, but he still has the presence of mind to suppose surprise is understandable. He grits his teeth and flips his palm over, offering his hand.

Another moment passes, and then Roxanne takes it.

Megamind pulls her upright and forces himself not to let go as quickly as he thinks he should. Roxanne is holding her notes to her chest with her free hand and staring at him, searching his face, probably waiting for him to speak, but Megamind is still trying to process what he just did; he doesn't have words—

She can touch him. If she wants to. He doesn't know what to do with it, but that's fine, it really, it's fine. Nice. It's nice.

He drops her hand, swallows hard, steels himself, then reaches forward and gingerly puts his arms around her shoulders before he can chicken out.

It's Roxanne's turn to go stiff with astonishment, staring wide-eyed at the wall behind him. Megamind is hugging her? Not because she'd pushed him and not because he's reacting to her impulse, but of his own accord?

Fine by her.

She starts to lift her hands to his back, but he releases her and steps away. "Good luck with Hal," he says, and she thinks—before he turns quickly around—he might be blushing. The tips of his ears seem…pinker than usual?

There's a long pause, and then she says a confused, overly-chipper "Thanks," and clears her throat. "I…I'll see you tonight."

Megamind only turns back as she's walking out the door, but he stares after her for a long time, flexing his fingers, trying to identify the heat in his chest and failing.

Things with Hal are indeed spectacularly awkward, but the strangest part is that he seems to think he should be upset with her for not telling him about Megamind.

Whatever.

He does agree to keep the information about the villain's whereabouts to himself, though that's probably because the first thing out of Roxanne's mouth when she steps into the van is, "If you tell anyone about Megamind staying with me, I will deny everything and no one will believe you, and I will not work with you anymore."

"He hit me!" Hal tells her, indignant, as if Roxanne hadn't been painfully present for the whole experience. "He hit me with a stick!"

"Yeah, and you should be grateful," she snaps, slinging her briefcase to the floor and buckling her seat belt. "I was going to mace you."

Hal scoffs. "Aw, no you weren't. C'mon, Roxie, lighten up."

"You grabbed me around the waist and then followed me when I pushed you away," Roxanne says flatly. "Yeah, Hal. That's a recipe for getting your ass maced. Just FYI."

"Jeez, you don't have to be so rude."

"I thought you were going to assault me," she snarls. Stopped at a red light at the end of the block, Hal stares at her, slack-jawed. "No?" Roxanne says sarcastically. "After all your constant come-ons, your white-knighting, your insistence that you pay for my lunches when we're working over breaks? But, y'know, I thought I'd give you the benefit of the doubt. I thought, no, Roxanne, Hal's not like that, Hal's just awkward and doesn't know he comes off as a fucking creep."

"Well, you could've said something," Hal mutters, after a long pause. "I mean, how was I s'posed to know you didn't want heartfelt compliments or somebody looking out for you?"

"Yes, I should have told you." Not that she hadn't tried, but she should probably have said it in plain English, flat out. "But I also shouldn't have needed to."

Hal brightens. "It's no problem," he tells her. "Tell you what, lemme take you to dinner, make it up to you."

Roxanne groans and clunks her head against the window of the van. It's like I'm talking to a monkey. "I'm not going to dinner with you."

"So…movie, then?"

"I am not going to date you." A really, really, big, stupid monkey named Hal.

"No no, not a date! Psh, dates. Who wants those?" He laughs nervously. "Just…friends! You know, like pals!"

"No, Hal."

"Look, you're obviously upset. You know what's great for not being upset? Ice cream."

"No, Hal."

That evening finds Megamind blinking down at the couch, nonplussed. He can't sit in his usual spot; Roxanne is sprawled face-down across the whole long end of the sofa, holding one of the throw pillows over her head.

It's been another long day, clearly. Megamind can't say he's surprised.

Maybe she doesn't know he's there? He coughs. "Ahem."

Roxanne mumbles something but doesn't move.

Okay… He frowns. Looks like it's up to him to fix this. Well, that shouldn't be too hard, but somehow, he feels like MarioKart won't be the best cure for a bad case of Obtuse Cameraman-itis. Still, what about a game that isn't a video game? Games always make him feel better, or they used to. Maybe they'll work for Roxanne, too.

He goes to the walk-in storage closet. Estás en tu casa, Roxanne had said, and Megamind has had more than enough time to explore the place and familiarize himself with all the various supplies, so it doesn't take him long to find what he wants. He retrieves a certain rattly box from its shelf and carries it back over to the couch, where he settles himself cross-legged on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table to get set up. Roxanne jumps a little when he starts clattering, but still doesn't raise her head.

Megamind waits for a minute after he finishes his preparations, then has another idea. He stands and walks away again, this time aiming for the kitchen and Roxanne's liquor cabinet again—this time with a far more innocuous plan in mind than the last time he'd been in there. So far, he hasn't seen Roxanne drink much more than the occasional hard cider, but she has a liquor cabinet; presumably she must enjoy what's in it sometimes.

This, he thinks, might be one of those sometimeses. He doesn't know what Roxanne does to make herself feel better. He knows how she relaxes, but…this calls for something a little more drastic than video games and old Westerns.

Roxanne doesn't sit up, since lying face-down on the couch is proving more relaxing than she'd thought it would be, but she does have to wonder what Megamind is doing with all the clinking and rustling in the kitchen. It takes a couple minutes before he returns, his soft footsteps barely audible when he hits the rug.

There are two more clinks nearby, the pronounced rustle of someone sitting down, and then Megamind clears his throat again. This time, Roxanne sighs and sits up on her elbows. Then she blinks.

And then she starts laughing. She can't help it. Megamind is sitting with his back straight and his head up on the other side of her low coffee table, gazing at her expectantly from behind a Jenga tower and two cocktail glasses full of something cloudy and yellowish. He tilts his head, looking a bit put out at her amusement, but there's something that might be a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Don't laugh at me," he says reproachfully. "I'm only trying to help."

"I'm not, I'm not laughing at you," she says, even though she sort of is. Megamind squints at her but lets it slide. Her laughter doesn't sound malicious, and the point of this mad venture was to raise her spirits.

Whatever works, he supposes, and only realizes that he's rolled his eyes when she says, "Really! I'm not. At least, I don't mean to. But…" She sits up fully and leans forward, eyes sparkling, still half-laughing as she says, "this is very sweet. And unexpected. And thank you. Jenga? Really?"

"I like Yenga," he says, and doesn't add anything about feeling like he owes her for staying home with him yesterday. "It's physics. I'm good at Y…Jenga?" Roxanne had used a hard 'j'; that must be how it's pronounced. Oh, well. He recovers quickly. "You, Miss Ritchi," he says, trying for the old inflection she'd told him she missed and finding it with an effort, "are going down."

"Oh ho! Je te défie en duel," Roxanne says, and motions taking off a glove and swatting him with it. To her surprise, Megamind goes along with the little pantomime and jerks his face to the side as though she's slapped him, but his accompanying scandalized expression is ruined somewhat by the way his smirk is spreading into almost a grin.

"Pistolets ou des épées?" he returns.

"Ni pistolets ni épées, mais Jenga, of course, I thought we established that."

Megamind's full smile flashes white for a moment. "You speak French?"

"Not very well," Roxanne demurs, grinning back. "I remember a couple fun phrases, but the last time I used it to any extent was back in…oh, freshman year of college? Ages ago. I couldn't have remembered 'sword' if you hadn't said it first. And I bet my accent is atrocious." She lifts the glass he's set on her side of the table. "What's this?" she asks, peering at its contents. He'd even put sugar on the rim. Fancy!

"I don't know what it's called." Megamind shrugs, forces himself to speak without thinking. It's getting easier. "I had one at a bar once and liked it. Unfortunately, I had to leave before I got the name."

She raises her eyebrows. "You've gone to bars?"

He shrugs again. "There are bars in Metrocity that don't mind me."

"How much do you usually drink?"

Megamind flushes. "I…not much. Not often. Monday was…" He swallows, drags himself back to squared shoulders and a more confident tone. "Monday was unusual, I assure you."

Curious and somewhat reassured, Roxanne sips at her drink. Vodka, triple sec… "It's a lemon drop!" she exclaims, surprised, then chuckles when Megamind wrinkles his nose.

"Ah?" he says. "I thought it would be called something more masculine than that. A 'hammer' or something."

"You're thinking of a screwdriver. This is a lemon drop. And it's a darned good one, Megamind, I'm impressed."

He blinks at that and his color deepens, but all he says is, "Not as impressed as you'll be with my prowizz at Jenga! Come on, enough stalling."

"Enough stalling," Roxanne agrees, setting her glass back down and scooting forward to concentrate on the game at hand.

They play, poking out pieces and wiggling out blocks and putting the pieces they take out back on top of the tower to mix things up, until the tower is wobbling and dangerously top-heavy and they're both grinning. Roxanne's crowning achievement is making Megamind sneeze into his drink—she stares critically at the tower for a moment, notes how it's leaning, notes the one piece already missing from the bottom-most layer…and carefully, carefully eases another block out from the bottom layer so only one block is left. And it isn't the middle block.

"What the cheese balls," Megamind says, coughing a little on his lemon drop. "I was going to do that!"

Roxanne raises her glass to him. "Great minds think alike! And now it's your move." She sounds very smug, singsonging, "Good luuuck!"

Megamind huffs and stretches his hands away from his body. "Fine. The forces of ee-vil don't give up without a fight."

It takes him nearly three whole minutes and Roxanne is griping about Should I just go to sleep, do you think you'll have completed this move by sunup before he finishes his turn, but he eventually tweaks a block out and puts it on top without toppling the tower.

Roxanne scowls at him. "Well, look at Mr. Delicate Hands over here."

"It's a gift," Megamind says with a smirk, wiggling his fingers at her. "Are you ready to lose, Miss Ritchi?"

"Ha! In your dreams."

She manages to ease one of the middle pieces in the upper layers out of position, and she's in the process of gently replacing it on top of the tower when Megamind says, "Nice tongue." It's a bizarre enough comment that she pauses and looks up, confused. Then she realizes she's got her tongue clamped between her teeth, which happens sometimes when she's concentrating, and it's poking out and Megamind is smirking at her, and she pulls her tongue back in her mouth with a mortified slup noise that makes Megamind actually start laughing for the first time in months.

It's not clear whether he bumped the table or if Roxanne was embarrassed enough to slip. Either way, the tower comes scattering down with a godawful clatter and they both make frantic scrambles to keep their drinks from being knocked over by bouncing wooden blocks.

Megamind can't stop laughing. He brushes blocks aside and sets his drink back down, then puts his head on the table, shoulders shaking as he tries to pull himself back under control.

For a moment, he thinks he has it, and he starts to sit up. Guilt hits him suddenly and he chokes and bows back down again, disgusted with himself.

Today felt normal. Today felt just fine. The anniversary of Minion's death was two days ago, and he's lying to Roxanne in the worst possible way, and he feels fine and he can't. Do. This.

Roxanne reaches out and puts her hand on his head, and the gesture is just hesitant and gentle enough to make Megamind lose all hope of control—he feels his helpless laughter shift to something else, feels the tears well in his eyes. No. No. This was supposed to be fun. This was supposed to be a good night!

Then Roxanne is kneeling next to him on the floor, slowly pulling him against her, and Megamind can't fight it anymore—it's too late, anyway—he turns toward her and wraps his arms around her as tightly as he can, rests his massive forehead in the curve of her neck, and cries into the space between them.

"Easy," Roxanne says quietly, "you're okay."

He cries for Minion, his parents, everything he's lost, but he also cries for Roxanne and everything he's gained but never wanted, never asked for, everything he's taken without meaning to—

He cries for the new bond shivering in the back of his mind. He hadn't wanted it; he still doesn't. What he wants is Minion, Minion or nothing at all, and he really had tried to learn to manage on his own. He'd tried lists and work and balance, he'd tried his absolute best to keep this from happening, but it's not something he can control—it's not something he was even fully aware of in the beginning—not something he could have even warned Roxanne about. By the time he'd realized what was happening, it was too late.

So this is the last chance he'll have to hold her like this. He's always known it was too good to last, and sure enough, here it is. He can't go on pretending nothing's wrong between them; he has to tell her the truth. He broke into her mind and made himself part of her. Without even asking. There's no coming back from that, he knows. That's sick. That's vile. She took him in and showed him the kind of welcome and friendship he always thought was a myth for people like him; she showed him grace, and he has repaid her kindness by binding himself to her.

And he doesn't have Minion to catch him when he falls.

"Megamind," Roxanne whispers, moving gentle hands up and down his back as he bites down on hiccupping sobs, "shhhh. I know. It's okay, it's okay, we'll…we'll get there." She swallows hard, wanting to tell him…but without knowing for sure, she doesn't dare. She can't give him something like that if it's not going to be true. Megamind gasps something and she rubs a circle on the back of his skull, amazed he's letting her do all this, amazed that he actually seems to be clinging to her. "What? I didn't…"

"I said I'm sorry," he chokes out.

"Hey, no, you don't have to—"

Megamind shakes his head wildly and tries to pull back, stammering something about how she doesn't understand, she doesn't know what he did, she doesn't realize what he is—he's sorry, he didn't know, he didn't know—

But.

The thing is.

He's got it wrong.

And for a few moments, Roxanne can only stare at him, horrified that he seems to be pleading with her to believe him. She'd had no idea he was this upset about what was happening, or she would have said something sooner.

"Megamind," she says, interrupting his frenzied apologies. "No. Megamind, stop." She reaches out again, shaking her head, and takes his wet face in both hands. "Stop."

His eyes are so wide she can see the whites all around his irises. "But…I…"

"No. I think I do know. And if I'd known you were this freaked out about it…jeez, Megamind, I figured you would just tell me when you were ready, I didn't know you were so upset!" she exclaims.

Megamind blinks, then shakes his head wildly, making Roxanne move her hands away. "No, you can't, it's…I…we…"

He can barely get the words out. "You said Minion was in your head, right?" Roxanne asks desperately, hoping that if she just says it, maybe he'll calm down. "He helped you?"

He doesn't calm down, but he does stop dead in his tracks and stare at her, barely breathing. Well, it's a step. Encouraged, she continues, "Here's what I think. When you two were linked, it was like…you guys were like a team. Minion was the steady one. Minion was steady and…and you were clever. Right?" She doesn't expect an answer, and she doesn't get one other than Megamind's eyes going absolutely saucer-huge. She swallows and slowly reaches for him again. "Megamind, you think so fast. And I think…I think on your own, you get tangled up in it, because you…you're steady here, but not up here." She pokes him gently in the chest, then the forehead. Megamind stares at her, wide-eyed and silent, as she keeps going.

"And, and maybe it wasn't like that for your whole species, I don't know," she says, her voice wobbling only a little, "but I think you're made to…to link up, sort of, to a steady mind to balance out your clever one, because otherwise you get lost in your head. Like you were when I found you." She trails off and swallows. "So, that's what happened, isn't it? I'm in your head, now. I'm the steady one, now, because Minion is…because Minion isn't, anymore," and she squeezes her eyes closed for a moment, struggling.

(Megamind isn't sure whether his heart is still beating or not. Everything's stopped. She knows? How…what happens now? Where is she going with this? What's going on?)

Roxanne opens her eyes, steeling herself. "And I'm not Minion," she says, refusing to let herself cry because if she starts now, she'll never stop, "I'm not and I can't be and I won't try. I can't be Minion for you." She sucks in a breath, and finishes, "But I can be your steady brain if you need one. I can be that until…until we figure out what to do. At least. Okay?" She pauses, hoping for a response now, but Megamind is pale and shaking, staring at her like she's just pulled him away from some kind of cliff. "Okay?" Roxanne says again, searching his eyes for some kind of confirmation that he's even heard what she said. "Is—is that—right? Did I get that right?" She reaches out to him again.

"I'm sorry," Megamind gasps, startling into a response and gripping her arms as soon as her hands land on his shoulders, "I…I didn't mean…please let me stay, please don't make me leave, please."

Her heart breaks a little. "I know you didn't mean to; don't apologize." She moves a hand up and rubs over the side of his enormous head to try and steady him, feels the swell of his skull under her palm, then pulls him back into a hug. His hands slide around to her back again. "This…this wasn't a choice. I get it." If Megamind is finally letting her touch him, she's not going to stop anytime soon. To her surprise, he drags his fingers into the back of her shirt and hooks his chin over her shoulder.

"How?" he hisses, shivering as the terrified adrenaline slowly bleeds out of his system. "How did you know?"

"The things you were finding to do around the apartment were all things I wanted, even the stuff that wasn't on the list." It's all a bunch of coincidences and reading into things, but…it all feels true enough, in a way she can't fully explain. "And when we went for groceries last week, you said if there was ever a next time, I wouldn't be there. Megamind, the only thing that would ever keep me away if this happened to you again is if I was the 'next time.'" She rubs her hands down his back and up again. "Try to calm down for me? It's okay, really. We'll get through this. I'm okay. We're okay."

He stares over her shoulder, then squeezes his eyes closed against his tears. She is the most amazing person he's ever known. He had been so sure she would kick him out as soon as he told her what was going on. But not only did she figure it out on her own, she's okay with it? "You, you should be so angry," he whispers. "You should be furious, you should…I can stay?" His hands tighten on her back. "I can stay?"

The hell with backrubs; she wraps her arms around him and squeezes. "You can stay," she assures him. "I want you to stay, I'm not making you leave."

He pulls back so he can see her face. "And this," he says, "the…the touching, this, this is okay?"

She looks totally baffled. "Yeah, this is fine, why wouldn't it be fine?"

He shrugs, but it's too sharp to be truly nonchalant. "N-nobody else ever wanted to," he says, still wide-eyed, still breathing too hard. Incredibly, she smiles.

"Megamind, for pity's sake," she says. "You haven't noticed? I'm a really touchy-feely person. If I'm comfortable with someone and they're comfortable with me, I don't see why I shouldn't cuddle up to them sometimes."

"You've never cuddled at me before," he begins, but Roxanne laughs and tips her head against his and his heart flips over.

"Because every time I've touched you—until today, anyway—you flinched. I thought you didn't like touch. But then when you hugged me this afternoon, I thought…well, I guess I was wrong." Her mouth twists wryly and it's her turn to pull back and look at him. "But if you're okay with it, then I fully intend to be physically affectionate with you. And you can do the same, if you want to."

"You…you realize I may never stop," he warns with a damp little smile, and Roxanne's eyes crinkle in answering amusement.

"Believe it or not, that's a risk I'm willing to take," she says. "We're having a brain thing, we ought to be able to at least rub elbows once in a while." Then, suddenly, she stands, sliding her hands down his arms as she does so and gripping his fingers so she can pull him to his feet. "Up," she tells him. "The floor is a stupid place to do this, let's move it to the couch."

On the couch, Megamind huddles away from her, but that's understandable—he's embarrassed about his outburst, he's accustomed to physical isolation, it'll take time for him to learn to be comfortable with touch. "You…really don't care that it's me?" he asks. "Doing this to you? On top of everything else I…?"

"Don't get me wrong, 'everything else' was pretty messed up," Roxanne tells him, and he pales and his shoulders go stiff. Still expecting me to throw him out, she realizes. Still expecting me to come to my senses. What am I going to do with you? "But you were never cruel," she continues, keeping her tone light, "and besides, this is now. You're a different person now than you were even just a year and a half ago. Loss changes everyone, Megamind—you most of all, I think, because of how you're made.

"And Metro Man told me some stuff while we were looking for you," she adds, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Stuff I had no idea about. I was thinking of you in…in a different light even before I found you out back of that cafe."

"What 'stuff?'" Megamind asks, suspicious in spite of the fact that he's still barely two steps from freaking again. "What did he tell you?"

"Enough for me to know for sure that you were never the villain everyone thought you were. So that," she continues, before Megamind can respond to his reputation going up in smoke, "on top of you pretty much having to reinvent how you think, on top of me getting to know you a little…you're not the guy you were back when you were kidnapping me." She shrugs. "How can I judge you as if you were?"

She makes a good point. Megamind sucks his lip into his mouth and bites down on a shuddery breath, hoping this isn't just some trick or a dream or something and she really means everything she's saying; hoping she's not just telling him what she thinks he wants to hear. She sounds earnest enough. He'll just have to try to take her at her word, but…her continued acceptance of all his weirdnesses is so strange.

He swallows hard and looks over at her, raising his free hand to rub the back of his head before he finally nods. "All right," he says in a low voice. "Th-thank you. Still, I…I wish you didn't have to deal with all my…inhumanity."

Roxanne's eyebrows pull together. He looks so uncomfortable, sitting like that with his knees to his chest and his hand to his head. All she wants to do is give him some kind of reassurance, but she doesn't know how. "Is there more to the inhumanity than just the brain thing?" she asks. "Not because it's a problem, I'm just curious." And maybe you'll feel less upset about it if I know the rest.

Megamind's lips twist. "Oh, there's more," he says. "A lot more. Did you know I have gills?"

"What?" She goggles at him. "Where?" She's never seen them, and he'd been almost naked earlier today. Shouldn't they be somewhere on his neck? Maybe behind his ears? She cranes her head from side to side, trying to see if there's some kind of slit that she missed before. "I thought you were a mammal!"

"I probably am, as far as it matters," he says. "From what I understand, my aquatic traits were added to my species' genome less than seven generations before I was born. We didn't evolve them."

Roxanne shakes her head, amazed. "More than the gills? Can I see?"

He studies her face for a moment, looking less than enthused, but then his expression flattens out and he shrugs. "Sure. Watch." He pulls his arm away and draws back, scooting across the cushions and turning to face her. Then he points at one of his eyes and blinks translucent membranes sideways across his corneas. Roxanne jumps.

Then, incredibly, she beams and leans forward. "Oh wow," she exclaims, peering at him, excited. "That's so cool!"

Startled, Megamind blinks them again. That…wasn't the reaction he'd expected. Huh. "M-my feet are webbed, too," he tells her, and she looks, if possible, even more skeptically delighted than before.

"No way," Roxanne declares, reaching for her mostly-finished lemon drop and shifting to curl one leg comfortably under her on the sofa. "I'm looking at your feet right now, your toes look totally normal to me."

Megamind pinches the web space between his first and second toes, drawing it out. "They mostly stay folded back, but swimming creates enough drag to extend them."

"Huh. And…your gills?" she asks, ever curious. "Are they on your neck?"

"My neck doesn't have the space to give me enough oxygen." He thinks for a moment, then allows, "Maybe if they were external, I could have them on my neck."

Roxanne has to grin a bit at the mental image of Megamind with a big, fluffy frill of gill tissue flaring behind his ears. He'd probably find a way to dye it black, she thinks, and almost laughs. "Then where are they?"

Megamind hesitates, then twists sideways and lifts the hem of his shirt nearly all the way up to his armpit. "They vent on my sides, between my ribs."

Roxanne returns her glass to the coffee table and leans in to investigate. Sure enough, there's a single thin line between each of the five widest visible ribs in Megamind's chest. "Huh," she says, touching one of the four lines with a gentle fingertip. "It doesn't look like a gill."

Megamind hisses a breath between his teeth at her touch but keeps his voice steady. "They're sealed now. Sort of thinly healed over. I don't like using them; breaking the seal hurts and I don't usually spend enough time submerged to warrant it." He does his best to sound blasé, like he doesn't care, like he isn't worried this will scare her off—like he isn't half-hoping that it does, because if this doesn't scare her off, then maybe he really is safe. And safety scares him like almost nothing else. "Th-they take a while to heal again, too, and they're prone to infection out of the water."

Roxanne glances up at him. "How often do you use them?" she asks. "It seems a shame to let this go to waste."

"Usually not more than once a year." Megamind's voice has gone abruptly cold. "On our birthday." Roxanne's expression takes on a sympathetic cast and she strokes absently back and forth along one of the sealed gills as she opens her mouth to speak.

Megamind gasps and shudders away, though, and Roxanne jerks her hand back. "Bad touch?"

"No," Megamind says, dropping his shirt and rubbing his side in an attempt to banish the tingles. "No, they're just…um…" Crap. He's blushing all the way down his neck, he can feel it. Gills are delicate structures and they contain a lot of nerves to discourage and report any injuries. "Sensitive. That's all."

"Oops." Roxanne covers her mouth with a hand, blushing now, herself. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

Even gills isn't enough to faze her, and Megamind sits stiffly, trying to process this. He's an alien. An alien. He'd expected the physical proof of how alien he is to put Roxanne off, but…

She doesn't seem to care. She might even sort of like it; she looks interested. Impressed, even.

And she cried when he told her about the black hole, he remembers abruptly. She cried for a planet that wasn't even hers.

"Can I touch you?" Roxanne asks, and Megamind jumps.

"Wh-what?"

"I want to lean on you, is that okay?"

Stunned, Megamind nods, and Roxanne gives him a pleased grin and wiggles in under his arm, then puts her head on his shoulder.

"Thanks for tonight," she says. "I needed the Jenga. That was so much fun. And I can't believe you know how to make lemon drops!"

"You're welcome. I'm…sorry for ruining it," he says quietly.

"Oh, stop." Roxanne nudges him with an elbow. "You didn't ruin anything."

"I don't…I was so sure you'd…you would want me to get as far away from you as possible," Megamind says. "And now you, you're sitting like this. I don't. Understand."

Roxanne yawns and turns on the television. It's a nature special, something about crocodiles. Cool. "It's not like you're hearing my thoughts," she points out. "I mean, as long as you're not actually a telepath, we're good in my book." He's quiet. "Why does this bother you so much?"

"I didn't even ask. And if…if something happens. To me." Megamind's arm around her tightens just a tiny bit. "What happens to you?"

"You have to remember, this kind of bond isn't necessary for me," Roxanne reminds him. "I hardly feel it. I'm not sure I even do feel it, at all! If you die, I'll probably be okay brain-wise." Then she nudges him again. "Don't die, though, okay?" she adds.

"I'll do my best."

"Screw your best, just don't do it." Roxanne scowls. "I'd be really upset if you died. Really upset. So don't do it."

"Okay," Megamind says after a long moment. "Okay, then. I won't."

A minute later, Roxanne stirs. "You're doing that thing again," she accuses gently. "Aren't you? Worrying about how you owe me, or something."

"I do owe you." Megamind's voice is flat. "It's not…it's not a 'thing' I'm doing; it's just a fact, Roxanne. I owe you a lot. Maybe even my life, I don't know. Absolutely my happiness."

"So tell me a secret," Roxanne says. "Okay? That's my price. Something you've never told anyone. Then we're square, after this, okay?"

Megamind glances down at her, lips finally tweaking to the side in mild amusement. "That's all? One secret?"

Roxanne shrugs. "Fine, two secrets. Is that better? Then you can stop worrying?"

Megamind laughs quietly, unable to believe his luck. "Two secrets," he repeats. "Aaah. Okay. Agreed." He thinks for a moment, then says, "Metro Man and I are from the same star system."

Roxanne leans away just enough so she can look around at his face. "Really?"

"It's true. We were both headed for Scott Manor, but he knocked me off course."

"Huh." Roxanne settles back in. "Wow. You could've grown up a rich brat. Can you imagine?"

"I've tried, and no, I can't." He shakes his head. "It's just too weird." Then he pauses. "You…you aren't actually dating him, by the way. Are you?"

Roxanne laughs again and shakes her head. "Nope!" she exclaims. "Not even a little bit. We're friends. I mean, we're good friends! But the closest we've ever been to a date is just getting food together sometimes. He's just not my type."

"Not your type," Megamind says, startled. "He's Adoonis with superpowers. What is your type, if not that?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out," Roxanne replies primly. She's always preferred brains to brawn, but she's not about to tell Megamind that. Not tonight, anyway; she's not adding that to his plate, not while she's squeezed against his side and he's slowly, finally, starting to relax. "C'mon, secret number two! What is it?"

Megamind fumbles for a moment, still preoccupied with the concept that Metro Man is, somehow, not a universal type for everyone even remotely interested in men. "Um—nobody liked me when I was in school. I was always picked last for everything."

Roxanne is quiet for a moment, and he's not sure what she's thinking. He realizes a little late that that's not really a secret; there's lots of people who know that. But they never thought anything of it.

"Well," Roxanne finally says, "it's too bad we didn't go to the same school," and Megamind's world goes soft and pink at the corners.

I'm in trouble, he thinks, not for the first time. But this is the first time his heart hasn't sunk at the thought.

This is very much not how he'd pictured tonight ending. Before Roxanne came home, he had been trying to think of the network of tunnels under the city, trying to remember how they went deeper down, trying to think of a place he could go that wouldn't fill with water during the storms. Trying to think of what to say to her, how to say it, never dreaming that he'd actually disclose the bond tonight. Either way, no matter when he talked to her about it, he hadn't thought they'd wind up on speaking terms—let alone on touching terms. Let alone on cuddling terms.

This is so much better. And so much worse. At least the drain would be predictable—cold, damp. He likes cold and damp; they're dependable. This, though…this, this living-with-Roxanne business, what happens when it ends? Where does he go then? He can't leave this. It scares him like nothing else. But…

But Roxanne is soft and steady. And her apartment is light and safety, and Megamind couldn't give it up if he tried. If she's forgiven him—and she has; amazingly, incredibly, she hadn't even thought there was anything to forgive—then he will stay here, with her, as long as she'll have him.

A few minutes pass. Then Roxanne says, "I'm going to start calling you 'Brainmate' instead of 'Spaceman.'"

Megamind winces. "Please don't," he says, but Roxanne just throws her head back onto his shoulder and laughs.

This is so much better.

Chapter Text

Soundtrack Link (YouTube)

The next morning, Roxanne gets up early and heads down to the corner bakery. After the rough night they'd had, they both need a little change of pace, and what could be better than toasted everything bagels with lots of cream cheese and toppings?

It turns out Megamind has never had bagels before, which is strange to Roxanne, who grew up eating them almost every Saturday—it wasn't the weekend without bagels and cream cheese—but what's really funny is that he's never even seen one. Roxanne finds this out when he picks one out of the box and bites into it, doesn't even cut it or toast it or anything, and it's pretty clear that he had no idea what he was biting into because his whole expression just twists. He's standing frozen by the kitchen island with his teeth in the bagel and his lips pulling back from his gums, one eyebrow twitching and the other crawling up his forehead, and Roxanne is bent double and crying with laughter, because Megamind's face. She'd nearly forgotten how elastic his face is.

Megamind pulls the bagel out of his mouth and spits the piece he'd bitten off into his hand, then squints at it, licking his teeth. Then he looks up at Roxanne. "What is this?" he asks, looking like he isn't sure whether to glare or not. "Is this some sort of joke?"

Roxanne tries to stand up straight to reply but she can't stop laughing; after a moment, she just puts her face in her arms on the counter and howls.

Megamind stands uncertainly by the island. "If you don't explain this to me," he warns after a few seconds, "I'm going to mash the chewed piece on your head and you're going to have to shower again."

Roxanne lifts her head and chokes out, "It's a bagel. Haven't you ever had a bagel before?"

"Bagels don't have bits on them." Megamind dangles the one he'd selected by two fingers. "What is this?"

"It's…ow, my ribs. Okay." Roxanne straightens, wiping tears from her eyes, lips twitching. "It's an everything bagel. It's got onions and sesame and poppy seeds, salt, garlic…what did you think it was?"

Megamind shrugs, staring at the thing in his hand. "Some new kind of doughnut. This bay-gull is full of lies."

Roxanne snorts, but manages to stifle the giggles that threaten. "Yeah, I wouldn't want to bite into one of those either if I thought it was a doughnut. That'd be like…eating a deviled egg and expecting it to be a cupcake."

"Yechhh," Megamind says, his horrified green gaze flicking to her again. "Why would you say that?"

"But look, they're really good," Roxanne insists. "You cut them and toast them and put cream cheese on. And little pickled capers. Here, try," she says, holding out half her bagel, which she'd just finished arranging her onions and capers on, but Megamind pinches his lips together and leans away.

"No." He wrinkles his nose. "They're probably just little pickled lies. You can't put lies on top of lies and make it better."

"Oh, says you. Just try it."

Megamind rumples his face at her but finally opens his mouth, squinching his eyes shut. Roxanne rolls her eyes and steps forward, thinking, Well, fine, if he's going to be a child about it, and puts it in his mouth. Megamind peeks at her, one green eye slitting open as he bites down.

Bagels being what they are, it takes a small, ridiculous tug-of-war before Roxanne gets the rest of her breakfast back. "There," she says, cocking an eyebrow at him and stepping back. "Not so bad, huh?"

Megamind chews slowly, his expression unreadable. As much as he hates to admit it…now that he's not expecting sugar, the odd combination of savory flavors is almost good.

"Well?" Roxanne, ever impatient, taps her foot, then smirks. "C'mon, Brainmate." She wiggles her eyebrows at him, smug. "Tell me I'm right."

Megamind swallows the bite in his mouth, puts his chomped bagel on the counter and tosses his initial bite into the sink for the disposal to get later, then aims a finger at the half Roxanne is still holding. "That's got my germs on it," he says. "It's mine now. Hand it over."

She laughs. "Not on your life! Toast your own. Here, I'll show you. There's a trick to spreading the cream cheese on hot bread so it doesn't go all stupid and melty…"

"So," Megamind says a few minutes later, fumbling a little with the cream cheese, which he hasn't yet gotten the hang of, "why bagels?"

Roxanne shrugs and scuffles her slippered feet over to the refrigerator to get the capers back out for him. "I like them. Paul used to run out and get them every Saturday morning before me and Rosemary woke up so they'd be fresh."

"Paul?" Megamind asks, glancing at her. "Rosemary?"

"Oh…Rosemary is my, um, other sister. Two years younger than me. Paul was my stepdad."

Megamind's hand pauses on the tiny caper spoon. "Was," he repeats.

Roxanne nods. "Yeah, he had a stroke a couple years ago. Died in his sleep three days later." She leans on the counter. "Minion drove me to the hospital when I got the call. You let me out of the kidnapping that time."

Megamind frowns. "I remember that."

Roxanne starts to say something, then seems to think better of it and shakes her head.

"What?" Megamind says.

Roxanne is quiet for a long minute, her eyes distant, before she quietly asks, "You're sure you tried everything?" and Megamind feels his lips thin. "I'm sorry," Roxanne says quickly, "I didn't mean…"

"Everything I could think of," he tells her, his voice flat. "And I've…tried to think of what else I could try. There's nothing. It's all…just blank. Every time." He huffs a little sigh, puffing his cheeks. "You know, I had to leave the Lair? Towards the end, I…I was averaging four hours of sleep a week. It…wasn't good."

Roxanne puts her hand on his arm and he jumps a little. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, I…talking is okay," he says, but now that he's said it, the words are gone. Frowning, he turns around and hoists himself up onto Roxanne's kitchen counter, moves his plate to his knees.

"If you want, we could go back to the Lair," Roxanne offers. "You've got me, now; maybe that'll change things?"

Megamind shakes his head. "I'd rather not. It's a mess. I went…I turned it upside down. I don't want that to happen again. I'm not sure I could…"

He trails into another long, awkward pause, then shrugs quickly and returns to his bagel.

"But if…if you missed something, wouldn't you want to know?"

Megamind stops with the bagel halfway to his mouth. "Not if I wasn't sure it would help me get him back," he says, after a second. "No. I don't…I couldn't…handle that. Talk to me about something else," he adds with a wry grin, "please. Or I'm going to be useless for the rest of the day."

Roxanne watches him for a moment, then smiles. "I'm going to make bacon," she announces. "I make great bacon. You want to learn?"

"I would love to," Megamind replies fervently.

"Good." Roxanne nudges his hip. "Hop down, I need to get to the drawer. And you'll want to put your gloves on, because making bacon hurts. Can you run in my room and grab the red hoodie off my chair? I need something with sleeves that cover my hands."

Megamind snorts and jumps to the floor. "'Kay. Don't touch my bagel."

"I've got my own, I don't need yours."

Roxanne stands for a moment, just staring into the fridge and thinking about her conversation with Metro Man earlier that week. Minion might not be dead. Just back in time. But if Megamind doesn't want to know…well, but maybe she and Wayne will be able to figure something out. After all, Wayne understands this time travel stuff on a deeper level; apparently, it's part of what he is. Maybe…

All she wants is to be able to walk in the door with Minion hale and whole behind her. That's all she wants. Megamind can't know until the deed is done and Minion is home. She doesn't even know if it'll work; maybe Wayne is wrong. But if. If he's right, if they can pull this off…

"You were a lifeguard?"

Roxanne jumps; she's not sure she'll ever get used to how silently Megamind walks. "Oh!" she exclaims. "Yeah, years ago. That's probably the oldest sweatshirt I own." She laughs and does her best to put Minion out of her mind. If Megamind notices that she's thinking about something and he presses her, Roxanne's not sure she'll be able to lie to him about something like this.

But still, she's going to have a rough time hiding this from him.

Metro Man texts her at work two days later. Hey I'm at the lair. Think I've worked out why the gun didn't work the same when MM shot other stuff. Reset button takes A LOT of power.

Roxanne swallows. Really? she texts back.

Remember that bunch of nutty storms last summer? Like 3 in a row? Bet there was a surge.

No way, Roxanne tells him, Megamind would have surge protectors.

He takes a bit longer to reply this time. Maybe. Need your input on this. You free tonight?

On-air tonight. Tomorrow? Or I have off Thursday?

Charity dinner tomorrow… & Thursday I've got that stupid chamber of commerce meeting with the suits.

Roxanne snorts. Nobody hates the Chamber like Metro Man. Friday, she sends.

Friday. H8 to leave it so long.

I know. Roxanne bites her lip; the suspense is killing her. I'll make a diversion Thursday? Get you out of the meeting. Where's it held?

Don't you dare. Meeting sux but it's important. I'll see you Friday.

Roxanne rolls her eyes. Boring McBoringpants. He's right, you are a goody-2-shoes.

He's a bad influence is what he is :P see you Friday

She doesn't respond; he's probably busy and she has enough on her plate preparing for that evening's news segment. She shoves the Minion problem to the back of her mind as best she can, but it's hard. Even when she's taking instructions through her earpiece and scanning for new information in tweets and message boards, part of her is still trying not to agonize over something she might not be able to change.

On Thursday evening, Megamind goes out. Roxanne's not sure where he's going, and she doesn't ask—he just suddenly gets to his feet and grabs his keys, glaring down at the pieces of his electromagnetic device, which are spread out in a semicircle on the floor.

"Heading out?" Roxanne says, glancing up from her book.

Megamind nods. "I'll be back later."

She shrugs. "Sounds good. Stay safe."

And he must be feeling more like himself than Roxanne had realized, because he rolls his eyes at her and says, "Ugh, you're such a guppy" as he leaves.

Roxanne blinks after him, then snorts and gets to her feet. She's going to dust. She's wanted to dust for a few days, but Megamind either hadn't noticed or wasn't sure how to do it, and Roxanne hadn't wanted to start while he was around because cleaning and loud music go together like peas and carrots, in her book. And Megamind doesn't need to be present for any of that.

She goes to her stereo, drops a couple of her cleaning mix CDs into the six-changer and sets it on random, turns the volume up, goes to her closet and grabs the dust-rag and the Pledge as Aerosmith starts with Back in the Saddle.

Roxanne's taste in music is varied but leans mostly towards hard rock and roll and heavy metal, the older stuff in particular, and her cleaning mixes tend to be on the heavier side. Black Sabbath follows Aerosmith with Led Zepplin on its heels. One of these days she'll have to get an iPod or something so she won't be limited by the size of a CD.

A lot of these songs are fun to try and sing along to, and since Roxanne can't really hear herself over the music, she doesn't mind belting out the lyrics as best she can. She's not expecting Megamind to be back anytime soon, which is why she almost screams when she spins around in the middle of boogieing her heart out during the chorus of Beautiful Girls and sees him standing just inside the door. His eyebrows are higher than she's seen them in weeks.

Well, he's already here and she's having too much fun to be mortified, so she just shrugs and carries on dancing. "Come on!" she says loudly. "You in, or what?"

Megamind grins wide and steps forward. "You like Van Halen?" he says over the music.

"Love it!" she exclaims, then pauses, laughing—there's some serious air guitar going on in Megamind's corner—and abandons dancing in favor of joining in on the imaginary drums for what little remains of the song.

The next track on the CD is Metallica's Nothing Else Matters, and since it's reasonably slow, Roxanne picks up the dust rag, intending to return to her little chore. Instead, she turns around and then jumps back, because Megamind has just appeared behind her, his hands extended.

"Dance?" he says, still grinning, but there's an uncertain quirk to his lips that wasn't there initially. "You were dancing before. When I came in."

Taken aback, Roxanne raises her eyebrows, but nods. "Okay…" she says. "Sure. If you can dance to this, let's dance." Then she adds, "What…do I do?" because if the way Megamind holds himself is any indication, his invitation includes a bit more than just standing in front of each other and breaking out the club moves.

Megamind's eyes light when she accepts. "Ah…p-put your left hand on my shoulder…yes. Now…um…" He falters, half-freezing.

Roxanne cocks a grin at him. "Tell you what, you just put me where you need me," she instructs him, holding up her other hand. She's expecting him to blush and stammer something else, but instead…

Instead, his green eyes flick to hers for a split second, and then his smile softens and he nods and steps closer, catching her raised hand in his as he reaches around her other side to rest his free hand high on Roxanne's back, with his elbow under hers. His eyes are downcast now as he raises their joined hands and their elbows to shoulder height, but he's not hesitant about any of it.

"I can't dance," Roxanne warns as Megamind moves in, because this feels unexpectedly formal, "I don't know how," but Megamind huffs something that might, possibly, be a laugh and shakes his head.

"Anyone can dance to this, it's in three-quarter time, it's easy," he scoffs. "Just keep your knees loose and follow my lead. Ready?"

"No," Roxanne says. "What foot first? What's your lead?"

"It's a three-step," Megamind explains. "Slowly now, move with me. I step back with my right foot and you step forward with your left…good. Then I step forward with my left foot and you step back with your right." Roxanne shifts, staring down at their feet. "Then I'll bring my right foot forward again," Megamind continues, and Roxanne, who thinks she might have the general idea, nods.

"And I'll bring my left foot in with your right?" she asks. "We keep our feet together? I mirror you, is that the goal?"

"That's the goal," Megamind tells her in a quiet tone. It's oddly reassuring, and Roxanne does her best to let go of her shaky breath.

This is okay, she tells herself as she slowly moves through the steps a few times with him, her eyes on their feet, this is fine. He was right, this is easy, I shouldn't be so nervous. She forces herself to try and concentrate. Right, left, right…hm. The steps really are reasonably basic, just one-two-three, one-two-three. This isn't so hard.

It's just that…dancing isn't…she doesn't dance like this. She's going to step on his feet, or she's going to fall over and cut her shin open on the table, or something; this is going to be a disaster, she just knows it.

"All right?" Megamind asks after a few simple turns.

He's warm and solid in her hands, he smells like leather and toothpaste, and when Roxanne looks up from staring at her toes and sees how he's watching her through his eyelashes, she knows he's offering to let her go back to her chore before they do anything more complicated.

"All right," Roxanne says, sounding more confident than she feels, "you lead, I'll follow."

Megamind's eyes crinkle at the corners as he lifts his chin and squares his shoulders, gently pressing Roxanne flush against him, the way he was holding her before the lesson in footwork. "And now," he murmurs, gripping her hand more firmly.

And now the steps are wider. The steps are wider and their arms are tighter and Roxanne can't see her feet anymore, and they're turning, but Megamind guides her with his hands and his hips, whirling them around in time to the slow beat of the song, and it's not so hard to follow him.

Wow, Roxanne thinks dizzily, oh my—oh my god—this is weird—this is awesome—who knew he could dance? And then, Wait a minute…is this…? She blinks, her concentration slipping a little, and tilts her head at him. He hadn't told her the name of the dance and Roxanne had been too distracted to ask, but she thinks she may have seen this done somewhere before, and if she's right, then this is possibly the best and most surprising surprise ever.

"Megamind," Roxanne says, "is this a waltz?"

Megamind actually winks at her. Roxanne's mouth falls open, but then a tug on her hand pulls her back to the dance. "Spin!" Megamind says, grinning now, eyebrows raised. "Catch my opposite hand." And before Roxanne quite knows what's going on, he spins her out and away before reaching as though for a handshake. Roxanne follows his direction, too amazed to question at this point, and Megamind pulls her in, twirls her under his arm so they're facing the same direction, and draws her hand across his shoulders. And suddenly his free hand is on her waist and she's leaning sideways against him while he leans sideways—is this still a waltz? this feels more like a tango move than a waltz, Roxanne thinks—and then he's spinning her back again and they're stepping away like they had been before.

And she can't stop staring.

They spin, they twirl, Megamind's hands are steady and his movements are sure. The song is a slow one, so there's time to recover from occasional stumbles. "Where did you learn this?" Roxanne asks as they step easily around the sofa.

"Here and there," Megamind demurs, but Roxanne gives him a Look and he chuckles. "Villains have to know how to dance—it's all about presentation, and dance helps teach you to carry yourself well. And it's easier to dance without thinking when you know you can dance to anything."

"So you can tango, too?"

"Not very well, but yes." They turn a narrow circuit through the kitchen, Megamind pinching his lip between his teeth. "This would be a lot easier if your apartment was bigger. Here, glide with me—step, step, step—good. Try a dip?"

"S-sure, okay," Roxanne stammers.

"Keep your hand on my shoulder and your weight on your right leg. Ready…and one extra step to your right, now."

"Oop," Roxanne says, staggering a little as she finds herself bending backwards over Megamind's hand. She overbalances with the unfamiliar move and adrenaline crashes through her when her feet slide out from under her; she yelps, certain she's about to fall over backwards.

But there's a lot of strength in Megamind's wiry frame and he's done this before; he slips his hand down and his foot out and scoops her center of gravity into his before she gets very far. His grip on her hand is far from crushing, but it is iron-firm. "It's okay," he says, "you're okay."

Keeping the balance, Roxanne thinks, still keeping the balance— "What am I doing wrong?" she asks, sounding a little strained, as she brings her feet back in.

"See if you can put the outside of your right foot next to my left instep. I've got you," Megamind assures her when she makes a dubious noise about moving any of her already-precarious footing, "don't worry. Tip your hips up a little and extend your left leg along my right. Yes, just like that, and arch your back instead of leaning from the hips…See?"

"'S harder than it looks." Nobody had ever told her that dips were all about supporting your own weight while making it look like your partner is doing all the work. At least she's not about to fall over anymore.

"And…up we go," Megamind says, tugging her upright, sounding pleased and only a little bit out of breath.

Nothing Else Matters is hardly a short piece, but it's nearing its end at this point. The fadeout will make dancing until the end of the song difficult even without a ritardando, so Megamind only takes a few more steps before spinning Roxanne away from him without making a move to catch her again; she's more than familiar with the song and doesn't need to be told the dance is over.

She drops her arms, rubs her palms on her jeans—not because they're sweaty, more to occupy her hands than for any other reason. "That," she says, heart still thumping in her ears from the rush of nearly falling, "was amazing."

"You dance well," Megamind tells her as the music fades away. He's pink all across his cheekbones and up to the points of his ears, but he looks otherwise self-satisfied.

"Except for the dip at the end," Roxanne reminds him, reddening. "I can't believe that was the part I got wrong, and not one of the funny spinny things earlier."

Megamind winces. He's still smiling, but he looks chagrined. "Yes, I should…probably apologize for that."

Roxanne shrugs. "Not your fault I fell over."

"I didn't explain how it would work, though, and I didn't realize…" Pinkish color splashes across his cheeks and up his ears as he spreads his hands. "It didn't occur to me that you'd trust me not to drop you. I-I thought you'd keep your own weight anyway, I never dreamed you might…I should have told you how to do it," he finally finishes, blushing all the way down his neck, now. "It is sort of my fault."

Roxanne snorts. "It looks like my trust was well-placed," she says, folding her arms across her chest in spite of her good mood. She's still feeling shivery, which is weird because she's so warm. And tingly, like she's full of fire or lightning or something. It's the adrenaline. It must be. Shaking her head, she skirts around the sofa and drops onto it, hoping that will calm her nerves. "You didn't drop me."

Megamind's smile turns shy again for a moment. "Well," he says, ignoring this observation as he claims the orange wingback, "other than that, you danced well."

"I had a good lead!" Roxanne exclaims. "Seriously, Megamind, where did you learn all that? Tell me. You have to tell me."

Megamind groans. "You'll laugh."

"I won't," Roxanne promises, even though she already halfway is. This was all just so unexpected. Ballroom dancing was nowhere near her list of potential things Megamind might know how to do. Ballroom dancing has never even been in the same room as the list. "Cross my heart, I won't laugh."

"Prom."

Roxanne blinks. For a moment, she thinks she's mis-heard; it wouldn't be hard, since the opening chords of Crazy Train are on the loud side. "What?"

"Prom," Megamind repeats, nodding. He's still blushing furiously, rubbing the tips of his gray-gloved fingers against the odd tweed fabric of the armchair. "I was…nervous about prom. So, I made sure I would know how to dance. The warden taught me the foxtrot, and my uncle Chris taught me to waltz."

There are several new concepts accompanying that apparently innocent fact—one, Megamind went to prom when he was in high school, which is just the weirdest mental image. Two, the warden, with whom Roxanne is acquainted but doesn't know very well and has always thought of as a stodgy, boring sort of person, knows how to foxtrot and taught Megamind; and three, Roxanne has never thought of inmates as potentially knowing any ballroom dances. It makes sense that some of them would, she's just never thought of it before.

"You're staring at me," Megamind observes, cocking his head. "What is the purpose of your face?"

Roxanne snorts at his phrasing and shakes her head, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. "I…sorry, I'm trying to imagine you in a suit and it's just not working." She chuckles.

Megamind pulls back a little and wrinkles his nose in mild offense. "I'll have you know I look quite dashing in a suit."

I bet you do, Roxanne thinks. With that shoulder-to-waist ratio? Oh yes.

"No, it's…I just can't believe you went to prom."

Megamind bristles further. "Why not?" he asks.

Roxanne shrugs, still too amazed to really be sensitive about this. "It just doesn't seem like your style. It's not like I think nobody would have gone with you, or anything," she adds, almost as an afterthought.

He watches her for a moment, then gives a mollified nod. "You're right, it wasn't my style. And nobody would go with me, so you'd have been right about that, too."

"I would've," Roxanne says without thinking, and Megamind looks up sharply.

Then he frowns. "You would now," he says. "Then…no."

"I don't know." Roxanne leans back, tilting her head, studying him with a critical eye. "I think if you'd asked me properly, I might have." Then, before he can respond to that, she asks, "If it wasn't your thing, why did you go?"

Megamind ducks his head a little, wearing a small, strange smile. It's not bitter, but it carries the sense that it used to be very bitter indeed, once upon a time. Now it seems more wistful than anything. "I wanted it to be my thing," he admits. "I wasn't always so gong-ho about villainy. And Minion never was." His smile slips a notch as he looks away. "He loved this song, by the way."

"Minion didn't approve of your career choice? He always seemed perfectly happy to me."

Megamind shrugs. "He was supportive. I think he enjoyed it for the most part. But he worried about me," he continues, and Roxanne remembers the flashes of fear in Minion's eyes that always signified a close escape on Megamind's part. "Supervillains don't get happy endings, it's a fact of life. We've always known that." Then his smile comes back, and this time it's tight around the edges, truly bitter. "Case in point," he adds, gesturing at himself and then the room. "Me, alone, sans henchfish."

"You thought it would be you, didn't you," Roxanne murmurs.

Megamind shifts uncomfortably, rocking to pull one leg under him. "I was the one in the line of fire," he points out. "Oddly enough, it…never really occurred to me that Minion would have to go through…this."

Roxanne bites her lip. It would have occurred to Minion.

"I wonder what he would have done," Megamind says, after a long moment.

Roxanne looks at him, sitting in her living room, very blue against the orange of her chair and frowning contemplatively at the floor, all sharp angles and long, clean lines. "I hope he would have come to me," she says without thinking, and then, when Megamind's green eyes flash to her, she flushes. "I'd have done the same for him, you know. Maybe with a…a different…" Sentiment, she thinks, swallowing against the sudden constriction in her throat, "utility, but he's as welcome to my brain as you are."

Megamind's lips twitch and he cants his head to the side. "You are remarkable," he tells her. "You know that? Wholly remarkable."

"Oh, come on," Roxanne says, coloring at the compliment because if Megamind says she's remarkable, well then. Well then, but also oh no, because she thinks she's just figured out why she feels like a storm cloud right before the rain starts. "I'm not that special."

"You are." He lifts his eyebrows a little, quirks the corner of his mouth. "What other woman on Earth would help us the way you have? Maybe without knowing who we were—I'll allow someone might look past our appearance if we turned up on the doorstep as strangers—but after everything we put you through?" He shakes his massive head. "And yet. Here you are."

"Yep, here I am," Roxanne agrees. "Dancing to Metallica with my supervillain."

"Mmm. Going off the rails on a crazy traain," he hums.

Roxanne grins at him, then looks down at her hands. Smiling like he had a few minutes ago, his green eyes lit with excitement, his shoulders back and his head up, confidently asking her to dance—holding her in his arms, sure of himself—bending her back—gloved hand in hers—

Shit, she thinks.

"This was one of his favorite songs," Megamind says, startling her out of her reverie. There's another odd little smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I can change it," Roxanne offers, but Megamind shakes his head.

"No," he says. "Leave it." He has to turn his head a bit in order to lean back in the high-backed chair, but he manages, his eyes slipping closed.

Emotionally unavailable, Roxanne tells herself. Not fair to him, not fair to you, don't go there. Just don't.

It's too late for that, she knows. So she swallows again, smiles thinly, and also tells herself that he's an alien, not even her species, not a smart match. She tells herself he has too much baggage. We're friends, she thinks firmly. Just friends. That's all.

And the reason she's so worried about whether this thing with Minion will work has nothing to do with the fact that if she breaks Megamind's heart, she may as well break her own. Of course, that's not an issue. Ha.

It's not fair, she thinks, her throat tightening as she watches Megamind's lips move to the lyrics. Minion might still be alive, and she can't tell him, and it feels like this vast thing between them, and he doesn't even know.

And there's still so much she doesn't know—what the link with Minion is responsible for, why linking with her might be different, why Megamind's words have been coming faster and faster over the past few days. What Megamind wants in life, what his goals are, his dreams. They talk about the day-to-day pieces of life, but the past and future? No. Megamind shies away from thinking too hard about the past—understandably—and he doesn't seem to have it in him to plan for the future right now.

But he's easy to live with, and he really has become one of her dearest friends over the past couple months. It doesn't help that he's also handsome, in a fine-boned, wiry way, and he's starting to move with his old grace again…

She shakes herself away from this train of thought; it's not helping anything. Crazy Train is ending, so she clears her throat and nods at the pieces of the electromagnet spread out on the floor at the foot of Megamind's bed. "So…you having trouble with the magnet?" she asks.

Megamind slits an eye open at her, then sighs and blinks a bit, turns forward to lean on his knees. "It's embarrassing," he says, staring over at the mess on the floor. "This is hardly the most complicated contraption I've built. I think I threw it together in an hour, start to finish." He shrugs narrow shoulders, shakes his huge head. "But now…it's just not working."

"Can I help?"

Brilliant-green eyes flick to her. "You help more than you know," he says.

Roxanne colors. "You know what I mean."

Megamind pinches his lips together, shakes his head again. "I'm missing a couple components that would increase its efficiency to the point that I'd need. I know what they are, but putting them together is another story." He huffs an irritated sigh. "If I knew what was wrong with me, maybe I could fix it, but…"

"This is one of the things Minion did, isn't it?" Roxanne asks.

"I guess so." He stands, rolling his shoulders. "There's a lot we never found out. It's not like we had time to learn much about it before we left—Minion was handed to me as the door to my pod was closing."

"When…" Roxanne starts to ask, then cuts herself off, uncertain if this is something it's safe to talk about or not.

"I was eight days old," Megamind says shortly. "I mostly spent it with my parents while they checked their math."

Eight days? Roxanne stares at him, shocked.

"I used to think," he says after a moment's frowning thought, stepping over to the big glass doors to Roxanne's deck, "maybe it wasn't just me, maybe there were others. People who left before I did." He touches the glass, glances at his hands, then undoes the clasp on one of his gloves and tugs it off so he can roll his bare knuckles across the pane, rub his fingers against each other. He shoves the glove into his pocket. "But my pod's tech was…rudimentary, at best. And if we'd had the math worked out to begin with, my parents wouldn't have been so wrapped up in checking their work."

Roxanne watches him flex his fingers, move his hand back and forth, cup the air streaming through the crack between the doors. With his hands in the gloves all the time, he must not get much tactile response. Even standing with his back mostly to her, as he is now, she can see him frowning when he turns his head.

Megamind doesn't know the backs of his own hands, Roxanne realizes. He takes the gloves off when he cooks, but he had never cooked before she brought him home—he's gloveless when he sleeps, too, and maybe Roxanne wouldn't have believed that was the only time he looked at his own hands, but she remembers the first time he reached out to her was immediately after she brought him the gloves, and the only time he's touched her bare-handed was when he was drunk, so…

He touches her with gloves—touched Minion behind glass—views the world from behind bars—And this, the touching, this is okay?

That's no way to live. That's no way to interact with the world.

Roxanne pushes herself to her feet and goes to stand with him at the glass, takes his hand before he can put his glove back on. Judging by how badly he startles, he must have been years away in his head.

He starts to pull away, but Roxanne doesn't let him. She presses against the back of his wrist and pushes her thumb up the middle of his palm, turns his hand to thread her fingers with his. Megamind lets her, though it takes him a few seconds to curl his fingers down over her knuckles. Roxanne runs the fingertips of her free hand over the tendons that shift under his skin when he squeezes a little. Then she straightens her fingers to get free, takes him by the wrist instead. Again, he lets her, though Roxanne can't stand to look at what happens to his expression when she brings his hand up and bends her head so his long fingers card into her hair.

She can feel how tense he is, he's almost vibrating with it, but he doesn't move his hand when she lets go of his wrist. "Th-this," he says, half-lifting his other hand, still gloved. "I…can I?"

He's only asking if he can use both, and Roxanne knows it, but she's not sure she can actually speak right now. She can't nod, either; his eyes are shining but there's still that awful tension in his shoulders like he's bracing himself, and Roxanne doesn't want to give him any reason to think she's pulling away from his touch. So she takes his hand instead, undoes the snap, works the leather off his skin herself. Megamind holds very still, watching her, but he scrunches his nose in a bewildered little grin when he finally sifts both hands in next to her scalp and combs outwards.

"I wish I knew what to tell you," Roxanne says quietly. He keeps fluffing the short strands as he bends his head to hers, but he doesn't say anything. It's a reassurance but Roxanne can't leave things there. "I wish I knew how to help. I'm so sorry," she says, and that's where she stops, because as much as she wants to apologize, she's not even sure what she's apologizing for—not knowing how to help, and sorrow for his planet, for Minion, for her deception, for feeling glad in spite of everything that he came to Earth and found her here. For falling in love with him when he's feeling so unlike himself.

Megamind's hands still, and then his long fingers twist and clench in a way that really shouldn't feel as comfortingly solid as it does. "This is enough," he says, his naked hands in her hair, his heart in his mouth, their foreheads together. He closes his eyes. "This is enough."

The stars are back in position. They, too, keep time. A year has passed.

And how many years are behind him, and how many more lie ahead—years of eating, of sleeping, years of dreaming light and color, years of waking to shadowy weeds and emptiness.

Sometimes there are boats. These are interesting. Sometimes the boats drop items in the water—very rarely anything he can add to his list of resources, but he can use string and fishing wire.

They drop bottles, too. Glass. He's found others littering the bottom of the lake, various sizes, mostly green-colored. They aren't useful to him, but he brings them together, arranges them around his sleeping hut like spokes, their necks pointing outward.

Maybe it would have stopped there, but he keeps finding bottles. He brings them back to the sleeping hut—it's not home, it can't be—and arranges them another way, widens the circle, doubles the layer of spokes.

He spends his free time ranging farther and farther afield in search of more bottles and pieces of glass, and sometimes swims quick laps around his expanding yard to clear the silt. This is how it goes. He builds his nest, decorates it, defends it. He takes what he has and nudges it into something he can use. Nothing fancy. But enough to impress.

The round fish move into some of the bottles. He considers this, decides he'll allow it. A ready food source is always welcome, and if he's careful, he can maintain their population.

He knows, as he always has, that decorating a nest in hopes of attracting attention is futile. But he persists. It's not much of a purpose, but it's his. And maybe someone will see the dull sparkle and realize he's worth bringing home.

Chapter Text

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True to his word, Wayne takes Roxanne over to the empty Lair on Friday after work to look around and see if they can replicate what happened to Minion. It's too quiet in the Lair, almost eerily so. The massive generators that ordinarily power the place are in standby and the machines are dark. Everything is covered in several layers of dust, giving the whole space a kind of derelict feel.

But the creepiest part, as far as Roxanne is concerned, is the brainbots. Every other time she's been here, the Lair has been a hive of brainbot activity, but now they're lying scattered across every floor with their eyes shuttered and dust caked on their domes. Megamind's main room looks like a graveyard of the little cyborgs, which seems…deeply uncharacteristic; Roxanne had always assumed the bots would have docking stations somewhere.

She's not sure exactly when Megamind left, but it's clear he wasn't planning on returning.

Most of the Lair is more utilitarian than the show-slash-battle rooms Roxanne has seen before. In Megamind's workspaces—cluttered, but surprisingly open areas—the Tesla coils and blinky dials are replaced by tangles of wires and metal pipes. His only concession to decoration in these large workrooms seems to be the sheets of reddish cloth hanging from the high ceilings, draped over criss-crossed wires and coolant pipes. The rest of the space appears strictly dedicated to his work.

One of the largest rooms appears to be a catch-all for storage, development, and brainstorming. One corner houses two blackboards and a tangle of cobwebby strings hanging from the ceiling, each clipped to various pages, drawings, notes, and scraps of blueprints. Nearby, there's a drawing board with half of a huge sheet of white paper on it—the other half lies on the floor where he'd thrown it after ripping it away. This is a far cry from the matter disruptor's meticulously neat blueprints; Megamind's frenetic scribbles extend all the way to the corners of the page. Several similar sheets lie scattered on the floor. Roxanne swallows hard and moves on, looking at one of the stands of monitors.

It's not a viewscreen; those are made up of uniformly-sized monitors. This is more of a pile, constructed of screens of various sizes all stacked on top of each other. Some are partially hidden behinds others, and Megamind doesn't appear to discriminate based on age; the computer on the bottom looks like the one Roxanne's parents had in the mid-1980s, an IBM. Oddly enough, that's the only monitor she can see that has a keyboard hooked up to it.

"Come on, Roxie, we're burning daylight," Metro Man says when he glances back and sees her lingering, and Roxanne tears herself away and hurries across the floor to catch up to him.

"Not too big on drywall, is he?" she observes, glancing at the exposed ductwork and plumbing across the ceiling and what little she can see of the walls—most are obscured by heavy machinery, battlesuits in the process of being broken down, more blackboards, more faded red drapes, insulated cords, and wires, wires, wires.

Metro Man shrugs. "It's a fire trap either way," he points out. "Darn good thing he turned out the lights when he left. But something's still running, somewhere deep."

Roxanne glances up at him. "Power supply?"

"No. Near as I can make out, it's some kind of contained habitat. Fish and whatnot, filters, a big tank. It's in the city's power grid, so it didn't go down when he stopped the reactors."

Another surprise. "Reactors?"

He shrugs, holds a red curtain aside so Roxanne can walk through. "This whole place is nuclear. Well," he amends, "what doesn't run on tidal energy is nuclear."

Roxanne frowns. "The Great Lakes don't have tides."

"Sure, they do," Metro Man says, leading her down a dark hallway. "They're water. They're huge."

But Roxanne shakes her head. "They're still not big enough for true tides. The lakes have seiches, but those are different."

"Huh," Metro Man says, and steers her into a side room lined with rickety shelves, mostly empty except for a few odds and ends. The back wall is completely clear. He has to help her over the door; it's late enough in the day that the Lair is very dim, and the cold metal door is bent almost in half, only attached to the wall by its lower hinge. "Gun's in here. This area is reinforced, you can't see it, but I can."

"X-ray vision?" she guesses.

Metro Man grimaces. "Sort of. Not really. More of an energy thing." He's never been able to adequately explain all of what he is. The super-hearing, the x-ray and laser vision, his cooling breath: comic-book hero terminology. Oversimplifications. They allow the average citizen to feel like they understand him, that's all. They make Metro Man relatable, but they're not accurate terms. It doesn't bother him, usually.

He floats over to the boxy piece of equipment in the corner. "The reinforcements are wired in, they only kicked on when I hauled in the gas generator," he says, priming it and turning it on. Then he plugs in the electric bulb in its wire cage he'd been using for light earlier. Roxanne winces and shields her eyes from the sudden light as Wayne glances up and around the room. "Not sure how they're pulling ambient power from a gas generator, but there it is."

Roxanne looks at him, blinking a little. "So, it's not…vision? What is it, then?"

"Complicated," Metro Man replies, trying to brush it off—and usually, Roxanne is willing to take his word on this sort of thing.

Today, she hesitates. Then, slowly, she says, "Look, I want to understand this gun. If I understand the protective measures he put in place, maybe I'll be able to understand what went wrong and how to fix it."

Metro Man sighs. "I don't think this'll be much help."

"Try," Roxanne suggests. "It can't hurt, right?"

"It's just another force, Roxie. I dunno what it is, okay?" He rolls over in the air, testing the energy in the room again. He can see it, he supposes, but not with his eyes. "You don't have words for it in English. In any language. It's about midway between an electromagnetic field and contained barometric pressure."

Roxanne blinks at him. "So…it's a force field."

"Yeah. A force field," Metro Man says shortly. Humans. It's all just forces, to them—if they can't sense it, it doesn't matter. He's fine with that, for the most part, but it does get irritating when he wants to be understood.

"Okay," Roxanne says slowly. "What kind of force?"

Metro Man flips back over and stares at her. Nobody asks what kind of force field anything is. "Why," he says, "would you ask that?"

"Eh." She shrugs. She's standing in the middle of the room with one arm across her chest, chewing thoughtfully on one of the knuckles of her opposite hand and frowning at the gun rather than at him. "It seems relevant."

"It's not," he says. Something about the way she's holding herself doesn't sit well with him. "It's not relevant. It was designed to contain mistakes caused by a matter disruptor, okay? Which this gun isn't. Or shouldn't be. Look, I can…I can sense things you can't, okay?" he adds sharply, when Roxanne's blue eyes flick to him and her eyebrows lower like she's going to argue. "I just can. It's not important, it's not relevant, it's just—it's just how I'm built and I don't like talking about it. That's all."

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, okay, jeez," she says. "Touchy."

"Whatever." He changes the subject, forcing himself to ignore her stance and the way her lips turn down at the corners. "So, here's what happened when I was trying to work with it before…"

He aims the gun at the floor and lifts a sheet of scrap metal onto a shelf along the back wall, then goes back to the gun, re-aims it, and fires. There's a flash of light, a noise like zZaAP, and the brand-new hole that appears in the middle of the scrap metal has smoking edges.

"Huh," Roxanne says. "Well, it's not back in time, I'm guessing from your tone."

"No, just vaporized," Metro Man says, turning. "I could tell if…nice glasses."

"Yes, I found them on the shelf by the door," she says with another shrug. "I imagine eye protection is probably important." She walks past him to run her hands carefully over the gun. It's half as big as she is and the barrel is wide enough that she could fit her whole head inside with room to spare. It also looks mostly finished—she has a good memory; if she's right, then the internal pieces are all where they should be. All that's missing at this point would be the decorative casing, but that wouldn't affect how it works.

"You said it needed more power?" she asks. "That's what went wrong?"

"I thought that's what happened, but you said he'd have surge protectors and you're probably right," Metro Man replies. "So I dunno what could've caused the different result. Something must've; it can't just be a random occurrence."

Roxanne steps back, thinking. The storms wouldn't have caused an electrical surge; most of Megamind's power is separate from the main grid and he'd have been prepared for that. Nuclear and tidal power…but it can't be tidal. Storms…

Wait. She stands up straight and spins on her heels, staring at Metro Man, who looks unaccountably spooked. "Why did you say this place has tidal power?"

"Because he's got some kind of rig on the lake floor," the startled hero tells her, blinking. "He has for years. It's a generator, a power source. I guess it's…say-sh, or whatever you said before."

That's new information. Roxanne doesn't ask how he knows what it is; it's probably forces again and she doesn't want him to get all weird. "Was it operational last July?"

"Yeah, last time I remember feeling it was…" He thinks for a moment. "Last…September, I think. Might've been October. Definitely after July, though. Why?"

"Because seiches surge," Roxanne says. "Especially after storms. If it's seiche power, if Megamind's setup is shallow enough and if the storms were big enough and had strong enough winds to cause a big standing wave, the resulting wave correction could have caused a power surge."

"That's…a lot of ifs."

"It'd have to be low-odds, for Megamind not to take it into account," Roxanne says. "You know he plans contingencies for everything."

Metro Man nods slowly. "Okay," he says. "So…you're saying…"

"I'm saying we're gonna need a bigger boat," she says, grinning. "Or generator, in this case."

It takes them a while, but Wayne's natural affinity for fourth-dimensional shenanigans helps a lot, and the two of them manage to get some results in only a couple hours. But it's odd. It's nothing like what the gun was doing prior to their success and it's nothing like what Roxanne was expecting based on the power Wayne is pumping into it.

At this point, Wayne has the gun's power source hooked up to his eye-lasers—or whatever they really are—via a headset Megamind had used on him once. Back then, the idea was that Metro Man could only escape using his lasers, but using his lasers meant he'd power up a seismic device set to sink Metro City below lake level. Roxanne's reasoning is that if Wayne's lasers are strong enough to restart volcanic activity under the Midcontinent Rift System, they absolutely pack enough punch to power the reset button.

And with a little help from Google and a call to a local electrician, she finds it surprisingly easy to rewire the headset's converters and power system into the matter-disruptor instead of the seismographier, ground it, and fire it up.

But when she pulls the trigger, there's no laser beam, no flash of light, no sound. Just a perfect circle vanishing out of another bit of scrap metal, and the sense that her ears popped. She jumps when the empty circle appears, and then looks up at Wayne, expecting him to be excited.

But he's frowning as he pushes the goggles up onto the rest of the headset. "Hmm," he says.

"Hm?" she echoes. "That's all you've got to say? We just sent a chunk of metal back in time, and you say 'hm?'"

"You…don't know that's what happened," he mumbles, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I don't see what else it could have been," Roxanne says. "If it was just…dissolved, or vaporized, or something, there would've been some kind of release of energy." She hurries forward—Wayne yelps and quickly points the tripod-mounted gun back down at the floor—and puts her hand directly on the curved edge of the metal. It's as smooth as glass and as cool as the rest of the room. "It's not hot, and there was no light, so it wasn't destroyed. You said we couldn't send stuff forward in time, so it must have gone back."

Wayne nods, still looking unsettled by Roxanne's apparent disregard for her safety. "I…yeah, okay. I mean…of course it did. I guess you probably didn't see the bridge matrix." He sighs and pulls the headset off, sets it carefully on the empty shelf by the door. "Get out of range, would you?"

"You already knew it worked," Roxanne accuses, backing up. "You saw it."

"Yeah," he admits. "And we're moving forward at the same temporal speed as Minion. Okay. Okay, I can…I can work with this. I think. Maybe."

Roxanne watches him closely. He still looks like there's something wrong. "You sure?"

"Well, I want to be sure, but I dunno know why I even know all this," he grumbles. "Or how."

She shakes her head. "How doesn't matter, as long as you know it. If you can…if you can figure out some kind of anchor, then we could send something back for Minion to grab onto! We could pull him back into his future."

Wayne purses his lips. "An anchor?"

"They make sea anchors, don't they? Like that. But for…for time, instead, I guess?" This is the most exciting thing to happen to her since Megamind turned up, but even as she says it, she's trying to think of what they'd need. "An anchor in time," she murmurs. "Something to hold onto, something…like…" She's got nothing. A time anchor? I've lost my mind.

"It's worth trying," Wayne says, frowning at the gun again. "But…Roxie, I just do the math, okay? I don't invent stuff. Especially not stuff like this."

"We'll figure something out," she says immediately. Concerns about her own sanity notwithstanding, they did just disappear a big piece of metal, and Wayne did just say it worked. "There must be something we can do. You know all about this, right? Inside-out and backward."

Wayne shakes his head. "Yeah, but making something that'll reflect what I know? I can't do that."

"Of course you can," she replies, but her heart is already sinking. She can see where this is going.

"Can you?" Wayne says, sharp. "Can you invent something that'll withstand a time machine? 'Cause you and me are on the same level, there."

Roxanne swallows. "I converted that headset so it would power a time machine," she points out in an uncharacteristically small voice. "I'm…sure I could figure something else out. Let's not make any rash decisions, here."

Wayne squares his shoulders. "We're gonna have to bring the little guy in on this."

"No," she says. "No. We can't."

"Roxie—"

"No!" She shakes her head. "If we're wrong, he…I can't give him that kind of hope and be wrong. We can't do that to him, Wayne; do you even hear yourself?"

"Yeah, but Roxie, we can't do this on our own," he insists, equally flatly. "We need him."

She opens her mouth to say no again, but…

Well, he's not wrong.

But tell Megamind? They can't. This could destroy him. And he'll be furious, either way, because he's just starting to feel better, he's just started to come out of his shell and move forward. This will set him right back to denial. And he'd said, himself, he wouldn't want to know something like this unless it's a sure thing.

"I'm sorry," Wayne says again.

"What if," she says slowly, "what if we sent a brainbot back with another one of those reset button thingies? The brainbot could find Minion. Give him…I don't know, a letter or something, just so we're sure he knows what's going on. And then…could you build a reset button that connects to the one in that gun? If you can hold that one in place and activate both of them at the same…uh, not the same time, but on the same frame or whatever it was…would that work?"

"Sure," Wayne says, sounding like he's losing patience, "but I don't know how to build one that connects the way you're talking about. And I don't want to get this wrong. We might only get one shot at this."

Roxanne bites her lip. As much as she wants to keep arguing, deep down, she knows he's right. And it makes her stomach turn. "I just…"

"We need him," he says again, and Roxanne can't stand it, she can't.

"I need him," she shoots back, desperate and trying to think of something else. Wayne shakes his head, looking disgusted, and turns away. "He's—he's my best friend and I love him, and I—"

Wayne whips back around; startled, Roxanne stops talking and blinks at him. "You think I want to do this to him?" he snarls, spreading his hands. "Do you think I'm happy about this? No! I hate this!" And he does; she can tell; for once, he looks about as frantic as she feels. "But we—we can't do this alone! We need him, and you know that, so why are you still arguing?"

Oddly enough, the visual confirmation that he's taking this seriously makes Roxanne feel better about the whole thing. Not good, but better. She rubs a hand back through her hair, takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly, forcing herself to stop. He's right. "Okay. Okay."

"I'm sorry," he says, and he really does look it. "I get it. I don't want to hurt him, either, but…he's our best chance. He's our only chance."

"No, I know," she sighs. "It's…it's okay. Just…how do we tell him?"

He sends her an unhappy grimace. "You know he's not gonna take it from me."

Roxanne stares at him. "You want me to do this alone?"

"I'm sorry, I really really am," he says quickly, "but—you have to be the one to do it. He hates me. He won't believe me, he'll think I'm making fun of him. About Minion. Can you even imagine how he'll respond to that?"

"And if you're there as moral support when I do it, I've betrayed him," Roxanne sighs. "Okay. Okay. Just…how do I even…"

Wayne shakes his head. "I don't know, Roxie. Just…make sure he's sitting down, I guess."

She takes her time putting her things away when he drops her off at home—at ground level, so Megamind will remain unaware of the hero's involvement. She goes to the kitchen in a half-daze, still trying to think of a way to broach the subject that won't immediately send Megamind into shock. She doesn't have much luck, but that's not surprising; she hadn't had any luck on the ride home, either, and Wayne hadn't been any more help.

She doesn't realize how out of it she probably looks until Megamind puts a gloved hand over hers on the handle of the pan she's just put on the stove, and then she suddenly notices that there's an egg in her other hand, for some reason, and she's not sure how long she's been staring into the middle distance.

She looks at Megamind, who raises his eyebrows and tips his head at her, gently questioning, wordless. Even with their new link, it looks like some things take time to change.

"No, I'm okay, I just…" She sets the egg down on the counter and swallows. "Megamind. I'm…" She puts her hands on his shoulders, realizes they're shaking, wonders when she started caring this much. She moves her hands to his face instead, sees his eyes go wide just before she closes hers and pulls him in. She presses her forehead against his, hoping maybe this will ground her, maybe she'll absorb something useful from his enormous brain from sheer proximity.

She doesn't. Again, that's no surprise. "Megamind," she says again, trying to keep her throat from getting tight. Failing. "I need to talk to you."

"All right," he says, and raises tentative hands to her cheeks as well, mirroring her touch. "You can do that. Like…like this?"

She shakes her head. "No. We should sit down."

Reluctantly, Megamind steps back. "The couch, then," he suggests, and Roxanne nods.

"Yes," she agrees. "Yes, the couch."

It isn't any easier when they're seated on the sofa. Damn. She's still waiting for a flash of inspiration, but all she has when they're finally sitting down and Megamind is staring at her with his whole face full of worry is, "I'm so sorry. In advance. Please, just listen, just…try to let me finish, okay?"

Megamind gives a slow nod, and Roxanne pinches her lips together so hard they go white before she says, "Okay. God, I…I've been standing here for a week trying to figure out how to tell you—if I even should tell you—I can't, you said, you…" Long hands settle over hers but she jerks back, then rubs her fingers into her eyes, heedless of her makeup, so she doesn't have to look at how nervous Megamind is. "Minion's alive," she says. There. Just spit it out. "We think. Metro Man and I."

Megamind doesn't say anything, and Roxanne doesn't look at him.

"We found your notebook, the gun, your blueprints, the engine thing for the reset button," she says, speaking quickly into her palms now, feeling sick. "I don't know if you know this, but Metro Man does things with…um, spacetime? And he thinks—and I agree, after he explained your math—we think Minion is still alive, maybe. We think the gun sent him back in time." She takes a deep breath and finally risks a glance at Megamind. His eyebrows are low over his eyes, and there are deep lines around his mouth. The color is draining out of his face.

That's not encouraging, but she rushes on, closing her eyes and tilting her head back so the lights shine red through her eyelids. "The, the gun, if it gets enough power, it's not a matter disruptor. It's a time disruptor. There was a…surge in the seiche-power generator, and the Minkowski thingy worked with another thing and it made a, um, a cascading Einstein-Rosen bridge?" It's probably the most simplified explanation she can give while still being accurate. "So, we think Minion's somewhere in our past. The problem is, though," she continues, swallowing hard, "we're not sure how to get him back. I thought maybe we could make some kind of time-anchor, something to hold onto here, and we could…send the other end back for Minion to grab onto. But we…"

"How?" Megamind breathes, and Roxanne looks at him again. He's white as a sheet, now, white to the lips. "How did I miss that?"

"It's not your fault—"

"It is my fault!" he says, recoiling in disgust. "I…I didn't take the compounding frequencies into account, I didn't allow for Gaussian dissonance, I didn't even realize there would be any! And Minion…no." He goes, if possible, even paler. "This means…then, it wasn't a fluke." His eyes are wide. "It was…it was me. I missed something and he's gone and it wasn't a fluke, it was my fault."

"Megamind," Roxanne says urgently. "We can get him back."

"I tried already!" he snarls, jerking away and rising to his feet in the same angry motion. "I can't, I can't believe this." He turns in a small, helpless circle, then faces Roxanne, his eyes blazing. "You've known about this for a week," he grits out. "And. You. Didn't say. You."

"You said you wouldn't want to know," Roxanne begins.

"Whether I want to is not important!" His voice is sharp when he cuts her off, but suddenly he jumps and looks around like he's just been electrocuted. "I have to—I have to go, I have to—to find—"

"Megamind, just hold on, okay?" Roxanne stands, reaches to put her hands on his shoulders, but his expression slams back to flat anger and he shoves her away.

"Don't touch me," he hisses, "don't you dare, don't you dare."

"But you said," Roxanne says again, helpless, returning to the one argument she can safely make. "You said, not unless you could be sure. And we weren't sure. We still aren't." But he had been in a different frame of mind when he told her that. He was calm, then, trying to figure out how to move forward, how to not fall into his old pattern of thinking, but now…

"If I did it, then I can undo it," he snaps. "That's certainty enough for me. How do you—how dare you not—"

"No," Roxanne insists, appalled, thinking furiously. "What kind of…Megamind, even you have limits." What narrative has he fed himself, what's going through his head? How did he leave the Lair? Was it only because he'd convinced himself that the accident with Minion was a fluke and that was why he couldn't reverse it? Because he hadn't caused it? It certainly sounds that way.

"I was trying to solve a different problem than the one at hand, that's all," Megamind says, his face going totally, frighteningly flat for a second. "If I kept trying, I would have—

"No, no, stop," he cuts himself off, eyes widening, and he lifts a shaking hand to the side of his head. Roxanne thinks she might know, now, what he meant when he told her she looked blurry around the edges. "No. Stop. I can't, I…"

His confliction is terrible to watch; he turns away, squeezing his eyes closed, shaking his head like it hurts him, breathing hard through his nose. "Can't go down that road again," he hisses. "It won't. Work. It won't work. Minion's gone. Minion's gone—"

There's a high-pitched series of whining, whistling clicks that make Roxanne jump. It takes her a moment to realize the sounds came from Megamind, but he looks at her before she can ask what they were. "Why?" he demands. "Why would you tell me this, why would you…you knew what this would do to me, you had to know."

"Because I don't know how to build something that will reel through time itself," she says, unsure if the pleading note in her voice is an attempt to apologize, calm him down, or ask him not to be angry. She hopes it's an apology; he has every right to be angry and there's nothing that will calm him down, not about this. "And neither does Metro Man. He understands the math involved, which is great, because I cannot comprehend how it works, but he doesn't build things. If we're going to do this, we need your brain." She can't tell if she should try to convince him that there's a solution or that his entire thought process is flawed and he shouldn't blame himself. She suspects the former will be easier than the latter. Focus on the solution.

Megamind stares at her for a long moment, breathing hard, and then he suddenly wrenches himself around and faces the door, his shoulders stiff.

"Megamind," Roxanne says. "Please, I…"

He holds up a hand to stop her, then drops his head, shakes it hard, squeezes his fingers into a fist so tight that even the broken-in leather creaks. Then he rounds on her. He opens his mouth to speak, but chokes on his rage, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

Roxanne stands without thinking and reaches for him, drags him into a crushing hug. "I'm sorry," she says to the wall behind him. "I'm so sorry, Megamind. I didn't want to tell you, but…"

He puts his hands on her upper arms, moves her firmly away from him. "Miss Ritchi," he says quietly. "Listen to me very carefully. Minion is dead." He swallows. "He's not coming back. I don't want to hear about this. I don't care what you do with quatrilinear vectors or transtemporal synchrony on your own time, but I am through trying to solve this."

"You can't give up," she begins, but Megamind's expression is stormy.

"Yes," he says. His voice when he interrupts her this time is utterly steady despite the tears that dump down his cheeks as he says, "Yes, I can. Minion is dead." His gaze flicks back and forth between her eyes. "And thank you, so much, for proving it was my fault. I so needed that." He drops his hands, steps back. "I'm going to bed. There's a ham sandwich for you in the refrigerator."

Roxanne wants nothing more than to let him go so she can just sit on the sofa and cry for a while, but there's no way this will end well if she does that. She catches his elbow when he tries to brush past.

"No," she says, suddenly sharp. "Megamind, you son of a bitch. I am trying to help. Don't you dare throw this in my face."

"We're not talking about this." He tugs on his arm, trying to pull out of her grasp. "I'm not talking to you."

"We are talking about this," Roxanne tells him, "because we're adults. And I know you're not okay, but what if there's hope?" She stares at his face, trying to read his expression, but he's briefly managed to close himself off. "What if?"

Megamind looks at her for a moment, and then his features twist. He jerks away from her and takes three steps back, suddenly snarling. "You have no idea how long it took me to make myself stop trying! Do you know what—what giving up on Minion felt like? Do you?"

"No, of course I don't, but I…"

Megamind's whole body is alive with motion, like he wants to run, like he wants to leap forward and lash out, like he doesn't dare. "No!" he shouts. "No, you don't! But I had to! Or I was going to work myself to death! And now you're telling me it was the reset button that did it?"

"Megamind, will you let me finish a sentence!" Because, okay, screw being patient and understanding; that's obviously not working. And as much as she wants to be patient and understanding, Megamind is a person who does nothing halfway, who lost a piece of his mind, who forced himself to choose between figuring out how to live or continuing to try and find his friend, because he couldn't do both. He's in a dangerous mindset right now, and Roxanne is pretty sure she can get him out of it, but not if he won't listen to her. I shouldn't have said that about not giving up, she chastises herself inwardly. Shouldn't have focused on the solution when I did. "You couldn't have known there was a chance," she says, switching tacks. "This isn't your fault, you shouldn't have kept trying. You couldn't have known."

"Why not?" he asks, so coldly that she'd swear the temperature in the room just dropped. "You did."

"Because I'm not in pain!" She stares, hoping some of this will get through to him. "Losing Minion cut part of your mind off. And you—you were in shock, you weren't thinking clearly and—shut up and listen to me!" she snaps when he opens his mouth to argue again. "That's not…that's not weakness or some kind of deficiency. It's not your fault. You couldn't know, it wasn't possible."

He stares back for a second, chest heaving with fury, then grits out, "Anything is possible for me. If I just. Try harder."

"Try harder?" She can't believe her ears. "Try…try harder? Megamind, you did your best!"

Megamind's eyes flash. "And, as usual, my 'best' wasn't good enough. Clearly, I gave up too soon. I should have kept going. I would have had a breakthrough eventually."

"No!" Roxanne cries. She reaches for him but he tears himself away again, his face twisting. "Sometimes our best isn't enough! It sucks, but that's not your fault, that's life!You can make no mistakes and still lose, and that's not your fault, that's life!"

"Then I should have died," he snarls. She falters, blinking. "I should have kept trying, and if it killed me, then I should have died trying! If that's life, I don't want it!" He bares clenched teeth, nostrils flaring, the tendons in his neck standing in sharp relief. "It was Minion!"

"Megamind," Roxanne says after a stunned pause. "Can you hear yourself."

He growls and spins on one heel, then stalks towards the kitchen, heading for a glass of water. Roxanne follows him, her thoughts tangled, her heart aching, but all she can think is: he must know everything she's saying is true. He must, on some level. Or he wouldn't still be here. He knows, but he doesn't believe it. He must.

She grits her teeth, reminds herself that they're bound to each other and he can't just leave and never come back, and swallows the fear that she might send him running. Megamind's inner critic is made of tougher stuff than Roxanne realized, but Roxanne is tougher. As strong as he is, Roxanne will be stronger.

"You know it makes better sense to stop trying, wait until the time is right, and succeed." She knows she's right, and she's proud that she manages to keep her voice from shaking. "Beating yourself into exhaustion over something you can't do anything about? That's never been your style."

Megamind scoffs in the back of his throat but doesn't turn around. "My style? That's everything I've ever done! And the point is, there was hope," he adds flatly. "It was there and I missed it. I failed. I failed Minion."

"You haven't failed him yet," Roxanne begins, but Megamind interrupts again.

"You haven't failed him." He slams the cupboard open hard enough to bounce it closed again. "I did. I gave up."

"You can't impose ideology on grief," Roxanne says quietly. "That's not how it works."

"Oh no?" he asks without looking at her, his tone mocking. "If your sister was alive on the ground but you ran for home without checking to see if she was alive, and you found out later you could have saved her but you didn't, how would you feel?"

"At the time, probably like you're feeling now," Roxanne tells him evenly. Okay, that one stung, but he'll have to do a lot better than that if he wants to dissuade her. "But, later…I'd like to think that later, I'd be able to accept that I can't blame myself for the decisions I make while panicking. Panic throws off your perception of…everything. It's not something you can control. And it's not something you should blame yourself for."

He turns his head and finally looks at her, amazed and angry. "You really believe that."

"Drink some water."

"Don't tell me what to do," he mutters, but he pulls a glass down from the cupboard and fills it up at the sink anyway, downs it in one go and refills it. "I can't believe this," he remarks, his voice still flat and wounded as the tap runs. "A time-disruptor. The reset button…? No. No. The science is impossible. You're asking me to revisit something that…that I still can't forgive myself for."

"I know Minion is special, but it's okay to give up—"

"Forget Minion, I'm talking about the fucking reset button!" Megamind's voice rises to a shout, followed by ringing silence. He grips the sink with both hands, leans heavily on his elbows, waiting for the question he knows is coming.

Roxanne hesitates. "What…are you…?"

"Miss Ritchi, I called it the reset button for a reason," he says, sounding tired. "It was supposed to let me send a message. A warning. But there was a side effect. I knew it was there, it was in the math, clear as day—reset."

"Because…there's only one universe?"

"Only in a very specific sense." Megamind draws a shaky breath, shifts his weight slightly. "It would have worked. It would. The Minkowski-Hinton reconciliation device was only part of the reset button I had in mind."

Behind him, Roxanne is quiet for a moment. Then she says, "I don't understand. You…didn't build it?"

"There are multiple timelines spinning off every variable, an infinity of universes, each a little different," Megamind says dully. "The reset button would have collapsed every adjacent universe developed since that point. The Minkowski-Hinton reconciliation device doesn't work like that, thank the Higgs boson. But," he adds, sounding bitter, "I suppose it worked in the end."

"And…"

"I could have saved everyone." Megamind still sounds flat, but his knuckles are white where he's hanging onto the sink. "I could have saved everyone. My world. My family. My people and Minion's, and Metro Man's. Minion would never have died. I would never have come to this…" He trails off, then spits, "Planet. But the cost would be the destruction of every adjacent universe since, and everything—everyone—in them."

Roxanne is silent for a long few seconds. And then she sighs. "You're deflecting again."

Megamind slowly turns his head. "Excuse me?"

"You're deflecting," she says, "and I'm calling you on it. You couldn't save your planet in this timeline, and that burns you, and I'm sorry, but you built the Minkowski-Hinton piece. So, don't tell me that's why you're really upset, here. We're talking about Minion."

Megamind turns fully around. He'd sounded calm enough before, but his lips are white, his eyes are glassy and his pupils pin every time he inhales. He is livid. "Miss Ritchi," he says, "don't presume to tell me my thoughts. I am upset because the device I laid aside to avoid committing multidimensional genocide still resulted in the destruction of my best friend and only family." Every word is clipped, precise. "I am upset because I failed to perceive this fact, and I am upset because I failed to perceive that the same device could have brought him back."

"No," Roxanne says, "you're not." Megamind's eyes widen, and oh, if looks could kill, she would be dead. Possibly twice. But she continues anyway, because Megamind isn't the only one who's pissed off, and because she's right. "Those are valid observations, but they're not why you're upset. You're upset because you blame yourself for those failures. And I presume because you're ignoring that, and that's ridiculous. You are not to blame for this."

Megamind stares at her, breathing shallowly, but whether he's too angry to speak or just stunned at Roxanne's audacity, she isn't sure. She keeps going, either way. "I love your tenacity, Megamind. I really do. And I love that you never back down from impossible odds. It's your best quality. And I'm—I'm so sorry you had to choose between who you are and working yourself literally to death. You made the right choice," she insists, and Megamind bows his head a little. Roxanne takes a step forward. "But now, there is hope. Please don't turn your back on it."

His head snaps back up. "I'm not turning my back on it!" His voice goes tight with pain and he bares his teeth as he bites the words out. "I'm angry, I'm scared, I'm trying to believe you but it's not working—" He closes his mouth with a snap, his lips twisting, and smacks her hand away when she extends it towards him.

Roxanne swallows. "Please, let me touch you? I'm worried."

"I don't need you to worry about me," Megamind starts, but Roxanne cuts him off as her own ire flares before she can stop it.

"Someone has to!" For some reason, that makes him pull his head back and blink at her, makes some of the fire leave his eyes. "Lord knows, you won't worry about yourself. Listen," she adds, reeling herself in and holding up her hands in what she hopes is a placating gesture, "I'm not saying you aren't allowed to feel bad about this. You…you feel whatever you feel. I'll help you deal with that however I can. I'll…I'll be your steady brain, and I'll tell you all this for as long as it takes until you do believe it, but right now, you need to please listen, please be the guy who never gives up just one last time."

"Someone has to," Megamind repeats, and Roxanne wonders if that's all he'd heard. "Minion says that. Said that. All the time."

"Well, he's right," Roxanne says, and stares at him.

Megamind stares back, and then his expression twists again. "I don't understand you," he says, his voice like ice. "Miss Ritchi, people like you don't do things like this for people like me. You just don't."

Roxanne pulls back a little and blinks at him, then looks annoyed. "If this is another 'what do you want from me' thing, Megamind, I am going to scream." She steps forward and Megamind backs quickly away, but she just wrenches the cupboard open and pulls down a glass for herself. "Deflecting again? Really?"

"Well?" he says, daring her to argue. "You've done so much for me already in spite of our prior relationship, I've done nothing in return, and now you're even trying to give Minion back to me. I don't get it."

"We've been over this." She swats open the tap, shoves her glass under like she's got a grudge against it. "But—fine! By all means! Let's do it again. Megamind, I don't want a goddamn thing." She turns back to face him and gulps some water, but it doesn't calm her nerves the way she'd hoped it would. "Will you let it go, already?"

"You expect me to believe that?" Megamind hisses as Roxanne raises her glass again. "Don't patronize me."

And Roxanne finally loses her temper.

She chokes, slams her glass down on the counter hard enough to slosh half the remaining water over the side, and cries, "I care about you!" as soon as she's managed to swallow. Megamind jerks back, startled at her sudden change in tone.

"I don't 'expect' anything, whether you believe me or not," Roxanne continues before Megamind can find words to reply. She's gone pale under her freckles and her voice is shaking. "I am doing this because I care about you, you stupid alien! You think I'd still be trying to get through to you if I didn't care about you? No! I wouldn't be! It would be so easy for me to just give the hell up right now, but I'm not going to do that, because I care about your stupid blue ass. And I will be damned before I stand by and watch you tear yourself in half, but damn, Megamind, you could at least try to make it a little easier for me!"

Water from the counter drips onto her leg and Roxanne makes an ugly scoffing sound and turns, grabs some unknown number of paper towels off the roll so she can mop furiously at the counter, still yelling. "This is difficult! and draining! and I've had to rearrange my work schedule for the next three days so I'll have time to try and figure out how to do the one thing I can think of that might actually help you. But you," she continues, aiming a finger at him as her volume rises, "you've worked yourself into a hole! And you won't listen, and every time I make a decent point, you go running off in some other direction!

"But I'm still trying!" She throws her hands in the air even as she crouches to wipe off the water dripping down the cabinets. "And I'll keep trying! Because it kills me to see you so low!" She's almost screaming now, blinking rapidly, trying not to cry. "And if I can do anything to help with that, anything, I'll do it! What else am I supposed to do? Megamind, what else do you want me to do?"

Megamind slowly sinks onto one of the island chairs, staring at her, lips parted and eyes wide and halfway trembling again. "But," he says. "Why would you…"

"Why would I? Megamind, Jesus Christ," she shrieks as she stands back up, "why wouldn't I?" If Megamind was livid before, Roxanne is absolutely incandescent now. "You don't want things from people you care about, you want things for them. And I want for you to be happy again! I—I want for you to have—to have what you need, everything you need, I want for you to be able to heal." She stuffs the paper towels into the garbage, then rakes her hand through her hair, half-crying and desperate to make him understand. "And, just so you know? I really, really wanted to be able to just show up here, at home, with Minion for you. But I can't, Megamind, I can't! I don't know how! And for all we know, Minion is alive out there somewhere and he needs you! I know you're mad, and God, it's okay; I don't blame you for being mad; I knew you'd be mad when I started tonight, but please, just tell me you'll help!"

"I…I'll try, of course I'll try," Megamind whispers.

Roxanne stares at him for a moment, breathing hard, then takes a deep breath and seems to deflate somewhat. "Thank you." She shakes her head, scrubs a hand down her face. There are dark smudges around her eyes where she'd rubbed them earlier, her hair is a mess, and Megamind is pretty sure she's the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

"Will, will you," he begins suddenly, and then stops. He pulls his brows low over his eyes and draws himself in, and then draws himself up in a way he knows is defensive but he can't help it; he's just exploded at her, he had been very very angry and he hadn't hidden it, and how dare he ask for anything right now? But he has to ask anyway, and maybe she'll even say yes. He's not sure what his heart is doing but he thinks it might be breaking; even if she does say yes, that won't mean things are okay between them anymore.

And that's why his shoulders are squared and his spine is stiff when he says, "Roxanne, will you…help me? Pick up the pieces? Because this…this isn't…I'm not…" He swallows hard and tries to explain, hoping it will help somehow. "I'm…I can do anything. Anything I put my mind to. My whole life, that's all I ever…I lived by that.

"But this, losing Minion, I couldn't. But now you're saying I could have, and I…just…" He trails off. This isn't helping. Roxanne is just looking at him. Megamind has gotten pretty good at reading her over the past few months, better than he ever was before. Now that he's calmer, he can easily see that Roxanne is tired and upset and really not in the mood to be understanding right now.

But then she sighs. Swallows. Seems to push her anger aside. "Megamind," she says in a controlled sort of voice, "no one is saying you could have done more." She approaches him slowly, even more slowly takes his face in her hands and touches her forehead to his, the way she had before this whole horrible discussion even started. "I know that's what you're hearing, but—but it's not what I'm saying. You did everything you could." She nods a little against his skin, nuzzles from side to side across the wide front of his skull, and okay maybe Megamind is not as good at reading Roxanne as he thought. This is not how someone who's tired and upset is supposed to respond. "And yes, of course, I'll help. Like I said, I do care about you, and I'm still fucking trying. You know that."

"I…I suppose I do," he admits, his eyes downcast. Maybe that's why she's not reacting right. Reactions change when you aren't acting in your own self-interest. "But. I'm a difficult man to care for." He pulls his mouth into a half-smile, adds softly, "Minion could tell you."

Roxanne pulls back after a few moments and watches him fidget with the hem of his shirt, then risks a little smile of her own. "I noticed that," she agrees lightly. "But I can be a pain in the butt, too, so don't worry about it." She pulls out a chair of her own and sits down beside him, suddenly tired. "Look, we'll get through this, okay? I'm sorry for hiding it from you and I know you're all freaked out, but…one way or another, I'm with you."

His eyebrows twitch together. "I don't deserve it."

Roxanne just sighs again and pinches the bridge of her nose.

Megamind gulps a little. "Roxanne," he says. "Give me your hands?" She sends him a look, but holds them out anyway. He takes them, frowning down at gray leather and pink skin.

Then he looks up at her and takes a deep breath through his nose, tries to find words to fit the feeling tangling in his heart and stomach. It's hard. He's spent so long not saying anything, and even in spite of their link, the words elude him. He forces words out in spite of this, hoping they're the right ones, because he owes her this much. He owes her much more than this.

So, what he says, for the first time, is, "Please. Understand. I have always been alone. My life…" He struggles for a moment, searching again for words. It's made even harder by the fact that he doesn't talk about this. Has, in fact, spent most of his time trying not to even think about this. "In my life, I never believed…there would be anyone but Minion. I never thought I could…have…any of what you're offering. I don't…" The words escape again. Crap.

Roxanne shakes her head. "What? Support? A home? People who care for you?"

Megamind presses his lips together. "When I was a child. Yes. But I burned those bridges a long time ago; I can't go back, and I thought…no one but Minion would ever. So. All these things, I didn't…I didn't understand. I dared to get comfortable here." He scowls. "I felt…when I didn't think about it, I felt like I could stay. But when I did think, I…I knew I couldn't possibly, because…well. It couldn't be permanent, but you acted like it was, so I was…confused? Angry," he admits. "When you talked about me having a room, finding a new place to live, where I could be alive too.

"And now. This. With Minion. I'm scared. I'll need help. If…if this doesn't work…" He looks up at her, trailing off, then gulps and shuts his eyes again. "This is me. Asking. Please. I don't know what I'm afraid of, but I'm…I…"

"Megamind, it's okay."

He shakes his head, tries a different way. "You care. You do. I don't know why—I don't understand—what makes you different. But you should know…I should tell you." He rolls his shoulders back and straightens his spine again. "If this…thing with Minion does work, I will owe you for the rest of my life. Or your life. Whichever ends first."

"Stop," Roxanne says, wide-eyed in spite of herself, "Megamind, don't."

"If it doesn't work, then…" He manages a short laugh. "Then I will be a mess. And I'm asking you, please. Please keep trying then, too. I'm…difficult, and draining, I know, and I'm…sorry."

"That wasn't what I—"

But he pushes forward like he hasn't heard. If he doesn't say this now, he's not sure he'll ever be able to. "I am a fickle, selfish creature, but…I do care for you as well, in…in my way. So, I am with you, too," he says firmly. "I will be here, any way you'll have me, for as long as you want me. Whether we get Minion back or not."

Roxanne is staring at him, but Megamind looks back down at their hands; he can't hold her gaze after that, can't even meet her eye. He shouldn't have said that. It had come out sounding much heavier than he'd thought it would, much closer to the truth.

The silence stretches, yawns wide between them. That, Roxanne thinks, sounded an awful lot like 'I love you.' And she thinks she probably missed the opportunity to tell him the same thing, earlier, but she's not sure if she should tell him now, because part of her still shies from the idea of adding that to the pile of crap he's trying to wrap his head around.

"Well?" Megamind asks at last, sounding lost. "What…what are you thinking?"

Roxanne jumps a little. "Um," she says. "A lot of things. I'm…thinking you're neither fickle nor selfish." She shifts in her seat. "I'm thinking you may be difficult at times, but you're worth figuring out. And I'm thinking…of course I'll keep trying if this doesn't work, Megamind, for—for the same reason that I'm…not sure how to respond to the rest of it without kissing you.

"And," she continues, flushing, as Megamind's gaze flicks back to her again and his eyes go saucer-huge at her desperate bid for total honesty, "I'm hoping you'll kiss me, first, because it sort of sounds like you might want to. And then I wouldn't have to figure out whether I should kiss you or not." She glances at their joined hands, then up at Megamind's stunned expression. He looks frozen. "I mean…I want to, but I'm pretty sure that would be really inappropriate of me."

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Megamind gapes at her for a second longer, then closes his mouth with a snap and blinks a few times. "In-inappropriate," he stammers, tilting his head jerkily to the side as his hands clench in hers, "inappropriate?"

"Well, it's not fair of me to be having…feelings for you when you're so out of it," Roxanne says, even though mostly right now she's feeling like this is dangerously close to rambling, "I mean, you're…you just got done saying how you're…broken, and…" She sighs, grimaces a little, and tries to rein herself in. She'd like to gain some composure, but Megamind's mouth fell right back open at 'feelings'; he looks like he might be about to throw up. Which really wasn't the response Roxanne had been hoping for. "I'm…I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have said that about kissing. I…should have left you alone, one thing at a time."

"Sorry," Megamind repeats, finding his voice again. "You…I, I don't…"

"Look, you asked what I was thinking, and I told you." Roxanne is red all the way to her ears, biting the inside of her cheek, and she's getting increasingly nervous but he sounds like he's seeking clarification…so she obliges. "If you want to kiss me—if that's what you were getting at, if you care for me romantically and you want to…to, I don't know, but if that's what you mean? I'm fine with that." She pauses, because Megamind has gone back to staring at her as his eyebrows pull further and further up his forehead. "Th-then again," she says quickly, her confidence slipping somewhat at his continuing lackluster response, "I realize there's a lot on your plate, and like I said, I do feel bad about saying all this just now, so if you don't want to…I…" Lord, can I stop talking? she wonders vaguely. I'm only digging a deeper hole! "That's totally fine, too. I just…meant…" She rakes in a deep breath and says, "I think you're amazing.

"I think you're absolutely incredible. And beautiful. I've thought that for—a long time, actually, I just—never had the chance to let it—materialize? For me? Before?" She shakes her head. "I think your mind is the greatest thing in the world, whether or not it works the way you're used to. And I think you're—fun to talk to, and you're kind, and considerate, and," she half-smiles at the recollection, "you don't look at me like I'm a thing. You don't treat me like some helpless maid in need of a daring rescue; you never have. And when you get up to make yourself a grilled cheese in the middle of the night, you make one for me, too. And I care about you a lot, Megamind, and sometimes I want to kiss you.

"You don't have to do anything about it, but I wanted you to know. That's all I meant." Ears burning, she tries to pull her hands back, but Megamind's loose grip suddenly locks.

There's a lot of strength in those spindly fingers. A gentle tug doesn't get her anywhere. She pauses, blinking at him, trying not to look hopeful; she doesn't want to pressure him into anything, especially not with him still thinking he owes her.

But…maybe?

Megamind swallows hard, offers her a shaky smile, wild. "I-I've never," he says. "How? Do I…?" He looks like he doesn't know what to do with his face; his small frown is as twitchy as his previous smile had been. "How do you want…?"

Oh, thank god, Roxanne thinks, but what she says is, "I want you however you'll be." And wow, that sounded way less cornball in her head, but oh, well. "You must have thought of this before," she adds gently, deciding to risk a teasing little grin. "I know you must have. Go for it."

Megamind flushes pink all over his handsome face, but nods. "I—yes," he says. "Okay. C-close your eyes, don't…don't look at me."

That's an unexpected request, but sure, okay. Roxanne complies. She's not sure what she's expecting, or even if she has enough brainpower right now to expect anything in particular; her blood is too loud in her ears for her to really think straight.

But what she's absolutely not expecting is for him to press dry lips against the corner of her mouth. And she's not expecting to feel them high on her neck, soft under her ear, after a brief pause. She's not expecting him to brush the side of his nose against her temple as he slowly moves to kiss her forehead, and she's not expecting him to smell like leather and soap even though the only leather he's worn in a year is the gloves she'd bought for him.

If she were going to expect anything, it would have been for him to be more direct than this, to move right in and plant one on her. Instead, he gives her these snowflake kisses, almost painfully gentle. He touches her face with only the tips of his fingers, roving over her lips, her cheeks, her fluttering eyelids and lashes, her eyebrows; smooths the sweep of her mussed-up bangs with the backs of his knuckles. Follows his fingers' shivering paths with his mouth.

Roxanne sits like a stone, struck dumb, until Megamind leans forward and rests the side of his head against hers, cheek-to-cheek for a moment before he finally bends his neck to rest the swell of his forehead in the curve of her shoulder.

One long, thin hand twists into the hem of her shirt. The other spans her throat, pressing very lightly, and Roxanne realizes after a moment that he's grounding himself in her heartbeat.

This is not what she expected at all. This is not something she's ever experienced before, this…his hands and mouth on her face and neck like she's something delicate; and Megamind knows she isn't. Roxanne knows he knows that. He knows she isn't fragile and he handles her as though she is, anyway. There's nothing condescending in the way he moves, only a kind of terrible praise, a kind of longing, and Roxanne has never felt more at home than she does now, with her heart aching because her interstellar orphan of a roommate is painting how beautiful he finds her on her skin.

She can't stand it anymore; the stone in her throat is too heavy and her heart hurts too much. She sits forward a little and opens her eyes, then catches Megamind's hands away from her neck and shirt. Startled, he jerks violently back and freezes, looking like a deer in the headlights.

But Roxanne smiles at him and presses her lips to the pads of his thin fingers, and he relaxes—just a little, enough to risk a small smile in return—and Roxanne moves in close and tilts her head, tangles one of her hands in one of his, netting them together. His fingers are long enough to reach halfway down the back of her hand when she fits the heel of her palm into the curve of his, and they tighten when she finally brings their mouths close together, guiding him with her other hand on his sharp chin. And then she waits, still smiling, her eyes sliding half-closed again.

Well, if she's waiting for him to close the gap, he'll oblige her. He cups the side of her neck with his free hand, his fingers in her short hair and his thumb under the curve of her jaw, tipping her face to his as he kisses her. At first, he's not sure what she's looking for, but then her hands are on his shoulder and the back of his head, drawing him in with a sharp inhale as she opens her mouth, and this.

Megamind's hazy brain grinds to a screeching halt. This. Yes. Holy God.

He takes Roxanne's face in both hands and does his best to follow what her lips are doing. He doesn't pull her close—he doesn't dare keep her against him—but he does hold her, as softly as he can so she'll know she can back off when she changes her mind.

But she doesn't change her mind. At least, she doesn't seem to. Megamind's heart is thundering in his ears as Roxanne tugs him to stand up and then twines her arms around his neck; she keeps him there, she pulls him close. She's soft in his hands and he's safe in her arms and Megamind's stomach is slowly untying the knots it had bound itself up in when they were shouting at each other. She pulls back once, then kisses his mouth again, more gently than the first time. He hesitates, but she does it again; Aha, he thinks, relaxing again, another kind of kiss. These kisses start open and pull closed, as opposed to the first kiss, which had started closed and then opened. And there are more of them. He's not sure which kind he prefers; clearly this calls for more practice. The thought that he might actually have the chance to practice this makes his knees weak.

He doesn't realize he's made a noise until he feels her grin into his mouth, and that's when he finally breaks away, embarrassed, his lips tingling and his mind in a whirl, but all he can do is lean his head against hers and murmur, "You know of course that I love you."

It takes Roxanne a moment to respond, during which time Megamind nearly has two heart attacks because Oh oh oh no what did I just say did I just say that oh no, but when she does, her voice sounds unexpectedly thick.

"I know," she agrees. "I…and I love you, too, I realized a few nights ago. I wasn't going to tell you so soon, but…well, anyway."

Something electric shivers down Megamind's spine. No, he thinks, but also yes. "—not serious," he whispers, and that makes Roxanne's arms go tight around him, makes her turn and bend her head to put her mouth to his ear.

"I have never been more serious in my life," she tells him in a quiet voice that makes his lips part and his eyebrows pull together. "Try to trust me. I will not lie to you."

His chest hollows once and a muscle pulses in his cheek when he clenches his teeth, blinking. At least one of them is good at talking. "I," he says unsteadily, "am going to kiss you again."

"Not if I kiss you first," she replies, and Megamind doesn't have much time to process that before her lips are on his again, moving slowly, and his mind goes blank again, except for—

His hands on her hips and she's warm under his palms; her arms twine around his shoulders in a kind of languid embrace, one elbow crooked so she can stroke light fingertips over the top of his head. Her lips are warm, too, and soft, and she's smiling again, and Megamind does not want to think about anything right now and possibly not ever again. He's been enjoying his new freedom over the past couple days, enjoying Roxanne's poorly-hidden surprise at how willing he is to reach out now that he knows he's allowed, and enjoying how willing she is to lean into him, but this is not something he'd ever dreamed he'd be allowed to do. To kiss her while she smiles. To tell her he loves her.

"Hah," he breathes as they separate, brushing nervous thumbs up and down on her sides and marveling at this expanded capacity for touch, "I—never thought you'd—I never—"

Roxanne's mouth tightens at the corners. "I know," she says quietly. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't," he says, shaking his head hard, "don't ever, don't, please." Then he swallows, tilts his head jerkily to one side. "Is that why I can touch you?"

"No, that's why you can kiss me," Roxanne says, with half a smile. "For the rest of it, you're the same as anyone else."

Megamind nods, looking stunned, and returns the other half of her smile without realizing it. Then he shifts his weight and glances to the side and back again, totally lost and not bothering to hide it. There's…not much he actually wants to hide, anymore; that's a new feeling. He's only ever been all of himself with Minion. Sometimes not even then. But this feels safe, this feels okay. This is allowed.

"What happens now? Do we go to the Lair?" He raises his eyebrows and tries to remember himself, swallows. He also tries to regain some poise, but he can't quite keep his breathlessly joyful disbelief at bay when he asks, "Do we kiss again? What…what's the plan?"

Roxanne chuckles. "Well, we went a little off-script there," she says, and Megamind lets out an answering laugh that sounds like a bark, "but, um…"

She hesitates, biting her lip, trying to figure out how to explain what she and Metro Man worked out on the flight home—but there's a sharp knock on her balcony door before she can say anything.

Megamind jumps and then jerks away from her like he's been stung; he goes from pliant happiness and gentle smiles to scowling, squared-off defense in record time, spitting, "How long has he been out there?" with his fists at his sides and absolutely none of the warmth he'd been all but oozing barely half a second prior. After all, there's only one person that can be, and the hero's timing is too perfect for him not to have been eavesdropping.

At least Roxanne looks equally startled. 'Script' must have been a figure of speech. "I don't know, I didn't even know he'd be coming over tonight," she says, and she doesn't raise her voice when she adds, "It's unlocked, come on in."

Wayne shoves the curtains aside a moment later and flits inside, closing the door carefully behind him. "You guys," he says as he turns around and faces them, arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head with a fond, if awkward, grin. "You guys are something else, I tell you what."

Megamind glares at him and says nothing, but Roxanne puts her fists on her hips. "Were you listening this whole time?" she demands. "We talked about this."

He at least has the grace to look abashed. "I know, I know I said I wouldn't, but…then he started yelling and I wasn't sure if…I mean, I know he looks like he's made of noodles and string, but Roxie, seriously, he's basically titanium and if…I mean, I dunno if…" He trails off at Roxanne's glare. "Sorry. Yeah, he wouldn't, I know. I, uh…hey, little buddy!" he says, turning to Megamind with something that's trying to be a smile. "Uh. Long time, no see! How's…how're you doing?"

"Fine," Megamind says flatly, arms over his thin chest. "I'm fine. And if I'm noodles," he adds, scowling bleakly, "then you are made of…protein shakes and…and spam."

"Cowardly spam," Roxanne clarifies. "Only showing up after I had to have the hard conversation."

Metro Man twiddles his thumbs, looking nervous. "Yeah, that's—fair. But considering how he reacted to you, I think I was right about him not being receptive if I was here."

Megamind grits his teeth and starts to turn away, intending to get another glass of water so his mouth will be busy and he'll be less likely to start shouting profanities at having been interrupted mid-cuddle. But then, to his surprise, he finds himself hauled into the air and caught in a bone-creaking hug. That's new.

Once upon a time, he would have struggled—would have kicked and scratched and bitten anything he could get his teeth into, probably while shrieking—but now, still halfway in cuddle-mode, he just goes stiff and startled. Metro Man is hugging him. Metro Man is hugging him? Metro Man. Is hugging him. And all he can think of is Roxanne saying if she's comfortable with someone, why shouldn't she touch them, and hugging is a gesture of support, a sign of affection, and…

And Metro Man looks at him as he sets him back down on the ground, stares straight into Megamind's eyes as he says, "The plan is, we're gonna fix this. I'll help. We start tomorrow, early. Anything you need, man, I got you."

Megamind blinks at him, too shocked to argue or respond with anything but more staring even in spite of his affront over the noodles comment. Tonight, it seems, is a night of revelations.

Metro Man pats him awkwardly on the shoulder and steps back, adjusts his belt a little. "Anyway, uh. I just wanted to pass that along. You wanted to know what the plan was, and…the plan is, we're gonna fix it! Starting tomorrow, at…Roxie and I figured eight in the morning. How's that sound?"

Megamind nods wordlessly, so Roxanne steps in. "Earlier, Megs here said something about transtemporal synchrony. You know what that is?"

Metro Man tilts his head. "Maybe. Isn't that the thing where, like, turn signals at a traffic light fall in and out of sync with each other in cycles? Except, you know…with points in time-space instead of space-space?"

Megamind frowns and clears his throat, does his best to focus. "That's…that's just totally wrong."

"Yeah, but basically that's what it is, in layman's terms. Right?"

Megamind shrugs. "I suppose the analogy could aid comprehension," he admits grudgingly. "It's still wrong."

Metro Man grins. "Thought so," he says. "Okay, kids, I'm going to bed. Gotta get a good night's sleep! Big day tomorrow! I'll pick you up at eight!"

"Kids?" Roxanne calls after him as he flies for the door, but he just turns and salutes on his way out. "What a weirdo," she remarks to Megamind, who rolls his eyes and nods again.

Then his gaze falls away. Roxanne watches him, suddenly uncertain, as he starts fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

He still doesn't speak; after a moment, she asks him, "You okay? What are you thinking?"

He glances at her. "I'm thinking I don't want to go to bed," he says quietly. "This is. It's too much."

Roxanne bites her lip. She knows what he means. "What if I came with you?" she asks, because in for a penny, in for a pound, really. "Just for sleeping?" Maybe she's a masochist when it comes to her heart, but after all this, she really does want some serious cuddle time. She only hopes Megamind feels the same way, but she suspects he probably does, if the way he held her earlier was any indication.

Megamind blinks once, then arches an eyebrow at her and smirks with a shadow of his old poise. "You don't think it's too soon?" he asks. "Next thing you know, we'll be living together."

Roxanne peers at him. "Are you making a joke?" she asks, then sees the tiny tug of lips that means he's laughing at her and trying not to let her see. "You butthead," she says fondly. "You can say no, though. I don't want to push."

"I did tell you I might never stop being physically affectionate at you," Megamind reminds her as he looks down at his feet, still trying to hide his little smile, but his eyes when he glances back up are warm, and crinkly at the corners. "So, yes," he says softly, "yes, I think…I would welcome the company."

Roxanne was anticipating having to be the little spoon because of their differences in proportion, but it turns out Megamind sleeps on his back—he folds a pillow lengthways to support his neck against the curve of his enormous skull, and sleeps with his long throat exposed, and Roxanne thinks she might have realized her feelings for him a lot sooner if she'd known the old villain trusted her enough to sleep like this in her home.

He scoots far to the edge of the narrow bed at first, offering her space, but Roxanne tugs him back into the middle and then ducks under his arm and rests her head on his chest. "You're my pillow with bones in it," she tells him, and feels more than hears him laugh. Then she adds, "I should've told you about Minion sooner. I really am sorry."

"I know." He pauses, then slips his bare fingers next to her scalp, gently combing outwards. "So am I. For-forgive me? I was…stupid." He brings his other arm, the one she's lying on, up around her back to curl his fingers over her hip. After a moment, he decides to try rubbing his thumb gently back and forth.

"We'll work it out tomorrow," Roxanne promises with a yawn, shifting a little and snuggling closer at his touch. Success! "But you don't have to apologize for anything. You were totally justified."

"Not really," Megamind says, with a frown in his voice. "I don't think so. And I am apologizing."

Roxanne smiles. "Then sure, I forgive you."

Megamind puffs out a sigh and does his best to force himself to relax. "Thank you. Is this okay?"

"Is what okay?"

It must be, with an answer like that, but he still says, "Me. Holding you. My hand in your hair."

Roxanne hums. "This is just fine. If you're okay with me lying on your gills…?"

"I am. Yes."

"Then we're good."

Megamind is quiet after that, and the silence is only broken by the normal city noises outside the windows and balcony doors—sirens, cars honking, the hiss of traffic. Far away, a train. After a while, his low voice vibrates under Roxanne's ear, "Are you awake?" and she makes another humming noise, this one inquisitive. "I don't know what's going to happen to me," Megamind says quietly. "If this doesn't work. I'm not sure I'll be able to pull myself away again. I had to leave the Lair to sleep. Every minute I wasn't trying to get Minion back…it was wasted. Eating, sleeping. I had to leave."

Roxanne squeezes him. "I know you did," she whispers. "It's okay."

"I'm not trying to convince you," he tells her, "I'm trying to warn you. It might be worse this time. Now I know there was a way, and I missed it…" He trails off. "If this doesn't work, I won't know how to stop wondering if there's something else I overlooked. And.

"And I'm not sure how I'll believe you when you tell me there's nothing else." He wraps the hand that isn't on her waist around her wrist, missing the warmth of her hair but needing to hang onto something a little more solid. He presses his middle and ring fingers against her pulse, which is reassuringly slow—he takes it to mean she's comfortable at his side, rather than agitated. It's probably safe to say, "Last time, it nearly killed me. These bonds, they aren't…I don't think they're meant to break."

He feels Roxanne frown against his chest, but her pulse holds steady. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Megamind gives a short laugh. "I don't cross bridges. I burn them."

"They can be rebuilt." Roxanne hugs him tighter. She feels his grip tighten on her wrist, but she's not sure if that's because he's feeling protective, possessive, or scared. "We'll tackle it together. I'll help."

"I know." He's quiet again for a while, and then he says, "Tell me again, you love me?"

Roxanne smiles and lifts herself to her elbow, pulls her hand out of his grasp so she can press it flat against the plane of his cheek. It's a shame the lights are off, but his lips are soft when she leans down to kiss him, and she can feel his lashes flutter when she brushes her thumb across the thin skin under his eye, can feel his throat working when she strokes the tips of her fingers down to rest on his shoulder, can feel his breath shuddering when he opens his mouth under hers, and that's enough. "I love you," she says quietly, when she breaks away. "I, Roxanne, love you, Megamind. You, and your big head and your blue skin and your gills and your webbed feet and your two pairs of eyelids and your big heart." She pauses, and a cautious note enters her voice as she continues, "I also love you even if you go back to being a supervillain when we get Minion home."

Megamind hisses and threads the hand that isn't on her waist back into her hair so he can pull her forehead to his. Because that, that means a lot. "I'm not," he says thickly. "I'll—find something else. I can't risk this happening again, I can't. But thank you. I. Love you, too."

Roxanne smiles, kisses him once more, quickly, and then scoots down to get comfortable again. "I still wish I had better timing on that one," she admits after a while. "Sorry."

Incredibly, Megamind laughs. "Better timing," he repeats, incredulous. "No. Waiting for the right time is for suckers."

"You big liar, you're all about timing and stage presence," Roxanne says, but Megamind flaps an imperious hand, brushes her comment away.

"Oh, that, that's professionalism, never mind that," he scoffs. He moves his head to look down at her. "I'm talking about life. You roll with what life gives you and play the hand you're dealt. Worrying too much about timing just leads to…missed opportunities." He pauses, swallows, adjusts his placement on the pillow and stares up at the ceiling. "Don't be sorry for…for loving me. And don't wish you'd waited. Please."

It's the please that hurts Roxanne the most, it has this whole time; every time Megamind says please it's a reminder of everything that's changed. He never said 'please' before, that she knows of. Supervillains don't. "I'm not," she says. "I'm not sorry for loving you. I'm just sorry for dropping this on you at the same time as everything else."

But Megamind shakes his head. "All my life," he says. "All my life. I never."

She smiles. "Okay. Then I'm not sorry at all. I'm entirely unapologetic," she says staunchly, rubbing a reassuring hand up and down his chest. Megamind huffs a shivery sort of laugh and squeezes her. "I love you, and we're here together, sharing a blanket, and I tell you what, Brainmate, nobody's ever kissed me like you did, not once. And that was the best first kiss ever, and I regret absolutely nothing."

"Good," he whispers. "Good."

"And now," she continues, "I'm going to sleep, and you should, too. I'll be here when you wake up." And with that, she curls one arm between her chest and his, wraps the other across and around his little body, and bumps her ear around until she finds a comfortable spot under the end of his sharp collarbone. She has to wonder, in a vague, sleepy way, if it's normal for his ribs to be so defined—she'd noticed before, when he was showing her his gills, how he's filled out a bit since she found him alone in the rain, but he's still awfully thin.

Ah well. She has time to find out. She yawns and hums happily, warm in the arms of an alien. "Of all the lives in all th' cities 'n all the worlds," she mumbles, "'m glad you crash-landed in mine."

Megamind is quiet again the next morning. Roxanne wakes to an empty bed, and when she gets up, he's sitting at the kitchen island, fully dressed for the day and staring into a mug of coffee like he's trying to read the future in the swirling surface. The pot is already half-empty—did he drink the other half?

"Hey," she says, unaccountably nervous. "You doing okay?"

Megamind nods but doesn't look up.

"Okay, um…I'm going to go get ready. Wayne will be here soon, he'll give us a ride over. Sound good?" All she gets is another nod. Roxanne can't really blame him for being tongue-tied, under the circumstances, but still…it's not like him to be totally nonverbal this way anymore. Slowly, she slips into the chair next to his.

"Hey," she says again, more quietly this time. "What's on your mind, Brainmate?"

It takes him a minute to reply, and when he does, it's in almost a whisper. "It's. Easier when it's dark."

"Easier?"

"To believe you," he says, long fingers tightening around his mug. "I…I'm not…this. So how can you…" He bites his lip, finally frowning, but he can't quite look over at her yet. "I need Minion back. I need him. My brain doesn't work right without him. I can't…process things. The way I want to. I can barely string two words together, and you…" He swallows, squinting at nothing like he can't understand what he's looking at, and then suddenly he looks over at Roxanne, shaking his head. "You lie down with me, you…your head on my heart, my hands in your hair, but…if this works, if Minion comes back, if I can be all of me, us, him and me, again…" His forehead creases and he breaks off abruptly, visibly frustrated. "Ugh, listen to me," he scoffs. "Useless. I don't have words."

And this, right here, this is why Roxanne had originally wanted to wait to make any kind of romantic overture. "The words you do have are beautiful," she says, meaning it. Your head on my heart, my hands in your hair. "I want Minion back, too, and I'm not going anywhere soon. I meant what I said last night. I want you with me however you'll be."

Megamind's shoulders pull up and he jerks his head back somewhat, wrinkling his whole face in defensive confusion. "You don't even like the me I used to be," he protests, but Roxanne isn't about to let that train of thought leave the station.

"Minion changes how you think," she says flatly. "Not who you are."

"How I think is part of who I am," he points out. "How I think. I'm Megamind. It's what shapes me."

Roxanne shakes her head at him, but she can't help smiling a little. "What you think is what shapes you. How you think just…facilitates it." She sighs. "Your ability to think the way you're used to might be a little fractured right now, but you're still the same Megamind you've always been. Just…" She casts about for a good word, but all she can think of is, "sadder."

Megamind huffs a reluctant laugh. "Maybe."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, anyway," she tells him.

Thank you. I think."

Roxanne smiles at him and stands. "Shower time for me, now," she says lightly, and, on impulse, leans over to press a kiss to the side of his cranium as she scoots past so she can head to the bathroom. She completely misses the badly startled look on Megamind's face, as well as the totally flabbergasted way he stares after her.

She's in and out of the shower in five minutes—it's more to tame her hair than anything else—and dresses quickly in a pair of black leggings and a soft blue scoop-necked tunic with a wide belt, then clips Megamind's bracelet onto her wrist. She isn't going to bother with makeup; she still has enough eyeliner on from yesterday even in spite of her shower, and she'll leave it at that. Good enough.

Her initial choice of shoes is a pair of simple sandals with decent arch support, but Megamind points at them as soon as she steps out of the bedroom. "No," he says. "Closed-toed shoes in the Lair."

Good morning to you too, sunshine, Roxanne thinks, but she doesn't argue—she remembers his first night at her apartment and how he'd shied from the hard floor in his stocking feet. This must be a pretty hard-and-fast rule, so she swaps out the sandals for a pair of plain black flats. They're comfortable enough as long as she doesn't have to stand still for too long. "How are these?"

Megamind gives them a bland once-over. "Those are fine," he says, and then his mouth tugs into a half-smile as he appears to notice the rest of her outfit. His eyes linger on her bracelet. "You look nice," he adds, and he only sounds a little bit shy.

Roxanne grins. "You, too. That's my sweater."

Megamind glances down and plucks at the navy knit. "I like it," he admits. Now that he's not staring into his coffee, Roxanne can see the deep shadows under his eyes; clearly, he didn't sleep much last night. "I don't usually go for baggy clothes, but…"

"It suits you," Roxanne tells him, and it's true. She's not sure how he manages to pull off the loose shirt over those tight jeans—it's a more traditionally feminine combination—but it really does look good on his narrow frame. Very fashion plate. "You're not going to be too warm?"

He shakes his head. "You may want to grab a jacket," he says. "The Lair will be colder this early in the morning."

Right. Cold and damp. Roxanne pulls her denim jacket from the closet and slips it on, then slings her purse onto her shoulder. "Ready?" she says, and Megamind takes a deep breath and pushes his now-empty mug away, nodding as he stands up. "Good." She dials Wayne.

He lands on the balcony while the phone is still ringing, and doesn't even hesitate to open the door and poke his head inside. "You two ready to go?" he asks, then blinks a little at the stars on Megamind's sweater. He tilts his head, quirking a questioning grin and holding the door open for Roxanne as she steps out into the wind. "Since when do you two share a wardrobe?"

Roxanne rolls her eyes at him. "Oh, hush, it looks better on him anyway. Let's go. Up!"

Shaking his head, Metro Man drops to one knee and holds a massive arm in front of him like a bar. Megamind hesitates, unsure of what the position means. But Roxanne clearly has no such uncertainties—she simply steps from Metro Man's knee to his arm like he's a humanoid stepladder, then turns and sits on his massive shoulder, just as neat as you please. She looks as if she's done this a hundred times.

Metro Man shifts, bringing his arm up so Roxanne can hold onto his wrist for balance—and she's already reaching for it; she's definitely done this a time or two—then switches knees and holds his other arm out to Megamind as Roxanne takes off her shoes and stows them in her purse. "C'mon, you're on my left," he says, and Megamind recoils instinctively. Metro Man huffs and shrugs a little, making Roxanne yip and grab his wrist with both hands. "I could do you like a sack of potatoes, for old times' sake, if you'd rather," he says.

Megamind cocks an eyebrow. "Pass," he replies, putting as much ice into his tone as he can. He hops up quickly, trying to act normal and not think about how odd this is.

Shaking his head, Metro Man lifts off.

He stays mostly vertical for the flight, which…Megamind isn't quite sure what to make of that. He's sure Metro Man would ordinarily level out after a while; that's how he always flew when he was hauling Megamind around by the collar. That's how he always flies, period. But he stays upright this morning, one knee crooked as he heads skyward, keeping both arms up like the elbows of a football goalpost so his passengers have something to hold onto.

Megamind is less than pleased about having to hold Metro Man's wrist for any reason, but after a glance at Roxanne, he decides he'll take it. It's preferable to holding onto his thumb, the way she's doing.

Besides, it's only about a ten minute flight at speed: five minutes up and five minutes down. Then they're landing outside the Lair and Roxanne and Megamind are clambering down to the ground as Metro Man drops into a crouch. Once they're safely on solid ground, he straightens, grimacing and rolling the shoulder Megamind was sitting on. "Man, you're bony," he complains. "At least Roxie's got some padding."

"You love it," Roxanne agrees, grinning.

"It's sure more comfortable for me," Metro Man says. Megamind sends him a sideways glare—he doesn't sound like he's flirting, and Megamind recognizes Roxanne's tone as the one she always uses towards Metro City's golden child. She seems okay with Metro Man commenting about her butt, so it's probably not Megamind's place to be annoyed.

Fine. That's fine. He has bigger fish to fry, anyway. He dusts himself off and looks up at the Lair, his eyebrows lowering as he switches gears. He'd left this place standing empty while he was reeling from lack of sleep and hallucinating. He's feeling better now, but there's no guarantee it won't happen again.

"If I'm awake for another twenty-four hours," he says absently to Metro Man, still gazing at the graffiti-covered walls, "You're under orders to bludgeon me into unconsciousness."

"Uh…s-sure thing," Metro Man replies, after a startled pause.

Megamind sighs and squares his shoulders. "Okay," he mutters. "Let's do this."

Chapter Text

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Megamind leads the way into his silent Lair without looking around, his mouth a thin line, his jaw set. He gives his big drawing board a wide berth. A half-finished platform with a scorch mark on the ceiling above it makes him pause, but he doesn't look over at it. For the most part, he keeps his eyes on the floor and moves with as much purpose as he can muster towards the doorway at the far corner of the room.

The other two follow him through the dim hallways, which are lit in the morning by sparse shafts of sunlight that find their way in through the multitudes of tiny windows Megamind has set into the ceilings. They both know where they're going, but they let Megamind lead by unspoken agreement—this was his home, after all, not theirs. Metro Man, drifting along in the rear with his toes barely touching the floor, kicks up dust in a V-shaped wake behind him rather than leaving more footprints. The motes lift and dance in the sun as he passes.

Megamind eventually turns into the room Roxanne and Wayne had found before, stepping over the twisted door. "Here I am, and there it is," he says, jerking his head at the tripod-mounted gun. It's as he remembers it: unfinished, its mechanisms and circuitry exposed. He can't stand to look at it for long. "What do you need?"

"Okay," Metro Man says. "Can you get this thing hooked up to a bigger generator? It's gonna need a lot of power. The power supply you've got on it won't be nearly enough. I was hitting it with my laser vision at almost full blast before the res—um, the reconciliation device kicked in."

Megamind nods once, quickly, and presses his palms against his legs to stop clenching and unclenching his hands. "I can. I…" He pauses, frowning. "Your lasers? How did you manage that?"

Metro Man picks up the headset Roxanne modified the day before and passes it to him. Megamind turns it over a few times, peering at the additional wiring, the new couplings, the adapter. He studies how it's grounded for almost five whole seconds before aiming a questioning glance up at Metro Man, who coughs awkwardly and nods at Roxanne.

Megamind looks over at her. "You adjusted this? To work with the disruptor?"

"Yep," Roxanne says, looking pleased with herself. "It worked pretty well, I think! You have a lot of power cords, it wasn't hard to find the right ones."

Ah. Megamind's stomach clenches. "How long did it take you?" he asks. "Where did you learn how to do it?"

"I called a friend who does electric stuff at construction sites and he filled in the bits Google didn't," she replies with a little shrug. "It didn't take long—an hour, maybe. Is something wrong?"

These bonds aren't meant to break. A muscle pulses in Megamind's jaw for a moment, but he finally shakes his head. "…No. Nothing's wrong. Well done, I'm…impressed." He looks at Metro Man again and asks, "What else?" before Roxanne can push him for more answers, but the hero pauses. Megamind's expression sours. He's not interested in uncertainty. He doesn't have time for uncertainty. "You two said you'd need my brain to build whatever it was you needed. I can do that, but I'm going to have a tough time thinking of what you do need—"

Metro Man interrupts with, "A harness." So, he had known what was needed. Why would a harness make him hesitate? "And a rope that'll reach through several cascading Einstein-Rosen bridges while being tethered on one 'end' to the harness and the other 'end' to something in the here-and-now—preferably a winch or a really big reel or something."

Fine, sure, Megamind can handle that well enough. A harness, a reel: those things are easy. He has those on hand. The rope…now, that might take some finagling. But overall, these things don't sound like a tall order. It's not so much.

If he can see where to start, that is.

He grits his teeth for a moment against the poisonous question, but where to start has been his biggest problem for more than a year. "What do you need first."

Metro Man glances around the little room. "First…okay. For right now, I'm just gonna need you to get this gun of yours plugged into a hefty power supply. If you can get that, I'll go ahead and widen up the field a little."

Megamind jerks his head in a nod and leaves without another word.

After he's gone, Roxanne approaches Wayne. "What are you doing?"

He doesn't look up from where he's tightening the nuts holding the gun to its tripod to keep it stable when he switches out the barrel. "You're not gonna go offer to help him?"

"We don't need another power supply," she says quietly. "Your laser vision works; why change it? And why the harness? Couldn't a brainbot just hold onto the rope? I thought that was the plan."

"That was your plan," he says, drifting around the gun to get at the bolts on the opposite side. "But a brainbot won't be able to navigate the kind of space we're playing around in."

Roxanne shakes her head. "Wait, no, I'm confused. If we aren't sending a brainbot, then what…"

"You'll see," he says shortly. "Trust me, it'll be fine. Pass me that wrench?"

She gives him the wrench, but trust me, it'll be fine isn't something she's particularly interested in. "Seriously, what are you thinking?"

He's floating on his back as he loosens the barrel connection underneath the gun first. "I'll go."

"What?" She shakes her head and drops into a crouch so she can see his face. "What if something goes wrong and we can't get you back?"

"You've got a super-genius," he says. "And I'll have one, too. Might take some explaining to get the one on my end to listen, but he's even got his whole brain and everything. But it's not going to be a problem," he rolls to the side to start on another coupling, "because if it was, it would've already happened."

She bites her lip. "I don't know. I still think a brainbot—"

"I told you, brainbots can't navigate like I can," he says shortly. "Roxie, it's gotta be me. Now, help me balance this thing."

They've gotten the old barrel off the gun and Roxanne is holding a wider one steady while Wayne screws it into place when Megamind returns. "Finish what you're doing and then step back," Megamind snaps. He's carrying a concave dish under one arm, and his other arm is stuck through several…Wayne isn't sure what they are, but they're all metal and they're all more or less round and they all have holes through the middle, and he's carrying them as close to his shoulder as possible. He's wearing his gun belt again and he's also carrying a standard toolbox, but even as heavy as that looks, the way he's leaning says the giant rings are heavier still. Wayne knows better than to offer to help, but…

Megamind kneels to set the toolbox on the floor, then carefully bends sideways and unthreads his arm from the rest of his burden. He stands back up with the dish in hand, picking at the multitude of insulated wires taped to the back of it. He glances up once, scowling, and wiggles his fingers in Wayne's direction. "Step back, I said," he insists. Roxanne has already moved to stand by the wall. "I need to get in there."

Wayne drifts back a few feet, then up and around so he can look over Megamind's shoulder—he's busily stripping wires and binding them to the ones trailing from the back of the dish; it looks like this is going to be part of the gun's new power supply. "What's that?"

"None of your business."

Wayne frowns, nettled. He knows the little guy doesn't like him, but seriously? "I really think it is my business."

"You think everything is your business," Megamind says in a flattish tone, carefully adjusting the angle of the panel downwards. He doesn't look up as he returns to the pile of metal rings and starts shoving the largest one into position on the floor with short, quick movements. "You find my notes, you find my plans, you assume you know my machines—"

Wayne's lip finally curls. "Okay, look," he says, sharp, "I'm trying to rescue your friend, here, not start a fight. Grow up." When Megamind doesn't answer, he takes a deep breath and blows it out in a rush. Hopefully, that'll be the end of it. "So. Can I move any of that? It looks heavy."

Megamind bites his lip hard, then says, "Just…move it two feet that way."

"Can do." The thing is made up of several hundred narrow, identical bricks—they'd be wide, right-angled triangular prisms, if not for the fact that their most acute angles are cut off to create a short fourth side—arranged in a ring with a small gap between each brick. There are tangles of tiny wires visible in each gap, and the slanting edge of each brick is bright with copper panels.

Megamind opens the toolbox, removes a strongly-beveled cone with both ends square, fits this into the center of the ring he'd had Wayne move, and then turns it and lifts a little to click and lock it in. "Pick it up," he says shortly, then crouches to scoot underneath, long fingers making quick work of checking the connections. Satisfied, he nods and gets out of the way so Wayne can put the thing back down again.

"Roxanne," he says, and she jumps a little. "Can you fit the dampener into the ocular focus?" She blinks a few times, and he adds, "That's the, um, the giant ring-washer and the circle made of little silver boxes."

"I can try," she agrees.

"Thanks," he says, and sits down on the floor next to the toolbox, pulls out a lump of whitish metal and what looks like a diamond-edged cheese grater, and starts shaving little filings into a pile.

"What's that?" Wayne asks, and Megamind glances up at him, already glaring.

But then he sighs and his shoulders slump a little. "It's…just magnesium. I need it to burn, that's all—the Catastrophic Converter will do the rest."

Okay… Wayne nods again. "Okay, well, I'm gonna finish changing out the barrel, yeah?"

Megamind tenses, but shrugs and says, "Do whatever you have to," and proceeds to pointedly ignore anything happening after that until the magnesium is fully shredded.

Even he isn't sure what he thinks about Metro Man's involvement in all this, especially considering how, last night, it sounded like most of this was his idea in the first place. Roxanne exhibiting concern for him is one thing, but Metro Man? That's something else entirely, and Megamind doesn't know what it is, and it's setting him on edge.

He finishes with the magnesium, scooping up the handfuls of fine filings and dumping them carefully into the chamber in the center of the Converter. Then he places a second ring, similar to the first but smaller, around the chamber and hooks it into the base ring and chamber itself. After that, it's not hard to lock the top of the chamber into place and assemble the dampener and focus over everything else. The receiver gets set up at just the right angle to the reflector Megamind has Metro Man attach to the ceiling above the Converter, and it's done.

"Okay," he says, brushing himself off with quick movements. "That's the power supply taken care of. Now what?"

"You're sure that's gonna be enough?" Metro Man asks. "It's only magnesium, I mean…"

Megamind growls. "It's a Catastrophic Converter. It's not 'only' magnesium; it piggybacks off the energy released as the magnesium burns and pulls out the rest of the energy lost in the oxidation reaction. It uses oxidation itself as the point of fission and gleans all the potential energy from the source. This thing," he snaps, pointing at the device on the floor, "is probably the most totally overblown, pointlessly destructive item I own—we're talking atom bomb levels of destruction—and I turned it into a generator because you said you need one. That should be enough magnesium to keep the bridges open for at least an hour. I don't know what else you want, here."

"Okay, good," Metro Man says, after a couple moments. "Now, the harness."

Megamind's expression tightens, but he nods. "How big are we talking?" he asks, still looking irritated. "Brainbot-sized? Minion-sized?"

"Me-sized," Metro Man tells him.

Roxanne glances over from where she's been studying the Catastrophic Converter, but she doesn't say anything. Megamind's annoyed expression has fallen abruptly flat, leaving horror and surprised alarm swimming in its wake. Good, she's not the only one with reservations about this.

"What? You—what?" Megamind stammers, sounding almost hilariously dismayed considering how sharp he was just seconds earlier. He skips back two steps, shaking his huge head. "You…wait, what exactly is your plan?"

Metro Man sighs and puts his fists on his hips, squares his shoulders. "It goes like this: we fire up the gun. I put on the harness. We tether me to the here-and-now. And then you shoot me," he continues firmly, even though Megamind's face is turning pale and his eyes are getting bigger and bigger, "with the gun, and I hyper-accelerate and I hunt around whenever, wherever I end up until I find Minion. Then I reel both of us back home." He shrugs and nods at the gun. "That thing should work as an exit as well as an entrance."

"Not. At. Not at the same time," Megamind says.

"Yes, at the same time," Metro Man replies, positive. "This is time we're talking about, we're not working with space here. It can be both at once."

"But…" Megamind's voice trails off and he swallows. "If…if something goes wrong, you'd…never make it back, and…"

"If something was going to go wrong, Wayne would have come out when Minion went in," says Roxanne, who thinks she's getting the hang of this. "That's the last time the gun was functional."

Wayne nods. "Yep, that would've been my exit. This will work," he adds, his voice firm, because Megamind is apparently still too shocked to even scrunch his face the way he usually does when he's not convinced. "All you need to do is pull the trigger and trust me."

"And figure out the rope thing," Roxanne adds. She isn't one to get between Megamind and Metro Man when they're snipping at each other, but this is different.

Wayne shrugs. "Yeah. And that. Oh, and I'll need your best guess for where Minion would've gone, 'cause I'm not coming back until I find him." He frowns. "Little buddy, it's gonna be okay. Really. You don't gotta look like that."

Megamind jumps, then spins away, blinking furiously. "Harness," he says, his thoughts all in a tangle, "and rope. Right! I'll just…go and, and get those."

He all but vaults over the stricken door. Anything to put distance between himself and that gun, he can't think next to it with Metro Man talking like that; he can't think of anything but Minion as the gun swung around, Minion vanishing to nothing, Minion's shorn-off legs sparking sheared-off wires when they toppled forward, and—

Metro Man flits out after him and pulls alongside, rolling halfway onto his back in the air. "Hey," he says in a low voice. "Listen. Do you trust me?"

"That's not the point," Megamind grits between clenched teeth, lengthening his strides. His chest is tight, and he takes a shuddery breath as the memory of Minion vanishing into nothing plays again on the backs of his eyes because all he can think is, I have to do that again, this isn't going to work, he's going to die, he's going to DIE and it really is astonishing how badly that thought hurts.

"Yeah, it is the point, actually," Metro Man replies with surprising patience, and stretches into a lazy, fluid barrel roll. "Do you?"

Megamind shakes his head and gulps past the stone in his throat. He'd never thought he would ever find help like this from Metro Man's quarter. He's always worked alone, always—except for Minion. And Metro Man has always been the thorn in his side, always so full of himself, always everything Megamind could never be, always looking down his nose, but now…

"You're not expendable," he snaps, waspish again to drown out the way his blood is pounding in his ears, "if something goes wrong, if—if you don't come back, I can't…"

"Megamind, I said do you trust me."

Megamind sighs, swallows, and glances over at him, finds the hero looking surprisingly earnest. "Yes," he admits, and hangs a left into his main storeroom.

The crooked smile Metro Man sends him looks almost relieved. "Then believe me when I say this will work. Yeah? Okay?"

Megamind hesitates, but finally, he has to nod. "Yeah," he says. What choice does he have? "Okay."

Metro Man pulls more upright in the air, curling into a crosslegged position and grinning as he grabs his toes in an enthusiastic gesture Megamind hasn't seen from him since middle school. "Cool," he says, bouncing in the air. "Awesome. So…any ideas on the rope thing?"

Megamind bites his lip but slowly nods again, glancing around, scanning the high shelves rising on either side of them. There's no organization, but he's never needed any; he remembers where he puts things. "A few."

"Sweet." Metro Man drifts along after him for a second on his invisible magic carpet, then chuckles. "Look at us, finally getting along, huh? On the same team? That was, like…four whole sentences when you didn't yell at me, just now, huh?" He drifts sideways, bumps Megamind's shoulder.

"Don't touch me," Megamind says, but it's mostly reflex and it lacks any real conviction. Still, he rolls his eyes and manages a reasonably convincing sneer as he forces himself to stop thinking about Wayne trusting his life to his single greatest failure. "Ugh. Why are you following me?"

"Eh, I just…figured you could use an extra pair of hands. Your little robots are all dead."

"They're only sleeping, they'll be fine," Megamind scoffs, and pauses by a bin labeled Strings & Things. "But…all right. As long as you're here, hold these…oh, and I'll need more magnesium, I don't want to take any chances…"

Roxanne clears her throat. "I have a question about the rope," she says, when they're unloading buckles and ropes and a three-thousand-pound winch onto the floor. "I was thinking…could we do something with light?"

Megamind cocks his head at her. "How do you mean?"

"When Wayne accelerates, it's basically a time-stop, right?" Roxanne says, glancing up at him for confirmation. "Well…it's still light out when he does it. I mean, the photons or…or whatever light is made of, they don't stop moving when everything else does."

Megamind blinks, then looks sharply at Metro Man. "Is that true?"

Metro Man shrugs. "Yeah, it's not dark or anything. How'd you think I get around?"

Megamind blinks again, then bursts into startled laughter. This, this was the distraction he'd needed to pull him away from this whole horrible venture. "Perfect," he says. He'd always figured the sped-up navigation was related to the Glau's interspatial phase awareness, but light, that's totally mundane! He can work with that. He can do all kinds of work with that. "Yes, we can do something with light, absolutely." Then he looks at Roxanne and cants his head again. "What made you think of that?"

"I…I don't know," she says, startled at the sudden attention. "Just…time stuff, I guess."

"Hmm." He studies her for a moment longer—that was the sort of thing Minion had used to say, offer something helpful right before Megamind could think of it, but…it's probably not worth mentioning. Mentioning it won't change anything.

He turns his attention back to Metro Man. "I'll need to run a few tests. Would you recognize the right kind of particle if you touched it?"

"Probably, but it'd have to be almost completely quantum."

"Okay." Megamind frowns. "Do you think…entangled quantum or the 'everything is nothing' kind of quantum?"

"The second one, probably." Metro Man stretches a little, looking nonplussed. "Maybe both? It'll taste like chicken when you get it right, that's all I know."

Roxanne has to laugh a little bit. "Wait, taste? How do you taste a particle?"

Metro Man grimaces. "You'll see."

"Is that why chicken tastes like everything," Megamind murmurs, but his mind is worlds away already. This will take some time.

Metro Man winds up sitting cross-legged on the floor in another of Megamind's labs while Megamind fires a slapdash laser cannon at the hero's open mouth, making minute adjustments based on Wayne's feedback and trying to refine what will eventually become a photolayer around a regular piece of nylon cord. Since light still exists when Metro Man hyper-accelerates, Megamind reasons that light, with its wave/particle nature, must be at least a little bit immune to time-space shenanigans. Metro Man agrees this makes sense, and while Megamind would not ordinarily put much store in what Metro Man thinks, he's never heard the hero speak so casually—and accurately—about cascading gaussian vector systems in quaternion terms before. It seems his old enemy has hidden depths.

Roxanne stands off to one side, leaning against the wall, wearing a lead apron, goggles, and an amused expression. She doesn't have much to contribute to this part beyond emotional support, and she knows it, but that's okay. Watching the two aliens interact is entertaining enough, and she'll add something if she feels it's needed.

"I don't even have words for half these flavors," Metro Man complains, but after a while he says, "That one was a little poultry-ish." Megamind makes a small adjustment and fires again. Metro Man grimaces. "No, the other direction."

"Which other direction?" Megamind asks, exasperated. "There are six."

"How should I know? You're the genius, I'm just the guinea pig."

Megamind pokes his head out from behind the laser cannon, looking totally flabbergasted, but there's a wicked glint in his eye. "Wow, really? What kind of rodent pellets did they feed you?"

Metro Man rolls his eyes. "'The' guinea pig, not 'a' guinea pig."

"Nope, too late, you're Metro Mouse from now on." Megamind gives him a grin and disappears into his notebook again, writing down the specs of the particle that was close to the right one. He wouldn't have needed to write it down, before, but he's getting used to lists these days. "Okay, testing back-left spin, three percent waveform duality…"

Roxanne eventually sits down on the floor with a sigh. It looks like all this is going to involve more trial-and-error than she'd anticipated.

Five hours later, Metro Man and Roxanne are cranky, but Megamind is still bound and determined to get this right. His brain might be functioning differently these days, but he hasn't lost any of his old determination. "If you guys want to go home, fine," he says flatly. "I'm staying here. There's still about forty things we haven't tried…well, okay, thirty-eight things, but…"

"Aaagh," Metro Man says, flopping onto his back and slinging an arm over his eyes, "I can't feel my face."

Roxanne groans and pushes herself to her feet. Her phone died about an hour ago; she didn't charge it last night and she wasn't expecting to be scrolling through Facebook forever today. "Megamind, you need to take a break."

"Evil never sleeps," Megamind quips automatically, but Roxanne just rolls her eyes.

"Be that as it may, and as strange as it feels to be glad to see Evil playing with lasers again—"

"Oh, good, it's not just me," Metro Man murmurs without moving. "Wooo."

"—You need to take a break." She goes over to Megamind and gives the laser a gentle shove so that it rolls a couple feet away, then tugs his notebook out of his mostly-unresisting fingers. "C'mon."

Megamind scowls at her. "Quitter," he says, but he doesn't resist when she pulls his pencil out from behind his ear.

"It's called a strategic retreat," she corrects him, "and we'll pick it back up after we eat something and clear our heads. Besides, don't you want to get the brainbots back up and running? They could get started cleaning up around here while we work." She puts a wheedling note in her voice and raises her eyebrows, hopeful that this suggestion will stir Megamind to other pursuits. "Then you won't have to sleep in a dirty, dusty bed tonight."

Megamind pulls up short, blinking a little, his eyebrows twitching together. "Sleep? Here? Me?"

"I…I thought we'd be staying here until this is solved," Roxanne says, a little taken aback at his apparent worry. Then again, he's got kind of a one-track mind these days, she thinks ruefully, glancing down at the notebook and the pages he'd filled. They're totally Greek to her. 

Megamind catches her eye when she looks back up. "We," he repeats, questioning.

Metro Man lifts his arm and waves to get their attention. "I'm not staying here overnight," he announces. "I have a job protecting the helpless citizens of Metro City."

Roxanne ignores him. "Yeah," she tells Megamind. "We. I'm not leaving you alone until all this is over, one way or another."

Megamind blinks at her, his heart full, his eyes thankfully empty. "All our stuff is at your apartment," he says, with a glance at the still-supine hero. "And if…if I'm going to sleep at all, it won't be here."

"Ah." Roxanne nods. "Right. Did you get any sleep last night?"

"I…drifted. For a couple hours."

She reaches out and briefly cups his cheek. "Okay," she says. "We'll go home tonight, then."

Metro Man sits up, bracing his hands behind him and leaning back as he cocks his head. "Hold up," he says. "So, you two are actually sleeping together now? I missed that part, I think."

Megamind stiffens, immediately defensive, but Roxanne just laughs and slips an arm around his waist, hooking her thumb in one of his belt loops and tugging him close. "Didn't realize we had to tell you all the details," she says playfully. "That okay with you, Mom?"

Metro Man wiggles his feet at them and makes a disgruntled face. "Hey, it's none of my business. I was just curious what'll happen when we get Minion back. How's that gonna work?"

Megamind pinches his lips together and twists his eyebrows together in the middle of his forehead, but his irritation is belied by the way he's slowly curling into Roxanne's side. "I'm not going back into villainy," he says flatly, then jumps as Roxanne reaches behind her back to grab his hand and pull his arm around her so she can place his hand on her hip. At that, his face relaxes into a weak smile. "Not after this," he continues in a softer voice. "I can't do this again."

"Huh. That's cool." Metro Man nods slowly. Then he looks up. "Hey, you lovebirds wanna get subs? There's a great sandwich place not far from here. C'mon, let's get lunch."

Roxanne nods back, then looks encouragingly at Megamind. "Let's," she urges. "I don't want you to get too wrapped up here."

Megamind swallows, wanting to go, needing to stay, feeling absurdly calm in the back of his head. "But," he says. "Minion."

"I know. But he's waited this long," Roxanne says, and tips her head forward to rest against his, "he can wait for you to eat some food."

Megamind sighs. This is true. And the warmth that blooms in his chest when she nuzzles him is persuasive.  "Okay," he agrees, thinking, Lovebirds?  "Let's get lunch."

He's nervous as they land and approach the shop. This is his first time out and about in daylight without his uniform in…ever. And yes, he's flanked by Metro Man and Roxanne, but strangers' stares still prick him from all sides.

"Your face is gonna stick like that if you aren't careful, little buddy," Metro Man remarks, and Megamind realizes he's been glaring.

He manages to clear his expression, but it's hard. Glaring is safe; he always knows what his face is doing when he's glaring. He'll have to pay attention if he wants to keep his features neutral. Honestly, it's probably more than he can handle, and he's glad when Roxanne asks the hostess for a booth. Having his back exposed to the room is definitely out of the question if either of his companions wants him to participate in conversation.

Still, it's a nice-looking place, clean, with red trim Megamind tentatively approves of. The hostess all but flees after she seats them; that's…reassuring. He's still too jittery to look at the menu, at first, but then Metro Man snorts.

"What?" Roxanne says. Wayne is gazing over the back of the booth behind her and Megamind, grinning.

"Looks like the servers are drawing straws back there," he says, then nudges Megamind with a toe under the table. "I think you scared 'em."

"I'm not scary," Megamind protests. He's out of uniform and covered in dust, unarmored and unarmed. How can anyone possibly find him scary like this?

Roxanne laughs and elbows him low in his side, making contact well away from his gills—was that intentional? Mind-reading might have had some benefits. "You're not scary?" she scoffs. "Since when? You've been missing for a year and now you're doing something nobody's ever seen you do before. And you put how many years into making sure people were terrified of you?" She rolls her eyes at him, but her smile is warm. "Shut up."

There's not much he can say to that, so he drags his face into amusement and chuckles and elbows her back, remembering their midnight shove-war at the kitchen table not so long ago. "Make me."

A young woman clutching an order pad to her chest approaches their table. "Hi I'm Stacy and I'll be your server today what can I get you to drink?"

"Just water for me," Roxanne tells her, lips twitching. Megamind glances at her, unsure why she's trying so hard to pretend she doesn't notice the woman's obvious discomfort.

"I'll have a Sprite," Metro Man says. His act is much better than Roxanne's.

"Uhhh is Seven-Up okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Okay. And, and for you? Uh, sir?"

Megamind looks at her, frozen. Part of him wants to pull out Evil Grin #3, all teeth, eyes lit, and tell her, blood, just to see what she does. Part of him wants to be scary—if they all think he is anyway, why not? It's what they expect. Give them what they want! But there's another part that just wants to know what a normal conversation with a stranger is like, and yet another part that's just plain tired of meeting everybody else's expectations. "Ehhh," he says, and realizes his mouth is open and he's been dithering, and that's just. wrong. unacceptable. He jumps and clears his throat. "I. I'm. Um. Uh…"

"He'll have a Coke," Metro Man tells Stacy, whose frightened expression is slowly falling to puzzled at the way Megamind seems just as scared of her as she is of him.

"I'll…I'll h-have. Yes," Megamind agrees, too embarrassed to even be upset that Metro Man is ordering for him. Aw, crap, he can feel himself turning red. It really is a curse, how easily that happens. "Y-yes, that. Coke. Thanks."

"Sure, no problem," Stacy says, and as she leaves, she hears Metro Man say, "Little buddy, you are a piece of work." There's a groan and then a thump, and when she glances back, the blue supervillain has his head down on the table. She frowns, pensive, then disappears into the back.

"I miss my spikes," Megamind whines, muffled. Metro Man laughs and turns his attention to his menu.

"You're fine, plenty of people lock up in new situations," Roxanne says. "It's nothing she hasn't seen before. So…not to change the subject…"

"Yes, please, let's change the subject," Megamind says fervently, sitting back up. Anything to draw focus away from his general failure at simple interactions! God, how embarrassing.

"Assuming we're right, and Minion is back in time, where would he be?" She reaches over and squeezes his hand. "Best guess."

That's not quite the subject Megamind would have picked, but—whatever! He'll take it. "That's a good question," he admits. "I'm not sure. He can't be pre-Lair, not with how I've configured the reconciliation device. The kind of energy needed to send anything back that far would have fried it. So, he has to be in the Lair, but…I think I'd remember a second Minion showing up. He wouldn't hide from me."

Roxanne seems to hesitate at that. "I'm…not so sure." She fiddles with her napkin-wrapped silverware. "You were a mess when I found you. No offense," she adds quickly, "it sounds like you held on for a long time, fighting to find him and get him back and all! But…maybe whatever happened to you happened to Minion too, but differently. It might have happened faster, or slower. We don't know."

"But he would have come to me," Megamind argues, reaching for his own silverware and tugging off the napkin ring. He blinks at how easily the ends come apart—it doesn't even tear, the glue just falls open—then busies himself folding a triangle from the corner so he can tear off a square. "Even though I wouldn't have known what was going on. I know him."

"You know him when he's linked to you." Roxanne bites her lip. "Minion is why you never had to make lists before, right? There's no way to know for sure, but…I think he's the one who handles the…the progression of things? Like tasks, and…and all the pieces in your fast brain, and putting the pieces together. Kind of like I do at work, with a feed in my ear and I'm watching the video screens and scanning through twitter for information."

Megamind watches her warily, his hands still working at folding the little paper square, and waits.

"So…what if the relationship goes both ways?" Roxanne finally says, watching his fingers move. "What if he uses your fast brain for…well, for some essential piece of his thought processes?"

"He might not have been able to evaluate his options clearly without Megamind's input?" Metro Man asks quietly, and Roxanne nods.

"That's pretty much it, yeah."

Megamind is silent for a long moment, bending the paper and pulling on corners, creasing along lines, before he says, "This relationship definitely goes both ways. It's mutually beneficial." Because, really, Roxanne shouldn't be able to learn to rewire sensitive, custom-made electronics in under an hour. She's smart, but her intelligence is a different kind of smart than that. The seismographier had been years ago; she shouldn't have even remembered it as an option. That sort of thing is Megamind's job. And she shouldn't have thought to use light the way she had. It worries him badly. "For Minion," he says, and stops. "I don't know what it would be like," he eventually says. "I don't know exactly what he'd have lost, but…if he didn't find me, then he would have gone into the lake."

Metro Man shifts in his seat. Frowns a little. "The lake? Are you sure?"

Megamind nods and glances up briefly before returning his attention to the paper in his hands. "Humans can sense things you can't; you can sense things they can't. It's the same with Minion and me. Minion is attuned to…rhythms, I suppose." He shrugs. "The moon and the sun. The waves in the lake would be comforting to him. And he is fully aquatic." He sets a tiny, lopsided paper crane on the table, then sets himself to making a second one. He pulls his gloves off, this time—creasing the paper is difficult without being able to use his nails.

Roxanne sits forward a little, her head on one side. "Wait," she says. "What was that about humans sensing things Metro Man can't?"

The hero sounds embarrassed. "It's not major stuff," he says, but Megamind grins sharply and fixes Metro Man with a sly grin that looks almost exactly like one of his old ones.

"Oh no? How about that time you got into that fight with the wind turbine?"

"It wasn't a fight," Metro Man protests. "I just…kinda…ran into it."

"It ran into you, and you panicked and chopped off two of its arms." Megamind cocks an eyebrow, smirking, and turns to Roxanne. "The faster something moves, the harder it is for him to see in the normal light spectrum," he tells her. "The ends of wind turbine blades, especially on the really big turbines, are almost invisible to him."

"Shut up," Metro Man says under his breath, shaking his head, "shut up, Megamind, don't you dare."

"We had a school trip, and Don Quixote over there was showing off," Megamind continues brightly, and Metro Man groans at the nickname. "I'll never forget the noise it made. SPAK!" He drops his half-finished crane and claps his hands together, flat and glancing off each other like he's crashing cymbals. "I laughed for days."

"Yeah, okay, thanks," Metro Man grumbles, as Roxanne cracks up. "I can see them just fine when I'm focusing on energy transference."

"Yes, but you weren't, were you? You were filtering visible light." He sneers. "Amateur."

"Hey, we're both self-taught; you're no more of a literal professional than me," Metro Man points out.

Megamind snorts and waves a hand. "Semantics. But I should tell you," he adds, sobering and returning to the unpleasant present, "Minion is also more in tune with his instincts than I am, so I don't know if he'll be…all there." He hesitates, then tells Wayne, "Don't let him bite you. I don't know if he would do you any damage, but he's venomous."

Stacy reappears at the table so abruptly that all three of them jump. "Hi here're your drinks have you decided what you want to eat?" she says in a rush, and Megamind immediately feels himself clam right back up again. Ugh, what is with this? This is the worst. He used to be so good at handling the public. Well, bad, really, but he'd been darn good at bad. But this is just…this is just plain bad.

A slight tapping sound gets his attention, and he glances down and then sharply back up again. Stacy isn't looking at him, but she is tapping a long, painted fingernail on the tabletop near where she'd set his drink—along with a small spiral notebook and a pencil. Megamind breathes, and he has his order written down by the time Roxanne is finished asking for a Reuben on wheat instead of rye. He's also written THANK YOU at the bottom, in all capital letters, underlined.

Okay. Maybe Roxanne was right. If the waitress is so used to people needing to write their orders that she brings a separate notepad, discreetly…then maybe it's not so bad after all. Maybe it does count as some version of normal. Even if it's embarrassing, he's clearly not the only one having this problem.

"'Kay, I'll be right back with those," Stacy promises, and takes the little notebook and hurries away again.

Okay. He can do this. And if…when Minion gets back, it will be easier. So much easier if he can think with his whole brain again, instead of just pieces of it at a time. So much easier if he can talk to his best friend again.

But if Minion is somewhere in the past, then…he's been there this whole time, waiting for Megamind to come get him, and…

He reaches for his Coke and chugs about half of it, hoping the sugar rush will help. It doesn't. I'll get him back, he tells himself. I'll get him back. We. We will get him back and everything will be okay. We'll get him back and everything will be fixed.

And then what?

He wants—he wants to reach out to Roxanne. That's still such a new feeling, this wanting to seek physical reassurance, that he doesn't realize what it is at first. And then, when he finally does identify it, he still has to push past his gut reaction: don't be ridiculous, you know you aren't allowed to do that.

He slides his hand crabways on the red, fake-leather seat of the booth until he's able to hook his long fingers over Roxanne's hand and curl them into her palm. Ha, he tells his gut when she looks at him and smiles, in your face.

"If this works," he says out loud, "what happens to you?"

Roxanne blinks at him. "Hm? What do you mean, what happens to me?"

"I mean…" He squeezes gently, trying not to show how worried he is. "If I…re-bond with Minion, the link…it will probably break the link I have with you. I don't know if this can go three ways. I'll be me again. The old me. I'll. Be able to think again." He swallows, glances down at their hands. "Will you…are you sure you can still…"

"I told you before, I'm still up for whatever we can do," Roxanne tells him, turning her hand over and netting her fingers with his. "You're my friend, first and foremost. Anything on top of that is bonus, but I'm not just going to abandon you as soon as Minion gets back." She ducks her head a little, trying to make eye contact. "Okay?"

Megamind blinks at her and nods, his expression unreadable. And hopefully he isn't able to tell what Roxanne is feeling, either, because right now, she's feeling deeply conflicted.

On one hand, she really likes this new, quiet Megamind who shares his life with her. On the other hand, she hates that he's only like this because he's effectively had part of his mind ripped out and replaced with something he isn't fully sure how to use, and she's really hoping Minion is okay and they're able to re-establish whatever bond they had. As much as she likes Megamind now, she misses his quick smile and his ability to be entertained by small things.

She just hopes the feeling is mutual, and she's hoping to any god that will listen that Megamind still wants her when Minion returns.

Chapter Text

Soundtrack Link (YouTube)

It's past eleven o'clock at night when Megamind and Metro Man finally hit the frequency of particle they need for the rope that will keep Metro Man grounded in their timeline, and Metro Man decides it's time for all of them to get some sleep. Megamind protests but doesn't put up as much of a fight as he would have a year ago; Roxanne is already dozing in the corner, and he really does need to sleep.

So he bites his tongue and nods agreement, and settles for activating the brainbots and setting them on cleanup duty. At least the place won't be a total wreck when Minion comes back, he reasons; that's worth delaying for a while, right?

Ha. But he can pretend he believes it.

Metro Man drops him and Roxanne off at the apartment and Roxanne immediately goes inside to get ready for bed, but Megamind lingers on the spacious balcony. There's a question that's been knocking around in his head with increasing urgency for almost two days, and if he doesn't get some kind of answer soon, he's going to explode.

"Something on your mind?" Metro Man asks when Megamind remains by the balcony railing instead of following Roxanne inside. "What's up?"

Megamind leans his elbows on the rail and frowns down at his hands. "You're going to a lot of trouble for not a lot of payoff," he replies slowly. It was strange enough when Roxanne did it, but this is just a whole other level of bizarre. "I don't…really know where to go with that. You don't help me. I don't know what changed."

Metro Man, who was about to hop into the air when he noticed Megamind wasn't moving, settles back onto his heels instead and frowns warily down at his ex-nemesis. "A bunch of stuff," he says slowly. "It sucks not having my little buddy around to break up the monotony. Never thought I'd say this, but I actually kinda miss you."

Megamind lets out an incredulous scoffing sound. "That's not all of it, though," he says. For some reason, it's easier to say what he means to his old enemy than it is with Roxanne. "You must have some kind of alter…ulter…other motive. For doing all this." He presses his lips together, starts tugging at his gloves.

After a pause, Metro Man coughs awkwardly. "I mean, I'm a hero." He shrugs. "Helping people who need help is…it's what I do."

"Not to me, you don't," Megamind says. There's no anger in his voice, and that's actually what makes Wayne wince, but Megamind is looking at his gloves and doesn't see. "So, what's the real reason?"

"Okay. Uh…look, you know how, earlier, you said you weren't gonna be a villain anymore? Were you serious about that?"

Megamind turns his head and glances up at him. Metro Man is standing with both feet on the ground for once, an almost worried expression on his face, and he's chewing the inside of his cheek, something he only does when he's attempting intelligent thought—which, in Megamind's experience, has about a thirty percent success rate.

He turns back to stare at the toy cars honking past miniscule pedestrians seventeen stories down. "You can hear when I'm lying," he says. "You know I was serious, why even ask?"

"I…well, that's…more of a sight thing, actually," Metro Man says. "And there's a difference between outright lying and…and just, meaning something when you say it, but not meaning it overall." He sighs, rolls his shoulders, shrugs a little. "But, okay. You meant it." He rubs the back of his neck for a moment, then flops down into one of Roxanne's Adirondack chairs, bowing the legs out.

"I wasn't gonna say anything," he says. "But…you asked, and…and we're sort of cool now, I guess? So I'm just gonna lay it out there. Okay?"

Interested in spite of himself, Megamind turns more fully towards him as he nods. Metro Man doesn't usually tell him anything about how his various senses work; Megamind has had to figure them out on his own, over the years. And Metro Man's hands catch his eye. They're open. They aren't usually open. Usually they're fists.

'Usually' is becoming increasingly useless.

"The thing is," the hero says, "the way things used to be? Before Minion poofed, you were up there. I mean, you weren't on patrol, but…you gave just as much as I did. Oh, don't even start," he adds, waving to stop Megamind when he scowls and opens his mouth to argue. "Just don't. Okay? You're a fucking philanthropist and we both know it, so don't even bother."

Megamind snaps his mouth shut again, startled at the flat profanity. Metro Man rarely swears, mostly due to his job. He'd said in an interview, once, that he takes his role as a role model very seriously; it's just easier if he doesn't even get into the habit of doing things that might compromise his wholesome image. How unapologetically dull can you get? Minion had said. Pathetic, was Megamind's response. Either way, Metro Man dropping an f-bomb is an attention-grabber.

Megamind opts to continue not to speak. That's easiest. And safest.

After a minute, Metro Man sighs a bit and rubs at his eyebrows. "So, anyway…I dunno if you've noticed, but the crime rate in Metro's basically skyrocketed over the past year? I don't even know what you were doing to keep stuff under control, but whatever it was, it worked. I've been going out of my mind trying to keep up without you." The chair he's sitting in is low-set, so he's looking up at his arch-rival instead of down; the angle is unusual and unsettling and Megamind doesn't like it. A change in perspective he could have dealt with, if that was all that changed, but in combination with everything Metro Man is saying…No.

"And that's why I'm helping you out, here," Metro Man continues, oblivious to Megamind's consternation. "We never worked together, but we were…a team. Sort of. And I'm having a nightmare of a time trying to run this city without you doing…" He waves again, wordless for a moment. "Doing whatever it is you did, I guess."

Megamind frowns, confused. He'd handled things as best he could when he needed to, but that's just looking after his stuff, isn't it? The city is his. Metro City is his home, and home isn't something he can take for granted, and he'll defend his home if he has to. Against both internal and external threats. That's what everyone does, isn't it?

Apparently not.

"Like…so, it's been, what, a year for you?" Metro Man asks into the silence, and Megamind nods. "Okay, well, for me, it's been closer to five. I've spent more time outside time than I have in it, just trying to get from one crisis to another in time. And trying to sleep! Look at this!" he exclaims, sitting up and gesturing at the sides of his head suddenly enough to make Megamind skip back even further. "I'm going gray! I'm barely thirty-five and I'm going gray!

"But I guess it's closer to forty, now. Forty-four? Ish?" He wiggles a hand in the air. "It's a little hard to calculate, I didn't figure out what was going on until a couple years ago.

"I—I mean," he says, because Megamind still hasn't said anything and hasn't given any indication that he's going to, "even ignoring the fact that I'm gonna die of old age in the next ten years if I don't get some kind of help, you were so invested in this place! I never figured that out, since, you know, they all treated you kind of like trash. But let's face it, if they ever found out? Everything you did for them?"

Megamind scrunches his nose and tries not to think about how much time Metro Man's been spending off the clock. "I donate money here and there," he allows quietly. But Metro Man just looks at him.

"Six hundred million dollars, Megamind," he says flatly. "Megamind. Six. Hundred. Million."

Megamind throws up his hands. "I'm a supervillain!" he exclaims. "I have more cash than I can spend in a lifetime, and city planning is expensive! What am I supposed to do with it all?"

"Sit on it," Metro Man says, eyebrows up. "Fritter it away like the rest of us."

Megamind scowls. "And they say I'm crazy. Anyway," he says, standing up a little straighter, scowling a little harder, "how do you know what I've been doing? I use your name for our annual donation to the schools, but other than that—"

"I've got friends," Metro Man says. "Friends who do numbers. And friends who are cops. And friends who are lawyers. I've got a lot of friends."

"Lucky you," Megamind sneers.

Metro Man ignores this. "But the important ones here are the friends who do numbers. Specifically, the budget numbers for the city over the past few years, 'cause I got curious. See, the schools in low-income districts were pretty good even before you and I started really throwing money into education, but you know most of the city's funds have always been aimed at fixing the damage from our battles. So why have our public schools always been so good?" He leans back a little, frowning. "Metro's arts and science programs are some of the best in the country. They were great even before that bill got passed to decouple public school funding from property tax values. Nice work on that, by the way," he adds, suddenly looking sly, and Megamind looks away. "That must've taken you a few years to set up, huh?"

"Nearly ten," Megamind mutters. Pretty much his whole adult career. He'd had to go through a lot of proxies for that one.

Metro Man nods, satisfied. "Our veterans' services are pretty stellar, too, and we've got some seriously sweet city-run welfare and disability programs, from what I hear. And our roads are fantastic. So, Metro City—despite its size, despite the fact that crime here has never been more organized—is a safe, clean, well-kept place to live. All this, and the property and state taxes aren't wildly above average.

"And speaking of taxes, the feds recently passed something, too," he continues, netting his hands behind his head and lounging back in his chair, looking smug, "what was it…oh, yeah, I remember. Something about how if there's any gain on the value of buildings that get destroyed and then rebuilt as a result of hero-villain confrontations, it gets deferred, so the sudden improvements don't screw over people who can't afford to pay taxes on them. Automatic like-kind exchange rules. Right?"

"It's a little more complicated than that," Megamind says stiffly, and Metro Man laughs.

"So that was you," he says. "I thought so."

Megamind shakes his head again. They shouldn't be talking about all this. Nobody should be talking about all this. He isn't used to having everything set out in front of him and it's making him feel defensive and strange; good deeds or not, his efforts tend to backfire on him when other people find out. Better to stay anonymous. Better not to have anyone know what he's doing. He'd thought he covered his tracks well enough, but…

"You helped," he accuses. "You helped, on that last one. And you can't prove anything."

"It was a good idea; of course, I helped," Metro Man scoffs. "And take it easy, little buddy. I'm not blaming you. I'm trying to thank you."

"I don't need to be thanked," Megamind snaps. He shoves off the balcony railing and stalks across the deck to lean back against the glass double doors instead, scowling so hard it's a wonder he can see anything from under his eyebrows. "'You break it, you buy it' isn't a new idea. I just took it a couple steps further, is all." He huffs. "I don't know why you're making such a big deal about it."

"Nobody takes responsibility for their actions anymore," Metro Man says. "Except you."

"And you," Megamind reminds him, nettled.

"Mostly 'cause I know you'll make my life a living hell if I don't," Metro Man says with a grimace. "Look, this is—this is all beside the point. It's whatever. It's in the past. What I'm trying to say is…the city needs you. I need you."

And—wow, okay, that defuses Megamind entirely, renders him totally speechless. After a few awkward seconds, Metro Man shrugs again and looks away. "And…you need Minion. So, if I can help make that happen, I'll do it."

"That," Megamind says, his mind spinning with so much bewildered indignation that he doesn't know what to say first, "that doesn't. You can't. What? No, you…you can't just…look, I've hurt people!" This is wrong. This isn't right. Rose-tinted goggles, or whatever they are, that's what Metro Man has on right now. "You can't just ignore that! I've—I've stolen and blackmailed and, and operated under false pretenses, I've—destroyed property, I've hurt families, I…I've tried to kill you. It doesn't follow that you'd want to help me, I…"

"If you wanted to kill me, I would be dead," Metro Man interrupts him. "You sure didn't try very hard."

Megamind huffs. "Not trying as hard as I could have doesn't mean I wasn't trying," he says flatly. He rolls his eyes, twirls his wrist in a placating gesture. "Okay, it was fun, I admit. I wasn't ready to give up the game." Then he points at Metro Man. "Cats and mice play, too, Metro Mahn. Game or no game: at the end of the day, the mouse winds up dead."

"Do you want to kill me?"

Megamind blinks, recoils. "What the hell kind of question is that?" he demands after a shocked little pause.

"An honest one." Metro Man stares up at him, his expression challenging. "Do you. Want. To kill me. Yes or no, Megamind, it's pretty simple." He scowls. "Or do you just not care one way or the other?"

Megamind stares back for a long moment, but it's more because he's annoyed than uncertain. "No," he finally snaps.

"No, you don't care?"

"No, I don't want to kill you," Megamind snarls, furious at having been forced to admit it, "but if you ask, did I—"

"Yeah, but that's not what I asked." Metro Man shakes his head. "If I was going to hold that grudge, we'd never get anything done. So, all's well that ends well," he says firmly. "And game or no game: at the end of the day, you've given more to Metro than anybody could ever ask. You couldn't do any of it where people might see you, and nobody's thanked you for any of it, and you can't tell anybody, and that sucks." He looks up again. He's really scowling now, and he's aiming it at Megamind, but it's not at Megamind, for once, it's…Megamind blinks and deflates somewhat. Metro Man is…offended? On his behalf? It seems that way, because the next thing out of his mouth is, "That sucks, and it's my fault. Isn't it?"

Megamind blinks a few times as he tries to reassess the tone of the conversation, and then he finally blows a sigh through his nose and reluctantly decides, okay, it's a little bit nice to be appreciated, even if it feels weird. He might as well stop trying to derail everything Metro Man is saying. He's never needed a pat on the back, but…fine, okay, this could be nice. And it's not really Metro Man's fault that everything changed, and…

And as awkward as it is and as uncomfortable as it makes him, it's probably good that this conversation is happening. Clear the air.

Ugh, he thinks, but he also makes a conscious effort to unruffle his feathers. "I…I guess," he allows. "But I made my own choices. Nobody twisted my arm."

Metro Man shoots him a level glance. "Nobody?" he asks. "Ever? I remember a couple times."

Megamind's answering stare looks like a warning. "It's a figure of speech," he says. "Don't make me get literal, you won't like it." Friend or enemy or whatever the heck Metro Man is to him now, the truce has been sort of nice so far, in spite of Megamind's lingering unease. Bringing up the two dislocated shoulders and the hyperextended elbow would rock the boat a little too much for his liking.

Friends? he wonders. Are we friends, now? The epithet feels supremely odd when he tries to apply it to Metro Man, but…he's realizing that he's starting to actually like the other alien. He doesn't want to, but there it is.

Metro Man's lips thin, but he jerks his head in a nod. "Fine. But, listen, just…if you'd thought you could be something else, wouldn't you have done that instead?" There's a challenge in his tone again, which rankles, but it sounds like a challenge to confide rather than confront.

Megamind squeezes his nails into his palms and says nothing. Easiest. Safest.

Eventually, Metro Man looks back up at him again and says, "Look. Just one more honest answer, okay? I guess this is kind of my point, here." Megamind nods once, almost imperceptibly. "If you thought you could be a hero instead of a villain—if you thought you could help people out in the open—wouldn't you do it?"

Even in summer, it's chilly at night. The glass is cool at Megamind's back and the wind feels thin through his sweater. He stares at his feet. No, he wants to say, I'm a villain, I love my city but I love villainy, too; I love the machines and the problem-solving and the spikes and the dark and the cold and the solitude and the knowledge that one of these days I'm going to die alone and, considering my career, it'll most likely hurt…

"Yes," he admits quietly, after a long few seconds, and saying it out loud doesn't ache the way he'd expected. "Yes, I…probably would. Back then. Now?" He shakes his head, glances at Metro Man through his eyelashes and then away. "I wouldn't know how."

"I could teach you," Metro Man says. Megamind's head snaps up and he stares, but Metro Man's expression holds no mockery. His eyebrows are up and he looks almost startled, but he's not laughing. "I'm serious. I could teach you. I would, if you asked—I just told you, I need you." He sits forward in the chair, which squeals in protest. His hands are still open. "The city's going to pot without you; I don't know enough of the specifics of what you were doing to take on your role and mine. So, whatever you wind up doing after this…look, would you just consider it? Please?"

Megamind's mouth is hanging open again. He's not sure when that happened. He's also not sure what his stomach is doing all the way down in his boots, but he's not surprised to find it there. In spite of how annoyed he was just a few seconds ago, in spite of how weirded-out he still feels…this is a chance. This is a chance to do something new, to build something new; it's something he's never tried, and he and Minion wouldn't have to figure it out alone, this time.

"I," he manages, and fuck, it's the restaurant all over again. He drags his mouth closed and kicks his brain back into gear. "You mean that?" He straightens, pulls his head up. "You. Really think I could? Do? What you do?"

"I remember, even when we were in school, you weren't a bad kid. Not 'til you wanted to be. You were just…" He shrugs. "Blue."

"And you were awful," Megamind replies sharply. Metro Man offers him a weak grin.

"Yeah. You're not kidding," he agrees. "But look, you don't have to like me, I just…I just need to know you're willing to work with me. Please." He grimaces again. "Otherwise I'm gonna have to bring in outside help, and I really don't wanna do that. Other heroes don't get it. And I'm not sure I could explain…this." He gestures back and forth between the two of them. "Our arrangement."

Megamind swallows hard. "I'll…work with you," he hears himself say. His heart is turning somersaults and he thinks he might throw up—but this is what he's always wanted, isn't it? A chance. That's all. Just a chance to try to get the same things that come to everybody else, and now, here it is, here's his chance.

He only had to lose Minion to get it.

"Oh, thank god," Metro Man groans, and scrubs both hands down his face before finally cracking a relieved-looking grin over at his former nemesis. "Thanks, man. I mean it, seriously, I know you and I don't really have a good history, but that's such a relief to hear."

Megamind shrugs and looks back down at his hands. "You're helping me get Minion back," he says quietly. He wants to sit down, wants to put his forehead on his knees and pretend the world doesn't exist for a while. He forces himself to continue standing, instead, and keeps his hands and voice steady. "That…that'll smooth over a lot. With me. Minion too."

At that, Metro Man tilts his head. "Yeah, uh, about that. Are you okay?" Then, when Megamind only blinks at him again, he says, "It's just, I know you were working on moving forward, and…"

Oh. That. Megamind lets out a harsh laugh. "Yes. Well, if…if this doesn't work, I'll probably go right back to square one. I'm not looking forward to that." He swallows. "I'm trying not to think about it," he says. "I'm. Trying to trust you. You said this would work. So."

Metro Man nods hard. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah. And it will! I'm positive."

"You better be." Megamind glances at him, finally sends him a small, pained smile. "I suppose you'll have to teach me how to…how to Justice. You can't disappear on me just yet."

"I kinda figured Minion for a saltwater fish," Metro Man says, grinning again but otherwise ignoring that. "But you said he'll be in the lake?"

Megamind shrugs again. "If he went anywhere, that's…

"Look, I should go to sleep." He's starting to feel shivery; they've been talking about this for too long. If he talks about it or thinks about it much longer, he's going to turn into an inarticulate mess again. And now, with all this talking with Metro Man instead of screaming at him, this promise of a potential future that might not end with him bleeding out on the pavement and everyone being happy he's gone… "I'm. I need to sleep."

Please, God. If you're there, if you're listening, please, let this work. Megamind is not one to pray, but for this? He'll try anything.

"Oh, right," Metro Man exclaims, floating up out of his chair and swinging so he's vertical in the air, looking sheepish, "yeah! Big day tomorrow, eh? Sorry. Yeah, you go to bed, I'm gonna do one more flyby and hit the hay myself. See you tomorrow—I'll be here around eight, again, okay?"

Megamind gives a jerky sort of nod and leaves the porch doors unlocked when he closes them behind him.

Roxanne isn't in his bed. She's lying in hers when Megamind goes to brush his teeth; he thinks she's asleep so he tries to stay quiet while he finishes his nightly routine, but when he opens the bathroom door she sits up a little.

"Hey," she says quietly. "You…do you want to stay with me tonight? Or…?"

Megamind considers this. His bed in the living room is cold, but it's safe; he can break down there if he needs to. Then again, he could break down here, too. Decisions, decisions.

He tries for honesty. "I shouldn't," he says. "I won't sleep well. I don't want to disturb you."

"Do you want to?" Roxanne asks, and Megamind gives a slow nod.

She grins sleepily and reaches for him. "Then enough with 'shouldn't.' C'mere, I need my pillow with bones."

He sits on the edge of her bed for a moment, feeling strange and wondering if it will pass before finally deciding he doesn't care, and then he crawls under her covers—they're heavier than his, and the extra weight is comforting—and stretches out on his back. Roxanne puts her head on his chest, hugs her arm across his middle, lies full-length against him and curves her body to fill in all his hard lines and angles. She gives a pleased little hum, then says, "Disturb me all you want, Brainmate. What's up?"

He struggles for a moment before he finds his words again, which is absurd; it's the same thing that's been up for more than a year. "Minion," he murmurs after a while. "I can't stop thinking. If this goes wrong."

"Well, you'll finally have defeated Metro Man," Roxanne says lightly, "but I suspect that's not what you mean."

No, I don't want to kill you. Megamind's laugh sounds forced even to his own ears, and he shivers, then freezes when Roxanne rolls away. But all she says is, "Okay, come over here, lie on me like I was just on you. I bet my shoulder can support your massive brain, what do you think?"

He blinks at her, confused, but he's already starting to follow her over. "Why…?"

"'Cause I want to hold you, instead of you holding me. Come on."

This is entirely new, but he does his best. He's a little iffy about resting his head on her shoulder and upper chest—it seems indecent, somehow, even though it's not like his face is in her boobs or anything. Most of his cranium is on the pillow, so weight probably isn't an issue, but he's still concerned about that, too.

But when she wraps her arm up around his back and strokes her other hand carefully down his side and presses a kiss to the curve of his skull, he has to admit that this really does feel nice. His throat tightens, and the thought skips through his mind that he wants Minion back if only so he can stop being a weepy mess. Ugh, this is embarrassing.

But…Roxanne smells like home, because right now home smells like toothpaste and hemp shampoo and lavender pillow spray. And her breath is warm on his skin and her heart is loud under his ear and Megamind is so full of fear and terrible joy and pain that he doesn't even know what to do with himself, and he suspects he'd feel at least some of this even if he did have Minion with him.

"I don't want to go back to how it was," he says. He won't be able to explain the conversation he'd just had with Metro Man if Roxanne asks, but the simple statement seems to more or less cover it. "I don't. I can't."

"You won't, it's okay."

"But I want to laugh again," he says lowly. "I want to make things. I miss it. I miss my hands and I miss my brainbots and I need Minion for that."

"I miss you laughing," Roxanne replies, sounding frank. "And I miss Minion, too. He's a great little fish. And if this doesn't work—whoa, hey! I think it will work, don't get so tense, but if—then I'll help you pick up the pieces. I told you before. You'll stay here with me, it'll be okay."

"But I can't do that forever," Megamind protests, sounding like his old self for a moment. "I have no purpose here. I…I act like your minion, that's it. I should be doing things. I'm like…like…"

"Like a bullfighter with no bull to fight?" she asks.

"More like a bullfighter trying to fight in scuba gear," he grumbles.

"Well, then, maybe we'll reach the point where you can go back to the Lair and you can make things, and we'll do that," Roxanne says, shrugging a little and chuckling at the mental image. "But when we do get Minion back, I bet he'll be so proud of you. Branching out, making friends. Patching things up with Wayne. And learning to do Minion's job, too! Maybe the little guy can take a day off, huh?"

Megamind grins. "He'd like that." Then he sighs a little, and his arm tightens on Roxanne's waist. "Thank you. I'm sorry I'm such a…a wet blanket."

"You're not a wet blanket, you're my bone-pillow brainmate best-ever boyfriend and I love you." She squeezes him, and he squeezes back, and they lie together and breathe for a while until Roxanne says, "Do you feel like you'll be able to sleep? Or shall I hit you with a brick?"

"No," Megamind says, smiling thinly. "I'll be okay. Am—I—your boyfriend?"

"I'd like you to be," she says. "But it's up to you. …Do you want me to call Metro Man and get him to brick you?"

"No," he says again, and Roxanne hears the small smile in his voice, "I think I'll manage. And I think—I think I'd like to be. Yours."

"Good," she says. "Kiss me?"

She doesn't have to ask twice. Megamind rises to one elbow and braces his hand on the other side of Roxanne's body, then dips his head so he can catch her mouth with his, and he feels her smiling again, at him, and then she's holding his chin and stroking her thumb down his goatee, and he wants…he wants hands, hands on warm skin, more than this, he wants…hands in hair, hands on lips, hand-in-hand, gloveless. Maybe not tonight, because even his bones are tired and he does desperately need to sleep, but he wants, and it surprises him. He's never bothered wanting, before. He'd never thought he could have.

He pulls back while she's still smiling, taps his forehead against hers, brushes the tips of their noses together. Roxanne laughs and slides her hand around to the back of his neck, under his skull, and she pulls him into a second, briefer kiss. And oooh, yes, Megamind could definitely go for hands on necks. He could do that.

Eventually he settles back down onto her shoulder, and he thinks that's the end of it. But then she hums again, kisses his head again, and it's all he can do not to tremble. That's another thing: he's never thought anyone would be okay with his head. He always thought that someday, if he found somebody, if he was lucky enough, he would need to create a disguise of some kind so they wouldn't have to stare at his malformation. Maybe see if he could do something substantial with the idea he had a while ago for a hard-light overlay.

But Roxanne…she kisses his bare scalp, she touches foreheads, she doesn't seem to mind that he's too small and too skinny and all-over blue, or that his torso is shaped weird, and his head is just totally deformed by all human standards. He's too much all the wrong things, and she doesn't seem to mind at all. She even said she thought he was beautiful.

Then she stirs, and Megamind's focus sharpens. "I was surprised you stayed outside as long as you did," she says, following this with an absolutely tremendous yawn. "Kinda figured you an' Wayne would come inside."

"Sorry," he says, but she shakes her head.

"No, no, don't apologize, 's just…you never went out on the deck before, never mentioned it or anything," she says, running a hand absently up and down over his scalloped ribs. She tries to steer clear of his gills, but she isn't sure if she's successful or not. "I thought you didn't like it. Are you okay going outside? Or is it the whole…hiding thing? It's okay because it was dark out?"

Megamind is quiet, though Roxanne can swear she can hear his brain humming away. She keeps petting him, waiting for him to speak. If she keeps petting him, she won't fall asleep.

Eventually he sighs, and his arm around her midriff tightens ever so slightly. "Your balcony is high," he says. "That's all."

She frowns a little. He seemed fine flying earlier. "I didn't know you're afraid of heights."

"I'm not." He sighs. "You know I…went into the drains. I was staying low. Before you found me.

"Thank you for that," he adds, frowning a little against her shoulder. "For bringing me home. I don't think I've said that."

Roxanne smiles. "Best decision I ever made," she whispers, and feels his ribs move when his breathing changes. When she startles him in a good way, he does this thing where he gasps out through his nose, hollowing his chest, and he usually follows it up with a bewildered little smile. It's adorable. She likes doing that to him—partly because she likes surprising him, and partly because she's waiting to see if she can drive the heartsick look out of his eyes.

All he says in response, though, is, "Yes. Yes, agreed! But your apartment isn't low, so. I stay inside." He says this like it's a full explanation, but it isn't, not at all, not really. Roxanne must have conveyed her confusion somehow, because she feels him pause again, and then he says, "I thought, when I left the Lair…I should avoid high places. For a while." He shrugs gently. "So."

That takes a moment to sink in. When it does, Roxanne rolls towards him, wriggling around until she's on her side with one arm under his neck and the other up around him in a fierce hug, her face smushed in with his adam's apple poking into her eye and her lips in the hollow at the base of his throat. Megamind grunts and stiffens, surprised at the flurry of movement and the change in position.

"Okay?" he asks, sounding amused, when Roxanne subsides. He slowly relaxes back against her, slipping his fingers back into her hair—it's become one of his favorite things to do since she'd shown him it was allowed.

"Yup," she says, sounding muffled. "I'm great. I'm awesome. I'm never going to stop hugging you."

Megamind wrinkles his nose, pleased, and tucks his chin over the crown of her head. Her hair tickles, but he's not complaining. "I won't say no to that," he tells her. "But…hang on, come here," and he rolls the rest of the way over onto his back, dragging her with him; his arm had been trapped and she would have woken up with a crick in her neck if they stayed on their sides. As it is, they wind up back where they started—Megamind supine, Roxanne prone, both of them wrapped around each other.

"An' when we get Minion back," she sighs, "everything'll be great. Hard, I mean, for a while," and she yawns again, "but overall great. Hope he's okay. Love you."

It only takes a couple minutes for her grip on him to loosen and her breathing to slow, and Megamind knows she's fallen asleep. He's not far, himself—after his lack of sleep the night before and the emotionally trying day he's had, his body and mind are both pretty well shot. Still, he can't help thinking. It's a blessing and a curse, especially since he seems to have no control over where his mind goes anymore.

If they do get Minion back…

Minion is worth the possibility of losing Roxanne. Megamind isn't even going to try to kid himself about that one. But he wants to be selfish, he wants both, wants both of them so badly he can taste it. He wants Roxanne in his arms and Minion as his strong left hand, and even though the universe loves to make his life hell…even though he can't help but think he'll only be able to keep one of them, he's prepared to fight tooth and nail to keep them both.

He'll do whatever it takes. He will get Minion back by any means necessary—one last machine, one last hurrah, his swansong—and then it's time for a career change. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Roxanne and Metro Man that he can't take the risk of this happening again. Not with Minion. And not with her.

Roxanne wakes early the next morning and finds herself back-to-back with Megamind, his skinny shins tangled in her knees, and she grins as she carefully disentangles herself so she can get out of bed and take a shower without waking him up. He's still dead to the world when she steps back into her bedroom, so, success!

She dresses—jeans and sneakers today, because if she's going to be standing around again, comfy shoes are a must—and then goes back over to where Megamind is curled up his side. In the few minutes she was gone, he'd managed to wrestle the blankets free and turn himself into something resembling a burrito with feet.

Grinning, she reaches out and jiggles a sky-blue leg. "Hey, love. Time to get up." The burrito mumbles a bit and curls its toes at her, and she snorts. "C'mon," she says, then tries tickling one of his webs of loose skin. Now that she knows they're there, it's easy to see the difference.

Megamind yips, then kicks at her and thrashes until his head pops free of the blankets and he can send her a bleary-eyed, reproachful stare. His pupils pin once and there's a film over one of his eyes; it takes her a moment to remember his second set of eyelids, and then he flicks the other nictitating membrane shut and flops back down onto the pillow again without a word, totally forgetting to close his eyes properly.

"I'm going to make coffee," Roxanne tells him.

"Good for you," he mumbles, and he's asleep again, both eyes wide open and glassy. She's lost him.

Oh, well. She decides to let him sleep for now and heads to the kitchen to start making coffee, instead. She's thinking eggs and toast for breakfast, but those will have to come after he's awake.

The coffee grinder twinkles at her invitingly from its corner next to the flour and Roxanne frowns at it for a moment. Then she shrugs to herself and pulls one of the bags of beans out of her freezer. She's got time. It's still only seven or so, after all, and it's not like they're on any kind of official schedule.

Bonus to making fresh coffee: the coffee grinder's crunching whine is enough to wake anyone up, especially since the bedroom door is open. When Roxanne turns from scooping grounds into the coffeemaker, she finds that Megamind has done his silent-materialization thing and is standing in the kitchen with one trouser leg bunched around his knee, his shoulders hunched, barefoot and squinching his eyes against the summer sunlight streaming through the balcony doors.

"Morning, Blinky," Roxanne says brightly. There are pillow-creases on his face. "Sleep good?"

"G'murnin," Megamind mumbles, giving her the curly little smile that means he hasn't quite figured out what he's doing with his face yet. He rocks onto one foot and rucks his pant leg down with his toes. He's still pinning his pupils every couple of seconds while his eyes adjust. "'S coffee yet?"

"Not yet. Shower first, then coffee."

He bobs his head, yawns, and turns to stagger his sleepy self back into the bedroom, singing, "Coffeeee," over his shoulder as he goes.

"Coffeeee," Roxanne sings back, then snorts and bungs the coffee scoop into the sink. Somehow, she will let slip to the press that Metro City's would-be Evil Overlord is an adorably semi-coherent goofball right after he wakes up, because it is a crime that she's the only one seeing this.

Megamind isn't the only alien attracted by the sound of the coffee grinder. There's a tap on the glass doors as the shower kicks on, and then Wayne lets himself in, looking around. "Hey!" he greets her. "I heard a godawful noise and thought it might be you."

"Good morning! You're early," Roxanne observes with a smile. "Something you want to talk about, or are you just here to mooch off us for breakfast?"

"Eh. Both, I guess?" He rubs at the back of his neck. "You…do realize what you're getting into, with him, right?"

Roxanne chuckles. "I know he's a handful," she says, sounding cheerful. "I know this is going to be different. Complicated. Frustrating, sometimes. But he's a sweetheart, he really is. You don't have to worry about me."

"You're…actually not the one I'm worried about."

She turns around and looks at him, her smile fading. He's standing with both feet flat on the ground and a frown rumpling his eyebrows, and after a moment he gives a little sigh and a shrug. "Look," he says, "you got him gloves and he scarpered for three days, but now you're kissing him and he's somehow fine with it?" He raises his eyebrows at her, and okay, maybe that's a fair point.

But, at the same time… "Wayne, he ran off because we were still shaky at that point," Roxanne tells him. "He didn't know if he could trust what I was giving him, he thought…he thought I wanted something from him, he…plus, he was all freaked out about the mental link. He thought as soon as I found out about that, it'd all be gone. You should've heard him when he tried to tell me. It was horrible, he was…" She cuts herself off, shaking her head—Wayne doesn't need to know about that. But she'll probably never be able to get that memory out of her head. Megamind begging her to let him stay. She'd never misread a situation so badly in her life. "I don't ever want to make him feel like that again."

"And Minion?"

She shrugs. "I'm sure I'll always come second to Minion, in some respects. They're tied to each other, after all."

Wayne squints at her. "You're okay with that?"

She blinks up at him, then laughs, amused and confused at his confusion. "Well, yeah. It's…kind of expected, I mean…he's an alien, Wayne. He's as alien as you are. Even if he was human, I wouldn't have signed on if I expected his relationship with Minion to change." She bites her lip, trying to think of something that will reassure him.

Finally, she says, slowly, "Look, I can understand why you're concerned. I know he processes information on a totally different level than I do. He draws conclusions that I wouldn't, and sometimes I don't understand where his head is at." Wayne opens his mouth, and Roxanne hurries forward with, "And I know he has problems relating to people, Wayne. I know he's…sensitive, and he doesn't trust easily. And I'm sure he's scared of losing people he does trust—that would be true even if he was human." Wayne closes his mouth again but he hasn't stopped frowning, and Roxanne frowns back a little. "Precisely none of that changes the fact that he's a caring, wonderful person and I love him. Why are you so worried about this?"

He sends her a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I told you, Roxie, I just feel kind of responsible for him. That's all. It's good to hear you've got your eyes open."

She studies him for a second longer, then shakes herself and grins a little. "Sure. No problem, I guess." She punches his arm—which is to say, she bounces her knuckles off his bicep, then winces and shakes out her fingers—and then turns away to take the bread out of the cupboard and get started making toast. As far as she's concerned, this discussion is over. "As long as you're here, you are having breakfast, right?" She glances back over her shoulder with an odd little gleam in her eye and adds, "Hey, maybe at some point you'll figure out which one of us you're supposed to be protective of."

"Okay, okay, I get it! Sheesh." He makes a face. "And yeah, I'm having breakfast. Eating breakfast is my specialty."

"Okay," he says later, hands on his hips, surveying the machine. "Time travel is my specialty, and I'm saying that's as good as it's gonna get. Let's do this." He nods to himself without waiting for a response from the other two and bends to pick up the harness and start shrugging into it. There's a big red button tied into the criss-crossing ropes on his chest—that's what will trigger the winch mechanism, reeling him backwards across time, through the bridges, when he's ready to come home.

Megamind—who is very much awake now and has been trying not to panic since about halfway through his shower, when his brain had finally started moving again—reaches out and grabs the harness with both hands, making Metro Man pause and blink down at him. "Wait," he says, his eyes flicking from the button to the winch to Metro Man's face and back to the button again. This has been in his head for a while and he's not going to be able to keep it in much longer. "Shouldn't I go? I should go. I…I don't know what Minion is going to do when he sees you, and…"

"You can't go." Metro Man shakes his head and continues tightening the straps. They'd decided against using buckles; with his strength, he'd be liable to break them and render the harness useless. Instead, a complicated system of knots holds everything in place. He's wearing a modified version of his flight suit with no cape, so there won't be any drag, and he's barefoot and barehanded so he won't have to worry about his boots or gloves filling up once he's submerged. "I'm the one who breathes this stuff, right? And I'm the one who can hyper-accelerate. It has to be me. Besides," he adds, "if something goes wrong, I need you here to figure out how to bring me back. Okay?"

Megamind stares at him for a moment, then nods, biting his lip. He hurries over to one of the shelves, where he'd put something that looks like a smallish CB radio with a screen. "So…I've got the tracking device, it should be safe to at least forty feet. I doubt Minion will be much deeper than that." He hands it to Wayne, shows him how to read the screen. It's pretty basic. "I couldn't do much more than a proximity alert on such short notice, I'm sorry. We…we could wait a couple of days, while I get something more sophisticated…or, or a breathing apparatus that works with your respiration systems?" His brow furrows, but his eyes are wide and slightly panicked. "We—should wait. We should. You, you're so heavy, and…and your flight, I don't know if…"

Wayne shakes his head. "Nah, let's get 'er done now." He chuckles. "We wait much longer and I'm gonna lose my nerve."

Megamind stares up at him, his huge forehead wrinkled in unfamiliar concern. "But you can't swim." It's not a question.

"I can fly underwater," Wayne assures him. Then, when Megamind looks extremely doubtful, he says, "I've done it before. I'll be fine, really. Little buddy, I don't need to swim. It's not like this is the Olympics, or anything. I can't hyper-accelerate when I'm submerged, but I can still move quick if I need to. It'll be fine." He grins down at the smaller alien, then bumps him with his elbow, making him stumble. "Hey, what are you, worried? About me?"

Megamind blinks once, then pulls his face into a sneer. "Don't flatter yourself."

Wayne shrugs, rolling his eyes at Roxanne. "Oh, my mistake."

"Yes, your mistake." Megamind flaps his hands at him, swallowing hard as his sneer falls back into a worried frown. He has misgivings about this. Deep misgivings. Metro Man shouldn't be doing this; Megamind should insist they wait, insist they fine-tune the equipment…but there's Minion to consider, and Megamind can't delay any more than he already has without turning into a nervous wreck.

"Now—now turn around, I need to get the winch hooked in. Roxanne, on the shelf by the door, there's a spiky tube, it generates a small containment field…"

It's late fall when Wayne arrives, tumbling into the same room he just left. It's also night, but his little buddy keeps weird hours—or he used to, anyway—so he hyper-accelerates even before he stands up.

He twists his head, trying to look over his shoulder. He can feel the rope tied to his back tugging gently as it plays out behind him, its knot bulging with the stress of keeping up with so many bridges, but he can't see more than maybe two inches of cord. The knot is glowing, but the rope itself isn't actually visible, for the most part.

And of course, it wouldn't be, he realizes after a moment's puzzled thought. Gaussian dissonance, Megamind had said. Right. Well, that'll make things…interesting.

He glances down at the button on his chest. This just means that when he hits it, the bridges will open behind him wherever he is. Time is time is time; it doesn't matter where he is in space. Time doesn't care about stuff like that.

At least he won't have to sneak back into the Lair dripping wet. That's a plus, he supposes.

He exits the Lair and then decelerates, since the proximity alert device won't work in a time-stop. And, as he told Megamind, he can't stay at super-speed in water. Moving like he does twists something subatomic. The water doesn't just boil; it vaporizes instantly, and the heat…

Wayne doesn't remember the evening his parents found out about this. He'd only been three years old at the time, taking a bath, and the searing temperature hadn't done him any damage. His mother was another matter. He hadn't gotten the full story behind her scars until he was nearly seventeen because she hadn't wanted to scare him or have him grow up thinking he was dangerous, but she had been lucky to retain the use of her hands.

Now he floats above Lake Michigan, frowning down at the tracker's screen. Swimming. He really isn't good at swimming, really isn't built for water at all. As he'd told Megamind, he can sort of fly underwater, but actual swimming is out of the question simply because of how massive he is.

Most people use 'massive' to refer to his size, which is accurate, but he's also massive in the sense that he's about as buoyant in water as a ton of brick. It's useful if he wants to dive quickly, but less useful for things like breathing in water deeper than he is tall.

And what he hadn't admitted to Megamind is that flying underwater does bad things to his equilibrium. But that doesn't matter; he likely won't be down long enough for it to cause too much harm. Probably.

He stays in the air as he slowly follows the tracker away from shore until its high-pitched blips blend into a whine, and then he looks down at the gray waves below him. Okay. This will be fine. He can do this, easy, no problemo. Just sink down, grab Minion, hit the button and go home. Easy peasy.

He takes a deep breath, flexes the fingers of the hand that's not holding the tracker. Man, that looks cold, he thinks, and then he points his toes, pinches his nose, cuts his flight, and drops like several hundred pounds of living stone.

This may have been a mistake. The water is freezing in a way air never is, and if he hadn't steeled himself against it, it would have driven all the breath out of him. He'll need all the breath he can get, since he doesn't want to kick his flight in until he absolutely has to—the longer he stays in flight underwater, the harder it will be to ascend.

He sinks straight down, one eye on the screen of the tracker Megamind gave him, calculating depth and trying to remind himself that this was not a mistake, this will all be worth it in the end, this is necessary, he's doing this for Megamind and he'll be fine; the water pressure pushing in on him won't do any lasting damage but he can always hit the button and go home if he really needs to. So his eyes feel like they're about to be squeezed into the back of their sockets, but so what? He'll be fine.

The screen on the tracker cracks at fifty-three feet, but by then, Metro Man can see the bottom. There's a light down there, somewhere. Minion is down there, somewhere, and his lights are reflecting and glimmering in ripples away across the lake floor, glinting off glass shining up from under a layer of silt. Wayne doesn't have time to look around much, but he can see someone built a green-glass mandala on the bottom of the lake, and it's a cry for help if he's ever seen one. It's huge.

At the center of the circle is a tangle of bones. He's not sure what it is and he doesn't care—Minion is crouched to one side of it, all his spines and spots flaring, all his teeth bared, and Minion is the only thing Wayne is here for.

He pulls out the other device Megamind gave him, the containment field, and he points it at Minion, but—nothing happens when he flicks its switch. Okay, then, he'll do this the old-fashioned way.

Minion hisses when Wayne reaches for him, moves his fins in a way that makes an odd squawking sound, scoots back and snaps at Wayne's outstretched hand. Wayne flits forward out of habit—shit, he thinks, as Minion darts away. Now he's in flight.

His lungs are already hurting for air, his heart is thundering in his ears, and now there's something filling up inside him and it hurts, but if he struggles his way to the surface to take a breath, Minion will only flee deeper. And without Megamind's tracking device, Wayne has no chance of finding him again. He's already too deep. It's now or never.

Desperate, he reaches out a third time and snaps his fingers as close to Minion as he can—it creates a small shockwave, just enough to stun. He does know what Minion is made of; they've fought enough times that he knows what the little fish can take. Minion's eyes flinch closed and his lights go out, and Wayne grabs him as gently as he can, considering his blossoming panic. And he finally slaps the button strapped to his chest that will activate the winch and bring him and Minion home.

He brings Minion in against his chest and squeezes his eyes shut as the rope at his back jerks tight. He would have liked to have surfaced first, but his flight chambers are now completely flooded. Surfacing is no longer an option.

Chapter Text

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Back in Evil Lair, a minute drags out and becomes two minutes. Two becomes ten minutes becomes half an hour, and Megamind breaks further apart every second of it, never mind Roxanne whispering to him, It'll work, just be patient, finding Minion might take some time. He thinks of the extra magnesium he'd shredded and insists to himself that everything will be all right, they won't run down the clock…but it's not really the time he's worried about. He's not even really worried about Minion. Minion can handle himself, Megamind knows that better than anyone.

All he can think is—Metro Man can't swim. He was never meant to go underwater; he doesn't even really feel gravity. The only thing keeping him on Earth at all is atmospheric pressure; he belongs in the sky. Megamind knows this.

And flying underwater…

Metro Man doesn't so much fly in the conventional sense as swim through Earth's gravitational field. Gravity exists underwater, but gravity is a subspatial medium and Metro Man's flight systems require a compatible substantial medium—like air—in order for him to breathe. Water is not a comparable substitute for air.

This was a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a mistake.

The Catastrophic Converter roars away behind them, its narrow beam of red light bouncing off the plate in the ceiling and into the receiver dish Megamind wired into the gun.

("Is that my lasers?" Metro Man had asked when Megamind turned it on.

"Don't be ridiculous," Megamind replied, fidgeting, "it's only one laser. You've got two, ha ha."

"You said 'atomic bomb levels of destruction.'"

"Yes. Yes, I did. And can I mention how very grateful I am that you've never used them to their full potential? And-and shall we get this party on the road?")

…This was a mistake.

One hour, seven minutes, and thirty-two seconds after Metro Man vanished into nothing, the time-anchor lets out a shriek and the winch clicks over, spinning the reel. Roxanne gets to her feet. Megamind, sitting on the floor beside her, his face pale and his eyes huge, can't seem to find his knees.

And then water explodes from a perfectly circular space in the middle of the room, blasting back into space with an icy BOOM that has both Roxanne and Megamind twisting reflexively to cover their faces. Lake Michigan strikes the gun full force and plows it backwards, ripping the cords out of the receiver dish and scattering both gun and receiver against the far wall of the room, just as Metro Man crashes backwards out of thin air and washes to his side on the floor under the fall of water to be hauled back against the winch. Megamind is already surging to stop the mechanism; he's not sure when he got his feet under him but the lever is in his fingers and he's lunging against it.

It all takes less than a second, which seems absurdly inappropriate after such tension. The bridges collapse with the shattering gun and the water cuts out with them, and then it's just the Catastrophic Converter's dull roar and the hiss as its beam of red light strikes the floor instead of the receiver dish, scorching lake water into clouds of steam. Luckily, Roxanne is already hunkered by the Converter, twisting at the ocular focus; the red beam stutters to nothing after only a couple seconds, and then there's silence that leaves Megamind's ears ringing. He slowly forces his hands to unclench from around the lever and turn around. Metro Man—

Wayne lies where he'd fallen. Sopping wet and motionless against the winch. Crumpled on his side with his dark hair trailing limp in the inch or so of water on the room's concrete floor.

The noise that comes out of Megamind's mouth is inhuman, a terrified warbling shriek; he explodes back into motion, flinging himself forward and slicing through the harness, shouting at the brainbots to get the winch back against the wall. Then he's on his knees again, hauling in vain at Wayne's shoulder, trying to roll him onto his back as the bots drag the heavy equipment away—and Minion, his eyes shut and his lights dim, tumbles out of Wayne's grasp and onto the floor.

Megamind snarls and scrambles over Wayne's side, picks up Minion, curls halfway around him and cradles him against his chest even as he braces his feet on the floor and shoves his bony shoulder into Wayne's solar plexus. Minion is here, Minion is home, he's unconscious but he's alive alive alive, but Megamind is split between unbearable relief and gut-wrenching fear because Wayne isn't moving. Wayne isn't moving.

He grits his teeth. No, he thinks, biting back a sob. No no no. I didn't sign up for this. This is NOT what I wanted!

Roxanne lurches forward as he curls by his arch-enemy, green eyes wide with fear and fury, teeth bared and muscles bunching under his wet clothes as he slams himself repeatedly against Wayne's ribcage with all his strength. She has to stumble around the two of them in order to push two fingers against Wayne's thick neck—and yes, there's a pulse there, but he clearly isn't breathing.

Megamind chokes off a panicked, shuddering gasp, and bulls his shoulder into Wayne's chest yet again. Roxanne swallows.

"Megamind," she whispers, her voice shaking. She forces herself forward, back around behind him, and she grabs him by the shoulders and tries to pull him back. "Meg…Megamind. Stop. You're going to hurt yourself. His heart's beating, let me just—"

"No!" he lets out another animal snarl and tears out of her grasp, stumbling back to crouch in Metro Man's shadow. "This isn't right! It's not supposed to be a trade!" He whips around on his knees and holds Minion up to her, wide-eyed and close to hysterics. "Take him! Take him! I need my hands."

"I was a lifeguard, just let me—"

"You don't have the diaphrag-m strength!" He thrusts Minion at her, huge brain already counting down the seconds, already well on his way to blind panic. "Take him!" he pleads, and she does, and he spins around again as soon as Minion is safe. "Wayland St. Lawrence Scott!" he screams. "If you die, I will kill you! Don't you dare!" and he grabs Wayne's nose in one hand and his huge chin in the other and starts rescue breaths. He can't get Wayne onto his back—the man weighs an actual ton; even Megamind isn't that strong—so the position is awkward as hell, but he will make. it. work. Years of properly-supported maniacal laughter and dashing everywhere because walking is for losers and swimming without bursting the seal on his gills have given him an absolutely tremendous lung capacity.

Right now, all he can do is pray that it's enough—and—and hope—and breathe—

—and it is, it is; for once in Megamind's useless-pointless-fuckup-excuse of a life, he's enough (there are not enough gods to thank for this; he sends a dizzy expression of purest gratitude to Nicola Tesla and gravity, instead). It only takes four tries before Metro Man suddenly shudders back to life, retching and then vomiting water onto Megamind's legs, but fuck, he could care less about that.

Wayne heaves in half a breath and then gives over to wracking coughs, bracing one hand on the floor and curling around it. He's dimly aware of Megamind kneeling by his head, heedless of the mess, thin hands twisting into his hair and the collar of his flight suit, calling to him in a terrible voice.

"'M okay," he rasps, between coughs, "'m okay."

Megamind's hands and voice are shaking. "I'm calling an ambulance," he says, "you need a hospital. Brainbots—brainbots, get his back free, get the suit open—"

"No hospiddles," Wayne says, struggling to lift himself onto an elbow as two brainbots zip close and slice easily through the white Lycra on his back, cutting all the way down his spine and then retreating. Megamind finally lets go of his wet hair and sits back—his eyes are absolutely enormous—and Wayne eyes him warily, still gulping down air. "No. 'M fine. Minion?"

"You nearly drowned," Megamind shoots back, dragging his features into something resembling a frantic scowl despite the way he's trembling like dune grass in a windstorm. "There's still water in your lungs, you're at risk of…of infection, pneumonia, heart failure—dry drowning—and, and your flight systems, I don't even know—"

"I said I'm fine," Wayne snaps, and shoves himself to sitting. The spongy inhalant siphons above his collarbones bubble water with every breath, and the hollow exhalant siphons on his back are trickling. Megamind retreats somewhat as Wayne's head droops and he focuses on keeping his elbows from giving out.

"Wayne," Roxanne says in a small voice, breaking through his irritation slightly, "you weren't breathing."

He doesn't look up. "Okay, so I'm not fine now," he admits hoarsely, "but I'll be fine. I've had worse than this. Now," and he reaches out to grab the front of Megamind's shirt with a ham-sized hand, "is Minion here too?"

Megamind stares at him, then stammers, "Yes…yes, but he's unconscious," and Wayne lets out a breath that leads to more coughing and releases him, falls back down onto his elbows so he can choke on his relief for a few seconds. Megamind watches. He's almost vibrating with poorly-hidden anxiety as he stammers, "I…have to get him into our tank, but I…you…" He pulls his lip between his teeth and bites down, hard, and glances up and back at Roxanne, who is also at a loss.

"Thank god," Wayne whispers as soon as he has breath for words, and then he pulls a hard inhale and clenches a fist to start to push himself up to his feet. "Okay. I'm coming too."

"No! You! Sit down!" Megamind snarls, leaping up and putting both hands on Metro Man's shoulders, shoving as though he might actually accomplish something. In a manner of speaking, he does; Wayne stops moving out of surprise and stares at him.

Megamind's eyes are totally wild; they're blazing, greener than he's ever seen them in his life before, Of course, yeah, they always look that way when he's stressed; the skin around his eyes gets darker when he's bugging out… But this is entirely new, a whole other level of green. His pupils are pinprick-tiny.

After a moment, when Wayne just sits and stares, he gulps a little and says, in a more moderate tone, "You sit down, you…I'll be right back. Stay. Stay." He casts one last desperate glance at Minion, tells Roxanne, "Be, be careful of his slime layer, it's fragile," and then flees, splashing away down the hall.

Shivering, Roxanne shifts her weight from foot to foot. She looks like she might be resisting the urge to hug Minion to her chest—Wayne feels belatedly bad for manhandling Minion so roughly. Slime layer, he thinks, I should've guessed.

"What happened?" Roxanne asks, sounding stunned, staring at him. "Wayne, it…we didn't think…can you tell me? No, don't talk, you shouldn't…"

"He was too deep," he says quietly, his voice raspy. "I probably should've come back, but I didn't know if we'd get another chance. The tracker crapped out at about fifty feet."

"Deep?" Roxanne asks, appalled. "Fifty feet?"

"Yeah, and you know me and deep water don't get along," he says, and he can't hide how exhausted he sounds. His huge shoulders are starting to shake; ordinarily he's not terribly bothered by cold, but this seems to be going all the way to his bones. Lying down seems like an attractive option, but he really doesn't want to hear Megamind's reaction to coming back and finding him like that. "Minion spooked. And I knew if I left, he'd only go deeper, and I'd never find him again without the tracker, and he'd still be in the lake either way and I'd still have to deal with that." He has to keep talking. If he's talking, he's conscious. "Containment thingy didn't work. So."

Roxanne stares from him to the fish in her arms and doesn't say anything. Wayne heaves in a breath that catches unpleasantly in his inhalant siphons; he sways, blood suddenly pounding in his ears, and swallows a few times until he no longer feels like he's swallowed a boulder made of ice.

"He wouldn't talk," he says. "Maybe he couldn't, I dunno. He kept…it sounded like honking, I guess, and flashing his lights. Some kind of threat display, I think. I had to stun him by clicking my fingers at halfway to super-speed.

"So I, I grabbed him and opened the bridges, but it started taking lake water with us. Like a huge drain. I couldn't…I mean, yeah, I'm invulnerable, but I still gotta breathe." He inhales shakily, careful this time so it doesn't rebound again, and keeps talking. "I blacked out about halfway home. All I could think was…I was gonna die. I was gonna die and I was gonna drop Minion in the middle of the bridge, and-and Blue was gonna lose his mind, all because I wasn't strong enough to just hold my goddamned breath."

"Wayne," Roxanne says, helpless. "No."

He ignores this. "And…then there was all this light and the little guy yelling at me." He gives a bleak chuckle. "I don't think I've ever seen his eyes that big."

"I've never heard him sound like that," she says.

He glances at her. "When you fell," he replies.

"Really?" she asks, and he nods. "I don't think I was awake for that." She pauses, bites her lip again. "He got you breathing again, you know," she tells him, "he…he wasn't about to let you die."

Wayne nods. "I know. I…" He breaks off, distracted, as Megamind comes splashing back flanked by tens of dusty brainbots carrying a huge armchair between them. "Is…isn't that the Comfy Chair?" he asks, frowning.

Megamind waves both hands at him, half-dancing with impatience. "Up! Up!" he cries, and Wayne struggles to his knees. Megamind flicks his hands, directing the brainbots to carry the chair around behind the hero as he declares, "Flight is out of the question; your vulsaeroflux vesicles will be completely shot for the next couple hours while they dry out. But I don't want you straining yourself walking, so the brainbots will carry you. No buts!" he adds, holding up a hand when Wayne opens his mouth. Then he points imperiously at the chair. "Sit!" he commands, and Wayne hauls himself into the chair.

Looking pleased, but still as though he might, at any moment, start screaming incoherently, Megamind turns to Roxanne. "Minion hasn't regained consciousness yet?"

Roxanne shakes her head. "Wayne said he had to stun him. Is he okay for this long out of the water?"

"Oh, he'll be fine. Those two tendrils, there, these are his ventral ganglia but the rest are mostly gas exchange tissue. In water and air. I'll…um, I'll h-have him back, now, please." He's already removed his gloves, and his long hands are gentle in spite of how deeply freaked-out he looks. "So, he's…like me, you know? He can—he can go either way. Thank you for holding him for me."

"Sure," Roxanne stammers. She'd forgotten, almost, how quickly Megamind can talk sometimes. She's not sure right now if Minion is affecting him or if he's just frantic and not thinking about what he's saying, but he certainly sounds more like Old Megamind than he has in a while. "Lead the way, I guess. Oh!" Megamind is already out the door, but another few brainbots have just flitted in carrying blankets. One of them drapes a scratchy wool thing around Roxanne's shoulders. It itches, but it's warm, and Roxanne is glad of it.

"This is degrading," Wayne mutters as his chair lifts off the ground and bumps gently along after Megamind. Roxanne hangs back and walks beside him, confident that the brainbots know where they're going and not wanting to intrude on whatever reunion occurs. "I don't sit." His fingers dig into the arms of the chair hard enough to leave dents. He's never been good at being a passenger.

"Oh, hush," Roxanne tells him. "You can stand to sit for a while."

"There's an oxymoron."

"You're an oxymoron."

"Some kind of moron, anyway," Wayne agrees, leaning gingerly back in the chair and clearing his throat a little. "Yeah, I'm…some kind of fool, that's…that's for sure."

Roxanne looks at him, worried, but says nothing.

They're following Megamind through the Lair again, but now he's moving with purpose and there's a grimly determined light in his eye that Roxanne hasn't seen once in the months he's been living with her. Three flights of gray stairs later, they find themselves in a room that's easily the size of a concert hall with an absolutely massive tank of water taking up the entirety of one wall. There are fish in it and weeds and a floor of stones of all shapes and sizes—she can see one or two that are as big as cars, but the ones on the near side of the tank are mostly fist-sized.

This must be the tank Metro Man was talking about a few days ago. Its lights are on and Roxanne can hear something humming, but most of the room is taken up by huge drums connected by wide pipes and sluices, water rushing through all of them, tall, green marsh plants growing out of a few of the larger drums. It's some kind of filtration system, Roxanne assumes; the tank seems to be in good enough health, which is impressive after a year of looking after itself. Especially considering its size, good lord.

"Aha," Megamind mutters, and crosses quickly to a panel on one wall and starts typing one-handed, cradling Minion against his chest with his other hand, muttering under his breath. "Brainbots. Brainbots…blankets…all the pillows…Minion's exosuit…oh, and a tarp…bring them here. Okay. Okay."

"I can get it," Wayne says, sounding tired, but the glare Megamind sends him actually makes him lean back.

"You don't get anything. I will get it for you," Megamind says flatly. Then he stammers and deflates a bit. "O-only…"

"Okay," Wayne tells him, in no mood to argue. "Okay, look, you go get in the tank, I'll just…I'll call for a change of clothes and I'll go get it and then I'll come right back. Okay?"

"No." Megamind shakes his head. "I'll get in the tank, Metro Man, but the brainbots will bring you anything else you need. You need to rest. You need to stay sitting down." He's tense, not so much glaring as squinting. "Please."

Wayne blinks, but then he finally nods and manages a grin. "I…fine. Sure. I could…I guess I could go for some rest. Yeah. And, uh. It's just Wayne, actually."

Megamind opens his mouth, then closes it and nods, backing away, looking stricken.

"Go," Wayne says, and Megamind whirls and all but runs towards the ladder bolted to the face of the tank.

Roxanne suddenly races after him. "Wait," she pants. "Wait, I'm sorry, please. Just one minute, one more minute and then you can go, just…"

Megamind spins, one hand and one foot on the ladder already, and looks at her. Then he nods jerkily over her shoulder at the hero slowly getting out of the Comfy Chair behind her. "You. Need to make sure he doesn't overdo it, I…if he keels over before I have a chance to say thank you, I'm going to take up necromancy." He scowls, huffs something that might be half a laugh. "You won't like that, I promise!"

Roxanne snorts in spite of herself and nods. "Okay, noted. Just…how does this work?" She reaches out, touches his arm, searching his face for some hint that everything is going to be okay. "Re-bonding with Minion, is there anything I should…?"

Megamind shakes his head. "I don't, I don't know. I don't think so? I linked to you out—out of necessity, but Minion and I…it might take a while to restore fully, but. We should snap back. I'm not sure. I don't know." He shakes his head again. "I don't know. But I, I have to try, I…"

Roxanne gives his arm a reassuring squeeze, but she's biting her lip as she steps back and tugs the blanket tighter around her. "Okay. Good luck."

He nods once, turns towards the ladder.

But then he turns back and jumps down, takes two quick steps to Roxanne, grabs her hand with his free one and pulls her in for an unexpected kiss. Startled, she freezes, then leans into it as much as she can without crushing Minion between them. It's a brief kiss, hard and halfway desperate. She could care less.

"Thank you," Megamind breathes when he breaks away, and rests his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. He squeezes her fingers. "Wait for me? Will you? I don't know how long this will take, but. Wait for me?"

Roxanne gives him a smile and a nod, shoves off his forehead before she backs away. "Yes, I'll wait, I love you, I love you so much," I'm so scared, I don't know what's going to happen, I love you.

Megamind nods and scales the ladder one-handed without slipping once, then drops Minion in the tank and dives in after him, still fully-clothed. Minion sinks quickly, his swim bladder still set at a depth the tank can't accommodate. That's okay. He has a fairly sophisticated internal pressurization system; he should be fine.

And he should revive fairly quickly from his sudden immersion in familiar waters, but Megamind isn't sure yet how the little fish will react to the shock of seeing him. Hell, he's not even sure how he's responding to the shock.

Will Minion even recognize him?

The possibility that he might not is horrible but completely real. Megamind lost a lot. More than he had ever realized. Who knows what Minion lost?

(He's not sure what the sudden disruption of the link felt like to Minion, but to him, it was like something physically breaking. Like the time Wayne accidentally snapped his ulna when they were eleven, but in his head this time, and with silence instead of pain. Almost a whole day had passed before he was able to gather his fractured mind together enough to fully grasp what had happened. He'd spent most of that time stumbling through the Lair, calling for Minion and wondering why he felt so sick until he realized that Minion was gone. And then he had remembered the gun…)

Gritting his teeth, he rolls to float on his back so he can strip down to his briefs as fast as he can, chucking his clothes over the side of the tank to fall thirty feet to the floor with several loud splats. And then he finally, finally flips back over and slides his second eyelids sideways across his eyes, ducks under the water and looks around for Minion—who, thank everything, is here, is home, and that's enough. Whether he remembers or not, it's enough just to have him home.

Sure enough, Minion has already woken up. He's scooting along the rocky bottom of the tank, investigating his surroundings, blinking in dazed confusion.

Megamind gulps, kicks webbed feet and dives, and then winces as he closes his trachea and pulls water over his gills. The first inhale of water always stings when it tears through his airtight seals, but today he doesn't care because the thin trickles of blood make Minion pause and turn.

Minion blinks a couple times and squints up at him, and then his eyes go wide and he grinds his teeth, fins flaring in startled recognition. Megamind whirrs at him and clicks hard, whistling in his wide nasal passages, "It's me, it's me, I'm here," as he dives deeper, flicking his feet and rocketing down to Minion's place among the weeds and stone sculptures. "It's me," he clicks again, arms out, reaching to brush a hand through Minion's ventral ganglia. Minion darts backwards, eyes wide.

Then he grinds his teeth again, but this time he squeals his dorsal fin as well, spinning the stridulation into an incredulous, "Sir?"

"Minion-Minion-Minion," Megamind whistles, sculling with his hands and adjusting his buoyancy as he desperately tries not to choke on the words. "Minion best-fish, Minion greatest-fish in the whole fucking world, Minion, I'm here."

Minion stares at him for a moment longer, and then his bioluminescence strobes once and he flings himself forward into his friend's chest, squeaking and bubbling sobs. "Sir! My Sir!"

Outside the glass, Roxanne can only stand and watch. She can't understand what's being said but she can hear the muffled squeals and chirps as Megamind and Minion chatter back and forth, waving hands and fins in a dance that's probably not even conscious, spinning slowly around one another. Minion is beaming like Roxanne has never seen him, his little body lit up brighter than ever, and Megamind's whole face is alive with joy. They both sound like they're probably crying.

There's a lump in her throat that she can't seem to swallow.

"Here," Metro Man says behind her, and she turns. The thick black blanket he's wrapped in looks very warm and he's holding out a similar one to her, but this one is snowcloud-gray. Gratefully, Roxanne drops the now-wet scratchy woolen thing and bundles the soft dry one around her shoulders. Brainbots are stacking clean pillows and towels—in a surprising variety of colors—on a blue tarp next to the tank, and suddenly all she wants to do is sit down for a while. Looks like Metro Man has the same idea; he's already heading in that direction. His shoulders are rounded down, his steps are unsteady.

"You okay?" she asks, and he nods, then slowly lowers himself onto the tarp with a sigh and grabs a towel, starts scrubbing at his hair. Roxanne bites her lip and watches him, watches how heavy his movements look. "Hey, um…what was that Megamind said earlier, about…about vesicles?"

"My flight's kaput," he says shortly. "I won't be able to get in the air until I'm all dried out. Plus, I'm crazy disoriented, it's…not fun." His hair is as dry as it's going to get, so he leans back against the tank and finally lets his eyes sloop closed. It doesn't help much with the vertigo, since vision isn't the problem, but it's one less input he has to deal with. That's something.

After a moment, Roxanne joins him on the tarp and pulls some blankets over. The way he's sitting, she'll be able to talk to him and watch Megamind and Minion chase each other around the tank at the same time…if she could just figure out what to say.

Then Wayne slowly lowers himself down onto his side, stuffing pillows under his head, and Roxanne's attention snaps back to him. "Hey, talk to me. He also said something about dry drowning; I'm still not sure if we shouldn't call someone."

He waves a tired hand at her. "Stop," he says. "I knew what I might be getting into. 'S not the first time I've had water all up where it shouldn't be." He shrugs. "The passing out was new, but still. I'd do it again."

Roxanne stares at him, stunned, horrified. "Wayne," she protests. "No. No, we wouldn't let you. You almost died."

"Knew he wouldn't let me down," he mumbles.

It's different from what he said the other night—he hates me, I don't know how he'll react—and there's an odd softness in his face that Roxanne hasn't seen before. For a moment, all she can do is stare at him, thinking of all the absurd lengths he's gone to for Megamind's sake. Searching for him when he was missing, doing everything in his extensive power to bring Minion back for him, giving his time, his energy, putting the city on hold for two solid days, putting his own life in considerable danger…

She can hear Megamind more than Minion when he's being shrill, but even that's muffled; there's no way he can hear any of this through the triple-thick reinforced glass. "Wayne," she says again, quietly. "Hey. Why did you do all this?"

Blue-gray eyes slip briefly open at her and his jaw tightens, but all he says is, "You take care of him, Roxie." He closes his eyes again, swallows. "Just…take care of him."

She bites her lip, glances up at Megamind—who seems to be following Minion in an extremely tight steeple chase around several of the larger rocks—and then nods. She'll. Think about this later. "Okay," she says for now, "you got it." Then she leans forward and grabs one of the folded towels. "Hey, can I help at all? Maybe blot at your vents, see if we can get you dried out, some?"

He pauses, then groans and shoves himself back up to sitting, turns so she can reach his back and leans forward to rest his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. His suit is already hanging wide open in the back, which makes it a whole lot easier for Roxanne to see what she's doing.

It's not the first time she's been this close, so she already mostly knows what she's looking for. Like Megamind, not all of Wayne's musculature is analogous to human anatomy. The area of his back where a human would have their latissimus dorsi is split into several distinct muscle groups, with hollow, half-moon vents between each group—this is the part of his respiratory system that allows him to breathe at high altitudes and speeds. All eight of these exhalant siphons are trickling water down his long back into the remains of his already-soaked flight suit. Roxanne blots at his back with the towel a couple times, which makes him jump and flinch but otherwise doesn't seem to do much.

She hesitates. "Okay, um…can you push through these? I mean, can you…blow your nose, sort of, but with your…whatever these are?"

He swallows. "I'll try. Hang on." He flexes, tenses, breathes deep, rolls his shoulders, and water bubbles out of his vents. Roxanne gets most of it with the towel, but she's deeply worried about how soon it's soaked and she has to scramble for another one. Just how waterlogged is he?

"That was good," she says, trying to sound as unconcerned as possible. "You got rid of a lot of water, that time! Again?"

"Sure," he replies, but he sounds like his teeth are clenched. "No problem."

This time, there's a rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest, and the water he glurps up is tinted red. Roxanne freezes, staring at the towel in her hands. "Um…"

"What'sit?"

"I think you're bleeding."

"'M gonna lie down," he mumbles. "'M gonna. Gonna lie down. Jus' for a sec."

She abandons the towel. "I think maybe we better not do that anymore," she whispers as he settles back onto his side, his chest heaving. She scoots closer to him, rubs a hand down his arm. "Wayne, c'mon, you can't go to sleep."

"I'm not sleeping," he says. "Hurts too much. I think…I think this is what pain feels like."

That sets Roxanne back a step until he slits an eye open at her and pulls his lips into a wan sort of smirk, and she realizes he's joking. "Oh. You're awful."

"Heh. Seriously, though, Roxie, ow."

"Hey, are you going to be okay?" She squeezes his shoulder. "Drop the hero act for a sec. Real talk. Do you need a doctor?"

"I'll be fine," he assures her. "Promise. Just need to get a good night's sleep, that's all. I'll dry out and I'll be good as new in the morning."

She rises to a half-crouch so she can peer over him. There's blood at the lips of his siphons, one of which is bleeding badly enough to paint a red trail down to the tarp. "Wayne, please. How do we know you don't have the bends, or…something? You went deep, and you came back up to pressure in no time at all. Literally. That can't be good for you."

He shrugs, then winces. "I wasn't breathing compressed air."

"You might not have to be," she says. "You're an alien. An alien designed for flight."

"I wasn't down long enough to pressurize at depth," he returns. "Roxie, I swear, I'm okay."

She stares at him, lying on his side on Megamind's floor, bleeding from his back and still full of water, too exhausted and dizzy to stay upright. He's not okay. And she's never seen him laid low like this, and it's scary, because usually he's unstoppable, usually he's a goddamned machine. "We should have sent Megamind," she tells him sadly.

"Probably should've," he finally agrees. "But we didn't. It's cool. I'm just glad it worked out okay in the end. Minion's home." He sighs. "All's well that ends well."

Megamind was right: the old bond isn't quite as strong as it was before, but he can feel it tightening; he can feel Minion in his mind, ticking away. On some deep level, he'd recognized Minion's quiet and reached for him.

From what Minion says—if Megamind understands him correctly, that is; neither of them had time to learn much nuance to their languages, but Minion's is especially basic due to his species' lack of internal vocal structures—it's much the same for him. He's found his tongue again, he'd said, and Megamind had laughed at the phrasing, but he supposes it's an accurate enough statement. Minion can't seem to get the hang of speaking English yet; he's using his spines and swim bladder and teeth.

But that's okay, Minion says. He should figure it out again pretty soon.

He had been in the lake, he says, and that's about all there is to Minion's side of the story, at least for now. Megamind doesn't give him too many specifics on his own new life, either—he's not sure how to explain a lot of it—but Minion doesn't really need to be told how very new a life it is.

"I'm worried," Megamind remarks as Roxanne and Metro Man arrange themselves on the floor next to the tank. "Seeing us this way, they've never…"

"Okay, Sir, okay," Minion says reassuringly. He and Megamind have more or less calmed down, at this point, and they've stopped chasing each other around the tank. "The suit, soon," and Megamind looks down at him.

"Minion," he says. "Minion. I don't want you in the suit. I don't want to move."

Minion ascends high enough to bump his shoulder, and allows Megamind to turn and gently put his arms around him.

Megamind adjusts his buoyancy and sinks fully to the stones on the bottom of the tank, where he curls onto his side with both arms and his long body wrapped around Minion, careful not to damage his friend's soft slime coat, which is bruised enough already. "Okay?" he clicks. He can only breathe through one side, but he's not moving too much; his oxygen requirements are met. "This? You and me, for right now? For now. Forget the world."

Minion chuckles at him and wiggles out of his arms, but only so that he can fit himself under Megamind's chin, which is more comfortable. He's not a particularly huggy fish—he's a fish, after all—but at the moment, he's desperately glad to have the contact in spite of how it makes him ache all over. "Okay, Sir."

"I love you," Megamind whistles at him. "Didn't tell you before, much. Should have, I should have, I'm sorry."

Minion pulls away enough that he can turn and stare up at him. Okay, the cuddles are nice, if a little strange, but it's deeply unlike Megamind to be that emotionally articulate.

"I thought I could never tell you again. Minion, my minion, I think I thought you'd always be here." He doesn't know take for granted, but that works. He pauses, and Minion feels him swallow hard. "I'm so sorry."

Stunned, Minion clicks at him to hang on, then focuses on trying to remember how to coordinate the valves and bones in his abdomen that will allow him aquatic English. His own language doesn't have words for this that he knows—it had never needed them; it was passed down the way Megamind's was, genetically, and maybe nuance would have come later but by that time he'd grown out of it and into more human-sounding speech. They both had.

He sputters to himself for a few seconds, focuses on the rhythms singing up and down all along his spine until he manages a hum. Ah. There. "Bird," he finally says, because 'b' and 'r' had given him years of trouble.

Megamind squeals happily at him, whole body clenching with it, then scoots back and flips onto his stomach so he can grin at Minion. "Knew you could! Fast learner, you. Best-fish, smartest-fish! Best-smartest." It's easier to string words together in his language than it is to maintain any kind of grammatical structure. Faster, too.

"Yes. And I love yyyou, too, Sssir." He reaches out and brushes a fin down Megamind's nose, making him twitch and swat at him. "I thought I was going to be alone forever. I know my people were mostly sssolitary, but I missed you." He had built a nest alone. It had sucked, and—

And oh, shit, he'd built a nest alone. That's. Not okay.

He shoves it to the back of his mind before his distress can show on his face. "Missed you a lot," he says.

Megamind pushes water between his teeth in a pained hiss. "Minion. Never again."

"Can't promise," Minion mumbles. This is so surreal, he and Megamind don't talk about this. He's usually willing enough, but Megamind has to be awake for at least three or four days before he ever starts talking like this.

"Can too," Megamind replies, stubborn.

"We always knew you'd die young, S…ir," Minion reminds him, scaling back the hissing with an effort. He tries again, with more success this time, "Supervillains don't die of old age. We've always known that."

"Yes, but…" Megamind trails off with a frown, trying to think of how to say I didn't realize what effect that would have on you. "Yes, but you. This? Never this, no. I can't, I don't want, never." He wrinkles his nose, frustrated. That would be one good thing about getting out of the tank, he thinks ruefully. We could actually have a conversation. I don't even know how to say 'villainy.' Megamind brushes his fingers up and down Minion's dorsal ridge in contemplation, finally settling on, "I don't want bad things for us. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to us. We're…more than this."

There's a shocked pause from Minion, and then he wriggles out so he can see his friend's face and look Megamind in the eye. "Sir," he protests, "when did you finally start believing that? I gave up trying to convince you years ago, and now here you are, convincing me!"

Megamind shrugs, grinning a little, and pushes himself up onto his fingertips. "Not sure."

Minion squints at him. "Why so recently?" he asks, then blinks when Megamind tips his head back and squeak-chatters a watery laugh. "Sir, really! What changed?"

"She." Megamind nods through the glass at Roxanne. "I… We, she, like you and me."

"I don't follow."

Megamind wrinkles his nose and shrugs. He has no words to explain the link.

Minion is quiet for a moment before asking, "Sir, should we surface?"

That makes his brow furrow, and he runs gentle hands over Minion's sides. "Maybe?" Honestly, he's not sure if he can even explain it to Minion in English. "It's okay, it's not important. Stay."

"But I want to know, Sir. This is important. You don't want to be a villain anymore." Minion frowns, twitches away when Megamind reaches towards him again. The contact is nice, but that doesn't mean it isn't overwhelming. "That seems…Sir, that seems like something we should talk about."

"But…okay. Okay." Megamind rolls his eyes and rises to his knees. What Minion wants, Minion gets, at least for now. "She and I, like you and me, like this. Inside. Here." He touches the back of his head.

Minion's eyes go wide and panicked. "You linked with her?"

"I didn't want to," Megamind protests, because Minion looks about as horrified as Megamind himself had felt about the whole thing. "I couldn't stop it! I didn't even know, at first! But she's okay, Minion, she's okay."

Minion's still staring at him. "Does she know?"

Megamind nods hard, urgent. "Yes! She's okay, I said, I said she's okay! She…" He pauses, wanting to say she loves me, but he's not sure how Minion will take that. He decides to leave it for now. "She knew. Before I told her. She was okay."

It's all Minion can do to keep his eyes in his head. If he'd had external ears, he's sure they would have fallen off. "Why?"

That gets another shrug. "I don't know. Something about me being a good…um…living-partner-person."

Minion snorts.

"Hey," Megamind whistle-clicks, mock-wounded, "I am a very good living-partner-person. I do the clothes-cleaning and I do the rooms-cleaning and I cook now…ohhh, laugh, yes, laugh a lot, you think I'm lying. Ha ha, what a funny liar I am." He would fold his arms over his chest if doing so wouldn't pin his gills closed. He puts his hands on his hips instead and tries to glare, but his grin keeps sneaking back and ruining the effect. "Worst fish. Stop laughing."

"I need my exosuit," Minion gasps, "I need it so I'll have sides I can clutch. Oh Sir. Sir. I am not sure where this self-aware sense of humor is coming from, but I like it." He manages to compose himself with an effort. "Well…if you're sure, I suppose I'll take your word for it."

Megamind sticks his tongue out at him, but movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention before he can think of another response. He turns back towards the glass—a squadron of brainbots are flying in with one of the exosuits. Two of the bots are hooked in and running diagnostics; they're flickering green, it's a good sign. They'll be done soon, and then Minion can get out of the tank and get comfortable in his suit, and that's probably for the best.

Except, Megamind doesn't want to get out. He wants Minion next to him, physically, no glass between them—but Minion has never been a huge fan of being touched and Megamind feels a little bit bad about how cuddly he's behaving right now. Minion is a fish; he's happy enough to cuddle when he's in his habitat ball, and he likes the small contact they have when he's being transferred between habitats, but too much skin-to-skin tends to make him jumpy. Nestling under Megamind's chin the way he had, that was entirely new, and probably related to their forced separation.

And Megamind is well aware that Minion does want to get back into his suit.

He glances over at the other two bipeds, but they're still on the tarp and they look quite comfortable on the pillows, so he bites his lip and tries to figure out what he should do next. Minion frowns at him, recognizing the thinking face, then follows his gaze in time to see Roxanne's face light up when she realizes they're looking at her.

That's not something Minion would have expected. He's even more surprised when she gets quickly to her feet and comes over to the tank, puts both hands flat on the glass, and smiles at him. At him. Not Megamind.

Hey, she mouths, searching his face, still wearing that brilliantly excited smile. Hey, Minion, good to—! but he doesn't catch the last part. Oh, well. He smiles back at her anyway, fans his fins at her, does a little flip to show he's pleased to see her as well. Megamind hovers off to one side, beaming, and when Roxanne turns away from Minion…

Well, that's a new face. Minion hasn't seen Megamind look that dazzlingly happy in years.

Roxanne's lips move again. Minion thinks she's asking how Megamind is feeling, and he almost jumps when Megamind squeak-chatters and spins around a couple times, laughing for all he's worth and even managing to blow a small bubble cloud before bringing himself down closer to eye level. Roxanne is laughing, too, leaning on the glass, resting her head against it, and Megamind—

Megamind bends his head and touches foreheads with her through the glass. Miss Ritchi knows about touching foreheads? Minion thinks, and stares until he realizes that it's probably just a reassuring gesture because the glass is between them. Bipeds touch, it's a thing, and this is an acceptable substitute. Ah. Okay.

As the two of them draw away from each other, Roxanne raises her eyebrows at Megamind and lifts a hand to tap on the back of her head near the base of her skull, asking a question with her eyes and not her voice, since the latter will be swallowed by several thousand gallons of water and several inches of glass.

Megamind nods emphatically, grinning, and Roxanne sends him another smile, this one more relieved-looking than the others. "See, Minion?" Megamind says, sounding pleased. "I said she was okay."

"So it would appear, Sir," Minion agrees, and tries to think. It's clear that things have changed since he wound up in the lake with the link broken. Metro Man is here, and Megamind isn't upset about that—far from it; he's actually concerned about their old enemy, Minion can tell from the way he keeps frowning in the hero's direction.

And Roxanne is here, too, and she linked with Megamind, which means she must have spent some amount of time with him…

Megamind has been enamored of Roxanne for years, though he's never done anything about it. Now, it seems, there might be a chance for something to grow. Minion squints at her. Yes, he thinks, I can use this.

Minion is not a social creature, but Megamind very much is, and isolation has never done him any favors. If Minion can get Roxanne to tolerate Megamind's eccentricities for a little while longer, maybe she'll get used to him in a capacity other than just helping him. Maybe Minion can foster an actual friendship between them. If he can get Megamind to reach out to Roxanne in a physical way—the way he sometimes, when he's sick or very tired or distressed, the way he is now, reaches out to Minion—maybe she'll reciprocate. It's certainly worth trying; Minion likes Roxanne, and if he can work towards a life that includes her, he'll take it. Besides, if Roxanne's mind is steady enough to keep Megamind grounded, she's even more relatable to Minion than he's ever realized.

He makes up his mind. Go with the flow, feel out the new dynamic, and if he sees an opportunity to keep Megamind and Roxanne in close proximity to each other, take it. It might take some prodding, but Minion is good at prodding. He flits forward and grins at her, flicks his dorsal spine up and flares his lights a little for her benefit.

Her answering smile this time is quieter, and unexpectedly fond-looking, and she taps her forehead on the glass on his level. Minion is too thrown by that to respond, but Roxanne doesn't seem to mind; she just grins at him and gives him a nod like it's goodbye-for-now and then turns and goes back to the tarp, where she kneels by the horizontal hero.

Metro Man is lying on his side with his back to the tank, his head on a stack of pillows the height of his wide shoulder. The back of his suit has been cut open, and it looks like there might be blood on him.

Minion frowns. "Sir," he says. "Why is Metro Man here?"

"He helped," Megamind says. "Me. Us."

That doesn't help his confusion any. "Why?"

"I don't know," Megamind admits. "But he helped a lot. He knew what happened to you first. He told her; they tried, but I had to help them. He came home after she told me about you, he…hugged me, he said he would help." He pauses, looking troubled. "Anything, he said."

"He hugged you, Sir?" Minion's not sure he'd understood that one correctly, but Megamind nods.

"I think I have more friends than I thought," he says. "And…he brought you back, he…went into the past, he found you. Do you remember?"

Minion does remember, but it's not particularly coherent—just fear/recognition, the feeling of negation, the urge to defend his nest. "Not really," he says, trying to ignore the pricklings of suspicion.

Another nod, and Megamind slips back towards the bottom of the tank, knees first. "I had to make him breathe again when he came back."

Minion spins. "What?" he gasps, and all his half-formed worries scatter in shock. He was thinking nobody does anything that extensive for them without wanting something from them in return, but no, that changes the game entirely. To risk his life like that, that's not something you do because you want something. That would have been out of necessity, spur-of-the-moment, no time to think. "He…what?"

"He wasn't breathing," Megamind repeats, scooting along the glass with a flick of his feet to bring himself closer to Roxanne and…and Wayne, who is his friend, yes, okay, good lord. They're talking, but he can't hear anything they're saying. "I don't know what happened. He went into deep water for us. He almost died. Minion, I don't understand."

After a moment of stunned silence, Minion says weakly, "Well, Sir…I guess we can't hate him anymore, can we?"

Megamind shakes his head. He hasn't hated Wayne for a while. Not really. Not hated. "He's going to teach me…" he pauses, and Minion waits for him to figure out how to express whatever it is he's thinking. "Doing-good, I think."

Heroing? So Megamind isn't just stepping down as a villain, he's…stepping up as a hero? "That will be…interesting, Sir," Minion says. At least it will give him the chance to thank Metro Man for all he'd done. Still.

Megamind hums. "It certainly will," he says, and then he turns, flipping around in the water to face Minion. "Well, what do you think? Stay here, or do you want to get out? It looks like the brainbots are done."

Minion hesitates. He knows Megamind would probably prefer to stay in the tank with him, but…he really would feel much more at home in his exosuit. Steadier on his feet, and safer. Part of him still feels like this is a dream, like he's still in the lake and dreaming with his eyes open again; it will be a while before he feels entirely comfortable in open water again. "I…I think I would like to get out, Sir," he admits. "I'm sorry."

Megamind shakes his head. "Don't be," he says, then grins as if remembering something. "Anything you need, Minion, I got you."

Minion blinks, looking briefly surprised, then gives him a toothy smile. "I love you, too, Sir," he says. And he's not sure why that makes Megamind pull his head back and gape like a fish, but it does, and then the startled expression passes, to be replaced by a thoughtful kind of uncertainty. Minion peers at him but doesn't push; Megamind's thinking face usually means he'll say something when he's ready. So, "Race you to the surface?" he offers, and Megamind blinks at him. Then his wide white smile flashes out and he kicks off the bottom without another word. "Cheater!" Minion cries, "Villain," laughing, and nips at Megamind's ankles all the way up.

Chapter Text

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Roxanne had been expecting Megamind to somehow climb down from the tank carrying Minion to put him back into his suit, but instead, three brainbots detach Minion's dome and carry it up to the mouth of the tank. It's hard to see what's happening up there and hard to hear what either of them is saying, but Megamind's clear laugh rings out shortly before the brainbots come zooming back down with Minion in tow. Things must be more or less okay.

She probably won't have to stand up just yet, then. Good. She has pulled Wayne's head into her lap when she settled back down with him; pins and needles are an even trade for being able to stop actively worrying over him. And he seems to be asleep now, so she's reluctant to move unless she's needed.

The end, she thinks. It's the end, isn't it? Minion is home, Megamind is all smiles…this is exactly what she wanted. She wouldn't trade it for anything.

But life goes on, and there is the small question of what happens next. The whole taking-one-day-at-a-time thing has become sort of a habit, and with the future so uncertain, Roxanne hasn't thought much about where to go from here. As someone who usually plans for every possible contingency, the feeling is…disquieting.

But who knows? Maybe it's good not to have too many expectations. A lot has changed since the last time Minion was in the Lair, and until a few days ago, none of Roxanne's daydreams about Minion coming home included the actual, real prospect of kisses with Megamind. And the number of daydreams that included Wayne dying—or even almost dying—is probably less than zero.

(The best-laid plans of mice and men, she thinks, and then wonders what the rest of the quote is. Does anyone, ever, finish the quote? Does it matter?)

So. Plans. She has none, and maybe that will turn out to be good, but right now it's not terribly reassuring.

She catches herself rubbing at her ear again and puts her hand back down, flexing her jaw as she watches Minion's dome lock down into his exosuit. I'll just keep taking this as it comes, she decides. She forces a yawn, trying again and failing to pop her ears. It's been working out just fine for us so far. Everyone is here. Everyone is okay. I don't have to be worried.

Megamind races down the ladder after Minion, trying to see if he can reach the floor before the brainbots have his friend's dome properly locked into place—he knows he won't be able to, he isn't trying very hard, but he leaps off the ladder while he's still nearly eight feet in the air. He rolls into a half-run, bounces over to Minion, and flings both arms around the gorilla exosuit. Minion stumbles, then grins down at him and pats his back a few times. "Too slow, Sir," he says, and Megamind sticks his tongue out and laughs, dizzy with joy and apprehension, his heart slamming against his ribs. There's a shivery feeling under his lungs that has nothing to do with the Lair's cool temperature or the drafts on his wet skin.

When he steps back, he's still smiling, but he's wearing a line between his eyebrows as he turns to look back at the pair sitting on the tarp. Roxanne has her legs stretched in front of her and her back against the tank's glass, and—ah, Wayne has his head in her lap and his eyes are closed. Okay. That's. That's probably okay.

Megamind swallows hard and hugs his arms across his chest. Thinking is suddenly easier now than it has been in ages, but so much has changed that he still can't see where to begin explaining everything to Minion. Or whether he should try at all! Should he? Now? There's so much. And it's so new. And different. It would—would it be too much? It would be too much. Wouldn't it?

He thinks it might be, but he's thinking a lot of things right now. Like! For example! Wayne's current physical and mental state also need seeing to.

Megamind lifts a hand to his mouth and bites down on his first knuckle, frowning. Wayne seems to be breathing well enough at this point—it will be easier to tell when he gets closer—he'll have to get closer; he has to talk to Roxanne, anyway—and of course, he does want to—no, focus, Megamind, focus! Wayne's strength will cut out if he doesn't get enough oxygen. Right. There's the problem. Problem with not breathing.

It wouldn't be a problem if his various superpowers were actually superpowers, instead of products of his biology. 'Subspatial manipulation of gravitational fields' doesn't have the same ring as 'super-strength,' but it's pretty much the only thing keeping him from being crushed under his own weight on this planet. And if he's having trouble breathing, and it stops working…

That. Would be a problem. Although—

He frowns harder. Yes, he could probably get enough mercury to replicate the chamber the doctors suspended Wayne in when he caught pneumonia back in middle school. Not without raising a number of eyebrows, but he could certainly—oh, or no, wait—hold on, hold on; simplify—he has oxygen tanks upstairs, and the antigravity cuffs are still lying around someplace. Those would be much easier to deal with. Just modify the intergravitational harmonizers on the cuffs to distribute Wayne's subspatial field throughout his displacement, keep him from being squeezed, and then it's only a matter of finding a non-rebreather mask that fits him and feeding him oxygen until his strength is able to reestablish itself. Okay.

Megamind relaxes slightly. Yes, he can do that. If he needs to! He probably doesn't need to! As long as Wayne's invulnerability doesn't short out for too long, he'll probably be all right.

He's not out of the woods yet, though, and. This is still a problem, in fact, because—

"He doesn't look so good, Sir," Minion says, and…yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Wayne doesn't look good.

And Minion is the one saying it. That's also new.

Megamind nods, trying to figure out how to phrase this. "I don't want," he tries, but no, no, that won't work. His next attempt starts with, "I wouldn't feel right if," but that's not really any better. Ugh. Ugh.

"Keep him under observation?" Minion inquires mildly, and Megamind looks up at him, startled. Minion gives him a little smile, then continues, "I agree completely. I'll tell a couple of the brainbots to sneak into Scott Manor—I'm sure they'll be able to find some clothes for him there that haven't been chopped all to pieces."

Megamind blinks twice and then feels his face relax into a grin that's only a little bit shaky around the edges. "Minion, you always know what to do," he says fervently. I'm so glad you're alive, he doesn't say, because he doesn't need to. Definitely not because saying it will probably make him cry and crawl up Minion's exosuit and wrap himself around the glass and just stay up there for a while. Definitely not because it sounds too close to I'm so glad I didn't kill you.

(This is all entirely too much to deal with right now. Or. Ever.)

Minion smiles back and pats his shoulder with a huge metal hand, then stumps off to go confer with the brainbots. Which leaves Megamind to approach Roxanne and Wayne on the tarp. Which he can totally do.

But, man, the hero doesn't look much better up close. Heavy purple shadows are bruising at Wayne's temples and all around his eyes, and the skin near what Megamind can see of his spongy inhalant siphons is inflamed.

Megamind's frown deepens as he stops in front of Roxanne. Wayne has crow's feet. How long have those been there?

Five years for him, he thinks absently. That's one year as far as anyone else is concerned, plus four years' time in subspace—just sleeping—racing from emergency to emergency—four years; who knows how many before that?

"Hey, love," Roxanne says quietly, gazing up at him. "What's the plan?"

He blinks at her, then heaves a sigh and turns around so he can sit down next to her, close. She moves automatically, half-lifting her arm, and Megamind thinks—three things all at the same time: she can't possibly but also yes and fuck it. He cuddles in against her side, pulls his knees to his thin chest, turns his head against her shoulder. "I don't have a plan," he says aloud, and runs his hand down the side of his ribs so the flare of his gills won't catch on Roxanne's damp shirt. She hadn't gotten full-body soaked like he or Wayne had, but she's still wet pretty well through. "The brainbots are getting dry clothes for us," he tells her. "Other than that, I'm playing this by ear." He nods down at Wayne. "How is he?"

"He's pretty insistent that he'll be fine."

"Good. He probably just needs to sleep it off." He makes a grumbling noise under his breath, but can't help smiling when Roxanne's arm closes around him. "He's…basically indestructible. As long as his biological requirements are met."

Wayne stirs. "Thank you, and will you please take his word for it?" He turns his head so he can scowl at Roxanne, who appears nonplussed. "She won't stop worrying over me," he complains, rolling his eyes up and tipping his head even further back to look up at Megamind. His voice is thick; he sounds extremely congested. "I swear, she's convinced I'm gonna die. Megs, buddy, tell her! She listens to you."

Megamind wrinkles his nose a bit at 'buddy'—it doesn't rub him wrong; he's just not sure he'll ever get used to it—and gives a haughty sniff. "Somebody has to worry about you," he says archly, perfectly aware that it's almost the same thing Roxanne told him only a few nights ago. He's also aware that he mostly stopped protesting afterwards. "Probably best if we both do. There's too much of you for just one person to keep track of."

Wayne snorts, incredulous. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're, like, six of me. You're built like a house."

"A brick house," Roxanne adds, grinning. "Drop you in a lake, ploonk, you go straight to the bottom."

"You guys are the worst friends ever," Wayne scoffs. "I dunno why I put up with you."

"Psh," Megamind says, pleased. "You love me."

Wayne glances at him, then rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

Megamind grins and lifts his head so he can lean it against Roxanne's, then nods a little. This is actually sort of pleasant: sitting with her, snarking at Wayne, finally able to rest for a few minutes. He could get used to this. Potentially without the almost-totally-naked part, but he's trying not to think about that too much.

There are a number of things he's trying not to think about, right now. It isn't easy; he's woefully out of practice.

"No plan," Roxanne says softly. "Okay. Yeah, we'll…we'll manage." Her arm around Megamind's shoulders and back tightens, the fingers on his bicep squeeze, she tips her head onto his shoulder and leans on him for a moment.

"Maybe Minion will have a plan," he murmurs. "Minion's really good at those."

"Do we tell him about us?" Roxanne asks, after a moment. "Did you already?"

Megamind shakes his head but doesn't move away from her. "My aquatic vocabulary isn't…it isn't as extensive as I'd like. I didn't mention it. And. I didn't really know how." He hesitates, then blurts, "What do you think we should do?" Asking for third-party advice isn't something he does often, but… "My thinker is out of practice. You're the smartest person I know. Think for me."

Her heart skips a beat at the smartest person, from Megamind. Megamind calling her smartest is probably the best thing she's ever heard. She smiles a little, watches Minion waving his hands at the brainbots clustering around him. "I almost feel like it would be too much, too soon."

Megamind rumples his forehead and makes a small, dissatisfied sound, but it ends on a resigned sigh. "I tend to agree."

"You don't sound too happy about it."

He wriggles his shoulders unhappily, then winces and has to lean away from her a little when one of his gills catches despite his best efforts to keep it shut. "I wanna kiss you," he says as he smooths it closed again, only whining a little bit. "And I—I want—I want to kiss you a lot."

Roxanne chuckles. "Me too," she murmurs, raising a hand to brush her knuckles back and forth on the side of his head. "I'm really—" Megamind makes a noise at that, a trilling little prrpt noise like a cat that's been surprised, and she cuts off, staring at him. He lifts his head and glares up at her.

"Not a word," he warns. "Not one. Word. Don't you dare."

"Was that you?" She's laughing, she can't help it. "You sounded so cute!"

"Yes, yes," he grumbles. "Yes, and if you scratch me behind the ears, I…uh. Didn't think you'd. Actually do it. Stop that."

"Holy guacamole," Wayne mumbles, "get a room, you two."

Megamind sits up, already half-laughing. "Now, you listen to me, you total killjoy—"

Minion turns back towards the tank, feeling pleased with himself. He'd sent several of the faster brainbots over to the manor; they should be back in only a few minutes. He also sent a couple others to go and fetch a change of clothes for Miss Ritchi, and a few more upstairs to find something for Megamind, since Miss Ritchi's clothes are rumpled and dark with water and Megamind's are in several wet puddles on the floor. Miss Ritchi's home is further away, so it will take longer, but at least she's fully clothed, unlike Megamind, who's wearing briefs. Wet briefs! Not even his undersuit! And he, especially, won't want to be exposed like this more than he'll have to be. Gills out and webs in his feet and everything—he won't be comfortable like that at all.

Minion turns. And.

Stops.

Megamind is curled up and making himself small, which Minion isn't surprised to see, but he's curled up with Miss Ritchi. Curled up right up against her, curled up almost naked with her, and tolerating a surprisingly close proximity to his nemesis to boot. And he's—laughing? They both are. Then he says something that makes Metro Man's eyes fly open, makes him lift and roll onto one elbow and turn to point at Megamind and open his mouth to say—something, while Miss Ritchi throws her head back and laughs and laughs, and Megamind chortles through the teeth of his second-best what-you-gonna-do-about-it smile and laughs with his eyes at Metro Man, who scoffs at him and sits up more fully and leans gingerly back against the tank on Miss Ritchi's other side. Miss Ritchi hiccups once, and her laughter subsides to giggles, and—

—her arm is around Megamind, Minion realizes abruptly. Her arm, she has her arm around him; he's beaming and she has her arm around his bare shoulders, her hand is on his skin.

He stares. That's…new. Okay.

Okay, so maybe he won't have to push too hard, after all. God, his heart is in his throat. This is. Entirely too like his dreams, before.

They weren't big dreams. Just…little quiet daydreams in which everything was okay, nothing was going horribly wrong, Megamind was happy and Minion finally found the time to put a garden on the roof—there were lilacs; he knows they're not a rooftop garden plant but it's a fantasy garden so who cares—and Miss Ritchi was usually there, too. Sometimes she would help him fill the bird feeders. And she would teach Megamind how to smile, and he would teach her how to relax. And when it was raining, the three of them would watch old movies. Minion would learn how to crochet.

Maybe it was a silly thing to think about; maybe it was soppy—but what the hell, why not? He's a glutton for punishment.

But. This.

Megamind tends to look excited more often than he looks happy. There's a tired set to his face now that Minion doesn't remember ever seeing before, but his green eyes are dancing and his nose scrunches when he smiles, and this is—beautiful. This isn't anything Minion had ever thought he would see: Miss Ritchi happy and Megamind happy and—

—okay, Metro Man hadn't ever featured in any of his little domestic imaginings, but—there's space! Minion can make space! After today? Oh, yes. Happy Metro Man, too. Sure, yes, okay.

He stares at the odd little tableau, aware that he's staring and totally unable to do anything about it, until one of the brainbots zips up to him sideways and barks. He isn't used to the brainbots, anymore, and he almost jumps out of his dome.

The bot is holding a stack of fabric in all three of its claws—denim and something red; that will be Miss Ritchi's clothes. The idea that Sir's clothes should have arrived first waves a fin, and, sure enough, a quick glance around shows him another brainbot, clutching a bundle of blue and black, hovering by his left shoulder—who knows how long it's been there. Well, if Miss Ritchi's clothes are here, Metro Man's will be along shortly…

Minion takes the clothes from the bots, and swallows. And then he steps forward. He has feet again, and hands, and while his fine motor skills are a little shaky…he's himself again. Okay. Okay.

And he has—these three to thank for bringing him home. Miss Ritchi and Metro Man didn't do it for him, he knows, but that's all right; the net effect is the same.

He approaches and holds the clothing out to his friend, wordless, and Megamind startles and looks up at him, then at what Minion is holding. Blue and black leathers over blue and black spandex, his usual. He blinks, and seems to come back into himself, somewhat—almost seems to stiffen, but he's still grinning when he says, "Ah? Ah. Yes! Good, Minion, you think of everything."

It's true. He does. Partly because it's his job, partly because that's who he is, but mostly because he wouldn't have it any other way.

Megamind stands and takes his clothes, then starts to turn back towards Miss Ritchi for a moment, almost hesitating. But he steps away from instead of towards her, aims a shaky grin up at Minion, and heads off to get dressed.

Roxanne watches him walk away, then blinks when Minion hands her a stack of her own clothing as well—and she's smiling up at him before she can think about it, genuinely touched that he'd thought of her. Minion smiles back, although there's something guarded about his expression.

It nags at her as he leads her over to a sheltered area behind a marsh-planted drum to get changed. God, if she feels cut adrift and at a loss, she can't even begin to imagine what Minion must feel like.

She swallows hard and glances up at him again. "Hey," she says. "Minion. You okay?"

He gives her another smile, but his eyes are tired and—oh, he's doing that sharp-flicking thing he does with his fins when he thinks something's about to go wrong. "Yes, thank you, Miss Ritchi," he replies.

Yes, thank you, Miss Ritchi? Roxanne blinks, stung. Anxious or not, what is she, a stranger? "I'm…really glad you're back," she says. And. Oh shit. She'd intended it to sound welcoming and upbeat; she wasn't expecting it to bring tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. That wasn't the plan at all.

She bites her lips together for a moment and twists her fingers into the folds of clothing she's holding.

"Are," Minion says after a couple seconds of her not going behind the drum to get changed, "are you okay?"

"I…was…I missed you," she says. "I never got to tell you, before—honestly? I don't think I ever really thought about it? But—I'm so glad I know you, Minion; I'm…I'm so glad we're friends." She smiles as best she can, and blinks furiously against the tears, and hopes he can't see her face from this angle.

"I'm glad, too," he says, after a moment. "I…do you…is this where we, um—shake hands?"

"I thought this might be where I ask if I can hug you," she answers, proud of how her voice doesn't shake much. "Is. Is that okay?"

"Oh," he says, sounding stunned. "Oh? Of…of course, Miss Ritchi, yes, of course that's okay." He still looks half-dazed as he leans down.

The metal plates supporting his dome are surprisingly warm. And he had said yes, but she shouldn't—shouldn't wrap both arms around him like this, shouldn't cling with her face turned into the corner between the bottom of the dome and his shoulder—she shouldn't do that, not if he wanted to shake hands originally. She realizes this a second too late when he makes a noise: a high, cut-off sort of sound, tinny this close to the speaker in his chest.

Her mouth is right next to the microphone on his right shoulder, but he can't make out what she mumbles. "What?" he says, feeling rather like a rubber band about to snap. "What?"

"Right?" she says, voice low. "We're friends, right? I don't," here she swallows and puffs a wobbly laugh into the microphone, making him jump, "I don't want to presume, but…" A glance over his shoulder shows him that her knuckles are turning white where she's gripping her opposite wrist, hanging around his neck with half her face mashed against his dome.

…Okay. Okay? This is not something he has any idea what to do with. This isn't—she isn't unconscious; this is—voluntary? Okay, that's okay—

—No, really! It is actually legitimately great; now if he could just figure out what on earth he's supposed to—

Hug back. That's what. Hugging back, like with Sir. Okay yes good great fine. Can do. Hands on back, like so; press, like so—not too hard; if he squeezes too hard, she'll let go, and he's still trying to process this.

He pats her back a couple of times. "We're friends," he says, bewildered. "Of…of course we're friends, Miss Ritchi, if you want to be."

She slides to the ground and smiles up at him, but Minion is good at reading faces and he's pretty sure she's trying not to cry. "Thanks," she says.

Unsure how to reply, he just smiles back, then stares at her back, confused, until she disappears to put on her dry clothes.

The rest of their time at the Lair that night is something of a blur. After the three bipeds are dressed and dry—Metro Man thanked him for the clothes; he literally said, "Thanks, Minion," and it was just the strangest thing Minion had ever heard in his life (Miss Ritchi thanked him, as well, but that's not quite as new; she's always been polite to him)—they head upstairs and poke around the Lair.

Minion stays quiet and says nothing about the mess the place is in. He also doesn't mention the brainbots, which are clearly in deep-clean mode, but he does have to wonder. It looks as though no one has lived here for some time. Megamind doesn't volunteer any information, and Minion doesn't ask.

He doesn't ask. There will be time to talk about the Lair later.

(If he talks about the Lair now, probably also he will have to talk about the lake, and he isn't sure he can do that. If he talks about the lake, everything will be too real and he'll wake up—well, he won't wake up; that would have happened already if it was going to happen at all, but—it's still too close—)

(Minion doesn't say anything about the Lair.)

He also doesn't say anything about Megamind's continuing use of Miss Ritchi's first name. Or the touching, which has stopped now that everyone is on their feet.

He just doesn't say much, in general, to anyone, for a while.

But the brainbots are deep-cleaning everything when they go upstairs. That's rare. When Megamind cleans—if he cleans—he generally prefers to take care of things himself, because while there's a place for everything, that 'place' is usually where he put it down last. His organizational system isn't so much a system as a cumulative idiosyncrasy.

But the brainbots are cleaning, and the Lair is more organized than Minion has seen it in ages, and it's…weird. Everything feels completely detached and dreamlike, cut-off. Brainbots doing laundry?

Well, all right, he decides vaguely, as long as they don't get into the hand-washing.

What unsettles him the most, though, is how thick the dust is in the areas the brainbots haven't visited yet. Megamind hates dust and it's dangerous for the brainbots; if the seals on their cases crack and dust gets into the wrong places, it could kill them. The Lair doesn't get dusty. It just doesn't. They don't let it.

This is doing wonders for his mental state. What is he supposed to do? He's supposed to just…pick up? Pick everything back up where he left it?

Nothing is where he left it. And even if it is, he isn't the one who left it there. Not anymore.

He turns from staring at a notebook that clearly hasn't been touched in several months, opens his mouth open to ask a question, and Miss Ritchi says—

"Look, why don't we all just go home?" She looks from Minion to Megamind, back to Minion, up at Metro Man, back down at Megamind again. "We can tackle everything tomorrow," she suggests.

Megamind perks up and looks relieved at that, and Minion pauses. "Home, Miss Ritchi?" he asks.

Miss Ritchi and Megamind look at him, and then back at each other, and Minion's attention sharpens. The relationship between them has changed, that much was already clear, but how much has it changed?

Finally, Megamind tears his gaze away from her and looks back up at Minion. "Minion. I…haven't lived here at the Lair for…several months."

That explains the dust, if not the disarray.

"He's been living with me," Miss Ritchi adds, smiling tiredly. "It's been fun."

Minion squints, but he can't detect any sign of sarcasm. Huh. Well, there's how the link took hold. Full time? Living with her, she said; not just staying with her, but living. "Okay," he says slowly. "Yes, let's go…home."

"We can stay here, if you prefer," Megamind offers, sober, startling Minion into staring at him. "If you want to stay somewhere familiar."

Minion shakes his head quickly and sends him a reassuring smile to hide his surprise. "No, I'm okay, Sir. We should let the brainbots finish cleaning up."

Metro Man raises his hand. "Hey, if you're all going back to Roxie's place anyway, can I bum a ride? The Hero Express is still kinda grounded."

Megamind glances at him, then away, and shrugs. "Can the Hero Express drive an invisible car?"

Metro Man looks dubious. "I doubt it. I don't…I don't really drive. Much. And right now…"

"He can't drive, he means," Miss Ritchi says.

"Hey, I can drive!" Metro Man puffs himself up, then winces and rounds his shoulders down again. "Just…not now. I'm not even super digging this whole 'upright' thing."

Megamind looks at Minion, who steps back, shaking his head. No. He can't do it. Not driving, not while the car is invisible and probably not even if it's visible; he can barely think straight and this suit isn't his best one; its reflexes probably haven't been tuned in months.

Megamind sighs. "Looks like it's up to me, then."

Minion's heart seizes. His boss is terrifying behind the wheel. "Sir, no," he says, as firmly as he can.

Megamind huffs at him. "Well, if you can't, and he can't, and I can't…" They all look at Miss Ritchi.

She blinks around at them, nonplussed. "I can drive if it's not a stick shift."

"That," says Megamind, "might be a problem."

"No, hang on," Metro Man says, brightening, "I've got an idea!"

"No," Megamind says, immediate, flat. "You aren't allowed to have any more ideas. Your last idea almost ended with you dead on my floor."

"No, no, it'll be great," Metro Man assures him. "You'll love it. I promise."

"I don't love this," Megamind announces from the back seat of the invisible car fifteen minutes later, as it stalls out a third time. "I don't love this at all." Minion's seat is much farther forward than it usually is so Roxanne can both reach the pedals and see the road over the old Hudson's high dashboard, and now the whole car feels off. Megamind wiggles in his seat, trying to settle his seat belt so his shirt doesn't scrape against his open gills, and glances sideways at Minion, who isn't voicing any opinions but who looks deeply skeptical about this whole enterprise. "All in favor of the brawn leaving the ideas-having to the brains of this outfit, say aye."

"I mean, sure," Metro Man says from the front passenger seat, "but I dunno what kinds of ideas Minion usually has."

Megamind rolls his eyes. "Oh, har har, it is to laugh."

"No, both of you shut up, I can do it. Just…" Roxanne puts her tongue between her teeth, then grins when the car coughs to life. "Ha! See? Told you so."

"Okay, great," Metro Man says, leaning his head against the side window and closing his eyes, "now, whenever I say 'clutch,' push the clutch in and let it out slow, like just now." He grips the gear lever. "I'll handle the shifting."

Roxanne looks over at him. "You aren't even watching."

"You just…steer and work the pedals, I'll shift. We got this."

"Why do you know how to shift gears?" Roxanne asks, suspicious.

Metro Man snorts. It's not a particularly heroic sound. "You've seen my father's car collection, right? Been a few years, but it's like riding a bike. Probably."

"We are all going to die," Megamind declares. "We are all going to die, and it will be your fault, and I'm going to say 'I told you so' when it happens."

Metro Man sighs. "Haven't you ever heard of being the bigger person?"

"What, bigger than you?" It's Megamind's turn to snort. "We already covered this; you're like…six of me."

"The high road, then. Clutch."

"Yeah, I'm not the one in this car who can fly aaaand we've stalled again."

"Don't make me turn us around, you two," Roxanne says.

Megamind scrunches his nose, feigning manic bewilderment. "Wouldn't the car have to be moving for that?"

"Sir," Minion admonishes quietly.

"Sorry."

There's quiet for almost a whole minute, and then Metro Man huffs a laugh through his nose. "'M hungryyy," he whines under his breath, "I need to peee."

Evidently this means something to Roxanne, because she starts laughing, too. "You should've gone before we left."

"Are we there yeeet?"

"Wayne, so help me, I will end you."

"But Mo-oom—ow, okay, okay."

She pilots them home at what both Megamind and Metro Man complain is a "snail's pace," although probably for different reasons. Minion squishes himself into the back seat and stays quiet for the most part, content to have Megamind beside him, singing in his mind and complaining loudly in his ears.

From what he can tell, his prickly charge isn't accustomed to having Metro Man in such close quarters, but there's a new undertone to their bickering that Minion thinks might be honestly good-natured. He supposes there must be allowances when your arch-enemy helps you get your best friend back from what must seem like beyond the grave (don't think about that, don't go there). Personally, it'll probably take him some time to work through the all the intricacies of his thoughts on their old enemy, but…he does tentatively approve of this new situation.

The whole night is so surreal. It's like he's stepped into an entirely different universe than the one he left a year ago. Everything is just familiar enough to be reassuring, but it's all so different. Megamind's self-deprecating humor and open consideration aside, everyone is behaving strangely.

For example, when they get to Miss Ritchi's building, she and Megamind hold a hurried discussion in the underground parking garage, and then she turns to Metro Man and says flatly, "You're sleeping on my couch tonight, don't even try to argue."

"I'm too big for your couch," he says, "I'll just get a cab, Roxie, it's fine," which makes her blink at him, then rub the bridge of her nose. The way she's standing with her heels together, the way she tipped her head down for a moment and squared her shoulders…that was a Megamind gesture, that's a Megamind pose. He's never seen Miss Ritchi do that before, but he's seen it from his Sir a million times.

"Wayne," she says, huffing a sigh, and even her tone is Megamind's, "what did I just say?"

"Well, I am."

Megamind rolls his eyes and jumps in before she can say anything else. "You can sleep in the guest bed, then." Good lord, his pacifying and slightly exasperated tone is Miss Ritchi's. This cannot be real. "I washed the sheets a couple days ago," he continues, and Minion does about fifteen catch-twenty-twos in the space of half a breath, "they're clean. A cab," he scoffs under his breath, "honestly. Like any ordinary suspension could handle you."

"That'll work," Miss Ritchi agrees. "And you can sleep in my bed," she tells Megamind. "Minion too, if he's got his…you called it a habitat ball?" she asks, and Megamind nods. "The gorilla suit has too many sharp pieces, but his ball should work just fine. If he wants." She says this last bit while looking reassuringly up at Minion, who is far out of his depth and not the least bit reassured.

"I'm sure there's a ball in the car," Megamind says, "we always have a spare," and he rummages around until he finds it. A couple minutes more, and he has all the supplies he'll need to make the ball habitable.

He shoots a grin up at Minion, and then he and the other two bipeds head for the elevator. Minion keeps pace with them but doesn't say anything. His head is spinning, and he wouldn't mind some further clarification. As pleased as he is that they're thinking of him…will Miss Ritchi also be in her bed?

He considers this.

As strange as it sounds…if he's being honest with himself, he kind of hopes she will be. He knows it's wrong to think that, but—well, come on! It's her bed! Kicking her onto the couch would be rude! Especially when he wouldn't mind sharing. And from what he remembers, her bed is more than big enough to fit two adult humanoids comfortably, and he really would rather share than cause her to move to the sofa.

But he's not sure how Megamind might feel about that. And he's still pretty sure Miss Ritchi wouldn't offer her bed to Megamind to share. Yes, he decided to push them—and they've been living together, there's that—but sleeping together might be a bit much, yet.

We'll tackle that later, he decides after a few moments' bewildered consideration. I'll see what I think we can get away with.

So he troops into the elevator with the three of them, spinning in his bowl to glance behind him as the door closes. It's been a while since he's taken any legitimate routes into the building, and he always used to scope out the access and escape routes first to make sure they're clear. Megamind has griped at him about being a worrywart before and will probably continue to gripe for the rest of his days, but Minion is a nervous person! He can't help it!

Luckily, Miss Ritchi's hallway is deserted when the doors open, and remains so while she unlocks her multiple (ineffective, redundant) deadbolts, and then they're inside and safe, finally.

Minion looks around and stops dead.

Everything looks pretty much the same as he remembers.

There's the red couch, the incongruously umber armchair, the coffee table. The kitchen island with four spindly chairs in which neither he nor Metro Man will ever be able to sit—not that Minion has ever been able to tell the difference between sitting and standing anyway—and the brushed-steel refrigerator with the ice dispenser that has never worked properly.

(The sink isn't dripping, for once. She must have had it fixed.)

And there's the red glass vase by her bedroom door, the pussywillow branches that Minion figures must be decorative because there's no purpose to them that he can see except to look nice.

The art on the walls is the same as the last time he was here, and the plants on her windowsill are the same, if a tiny bit bigger.

(Metro Man goes staggering past and collapses cross-legged on the floor in front of the armchair, then sags gingerly back against it. This barely registers.)

The only difference he can see, other than the non-drippy sink, is the folding screen set up about six feet out from the wall of windows and the end of what looks like a bed poking out from behind it. That must be where Megamind has been sleeping.

Nice view.

Miss Ritchi says something and Metro Man waves a hand at her, but Minion doesn't hear because—the door closes behind him, and—he's inside and—safe, finally, and—

This is where he tucked one of the most important people in his life into bed at least once a month for several years.

This is where he dared to sleep overnight the time Megamind went on a coffee bender and started blasting Cynic through the Lair at two in the morning. Minion hadn't been able to make himself heard or figure out how to shut off the sound system. It was getting later and later, and Megamind was in fine spirits and Minion was exhausted and at his wits' end, so he…just…went to the only place besides the Lair where he knew he would at least be safe, if not welcome. He'd arrived well after Miss Ritchi was asleep and he'd quietly departed long before she woke up, but he was able to get some rest.

He isn't the only one who's slept there on occasion. This is where Minion almost always finds Megamind when he disappears at night and hasn't told Minion where to look for him (curled up in the corner behind Miss Ritchi's television set; Minion doubts Miss Ritchi knows this).

Minion has probably spent more time here at night than he has when the sun was up, and rarely with the lights on, and yet…

And yet this is one of the only places other than the Lair where he's ever felt safe. And there's a stone weighing heavy in his throat, and his soft palate feels fluttery and strange, and his fins feel stiff.

"…?"

He jumps and turns, suddenly realizing that someone was asking a question. "What? Yes?"

Miss Ritchi is peering up at him, concerned. "I said, do you have any preference for dinner?"

Minion blinks at her, then shakes his head and flicks the rigidity out of his fins. "Oh, no, I'll be fine. I only…I'll look through your fridge and rustle something up." He musters a smile. "I'm fine, Miss Ritchi, really, don't worry about me."

"You don't have to do that," Megamind says smoothly, "we're well-stocked here, I know what we're doing. How's pork sound? M—Wayne, you're allergic to…nothing, I think."

"Yep, or you'd have poisoned me already." He doesn't move or open his eyes, and Minion feels a twinge of guilt; he's never seen the hero look so worn-out and uncomfortable.

Then he realizes what Megamind just said. "Pork sounds…great, Sir, but…"

"Oh, don't worry. I've learned some new tricks, Minion!" Megamind grins at him, eyebrows up. He's rubbing hand over hand over hand; well, if Megamind is excited to show him something new, Minion can roll with that. Some things never change.

He goes over to the couch. Sitting is the appropriate thing to do; humans get weird when you're standing and you don't have to be. He's careful as he settles down but the sofa only groans a little, so he supposes it's okay, and then he turns his attention to the kitchen because it's easier than sitting still and quiet and thinking. If this pork thing turns out to be a disaster, he can probably remember his cooking skills well enough to step in. No matter how badly his Sir pouts at him.

But he doesn't have to step in. He sits on the sofa, Wayne tilts his head against the armrest of Miss Ritchi's chair and breathes, and Megamind…

Megamind bounces from cupboard to countertop to cutting board, big knife flashing slowly around various vegetables. At one point, he says something and Miss Ritchi laughs and shoves him, and—he shoves back, grinning slyly at her from under his eyelashes.

His gloves are off, Minion notices, and he realizes with a kind of distant shock that he hasn't seen his Sir with his gloves on once yet tonight. He still seems fine standing hip-to-hip with Miss Ritchi in front of the stove, and she seems fine with him.

The thought had crossed his mind that maybe he won't have to push as hard as he originally anticipated, but now it's looking like he might not have to push at all. Megamind's smiles seem…not wider, but firmer somehow: they seem like they're sticking. Miss Ritchi certainly isn't acting shy around him.

He watches, and wonders, and thinks, Maybe…

Megamind reaches for a bell pepper and goes to carve the stem section out in a circle, the way Roxanne had shown him. He'd cut the onions with no issues, and he knows how to cut the pepper, but…this time he pauses, frowning. Then, instead of carving the top of the pepper off like a pumpkin, he sets it sideways on the cutting board and slices once down across the top so he's left with a topless pepper and a pepper-top with a stem sticking out of it. The stem pops out of the top easily enough, and then he runs his knife around the inside of the pepper so he can easily lift out the seedy middle and throw it away.

He's left with all the pepper and no seeds—so no waste, no mess, and no needing to shake seeds out over the garbage can. Much better.

He grins, breathes a shakily happy sigh. He never would have expected to feel so relieved about troubleshooting a vegetable, but…I'm back.

Over by the stove, where she's fallen to watching the first round of pork strips and cutting the last of the button mushrooms into quarters, Roxanne asks, "So…how does he seem to you?"

He glances up and shrugs, starts slicing the pepper into crunchy green ribbons. "Quiet," he says simply. "Tired. But otherwise okay. He's talking normally again, that's a good sign."

"Does he need anything with his pork?"

Megamind shakes his head. "His optimal diet is as close to totally carnivorous as possible. It's why we're doing his first, before the pan gets all oily and…um. Vegetable…y."

"Right, right." Roxanne nods, returns to what she'd been doing.

After a while, she says, "I'm going to miss you." Megamind glances over at her, startled, and she shrugs a shoulder and doesn't look at him. "You're moving back into the Lair, aren't you? That's your home. Minion's home." She hunches over her knife, bends her head so her bangs fall over her eyes. "So…I'll miss you. You, me, hanging out. You living here."

There's a pause from Megamind, and then he says, "You…could come too. Come home with me."

She sighs. "Megamind."

"I'm serious!" he insists, watching as she turns and forks Minion's dinner onto a plate, and then he quickly ducks around her so he can throw more strips of pork into the pan. "You could. We have more than enough space; you know we do."

Roxanne shakes her head and returns to the mushrooms. "I'd…I'd like that. And thank you. But I can't just move into the Lair."

"Why not?" Megamind says. That doesn't make any sense—first she says she'll miss living together, then she says she can't live with him…but she knows he can't live with her anymore, she knows that. This isn't his home. He has a bed here, but it isn't his home. Minion is his home, and Minion is in the Lair.

But Roxanne is his home, too, he remembers suddenly. But. Roxanne's home is here? Not in the Lair. Not with him in the Lair.

He gulps. "Why aren't you looking at me?"

"Because I'm looking at the mushrooms."

Megamind is quiet for a moment, and then he says, "Look at me."

Roxanne doesn't move. "If I look at you right now, I'll start crying, and I don't want to make Wayne and Minion worry," she says in a matter-of-fact sort of voice. "I'm going to miss this, I really am. And I—"

"Please," he says, low, urgent, not quite touching her arm even though he's halfway ducking around her at this point, trying to catch her eye (that's a new one, trying for eye contact, but he can't be amused) and Roxanne looks at him, her lips pressed together.

"Why?" he says, with a jerky shake of his head. "Why can't you? If you'd like it, then why?"

She rumples her chin and looks quickly back down at the cutting board. "It's different now. That's all."

"We could be different together," he tries, but her expression doesn't change. His stomach twists. "I…Rox…M-Miss…" His whole face scrunches; the formality lodges in his throat and refuses to let him complete it. "I'll miss you, too," he manages. "This. Home with you."

And his heart is—it's tearing down the middle, but—but then she swallows and reaches out, quickly squeezes his hand. "You'll always have a home here," she tells him, and then she turns fully away and starts bringing over the other vegetables while Megamind is still blinking in confusion. "Sorry, I don't…I don't mean to be maudlin!" she says, over-bright and too cheerful. "Minion's back, we should be celebrating!"

After a moment, when he says nothing, she finally adds, "I just…it's going to be really lonely around here without you, that's all."

"I know about lonely," Megamind says, after another pause. "Please. Come to the Lair any…any time. You know where to find me. And—I'll come to you, too. Can I?" He touches her arm again. "You won't be lonely, I won't let you, I'll…I'll always come home to you. If you want me?" She doesn't reply, and Megamind is pretty sure he's about to break into a million pieces.

All he can think is—before, when he snapped at her, when she left in the middle of the night to go for a walk and he waited up for her to return—words had helped, then. He had said everything he thought he shouldn't, and it helped. So he wrenches his shoulders back and drags his head up and tries his best to put words to the hollow fear rising in the back of his throat. "I feel like I'm losing you."

And it—that makes her turn. Suddenly she's blinking at him, looking totally taken aback. That's heartening, but he can't let go of the tension in his shoulders. "Tell me I'm wrong," he says, squeezing his eyes closed. "Tell me I'm stupid? Because I—am—really worried, Roxanne."

She stares at him. He's standing like he expects her to take a swing at him, which is just completely off-base.

Then again. She hadn't been paying attention to his tone earlier, but—oh, shit, yeah, that would have sounded like—crap. She doesn't have the brain for this right now. "You're wrong and stupid," she says. She means for it to sound firm, reassuring; it comes out wobbly, instead. "Do you need a hug?" she asks, but she knows it wasn't the right question even as she's saying it. When Megamind's eyes pop open he looks badly confused and uncertain. "I need a hug," Roxanne says, and—she's proud of herself for not bursting straight into tears when Megamind's gaze flicks involuntarily over to where Wayne is leaning against the chair.

"I need you to give me a hug, please, Megamind," she says, "if you want to. Right now. We'll figure Minion out later, I just—"

Megamind wraps his fist in her shirt and drags her in against him, and Roxanne can breathe.

Okay.

Okay. This is okay. She squeezes his narrow torso, then remembers a second later about his gills—she's going to need more information about those—and twists her hands into the back of his shirt instead, which feels like a safe compromise. God, he's so thin but his arms around her are like steel.

"Sorry," she whispers, turning her face to his long neck and breathing out a shuddering sigh as she tries to get herself under control. "I'm. Being selfish."

"No. Don't." He shakes his head, shifts his grip to hold her tighter. "So, you…do want to continue. This? With me."

"What?" She almost recoils, but stops herself at the last second because, wow, would that ever be a terrible idea. "Yes! Yes, Megamind, for crying out loud, I love you. I told you." And that must have been at least some of what was making him so tense, because he goes totally boneless for a second and then curls into her with redoubled strength, turns his face so his lips are in her hair, makes a softly relieved sound and clenches both fists against her back. Nice going, Roxie, she chides herself, and strokes a hand down his spine. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I just…I can't be doing this right now."

Minion is back; they need to finish linking. I can't be in the way, in your business, that's not…right. That's not fair to either of them. And I want to get this right, she adds silently. It's not like she's lost a piece of her mind the way Megamind did when Minion vanished. She hadn't meant to withdraw and make him worry, but the last thing he needs right now is a crying girlfriend on top of a best friend who basically just came back from the dead.

"I just need to take a few steps back," she says, "that's all."

"Because you want to," Megamind says, sounding totally baffled about the whole thing, "or because you think you should?"

Roxanne hesitates. "It's the right thing to do," is what she finally settles on. "Sweetheart, really, it's—it's fine."

Megamind pulls away and studies her face for a second, frowning. Then he says, abruptly, "Wait here. I need to talk to Minion," and steps back. "It's sticking," he calls over his shoulder as he dodges around the island, heading for the sofa.

"It's…? Oh shit, the pork," Roxanne mumbles, and turns back to the pan, feeling bizarrely cold without him.

At least this gives her a few seconds to try and get her bearings. A glance at the clock on the stove tells her it's not even nine o'clock yet, but she feels like she's just left a club at two in the morning: the world isn't real and she can hardly see straight. God, she'd better not be getting a migraine.

Minion blinks as Megamind all but skids to a halt in front of him.

"Honest answer, Minion," Megamind says. "I'm deferring to you on this one." He's bouncing on the balls of his feet again, but his pointed face is sober.

Minion's brow furrows. "Okay," he says slowly. "What is it?"

"If Roxanne came to live in Evil Lair, with us," Megamind keeps his eyes on Minion's face, "is that something you'd feel positively about?"

This gets a stare.

"I am serious," Megamind adds, fidgeting a little.

Well, all right. Minion has to consider this for a moment. Daydreams are one thing; real life is another matter entirely. Life rarely goes according to plan, in Minion's experience, and life is sharp and hateful.

But he likes Miss Ritchi—cares for her, even. She's never been hateful, not once, not even when a screw that wasn't entirely flush with Minion's shoulder panel tore a hole in her dress. And of course Megamind likes her, and of course the Lair has room. The brainbots might be a concern if it were someone else, but Miss Ritchi has always gotten along well with them.

He tries to think about this from Megamind's point of view. Some companionship might be healthy for him, break up the monotony, and Minion might be having some trouble getting his bearings but he's sure Megamind would be absolutely thrilled if this actually did happen.

One question nags at him enough that he has to ask. "What happens when she moves out?"

Megamind shrugs. "We'll see," he says, and Minion peers at him, but—there's no panic he can see, no disguised worry, so…

So, he nods. "Yes. Then. I think I would feel positively about it."

"May I tell her you wouldn't mind?" Megamind wrinkles his nose. "I might be wrong, but she seems to think you would."

The question catches him by enough surprise that he pulls back and blinks again a few times. He can count the times Megamind has asked 'may I' on the fingers of one hand. "Of…of course, Sir. Do you…think that's something she's likely to want?"

Megamind shrugs, too quickly. "I don't know. Maybe!" Then his attention is back. "You're sure?" He frowns, tips his head a little, taps his thumbs together in front of his chest. "I don't want your answer to be preedicated on the assumption that she'll say no."

"I'm sure, but…" But he would have liked a little bit of warning? But he's too confused to really think clearly about this? Yes, that would be lovely, but logistically speaking, he just has no idea how it would work? "But what about Metro Man?" he asks. "She won't want to move in with us, she…if she moves in with anyone, it's going to be her boyfriend."

"Oh!" Megamind actually jumps. "Oh. Yes. I forgot. You wouldn't know. They aren't together," he says quickly. "They never dated, not really. They're friends, but they aren't…no, Minion, that's not a problem. No problems there."

Well, that's unexpected. Good, though? Is that good? Uncertainty pricks at him; he can't actually decide whether that's good or not, and maybe he'd better not think too hard about all this until he's got his feet under him. Figuratively speaking.

But he's gone this far. "Either way, Sir, I…don't want you to be disappointed, and…" He fumbles, trying to think of a good way to say 'this may be going a bit too far, even if she did just let you hug her.' "She seems to be warming up to you a lot! I'm…simply not sure if she…"

Megamind's lips twitch. "We'll see. Thank you. Best fish."

Oh, whatever. I suppose we will. Minion gives up and gives him a fond little smile and a fin-squeal that makes Wayne jump and snort. Megamind glances over at him, momentarily distracted, but then he shrugs and looks back at Minion with dancing green eyes. "Best," he says again, and then he turns and all but skips back to the kitchen, where Minion can't hear what he says and can't hear Miss Ritchi's response.

But he can see her eyes get big right before she looks over at him. He grins at her as best he can and waves, thinking all the while that this is a totally mad endeavor, what is Sir thinking? Asking her to come live with them right now? It's too soon! She's not going to say yes to this, she might be sort of laughing now and shaking her head at Megamind, and sure, she looks happy enough and she let him hug her before, but on what grounds would she ever want to—

Huh. She doesn't appear to be saying no.

Minion stares. She nods, she smiles, and then she—she hugs Megamind, this time, and his arms go around her so tight and so fast, one hand—one bare hand in her hair, actually in her actual hair, and—oh.

Oh, no, he was wrong. This isn't good; this isn't good at all. This is going to end with Megamind having the biggest broken heart ever. Crap. Shrimp cakes. This…could be sort of bad, actually. Sir's always had a thing for Miss Ritchi, but now it looks like he's actually fallen in love with her. There's no way that won't end in tears.

…Well.

To be fair, there is one way, but it's absurd. Minion should forget all about it, should work on figuring out how to discourage Miss Ritchi from spending too much time with Megamind, should figure out how to encourage Megamind to let her go but for real this time, Sir. Because this wouldn't work.

(But, he remembers, with a sick-dizzy feeling like a punch in the stomach, he lost his right to do that when he abandoned Megamind in the bottom of the lake. Ah. Right. He—built a nest, alone, he defended it and kept it, and—fuck, no, okay (breathe), no, the point is—the point. Is.)

(He has no right to make decisions on Megamind's behalf. That. Is the point.)

(So. He must make this way work, don't look back, it's done—move forward. Always move forward. Don't look back.)

Well, and maybe he's just being selfish. It's certainly possible. Megamind won't be the only one who's hurt when she leaves; Minion likes Miss Ritchi; he really does. It wouldn't be hard to bring her into his nest the same way he has with Megamind. If he's being honest with himself, he's pretty sure he already inadvertently laid the groundwork for it—ages ago, in fact.

He gulps, and feels his fins droop. Great. Wonderful. Superb. If he had a year to plan, maybe then he could manage something, but this…

The odds of anyone wanting to date Megamind are slim to none. The odds that any of the few people who might want to date Megamind will also be open to any kind of platonic bond with Minion are…well, they're just unspeakably low. And the odds that Minion would like anyone else as much as he likes Miss Ritchi are exactly zero.

I'm losing my mind, he thinks, drifting low in his bowl and swimming a tight, anxious circle. Focus, Minion! Focus! Megamind asked her to come to the Lair, and she didn't say no. And they're in Miss Ritchi's apartment, and she's letting Megamind hug her. She even asked to hug Minion, himself, earlier. That's got to count for something, right?

It must. So. He doesn't need to do anything about this right now. But it would be a lot easier to focus if he wasn't glancing up every seven seconds because the light is wrong for forty feet of green, empty water.

Chapter Text

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Roxanne insists they eat dinner in the living room, on their laps. The kitchen chairs won't support Minion or Wayne, she says, and she isn't wrong, so…it isn't entirely a lie, right? It's just that, also, she isn't sure what else to do. Wayne can barely stand, and Minion is entirely a mystery in terms of his habits outside of the regular kidnapping routine.

It's her apartment, so it's her call where everyone goes. But this is all very new, and very fragile, and feels very close to being lost at sea, and eating in the living room is all she can come up with.

(There's a joke to be made, she thinks, about how the chairs are a flimsy excuse—because, literally, their flimsiness is the excuse—but she isn't sure how to make that work without adding to everyone's mental load. So she doesn't mention it.)

Wayne rouses a little when she hands him his plate—he sends her a wan smile, thanks her—but he doesn't make an effort to do much more than pick at his food until Megamind bounces a mushroom off his face and snaps at him to eat something before he falls asleep again, goddammit, I'm not going to tell you twice. He does eat, then, but even just lifting the fork to his mouth looks like it costs him more energy than the food can possibly replenish.

Roxanne watches Megamind for a while, trying to catch his eye, but he mostly looks deep in frustrated thought—frowning, blinking too often, his gaze darting from Minion to Wayne to somewhere in the middle distance and back to Minion and Wayne again. Eventually, Roxanne gives up hoping he'll remember her, and just focuses on trying to work out what has him so nervous.

Minion's physical coordination in his suit leaves something to be desired. He misses the opening at the top of his dome more than once when he's dropping food in. Roxanne notices, pretends not to. She doesn't mention the way Wayne's breath seems to catch when he breathes too deeply. She doesn't mention Megamind's shaking hands.

Plenty for him to be on-edge about. Plenty for her, too, come to think of it. One problem has been laid to rest, and now she has an entirely new set of problems to deal with. And she's tired. She's more tired than she can ever remember being in her life, before.

She had expected Minion's return to make her feel…well, happy, more or less. And it has! It has, definitely, for sure. She meant what she had said to Megamind in the kitchen: Minion is home and they should be celebrating. But this feels less like real happiness and more like she's just glad on Megamind and Minion's combined behalf. She knows she should be happy, and she's honestly decided she is, but she doesn't really feel much of anything either way except relieved and tired. She wants to sleep for a year.

Megamind's just said something. She missed it. "Hm?"

He peers at her, looking quizzical and worried and altogether too beautiful to possibly be real. "Are you okay?"

She arranges her face into a reassuring smile. "I'm just sleepy, that's all," she says. "Long day. I'm fine." He's still frowning, though, so she stands up and gestures at the empty plate on his lap. "You finished eating?"

He glances quickly at her still-mostly-full plate, then nods and passes her his dishes, mumbles something that might be thanks.

She's in the kitchen, then, and she's opening the drawer where she keeps things like tin foil and wax paper. Leftover stir fry goes in the fridge under saran wrap; maybe she'll feel more like eating in the morning. She'll scramble this up with eggs or something—yeah, that'll work.

The sound of the refrigerator door when it closes seems louder than she's used to, and she shakes her head a little, rubs the sinus spaces under her cheekbones, above her eyebrows. I really hope I'm not coming down with something, she thinks again. This would be a fine time to get sick. Her throat doesn't hurt, but she's not sure what else would explain why she feels so off.

There's all this poundingly empty space behind her forehead, like a headache that hasn't decided yet whether it's going to commit to being a really fantastic migraine. She sighs, rolls her shoulders, tips her head from side to side. Rubs the back of her neck, the back of her head.

She doesn't see the troubled glance Minion sends at Megamind. "Sir," he says, quietly enough that she won't hear him from the kitchen.

Megamind is still watching Miss Ritchi, who appears to be staring at her refrigerator, lost in thought. "I don't know," he replies, equally quiet, but he doesn't elaborate.

"Where's she sleeping tonight?"

The question makes him look over again, but he just hesitates and then shakes his head. "I'm not sure. I…I imagine she'll take the sofa."

That's what Minion had expected, based on her phrasing earlier. He frowns. Maybe…

But no, no, Megamind just asked her to live with them. This would be too much. Far too much, far too soon; no matter what else he's decided to try to nudge them into, you don't bring someone the whole flower cart right off the bat. Even Minion knows better than that.

"Are you sure she'll be okay on her own, Sir?" he asks. Megamind pulls back a little and blinks at him, looking surprised, but Minion keeps going before he can reply. "It wouldn't be right if we just…" He grimaces. "I mean…you linked with her, too."

Megamind's thin features pinch. "It wasn't supposed to happen that way," he begins, but Minion shakes his head.

"You can't tell me you regret it," he says, "in the end."

Megamind opens his mouth, then closes it, looking vaguely nauseated. Minion nods. "Why don't I talk to her?" he offers, sounding much more bright and self-assured than he feels. "I haven't had much of a chance to, yet."

This receives a weak-looking smile. "I'll put you in your ball," he says. He makes it a question, and Minion nods.

Putting Minion in his ball is more of a production than Roxanne ever thought it could be. The water has to be the right temperature in order to fully activate some kind of fancy insulation layer in the glass—Minion is warm-blooded, and while his exosuits are equipped with actual heat elements, his habitat ball is not—and then the water also has to be prepped with some kind of fizzy tablets that remind Roxanne of alka-seltzers. And there's some kind of membrane involved. She's not entirely clear on how that works, but Megamind says 'biofiltration' and she doesn't really need to ask for details. The water stays clean and breathable despite the small, enclosed space. 'Biofiltration' seems like an accurate enough descriptor for that kind of thing.

Once the tablets have dissolved and the membrane is fully cleaved to the glass, they have to actually get Minion into the ball, which needs to be done more carefully than usual because his slime layer is already bruised. Megamind is as gentle as he can possibly be, but Minion still can't quite hide his wince when he's picked up.

But then it's finally over and he's in his ball, and wow, it's been a while since he spent any time in here. It's nice, actually, nicer than he was expecting. He spent most of his childhood in the habitat ball; the still water honestly feels safer than anything else has so far.

He yawns, then blinks a bit and looks around. "Brush your teeth, Sir," he says, and Megamind rolls his eyes.

"I am, in fact, an adult, Minion," he says, and he puts Minion on the sofa and flounces off to the bathroom.

Minion looks at Miss Ritchi, who's been sitting on the end of the couch, watching while he and Megamind prepped the habitat ball. Watching, and asking far fewer questions than Minion is accustomed to from her. He takes a deep breath with a swirl of his respiratory ganglia and does his best to try and relax.

He needs answers.

"Miss Ritchi, can we talk?"

She must have been thinking about something else—she inhales and leans back, blinking like she's just woken up. "Sure," she says, turning towards him and rubbing the corners of her eyes. "Sure, of course we can. What's up?"

Minion fidgets, or tries to. He only succeeds in clattering the joints in his exosuit's hands against each other where it's leaning against the wall. Wincing, hoping he at least sounds normal, he asks, "How long has Sir been living here?"

"A couple months." She leans forward, rests her elbows on her knees. "He…wasn't really himself, when I found him. I didn't know what else to do."

Minion watches her carefully. "You took care of him."

"As much as he'd let me. As much as I could." She sighs. "I mean…I didn't know how to help him. Maybe I should have done…more, or…something different, I don't know." She pauses, biting her lip. A distant siren rises up from the street below, and she glances toward her windows, toward the little space she had tried to carve out for Megamind to take, to make his own. "I did my best."

Okay, rephrase. "You cared for him."

Roxanne pulls her attention back to Minion. Studies him for a long few seconds. Then she says, quietly, "He's yours, Minion. Don't worry. I'm not going to come between you."

This is so far from any of Minion's actual concerns that it takes him a few seconds to figure out whether he's heard her correctly. When he does, it's so absurd that he nearly laughs. "You couldn't come between us if you tried," he blurts. "Miss Ritchi, that's not how this—that isn't—I'm not worried about that."

She frowns. "Then…"

"He—cares—more about people than he seems to," Minion says, very quickly. "You, um, you may have noticed. Or not. But he, he bonds very quickly with people," he shouldn't be saying this to Miss Ritchi, he definitely shouldn't be saying this in front of Metro Man, but fuck, whatever, caution to the winds: "And, and he says…he says, now he wants you to come live with us in the Lair, and you…didn't say no?" He swallows. "Have—have you decided anything?"

She raises and lowers one shoulder. "Take it as it comes," she says. "Play it by ear, see what happens. I won't be moving in completely right away, not for a little while, yet." She sends him a small smile. "Minion, you don't have to deal with all this right now. We can leave it a couple days, at least."

He pauses. "Are you sure?"

She nods, still smiling. She looks honest enough; maybe it's just the bright lights that are making her seem so tired and closed-off. "Absolutely! Besides, you—you've got a lot on your plate already."

"Me?" He blinks, then shakes his head and grins at her. "Oh, don't worry about me, Miss Ritchi. I'm right as rain."

Her smile slips a notch. "Of course you are," she replies, and then she isn't smiling at all anymore, and her arm twitches like she had been about to reach out but stopped herself. "Can I manhandle you for a minute?" she asks suddenly, while Minion is still trying to figure out her shift in demeanor. "Would you mind if I picked you up, or…is it okay if I touch the ball?"

He nods before he can stop himself, and she lifts him and half-scoots, half-falls sideways and pulls her legs in. She winds up curled on her side in the corner of the sectional sofa, with her back to the room and Minion squeezed against her stomach. Her lower arm is wrapped up around him, her other arm rests on his ball, elbow crooked, her hand gripping her shoulder near her neck. It shades him, and the darkness is—surprisingly comforting, surprisingly welcome; exactly what he had been trying not to want, and it makes his supraorbital lights burn and his fins feel dangerously fluttery.

"Lord, Minion," she murmurs, her voice humming quiet in the nothing space between his glass and her sternum, "you're home," and she closes her eyes.

This is…not quite the answer Minion had been expecting to gain from this talk. It's an answer, certainly; but what on Earth was the question? Right now, he's not sure of much of anything, except that he wants, he wants, he wants so badly for this to work. He can't even tell what 'this' is, but he knows he wants it to work.

And what he means to say is, Miss Ritchi, can I ask you to let Sir and me stay tomorrow, too, but what comes out is, "Please stay with Sir and me tonight," and that's. Appalling. Mortifying. He didn't just say that, he didn't—that wasn't his voice; he's dreaming again, he would never ask for—yes, he wants, but he knows he shouldn't—shouldn't even want, let alone ask, should never push for so much so soon after Megamind asked her to come and live with them. He didn't. He didn't just say that.

But she opens her eyes and sends him a patently confused expression that makes him want to throw up. "No, I'm sorry," he says quickly, sculling with his fins, frantic to try and explain before her surprise can turn to disgust, "no, I didn't mean, I—I only meant…I'm. Worried. I'm sorry, I…wasn't thinking. Sorry." She doesn't say anything, but she blinks twice and starts to frown, and Minion's stomach flops uncomfortably.

"I, what I mean is, we're doing okay but we're still—fractured, sort of, and I don't know what to do…he feels all wrong and I can't figure out how to—not wrong," he scrambles to correct himself, "not—wrong; that was a poor choice of words but I, I can't wake up at the bottom of the lake again—

"And, and I think it should self-correct? I hope it does but I don't know, I don't know what to—I'm—a fish, or—comparable to a fish. Not even the schooling kind of fish, so I, I was okay on my own, really. Really, I was, but I couldn't stand thinking about him alone, and, I couldn't stand thinking about him at all, I know I built a nest alone but I missed him, he's my family, he's the only family I ever had. I'm a fish, and—" And she's still just staring at him, her jaw slack, her eyes huge; he's babbling and he's just jeopardized everything, everything. Mistake. He gulps, does his best to gather his wits and apologize. Which he should have done in the first place! Come on, Minion, get it together! "I'm sorry, I—please. Please, don't—I'm, I'm sorry, Miss Ritchi, I shouldn't have—"

Her jaw suddenly clenches and her shocked expression slams closed, but when she moves her arm, it's only to grab the blanket off the back of the sofa and throw it over both of them, plunging Minion into more warm darkness.

"What-what are you," he stammers, but she just tucks both arms up around him and splays both hands across his glass, curls even tighter around him and wiggles until they're both wedged as tightly as possible against the back of the sofa. "I, I'm—Miss Ritchi, what—"

"Minion," she says, low and firm as she resettles, "stop. It's okay."

"But—I shouldn't have asked—"

She closes her eyes. "Stop."

He stops, uncertain, upset. After a moment, she swallows hard and gusts a hot breath that fogs on his glass. When she speaks, her voice is thick. "Yes, I cared for him. I care about him. I care about you, too.

"So if you need me to stay—if you ask me to stay—I'll stay as long as I can." She opens her eyes. "Don't apologize for needing help. Don't."

"But I don't need it," he blurts, "I don't need it, I just, I wanted, but I don't need it and I shouldn't have asked you for something like—"

"Since when is literally needing something the only time you can ask for it?" she asks. "Minion, for pete's sake. It's okay."

"But I'm his minion," he insists. "I'm—fine, really, I—this isn't even what I wanted to talk about, I—"

He falters. Miss Ritchi's whole expression has just shifted from confusion to…something else. Pity, he thinks, but he knows that's not right, Miss Ritchi has never been pitying.

"We have time to talk about whatever you want to," she says. Then, "Do you want me to stay tonight?"

"I don't need you to, it's okay," he starts, but she looks at him—so he stops again.

"I didn't ask what you needed," she says. "Do you want me to stay?" He stares at her for a long few seconds, his gold eyes huge, and then his expression sort of—fractures—and he nods. Roxanne gives him a tired smile. "Then I'll stay."

"Why," he says, but she can only shrug.

"You're important to me," she replies. "You're a good friend. I like you."

Minion continues to stare until Megamind's voice makes them both jump.

"Roxanne, bathroom's free!"

She raises her eyebrows at Minion, and he nods quickly, so she pokes her head out from under the blanket. "You took your sweet time," she says.

Megamind vaults over the back of the sofa, jarring it against the floor. "Yep," he agrees, then holds out both hands and wiggles his fingers in a grabby motion. "Gimme Minion."

Roxanne rolls her eyes and looks at Minion, who nods again. So she goes ahead and passes him over.

Megamind grins down at him. "You guys have a good talk?" he asks. Minion opens his mouth to reply, but a tremendous, gargling snore from Wayne cuts him off, making Megamind scowl.

"Oh, for the love of evil," he mutters, glaring over at the wingback. "Hey, big guy! Roust. Bedtime, not chair-time."

Wayne doesn't move; when he sleeps, he sleeps deep. Grumbling, Megamind hands Minion back to Roxanne and peels himself up off the sofa, then trots around the coffee table and hops up on the slumbering hero's knees. He perches there like a mountain goat for a moment, then reaches out and claps twice right in front of Wayne's face before Roxanne can stop him. "Yo!"

Wayne shouts and jumps into the air, then crashes down onto the floor, scattering the wingback across the floor behind him. Megamind staggers backwards, windmilling his arms—Minion shouts, too, and Megamind knows perfectly well he's about to fall and he's going to hit his head on the coffee table if he doesn't twist and catch himself, so—

Roxanne is behind him, bearing him up before he can fall any further. "You dumbass," she snaps in his ear, "didn't you learn anything from waking me up?"

"Obviously not," he says, resisting the urge to turn in her arms and kiss her. "All right, bedtime for Captain Pituitary," he adds, flicking his fingers at Wayne and doing his best to sound annoyed. "Off you go."

"Y'r such a goober," Wayne grumbles, but he hauls himself to his feet with a huge yawn and only a few winces, then stumbles in the direction of the screen without waiting for a response. There's a whump and the groan of wooden slats on metal as he hits the old futon mattress, then another rumbling snore.

"Weirdo." Megamind rolls his eyes, grinning sheepishly at Roxanne, then pauses when he finds her staring at him again. "What?"

She shakes her head. "You're a goofball," she tells him.

Megamind looks scandalized. "First I'm a goober, now I'm a goofball," he says, hands on his hips again. "Which is it? Enlighten me."

Roxanne opens her mouth, but it's Minion who says, "Both, Sir," from his place on the sofa where Roxanne must have dropped him.

Megamind turns his head and blinks down at his friend. Then the corners of his mouth pull into a wry smile and he goes back over to the couch, flops on his stomach and sprawls on it with his arms crossed on the cushions, grinning at Minion and chuckling low in his throat. "Both, huh," he says. "Some minion you are." He puts a finger on Minion's glass, rocks him gently from side to side. "Whose side are you on?"

Minion's answering grin is wide and toothy, but it slips a bit when Megamind puts his forehead suddenly on his arms. "Sir—"

"I'm…gonna brush my teeth, too," Roxanne announces, and she's already gone by the time Megamind lifts onto his elbows to watch her leave.

He bites his lip, suddenly worried. He can't leave Minion alone, but…

"Sir," Minion says again, and he glances down. "Sir, I…I asked her to stay with us tonight."

Megamind stares at him. That will likely help with whatever it is that's bothering Roxanne, and he sure isn't complaining, but it isn't an invitation he was expecting Minion to issue.

"I didn't mean to," Minion admits. "It just…happened. I hope you don't mind."

Megamind grins and tries to relax. "Of course not," he scoffs as he settles back down. "Why would I mind that?"

Minion shrugs. It's a subtle movement without his exosuit, but Megamind knows Minion better than he knows his own hands.

"Minion," he says, in a totally different voice.

"I don't know," Minion says flatly. "I don't know how. It just happened. I didn't know what else to do." He pauses, blinking over at the glass panes of Roxanne's balcony door, where summer rain is clattering down. The clouds from earlier are making good on their promise. It's been an age since he's heard rain.

He sighs. "We aren't who we were."

Megamind looks at him for a moment, then risks a smile. "We'll figure it out, though," he offers, and gives Minion's bowl a gentle pat. "You and me, Minion. We'll be okay."

Minion speaks without thinking. "I don't know if I remember how to be that," he says, and Megamind looks, just for a moment, totally shattered.

But then his expression snaps back together, and he nods. "That's okay, too!" he says quickly, nodding hard and crawling up so he can sit next to his friend. "Minion, if you can't be okay, that's okay! We can figure it out." He smiles again, wide and white and hopeful in the face of Minion's obvious confusion and slightly less obvious regret. "Roxanne will help," he continues. "I know she will. Minion, we'll…we'll be okay. Really. You don't have to remember how. We can learn again. A different way." He swallows. "It isn't like it was, but…but maybe it can be better. Roxanne will help."

Minion looks at him for a long moment, silent. Megamind swallows again. His smile and his gaze both slip away towards the folding screen. "And, and I think…if we asked him, if it came to that, if push came right down to it—I think Met—Wayne would, too."

Megamind is wearing a certain narrow, tight frown that means he either wants something very badly or is actively in pain and trying to hide it, but Minion knows better than to ask outright what's wrong, right now.

Why are you so difficult, he thinks, and immediately feels bad about it. But then, just as suddenly, he thinks, why are you so difficult, and he feels—a little less bad. Neither of them has had it easy, exactly.

"I can't do this alone," he mumbles. He hadn't meant to say it out loud—hadn't meant to think it at all—and he almost panics, because—well, he had meant I'm tired of being the one who's always okay. And he does feel terribly about that, but to his surprise, Megamind suddenly looks deeply relieved.

"But that's what I'm saying, Minion," he says. "I think we don't have to. Do it alone."

Minion blinks at him. "That's good, Sir," he says. "Frankly, I've had enough of it," and Megamind chuckles, wide-eyed and urgently upbeat.

"Me too," he agrees. "Me, too, so have I." Then he sits up straight and nods once more, decisive. "Okay! You, me, and Roxanne. Come on, I'm going to put you in the bed and, and then I'll get Roxanne out of the bathroom, and we'll all try and figure out how to…how to be okay. And if we don't figure it out tonight, we'll…just…" he shrugs, "…try again tomorrow! How's that sound?"

Minion grins at him, relieved, exhausted, full of regret. "Sounds like a plan, Sir."

Roxanne lost her happy face somewhere on the way to the bathroom. She's not sure where she's going to muster the energy to put it back.

She's intruding, no matter what Minion says. Look at Megamind and Minion together for five seconds; it's obvious they're in a world of their own.

It would be easier if it didn't hurt so very badly to look at. Minion is obviously not okay, obviously confused, obviously trying harder than hard to hide it. Roxanne has never, never expected to hurt this way for him. Oh, she likes him just fine; she always has! But the need to hold him—touch foreheads—offer some comfort, any comfort, anything back there had been so overwhelming that it nearly took her breath away.

So: she's intruding. She is.

And all she can think of, as she stares blindly through the mirror and mechanically brushes her teeth, is Megamind. All she can think of is how, back when she found him—alone in the crepuscular half-dusk of a rainy summer evening, soaked through and emaciated, reeling in months-old shock—she had found Megamind and thought, immediately, of Minion. Not of the person in front of her, crying like his heart was ripping itself apart inside his chest, but of Minion.

And she had been stunned to hear what had happened, because Minion couldn't be gone, couldn't be hurt; Minion was a rock, Minion was unbreakable. Megamind without Minion? Unthinkable.

But. That's not right. Not at all. Yes, Minion is strong; he made it through a year without help from anyone and he's come out on the other side of that year shaken but coherent. He puts a lot of energy into making sure he doesn't need help, he's fiercely independent and he's used to feeling needed—but that doesn't make him unbreakable.

He had no one. Megamind, at least, had her for the tail end of this trial—Roxanne's link, such as it was, providing a stable ground for his towering intellect. Minion hadn't been able to link up with anyone. Hadn't been able to talk to anyone. Hadn't, from the sound of things, been able to talk at all.

Megamind. Megamind. But Minion, too, she thinks as she rinses out her mouth and turns, puts her hand on the doorknob.

And Wayne. Wayne almost died. That's. That's a thing that definitely almost happened.

She only realizes she's slid down the door and is sitting on the bathroom floor when she hiccups a sob into the space between her knees. In a daze, she stretches up the wall and flicks the fan on. Hopefully, nobody will hear her and come looking, because the absolute last thing she could stand right now is someone coming and trying to comfort her about something that didn't even happen.

The crying makes sense, she supposes. She's been under a lot of stress lately with the whole…Megamind…everything, and now Minion, and thinking Wayne was dead, and trying not to wonder what the hell will happen to her new romantic relationship because there are more important things to wonder about, Roxanne—wondering if it even counts as a relationship—

She rests her forehead on her knees and squeezes both hands against the back of her neck. Maybe, if she squeezes hard enough, she'll squeeze back into feeling like a real person. This is ridiculous; everything is okay, now! Different, yes, but okay! This is a happy ending; life goes on. Life, for once, goes on; life wins; Minion is alive alive alive and life goes on. She should be over the moon, on cloud nine! Not crying, not like this; she shouldn't be feeling like she's losing everything when the people she loves are right outside the door. She shouldn't be crying at all.

Life goes on. It's just that she doesn't know where it's going on to.

No. Okay, no, this is stupid. She pulls her head up, sniffs hard, shakes herself. Forces herself to stand up, then forces herself to drink some water from the tap, and then…she just…leans on the sink for a while, trying to get her feelings in order.

Until Megamind knocks on the door, then inches it open a crack. "Roxanne?"

She straightens, clearing her throat. "Yeah," she says, too loudly, "yeah, I'm…coming out. Sorry for taking so long."

But Megamind pulls the door open, darts inside, and closes it behind him. "Hi." He quirks an odd-looking grin at her. "I changed my mind. I don't think Minion is okay."

"No," Roxanne says, slowly. "I don't think so, either." She's too tired for this. She's too tired for anything. Megamind better not be expecting her to keep it together, because she is barely, barely together right now.

"But…he's back, at least. You and Wayne were right, it worked." His grin wobbles. "Thank you. For everything. You…you have been so amazing." It sounds like a goodbye, almost, but he's still staring at her with that little smile—wobbly or not, it's there—and big green eyes, and he looks like he's about to fly out of his skin. He lifts his hands in a half-gesture, looking for a moment like he wants to reach for her, but then his long fingers curl inwards. "You…do love me? Still? You meant it, earlier?"

She blinks. "Of course, I meant it," she says, and his whole face relaxes into that heartsick smile. "Are you okay if I spend the night with you two?" She swallows. "I feel…I feel like I should give you space," she explains when he cocks his head, "I mean, you're linked with him, he's…"

He cuts her off. "I linked with you, too."

Roxanne stares at him. "But…"

He takes two steps forward, still holding his hands in front of him without reaching for her. "It shouldn't have happened like it did," he says, "but here we are, and the old link should settle down soon. So, it'll be okay. I think.

"When you said I can touch you," he adds, his brow furrowing a little, "is that still okay? I didn't ask, earlier, but…"

She startles. "Megamind, yes, it's fine, why wouldn't it be?"

"Oh good," he breathes, and takes another step, and suddenly he's got one hand in her hair and the other brushing her cheek, the curve of her jaw. "Oh. Good. Okay. Are you okay? And I can kiss you? Again?"

Her lips tug into a tiny smile. She has to wonder, in spite of the situation, if he'll ever stop being so fascinated with her hair. "If you want to," she says. "I'm…kind of a mess, right now."

Megamind's eyelids lower to half-mast but he's still wearing that little twitchy grin. "You're my mess, though," he says flatly, and then he tugs her in against him, slides the hand in her hair down to touch her cheek as he turns his head to bring their mouths together.

And there's something inexplicably comforting in how he stands, how he holds himself and holds her. Roxanne isn't sure she can put her finger on it, especially considering how small he really is—she'll never not be surprised at how small he is, while still managing to be so much larger than life—but maybe it's how, when he closes his arms around her and cups her head in one hand and clenches the other against her back, she feels the strength in his wiry frame as an odd counterpoint to how absolutely gentle he is.

This feels safe. It feels right. And the only reason she pulls out of the kiss is so she can wrap both arms around his narrow body and bury her face against his neck and hold him as tightly as she can.

He stiffens for a moment, then relaxes against her with something like a purr as he turns his head and sticks his nose in her ear. "I love you," he says softly. "I love you. I have for ages. I can't believe you're letting me have this, I can't believe you're here, with me. I can't believe it." He puffs a laugh that raises goose bumps all down Roxanne's left side. "I can't believe I'm saying all this and you aren't…I don't know, punching me, or something," he says with another little laugh, pulling away a little so he can see her face, search her eyes. He keeps his arms up around her, keeps the whole lithe length of him flush against her. "You're amazing. Thank you for taking the time for me. I couldn't be there for you the way you've been for me, these past few months, but I want to try, and…Minion does want this, too." He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, but there's a kind of fear behind them. "He said he's had enough of being alone, and so have I."

"So have I," Roxanne echoes, and jostles him back so she can see him better. "Megamind, you don't have to thank me."

"I do, though." He glances down. "You could have left me," he says, "where you found me. I wouldn't have blamed you."

She stares at him, not breathing, and then— "You should have," she snaps, sharp because her heart is skipping every other beat and breaking on every third. "You should have blamed me if I'd done that; don't…don't thank me for being a decent person, don't thank me for—"

"I could have killed you," he cuts her off, stepping back and moving his hands to her shoulders. "I could have killed you nineteen and a half times, I interrupted your life countless others, put demands on your time, refused to let you live your life unmolested—"

"Megamind, that's not—"

"—for years! True or false, Roxanne?" He squeezes her shoulders, stares into her eyes. "I've hurt you. I have. Haven't I. True or false?"

She wets her lips. "True," she admits, and Megamind nods frantically.

"True," he repeats. "I…true. But. In spite of this. In spite of the…the blood and the tears and everything I've ever done to you…you worried. For me." He stares at her, breathing shallowly, and then he gives a sharp little shrug. "That's…incredible! Also, kind of disturbing. Mostly incredible. I'm—nothing much, I've never done anything, much, worth anything," he jerks his head sideways, "but you came and found me anyway. And—you—took me home, you let me stay, you turned your life upside down for me, you let me sleep in your bed, you let me…you let me touch you, and—"

"Megamind," Roxanne tries to interrupt, because half-sick or not, foggy-headed or not, she really does take issue with I'm nothing much. But he keeps going.

"You gave me keys," he says desperately. He hasn't broken eye contact, not once, but he's breathing harder. "You gave me keys, you let me in, you gave me a home when I couldn't go back to mine; I—Roxanne, please, please understand, I'm not…good with words. But you're—you didn't have to do any of this. You could have left me where you found me. But you didn't. And I—don't cry—"

Roxanne shakes her head, opens her mouth, and realizes she has no words. So she closes her mouth again and sends him a tremulous smile instead, then takes his face in her hands and kisses him—not on the mouth, but on the forehead, even though she has to stand on her toes to do it. When she settles back onto her heels, it's with both arms around his neck.

"Someday," she finally murmurs, "I'm going to figure out how to explain just how absolutely, breathtakingly wonderful you are. I love you." She squeezes her eyes closed. "I love you so much. We'll figure Minion out. Together."

He ducks his head in at her, nuzzles against her temple. "Yes," he says, "yes together. Yes together, always, yes. That's what I told him," he adds, "we'll figure it out together. I'm not going anywhere. Ever. Always be right here, always, as long as you'll have me."

"Good," she replies, arms around him. She presses her mouth to the curve of his shoulder, drips tears into his shirt where he won't see. "Good. Same here."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, because I really am pretty sure you're stuck with me." He smiles tremulously. "At least for now. I won't say you're mine, but I'm definitely yours. I'm yours and I'm not easy to get rid of. I'm like…feet-smell. I linger."

She chuckles against his shoulder. "And Minion?" she asks. "Does he linger?"

"I don't know how to explain what Minion does." He shakes his head. "Don't worry about him. Minion was on board with you even before…before." He tugs himself backwards, puts a hand on her chin and moves her head so he can stare at her, pleading with his whole face. "Trust me. Please. We're both…out of it, right now, and it's not fair of us to ask you for more, after everything you've done, but…" He swallows. "Wait for me?" he asks, as he had before. "I'll always come home to you."

Fuck it, Roxanne thinks, fuck what I 'should' do and just go with what feels right. She nods, and then she kisses him, licking into his mouth and kissing him until he's gasping, until she feels him melt into her, open to her, and she only stops when she realizes there are tears on his cheeks. "What?" she asks, pulling back in alarm. "What's wrong?"

Megamind shakes his head. "Both," he says thickly. "Minion's back, and—and you love me, and…I'm not sure what else I could possibly want."

"Critical acclaim?" she guesses, and he snorts at her and curls his mouth into a damp smile. She strokes a thumb over his cheek, grinning now, herself. "I'm glad. It's good to hear you talking like you again." She laughs a little. "'Bedtime for Captain Pituitary'?"

"Well, he is! He's huge." She shakes her head, and Megamind's eyes crinkle at the corners. He takes her hands again and gives a gentle tug. "C'mon. Bedtime for us, too."

They wind up on their sides, forehead to forehead, with Minion between them. At first, Roxanne isn't quite sure about this—it puts her on the same level as Megamind—but she's starting to understand there's more at play here than she knows, so she doesn't protest. And, honestly, it's a relief. There's something inexplicably calming about Minion's sleepy glow, and his habitat ball, when it's against Megamind's chest, is just the right size. This works. This fits.

"Fill me in, please, somebody?" Minion asks, as they're settling down. "How did this happen?"

So Roxanne rallies, elaborates a bit more on how she had found Megamind that evening a few months ago, dripping wet and incoherent. Megamind mostly glosses over the months he spent at the Lair prior to that, trying to kick his brain back into gear and figure out what went wrong so he could try and get Minion back. He suspects Minion doesn't want to hear about that part, so he focuses instead on Roxanne and the home she made for him with her. The gloves she brought him. His desperate confusion about the mental link.

"…So understanding, I never thought she would react so well," he says. "She picked up the concept right away; I didn't even have to explain."

Roxanne shrugs. "You had already said something about being linked to Minion," she points out through a yawn. "It wasn't that big of a jump. Which is good, because I'm not sure you could have explained it. You were so worked up…"

Minion doesn't comment or ask very many questions. He's content to listen. He's not sure he'll ever fully process his surprise at the reasoning behind Roxanne's initial offer of hospitality ("I couldn't just leave him out there" isn't a reason), so he focuses instead on the wash of conversation: the gentle back-and-forth storytelling, the good-natured, sleepy squabbling over who did what first and whose actions led to this or that effect. It's unfamiliar but it's so familiar; he's never had this before in his life but it feels like the best kind of déjà vu.

He dozes at times, listening to the link along his spine. Megamind's singing still hasn't settled into its old pattern, which worries him, but at least it's less dissonant now than it was earlier…

He opens his eyes to silence and darkness and weeds curling at the corners of his vision, and he stridulates on reflex, dismayed. No—

"Minion?" The voice is higher than Megamind's, rough at the edges. The speaker stirs behind him, shuffling around and spinning his ball a little as the sheet tugs out from under him. Minion twists in his bowl, trying to hold himself steady so he can see who's talking, figure out what's happening—he sees short hair and a square face, big blue eyes blinking back at him. "Min…Minion. Hey. You okay?"

Ah. It's Miss Ritchi. Right. That's right. That's all right, but it still takes him a moment to gather his tongue. "Yyyes," he says. "Yes, I…I think so." He stares at her and swallows. Megamind has rolled over; he's on his back now, with his face turned away. Roxanne has shoved herself up onto her elbows, but from the angle she's looking at him, it seems she rolled away in the night, too. "I was remembering," he hears himself say.

She yawns, turns more fully towards him. He's not sure how long he was asleep. "You want to wake him up?"

Yes. "No. He doesn't sleep enough as it is."

That gets him a smile. "True," she agrees. And then she…she flops onto her side and scoots closer, wiggling around under blankets and sheets, flapping a hand around until she connects with his ball. "Okay, come here, I'm gonna figure out how to cuddle you if it kills me. Is th-tha-hat…" She stutters a little bit through another yawn before finishing, "Is that okay?"

"I don't mind being touched when I'm in my ball." He's too disoriented by his dreams and the unfamiliar consideration to figure out a proper response. "Just in person."

"Yay. So, let's try…" She settles with him braced against her pillow and Megamind's shoulder and the side of his head, which puts Minion high enough up on the bed that she's able to lean her temple against it. "How's this?"

"Fine, Miss Ritchi, thank you."

She aims a tired, lopsided smile at the ceiling. "You can call me Roxanne, you know. If you want to."

Minion blinks at her, bewildered.

"Did I wake you up?" she asks, after a moment with no response. "I thrash around at night, sometimes."

Minion realizes he's staring and startles out of it, shakes his head, summons a response. "No. It wasn't you. I was remembering. It was unpleasant." Roxanne makes a sympathetic noise and nods a little, rubbing the glass with her head, and Minion swallows and slicks his fins to his sides, sinks in his bowl.

Maybe, he thinks, maybe it will be okay if he talks to her for a while.

"I made a nest," he whispers. Get it out there, admit it; just admit it. "I. Gathered. My found things, I. Made a nest. Rings of bottles."

"Water bottles?"

"Glass. Green, mostly." He shivers, huddles closer to her. "I made a nest," he says again. He doesn't want to talk about this. Doesn't want to even think about it, green shimmering patterns on the stony silty lakebottom. His home is here, now, everything is okay again. "I. Made a nest. By myself."

"It's okay," she says gently, and lifts a hand to rub her knuckles against his ball.

"It's not." He rumples his face, wretched. "I didn't want it. I wanted to go home; I didn't want to make a new one. I didn't want to. I wanted to go home."

Roxanne hears the tremor in his voice, and she rolls and reaches up to pull him down against her chest, curling up on her side with her knees in Megamind's side and her hand splayed over Minion's glass, sort of the way she held him earlier that evening. "Hey," she whispers. "I know. You're home now."

"But I made a new one," he says. "I made a nest, I nested. Me. I made a nest."

Okay, there's clearly something going on here. Roxanne isn't sure what a nest means, but it evidently has a lot of significance to him. "Are nests permanent?" she asks, before Minion can repeat himself again. His tone is a little too urgent for her liking.

"I…yes?" He sounds a little uncertain. "They're supposed to be. I think."

She swallows. "Well…but you made a new one once. You can make a new one again."

"But I didn't want to make a new one at all!" he exclaims. "I didn't mean to, I didn't want to," and then he snaps his mouth and his eyes shut, his fins going rigid. Behind him, Megamind shifts and mutters something, and Roxanne rubs Minion's ball, attempting to calm him without much success.

"Minion, Minion, hey…hey, okay." She clutches him against her, presses her lips and then her forehead to his glass, wishing she could offer better comfort to a sobbing fish in the middle of the night. "Okay, it's okay, let it out. I've got you." His ball is smooth under her fingers, and she hums a little nonsense tune in the hopes it will give him something to focus on. When Minion cries, it's silent, both eyes squeezed closed, with his jaw jutted forward and all his fins shivering, and it's awful.

Doubly awful because she doesn't know how to help. She doesn't know what Minion would find reassuring, what kind of platitudes he'll accept right now or which actions he might reject. All she can do is hug him against her and hum at him. "Hey," she murmurs again, after a while. "You know I've got you. Megamind's right here, I'm right here, Wayne is right outside."

"I don't understand," Minion grits out, breathy and half-choked. "Why are you. Why is he. I don't. Understand. Why."

"Neither do I," Roxanne replies. "But I…I care about Megamind. I do. And I care about you, too, so I'm here."

"Metro Man doesn't."

Roxanne has her own thoughts about that, but she's keeping them to herself, for now. "Minion, seriously, it's okay. You're safe. We will figure this out together, okay?"

"I didn't mean to but I couldn't think," he says. "I couldn't. Think. I couldn't think, couldn't think. Not the way I needed to."

"I know. Minion, I know." Roxanne grips him hard. "Neither could he, sort of. But it's never going to happen again, do you understand?"

Minion nods. He does understand that. If the gun hasn't been fully dismantled by the time they get back to the Lair, he'll personally chuck it into the deepest depths of Lake Michigan. Let time and water take care of it.

Roxanne is humming again, the same looping little tune as before. He's not sure what it is, but it's nice. Repetitive. It actually harmonizes rather well with Megamind's sleep-muted singing. "I didn't mean to," he murmurs again.

"I know. But I'm thinking you needed to." She yawns, shakes her head a little. "Minion, you…I was thinking about something Megamind said to me, earlier. You take care of him, don't you? You look after him, and the Lair, and everything. He makes the inventions, and you…you make sure he has the time and space to do it in."

"Yes," Minion says.

"But in the lake, you didn't have that. So, you made something. You…you had to look after something, so you built yourself a nest and you took care of that. Does that sound right?" she asks. She doesn't want to put words in his mouth, but she does want to understand. Minion's having a tough time articulating, so she's going on guesswork. It worked well enough with Megamind, after all.

Minion gives a slow nod. "I…I think so."

"Okay, then help me see what's wrong with that?" She frowns. "It sounds totally reasonable to me."

He swallows. "I…it may not be wrong," he admits quietly. "My people, we…I run much more on instinct than he does. We're all animals, Miss Ritchi, but I'm…more animal about it. In some ways."

But Roxanne shakes her head. "No, that's not what I mean. It sounds reasonable to me. But it doesn't feel reasonable to you, and I…I want to understand this from your side."

Minion is silent, trying to piece together why he feels the way he does. Finally, he says, "I'm a minion, Miss Ritchi. I'm his minion. It's…what I am. It's who I am. All of me."

"You're still your own person," she points out.

"Yes, but…yes. We aren't telepathic and we aren't a hive, but we…" He sighs a little, casts about for an analogy that might work. "Do you know what a serpentine belt is?"

"I think so?"

"An engine can still turn on without one," Minion says. "It'll turn on, but it just spins and spins and doesn't accomplish anything. It doesn't go anywhere."

She nods, frowning a little.

"He's the engine," Minion says. "I'm the belt. Without him, I don't…I shouldn't even spin. I wouldn't want to. But nesting, it's…it's a normal activity for me. It's. Spinning. A different way, but still." His voice breaks and he shoves his jaw out again. "With…without him. I built another engine. I left him."

"Oh," Roxanne whispers. "Oh, but…no. Okay, Minion, but…but, that's not…" Crap. She can't very well tell Minion that's not what happened. She swallows. "You're still an individual, you're allowed to do things independently."

Minion twists from side to side in his bowl. "I don't want to, I don't want to, I've never wanted to, not like that."

Behind him, Megamind snorts and rolls towards them. "'S happening?" he mumbles. "What's…oh."

Roxanne blinks up at him, her face illuminated by Minion's stuttering glow. "I don't know how to help," she says, trying not to cry now, herself. She's tired and she's still only half-awake and Minion is crying again and she doesn't know what to do. "He woke up and he was dreaming, something about nests, and I just…"

"Here, lemme take him. Minion, eyes on me." His voice is low and raspy with sleep, but he still sounds more coherent than he has in months and, crap, Roxanne is going to cry. At least everyone else is tired and Megamind is focusing on Minion; he won't notice if she sheds a few more tears. "Gonna run through your semaphore. Gotta get you back up to speed in your exosuits, yeah?" He bends his legs and picks Minion up and puts him on his stomach, propped against his thighs. He does turn his head to nuzzle briefly at Roxanne when she cuddles in close, but he keeps his gaze on Minion. "Fin, fin," he says, holding up one hand and then the other. "With me, Minion. Come on. Fin, fin."

Chapter Text

Soundtrack Link (YouTube)

"Fin," Minion chokes. "Fin." He flicks his pectoral spines in time with Megamind's hands, matching tilt and the spread of his fingers, mirroring him. It does seem to help. Some.

"What's this about nests?" Megamind asks, once he's mostly sure Minion's focus is external instead of internal.

"I built—I built one," Minion says, in an extremely wobbly voice. "Without you. I'm sorry, Sir, I'm sorry—I didn't want to, but…it…"

Megamind says nothing, only continues gesturing through the routine they developed years ago to help fine-tune Minion's motor skills in his suits.

"It…it was dark. Dark and big." Minion's voice cracks. "I couldn't see what else to do! And, and you weren't there, you weren't, and it—it hurt every time there was a boat—it hurt, and one time there were divers and they hurt more, and…and I just…I needed…"

Megamind sighs and stops moving his hands so he can grind their heels into his eyes for a second. This is something he should have anticipated. Minion seemed okay enough earlier—disoriented, but otherwise mentally okay—and he's always adapted to new situations with an ease Megamind can't quite get his own impressive head around.

He shakes himself, rejoins Minion in the old semaphore pattern.

Trouble is, Minion is also good at hiding pain. They talked about this once, years ago, when Megamind exploded at him and demanded to know why nothing ever fucking touched him, nothing ever got to him, he just laughed and moved on, how do you do that? and Minion said, no, that isn't what happens at all. He wasn't really able to explain it in a way that made much sense to Megamind, whose physical pain tolerance is through the roof but whose emotions sometimes scrub like sand under his skin, like needles fighting to get out, but—Minion just rolls it all up into a ball and rolls it around in his head until eventually it fizzles out like soda left out with the lid off.

But sometimes it doesn't fizzle. Minion hadn't said so, but Megamind knows it anyway. Sometimes it doesn't go flat, sometimes it fizzes over, instead, and it looks like that's what's happening here, and—

—and he should have known. This is too big. Of course this would be too much.

Megamind had a couple days' advance notice to brace himself. Time, such as it was, to process. Minion had been given none of that.

I wasn't there again. "Minion," he says aloud, and puts his hands on the glass, strokes his fingertips across the smooth surface in a way he hopes is soothing. "Minion, I'm not upset," and Minion nods, his fins wilting miserably. But what else is there? To say?

There must be something else. Megamind can surely think of something else. Something he can do or say to make it…not right, but better. More manageable, less frightening.

("Thanks for listening," Roxanne had said, nights and nights ago. "I feel better.")

He tries again. "I'm, I'm not upset," he says, "but—I can see why you are. It's. It's okay. We can…talk about it? If you want to?" Minion blinks at him a few times. "If—but if you don't want to, that's, um. Also okay?"

"Thank you," Minion says, low. "Not now."

Megamind nods. "Okay. That's okay." He struggles for a moment, then adds, "But…you know I'm…here? Right? And, and I'm not going anywhere. I've got you. You're okay. We'll get there."

Minion looks briefly startled, then sends him an extremely tremulous smile. "Not extinct yet, right, Sir?"

"No, we aren't, Minion." Megamind strokes the pads of his fingers across the glass again. "Want to see how long we can drag it out?"

Minion's whole face goes slack with shock for a second, then crumples back together. "Yes please," he chokes. "Yes, please. Can we?"

Megamind nods and smiles vaguely up at the ceiling. "Absolutely," he replies. "Definitely. I bet we can drag it out for…for a really long time, Minion. If we try."

"I want to try," Minion tells him, "I do want to try."

Megamind grins. "Me, too," he says. Then he heaves a sigh and finally rolls onto his side again, hugging Minion hard against his chest. "Sleep," he murmurs, in response to Minion's quiet, shuddering yawn, "for now. For now, sleep." He focuses in on the feedback from their intercerebral link as best he can.

It takes a minute for him to catch it through the humming interference that's still wobbling in and out between them, but Minion's quiet ticking sounds more or less the same as it used to when he was upset. Megamind homes in on this, adjusts his breathing to match it, tunes his heartbeat to it, tunes everything else out. The more in sync he is with Minion's rhythms, the more amplified the link will be to both of them; they can draw comfort from this more than words.

The interference does seem to be getting stronger, but maybe he's just out of practice. He frowns to himself and focuses, and sure enough, after a while, Minion starts to relax. His rhythms settle back to their swinging off-beat measure, then move into their sleep pattern. He's out again, his fins relaxed, his glow holding steady.

A quick glance over at Roxanne tells Megamind she's fallen asleep, too.

He lies still for a moment, gazing at her. Minion has always been comfortable sleeping in his presence, but Roxanne is another story. He still can't really believe she's here, curled up beside him, peacefully asleep next to the creature who kidnapped and threatened her more or less weekly for several years. Even more amazing is that they're both here, she and Minion, both of them together.

They'll make it through. One way or another. He has to believe this. He can't bear to think of any other outcome, but—he just doesn't know what to do.

Minion hadn't had anything or anyone to pull him up out of his depths. He'd learned to get by all on his own. Of the two of them, he's better-suited to surviving in solitude than Megamind is, but it seems this is a double-edged sword. Megamind isn't sure how to help him, this time.

He doesn't even truly know what he wants, except for everyone to be okay.

At least with Minion, he has years of experience to fall back on. Keep trying, and eventually they'll outlast whatever trial life throws at them: that's what they've always done. But Roxanne is new. Megamind doesn't know her as well. He's…not lost, per se, but certainly at a loss as to what to do for her, especially now that their link is severed. He'll keep trying, but he's not sure what the end will be, or when it will come.

Anxiety is a restless bedfellow; he can't stay here and think about this. Slowly, carefully, he rises, and he's equally careful when he gently pulls the door shut behind him. He doesn't close it all the way, just enough that the big-room night noises won't disturb anyone.

Outside in his bare feet, he looks around at the dark apartment. The blanket on the sofa. The ticking clock. The shelf with too many books. The sink he fixed. The television…

He pulls the blanket and a throw pillow off the sofa on his way past, turns sideways, and slips into the open corner behind the TV. He settles down there with his knees to his chest, his head on the pillow on his shoulder, and the blanket across his knees.

The ticking clock. A siren, somewhere; far enough away to be drowned out when the refrigerator across the room cycles on. Night noises. He's familiar with these. He can sleep with these. He takes a slow breath and wiggles his shoulders until his gills are pinned closed, tells himself to wake up at five-thirty to stumble back to the bed before Minion wakes up (but even if he does wake in the meantime, he won't be alone; he has Roxanne—he has Roxanne, miracle of miracles) and exhales. Shuts his eyes.

Then he pops them open again. And sits up. The pillow falls off his shoulder.

It's too quiet. There should be snoring.

Wayne isn't snoring, Wayne isn't—Wayne is—

He's on his feet and out from behind the television almost before his brain catches up with the rest of him, but he still retains the presence of mind to be quiet as he scrambles across the sleeping apartment to skid to a halt behind the folding screen, where—

Wayne is breathing normally. Face-down in the pillow, sprawled all over the spare bed with his knuckles dragging on the floor, and he's. Breathing normally, so. That's. Okay, then. That's fine. Megamind stares down at him for a second, then quickly turns around and sits on the edge of the futon before his knees can give out. Okay. Okay. Everyone's okay, except for Megamind, who is feeling water-loose and extremely shaky.

So much for sleeping. Hello panic my old friend, I've come to talk with you again.

A sort of vague thought occurs: he probably shouldn't be quite this rattled over the near-death experience of his former arch-nemesis. Not this soon after sorting things out between them, at least. But what Megamind cares about isn't really under his voluntary control, as he well knows. His life would be a lot easier if it were.

But, he corrects himself, even then, even if he could control it, Wayne has worked tirelessly at every turn to try and help him. That more than makes up for—okay, maybe not everything else—a lot! It makes up for a lot. The least Megamind can do is give a crap. Maybe even two craps.

And he has known Wayne longer than he's known anyone else on two planets, save Minion. Contentious history or no, Wayne is as much a part of him as Earth is.

He grips the bed hard on either side of his legs, then hunches forward and stares at his toes while he listens to his ex-nemesis's sleep-slow breathing and waits for his adrenaline to rinse away. And. Tries to think.

He's never bothered trying to forgive anyone, before. He's finding it surprisingly easy to manage.

He hasn't talked to Wayne in years, not really. Not enough to make any difference, or so he'd thought; Wayne, it seems, has not borne Megamind any ill will in quite some time. More than that, actually: Wayne trusts him. Might actually actively like him, even. Oh, he said it was all just being a hero, helping someone who needs help, but…now that Megamind is thinking about it, now that he can think again…that's not really part of the role, is it? When the person who needs help has been trying to kill you since childhood? Sort of trying, anyway.

Anything you need, I got you.

Megamind had never dreamed 'anything' might include putting himself in an environment for which he is so categorically, fundamentally unsuited, but here they are anyway. Wayne almost killed himself bringing Minion home. He'd spoken with all his usual blustery confidence, but Megamind remembers his face in the restaurant when he heard Minion would be in the lake—he'd known the risk and he went and dropped himself into deep water anyway, accepted the risk and acted in spite of it because…

Why?

Psh, Megamind said earlier, you love me, and Wayne had not said, I don't. It might be nothing, but it—it could be—something. Potentially, it could be a whole lot of something. He pulls a hard breath, shuddery and deep enough to make even his gills tingle.

This is. Way too much. To deal with right now.

Behind him, Wayne pulls his arms up off the floor and rolls over. "Mugh," he mumbles. "Bzat? M'gamind?"

Impeccable timing, as always. Megamind lifts his head but doesn't turn. Yes, sure, this is exactly what he needs to be worrying about the day he gets his brain back. "Go back to sleep."

"'S wrong? You okay?"

"Nothing," he says, "nothing, I…couldn't sleep. Go back to sleep, everything's fine."

He's not expecting the hero to actually listen to him, so he isn't too offended when there's a rustle, a muttering rumble, and the mattress shifts as Wayne slowly eases himself up to sitting with a groan, rubs his hands down his face.

Megamind stays where he is, facing the windows with his spine rigid and his hands stiff. He keeps his voice light. "Are you feeling any better?"

"…Somewhat?" There's a pause in which Wayne tries to stretch but mostly fails. "Gngh. My siphons are…not great. Sort of on fire. And my head kinda feels like it's full of wet knitting, but yeah, other than that, yeah." He inhales, holds his breath for a moment, then lets it out. "I still feel pretty soggy, but I think I could probably get in the air if I needed to. Invulnerability should be back up soon, too." Another pause, but Megamind can hear him grinning when he adds, "You can't get rid of me that easy."

He could, though. That's the whole problem. He lets out a choked laugh and digs his long fingers into the edge of the mattress until his knuckles turn white, drops his stare from the city lights back down to his bare feet.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Wayne lean sideways and crane his head to see him. "…What's up?"

Megamind turns his face away. "I'm," he says, but the syllable cracks in the middle and he has to hurriedly clear his throat. "Sorry," he mutters, and then sighs. "Glad you're okay."

There's an odd little pause before Wayne says, sounding startled, "Well…thanks. Thanks, little buddy. Means a lot." And there's the briefest of pauses, and then he says, "Listen, I uh…I wanna apologize."

Megamind shakes his head and doesn't look around at him. "I wouldn't know what for."

"Don't give me that. School?" Wayne scoffs in the back of his throat, which burns hard enough to make him wince. "God, everything. I'm…I was horrible to you. For years." He squints a little; his eyesight has never been the best in the dark. Not being able to gage Megamind's response is basically hell, but his ocular pits are uncomfortably tingly, so he doesn't dare switch to infrared or x-ray. At least he can see part of his face, his outline.

"It…wasn't even personal," he admits, mostly to fill the uncomfortable silence. Megamind hasn't moved an inch. "I just…I was never careful with you. Not like with the humans. And. And they thought it was funny, and I never thought about what I might be doing to you. And that's…worse? I think? than if it was personal." He shrugs once, grimacing when the motion pulls at his siphons, and swallows against something that feels like glass. "So. I'm—sorry."

Megamind holds still for another long couple of seconds before finally blowing a sigh through his nose and slouching a little. "We already went over this." He sounds tired.

"Yeah, but I, uh. I didn't actually say it, you know? And," and whoops, that's probably where he should have stopped talking. Well, he can't stop at and, so he says, "I wanted to."

Awkward. No. Can't stop there either. Needs some kind of explanation, or this apology is going to be even more hollow than it feels. "I got a…kind of wake-up call a couple years back? Made me think about some stuff, look at my life so far, you know? And I realized some stuff. Like—I'm a bully. Or I was. I, I hope I'm not anymore, but I mean…you remember the last time you called me Wayne, back in middle school. I cracked three of your ribs with that fastball. And…I left you there. On the ground." He pauses, but Megamind doesn't move or speak.

"So I wanted to say it. I know I've got a lot to make up for. And I'm sorry." Crab nuggets, that last part sounded like something canned, like an interview response. He meant it, but it didn't sound honest at all. Usually he's better at this, usually he isn't off his game and hurting literally everywhere. He chokes out something like a laugh and manages to drag his face into its usual grin, hoping it covers up the fact that he's kicking himself repeatedly. "I—I wouldn't've blamed you if you'd just grabbed Minion and cut your losses."

Megamind snaps bolt upright and then twists around to full-on stare at him, his lip lifting away from his teeth in what looks like disgust.

"Uh," Wayne says, at a total loss about this reaction, "so, a-anyway. Sorry."

Megamind jerks his head back, curling abruptly away like he does when—

Christ. When he's just been punched. The fact that Wayne knows exactly what Megamind looks like when he's just gotten his nose broken is the most fucked-up thing in the goddamned shitting world.

"Cut my losses," Megamind echoes, in almost his normal voice. Even with his ears still ringing from the earlier water pressure, Wayne can hear kinetic tension crawling up Megamind's back and down into his hands, which are twisted back into the blankets again. "Cut…cut my losses?" His voice rises nearly into a squeak. "You—almost—you almost died; I couldn't—do you honestly think I could have—"

He breaks off abruptly, tucking his chin and rolling his shoulders back and down in a conscious effort to ease his whole-body extended flinch. Wayne watches this with no small amount of disquiet. "Easy," he says, trying to sound calming and mostly sounding nervous. "I didn't mean it like that." He doesn't even know what 'like that' is, but the way Megamind is behaving isn't at all what he'd expected. "And quiet down, you'll wake Roxie up."

"You are not a loss," Megamind whisper-snarls, baring his incisors and hissing the last word. "I don't care how you meant it; how could you possibly say—like I could just—leave you on the ground? Take Minion and cut my—no, you're—do you have any idea how few people would have—" He cuts off and blinks once, twice. Then he twists away again, fists clenched at his hips, and…god. Wayne can't stand this.

"Okay," he says, "okay, okay, I'm sorry. Hey," and he finally gives up and leans forward, one hand out. He's thinking, maybe pat the little guy on the back or something. He has to do something, or his carefully-maintained easygoing shell is going to crack and what falls out will probably be an even bigger pile of nerves than Megamind is right now.

Megamind wrenches reflexively backwards as soon as Wayne touches his shoulder, his head whipping around and his eyes going huge and frightened for a bare second. Just long enough for Wayne to freeze with his hand still out, just long enough for the knot in his stomach to pull tight.

But. Then Megamind squeezes his eyes shut and twists sideways and down, plants one hand flat on the bed and grabs Wayne's wrist with the other, and—

—pushes the side of his head into Wayne's palm.

Huh. That's new. Confused, relieved, Wayne curls his fingers to fit the gentle curve of skin and bone. "Hey," he says again, and dares to brush his thumb back and forth a couple times. "Hey. 's okay."

Megamind gives a short, jerky nod, and squeezes Wayne's wrist, but he doesn't speak for a moment, just breathes.

Wayne blinks down at the top of his head, completely thrown. Megamind does not allow Wayne to touch him, not voluntarily. Not unless it's absolutely necessary. Wayne can't blame him at all for that—Megamind is incredibly tough, despite his slight build, but Wayne can and has hurt him easily.

"I can't believe you," Megamind says, and Wayne jumps. His voice is low, he's hissing down at the bedclothes with his body still twisted and bent nearly in half, his cranium surprisingly warm in Wayne's hand, his fingers surprisingly cool on Wayne's arm. "Cut my losses. As if you aren't important. As if I could just write you off. You are not expendable. Get that into your head."

He pulls away. Straightens his back and rolls his head like he's trying to stretch his neck. None of this does anything to ease the tension running up and down along his spine—Wayne can still hear it twisting thumbscrew-tight between his shoulders.

"Stupid," Megamind mutters. "Stupid. Should've just gone back to bed."

"If you're tired, you don't need to stick around." Wayne laughs a little and glances at the little glowing hands of the bedside clock, still wondering just what the heck that was. He's not about to ask, though. It doesn't seem like something you ask about. "It's almost four."

Megamind drops his hands into his lap and peers at him, but doesn't otherwise move.

Wayne swallows. "Seriously, you okay? You're—super wound-up, I don't really know where your head is at."

"I think I liked you better when you didn't pay attention," Megamind complains, snapping his gaze away towards the windows and fidgeting. "I don't see why wake-up calls mean you have to start paying attention."

"Yeah, well, not paying attention left a you-shaped hole in a seven-inch-thick steel door, if you recall," Wayne fires back, "and it almost broke your neck, so excuse me if I take things a little more seriously now."

"What—but that doesn't have anything to do with—"

And then Megamind stops, and blinks, and then turns and stares at him again. Hard.

"What?" Wayne says, trying not to sound defensive. With as quickly as Megamind's brain moves, he's not entirely comfortable being at the center of such abrupt attention. "What?"

The stare continues for a few more seconds, and then Megamind's eyes narrow. He turns towards Wayne more fully, but he's moving slowly, too slowly for all the energy he's holding. Usually, that would mean he's about to go flying off in some random direction, but this isn't his Lair and they aren't playing games anymore; plus, his head is tilted, which is—mixed signals, very annoying.

"What you were saying," Megamind says slowly. "All those things you said, all the things you—back in school, the things you did." His focus still hasn't shifted. "If I left you there, if I walked away, then how would you—how would we take those things and make them anything better? More?" Wayne starts to speak but Megamind snarls, "Shut up and let me finish!" and Wayne snaps his mouth shut again.

Megamind glowers at him. "We live and grow," he grits out, after a couple seconds, "we live and learn, we—you can't just sit there like—like you aren't more than what you were. Like you'll never be anything more than what you are, like you're just—something to be written off." He shakes his head. "You're more than that. You do know that."

Wayne lets out the breath he's been holding. "Yeah," he says, even though he isn't really all too sure, "I know. I…look, would you please relax?" he interrupts himself. "You're—freaking me out, little buddy, seriously." Then, while Megamind is still thrown and blinking, he sighs and says, "I just meant the city would've been fine if something went wrong. Really wrong, I mean; I—"

Megamind, who has not relaxed in the slightest, cuts him off. "I'm not talking about Metro Man. I'm talking about you. I…" He pauses and pinches his lips together for a moment, frowning, and finally looks away. "I'm still not sure about…some things," he mutters. "Hard to get my bearings. I don't know if I'm making any sense." He bites his lip, huffs through his nose.

"We live and learn," he says slowly, because of course he's trying again. He always, always tries again. Always. Every time. It was one of the first things Wayne ever noticed about him. "And…we grow. You're—you and I, both of us, we—we're more than we were. The mistakes we made…" He shakes his head. "They're in the past. We learn from them. We grow from them. And. We move forward."

Wayne blinks a couple times as he tries to work out where this is going. "Okay…"

Megamind scowls. "I'm not making sense, then."

"I dunno." He starts to lift a hand so he can rub the back of his neck, but quickly drops it back into his lap when his shoulder cramps in protest. "But maybe I'm just tired. Sorry."

Megamind sighs, wilts a little. Then he mumbles, "I hate this."

"What?"

"This! Us!" He flaps a hand back and forth between the two of them, frustrated. "It's awkward! I don't like awkward! Awkward means I'm doing something wrong again." His shoulders drop.

"I don't think you're doing something wrong," Wayne offers, but when the angry twist finally ebbs from Megamind's mouth, he just looks…sad. Pensive.

Wayne thinks this is when he's going to stand up and leave, say something dismissive or snappily petulant and go back to bed. Instead, he just sort of sighs again. And stays.

And, after a moment, frowns, and continues to sit in silence. This is unsettling; quiet-frowning-Megamind means thinking-Megamind, and thinking-Megamind generally means bad things for Wayne. But Wayne sits, and waits, and does his best to give his old enemy the benefit of the doubt. Megamind put his head in Wayne's hand, earlier. Letting him sit and think is the least Wayne can do.

Finally, slowly, Megamind speaks. "Listen." His brows are very low over his eyes and his shoulders are very stiff. "Wayne. Listen. As, as your—friend. I…have to say. I am…scared of how far you went to help me. Grateful!" he adds, while Wayne is still reeling over the friend comment. "Definitely grateful! But…also very scared." After a few seconds, he says, "You should have more regard for your well-being."

There's a pause while Wayne tries to figure out if he actually just heard that or if he's hallucinating, because Megamind does not tell Metro Man to take better care of himself. Megamind does not call Metro Man friend.

(Friends! they're friends! Megamind called him a friend and this is so, so much more than Wayne ever thought he'd get; his head is spinning and if he wasn't feeling so sick he would be doing loop-the-loops right now.)

But then Megamind says, firmly, "You have value." And he says it with this—this stupid little nod, like it's just a fact, like it's the conclusion of some long, important thought. Wayne can't help it: he snorts.

"Thanks," he says, "but Metro Man's not that valuable. The city would—"

Megamind explodes into a flurry of tiny angry movements and hisses, "I'm not! Talking! About Metro Man!" He shreds at the air in front of his chest with both hands curled into strangling claws, his eyes snapping boric fire as the energy he'd gathered earlier finally combusts. Wayne had known it would, was waiting for it, but it still makes him flinch. "You are not listening to me! I am talking about you, not Metro Man! You! Have value!"

"But," Wayne says, "I am Metro Man."

Megamind twists, honest-to-goodness full-body twists with the force of his irate, stage-hissed, "No!" He rakes his hands down his face, aims his open fingertips at Wayne. "Metro Man is a—a service you offer, he's—a job. He isn't real! You're not him!"

Wayne stares at him. "But…you're Megamind," he hazards. "Aren't you?"

Megamind pauses, then drops his hands into his lap and sort of wilts. "I never had anything else I could be," he says lowly. "But I, I can learn. I can grow. I—"

Then he blinks and sinks in on himself, his jaw suddenly going slack.

"Oh," he says, and, "fuck," and then, "oh I owe Roxanne the biggest apology ever. This is what she…and Minion! Oh, no. This was—for the love of evil, thirty-five years of—my stupid—jiminy christmas—I hope you know how to bake, because I owe Minion, like, sixty cakes. And a new gorilla suit. I mean in addition to the one I obliterated. And that stove with the dual fuel freestanding range and the huge middle burner and the built-in grill. Ugh." He flops backwards onto the bed with both hands over his face. "I am really, really dense," he moans.

Okay, Wayne has absolutely no idea what that's about, but he's chuckling anyway; he can't help it. "Welcome to the club, pal."

Megamind heaves a sigh that is entirely too large to fit in his skinny little body, then pulls his hands away and rolls his head sideways to send Wayne a perpendicular glare. "My point is, you have worth. Beyond Metro Man."

Wayne knows better than to argue with him on that right now. It's four in the morning and everything is pain, and Megamind is his friend and wants him to think he's important, so. He summons up a smile in the face of his glare and says, "Well…thanks. I, uh. I appreciate it. Never thought I'd hear that from you."

Megamind makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat and throws both arms across his face.

"Especially about the cakes," Wayne continues, and Megamind gives a muffled snort. "I do know how to bake, though. Sixty, huh?"

"At least sixty."

"I'll get right on that," he promises, grinning, "first thing tomorrow."

"Good," Megamind says, "good. You can teach me how to do that, too."

"…How's Minion?" Wayne asks, after a long pause that actually isn't as awkward, this time.

"Fine. He's fine."

"Anything I can do to help?" he hedges, after another few seconds, but Megamind doesn't appear to hear him. Wayne sighs again. "Buddy, c'mon. Talk to me. Why'd you come wake me up?" Megamind blinks and drops his arms, looks at him, then grimaces. Wayne nudges him with a blanketed toe. "What's going on?"

"—Didn't wake you up," Megamind says, shoving himself up onto his elbows and glaring at Wayne's foot. "You did that all by yourself."

Wayne rolls his eyes. "Fine, sure, but what were you even doing over here?"

Megamind sinks into his shoulders, and tension slowly starts to crawl back into his spine again. Wayne frowns. The little guy is always all over the place, but he's not usually this edgy.

"I couldn't hear you breathing," he mutters. He sighs, then sits up completely and rubs at his eyes with the tips of his long fingers, which means he totally misses the dumbfounded expression Wayne sends him. "Minion and Roxanne woke me up; Minion was…he's…less than fine. Actually. Pretty out of it. Anyway, it was too quiet." He shrugs. "I got worried."

Wayne stares at him. Megamind's shoulders are pulling back up towards his ears. "Oh," he says, genuinely taken aback. "Well. Uh. Thanks?"

Oh, he realizes, sudden understanding making him dizzy. Oh. I—I have value to—him, specifically? Is that—so that's what he meant? That's. Not possible. Is it?

"You're welcome," Megamind says stiffly, and then, suddenly, he stands up. "I'm going back to bed," he says, and he finally looks at Wayne again. Well, in Wayne's direction, anyway. He isn't making eye contact.

He's upset. He seemed more or less okay a minute ago, but it's written in how he stands, gazing from under his eyebrows with his head lowered and his back straight, elbows slicked against his sides. It's written in his face, the way the corners of his mouth are turned down again.

"Sorry," Wayne offers, because it's gotten a lot easier since the first time he said it and he's not sure if Megamind is upset at him or just upset in general. Unfortunately, this makes Megamind's face pinch even further.

"Let me see your inhalant siphons."

Wayne freezes. "My…"

Megamind blinks twice, then steps closer to Wayne and—reaches out a hand, hooks a finger in the collar of Wayne's tee shirt, tugs it to the side.

Wayne doesn't move. He's. Not actually sure he can.

Something flickers in Megamind's expression, but overall, his features don't change. A few seconds pass, and then he lets go of Wayne's shirt and wiggles his fingers in the direction of his face, instead. "Head back," he says.

Wayne recoils. Megamind's train of thought always jumps around a bit, but this is ridiculous.

"Tilt your head back," Megamind says, sounding impatient. "I want to see your aeroflux stoma." When Wayne still doesn't move, he huffs and rolls his eyes. "Oh, relax. We're friends. You said. I'm not going to hurt you."

Slowly, Wayne tips his head as far back as he can, exposing his throat and the two rows of slits under his chin. Megamind leans closer.

"Do these hurt?" he says, after a moment. "They look dry. But you said you're still waterlogged? Internally?"

"Everything hurts, little buddy, I told you," Wayne replies, sounding strangled. "And yeah, I'm pretty sloshy right now."

"Hmm. Wait here, I'll be right back."

When Wayne looks down again, he's already gone.

…Okay…

So that…that was…different. Megamind doesn't usually voluntarily come within arms' reach. Granted, he was careful not to actually touch him; he'd only touched Wayne's shirt, but…still. That and the head thing earlier are way more than he's ever done before without having an outside reason.

"Here," Megamind says, coming back around the screen and tossing something at Wayne from the end of the bed, "catch."

It's a tub of Vaseline. Wayne blinks down at it, then up at Megamind.

"Petroleum jelly," he explains without being asked. He still looks desperately unhappy, and Wayne just doesn't know why. "Your intakes are all way too dry—I don't know about your vents; turning your back on me with your invulnerability down probably isn't something you—anyway. This should help." He cocks his head, looks at Wayne's shoulders for a moment and then down at the mattress, and then he frowns. "You don't fit, do you."

Wayne shrugs, already unscrewing the lid of the Vaseline. "It'll do for one night."

Megamind regards him in silence for a moment. "What do you do," he finally says, "when you want something you…you aren't sure you're allowed to want?"

That was out of left field. "Ask?" he suggests. "Why? What is it?"

Megamind shakes his head. "Wait here," he says flatly, "and I'll thank you not to eavesdrop," and then he turns on his heel and disappears again.

It's tempting, but Wayne obligingly shifts his focus away from his hearing. He can't help noticing Roxanne's startled-awake voice, but he doesn't pay any attention to what she's saying, and a moment later it's all whispers anyway. Those are easier to ignore.

He shuts his eyes for a moment and rubs his temple, then sighs and dips his fingers into the Vaseline. Waves of vertigo roll over him as he applies it to the slits under his chin, but the dizziness isn't nearly as bad as it was earlier that evening, even when he presses on them. It's an improvement.

The harebrained scheme with the gun and the rope and Megamind's atom-bomb-levels-of-destruction machine actually worked. Holy shit. Well, he'd figured it would, but Wayne's plan was a lot less polished than it probably should have been.

"All's well that ends well," he mumbles, for what feels like the fifth time in as many days. Lord knows he's thought it even more than he's said it. Maybe at some point he'll even believe it. Wouldn't that be wild?

Then he has to grit his teeth, because rubbing petroleum jelly onto the spongy inhalant tissue above his collarbones is painful enough to make his head swim. He's really hoping his invulnerability kicks back in soon.

Dazed, he screws the lid back on the Vaseline and drops it onto the bed. He'll figure out what Megamind was talking about with the whole 'we're more than this,' thing later. Right now he's bone-tired, everything hurts, and all he can think about is how glad he is that everything's okay.

And he finally apologized, and it sounded like Megamind took it at face value, which is. Just. Excellent. Even better than Megamind agreeing to look into maybe giving him some backup on the whole hero thing. Not quite as awesome as Megamind calling him friend, but it's a close second.

He sags back against the wall and shuts his eyes. Okay.

Everything is…everything's okay. I fixed it. We're all going to be okay.

He wants to sleep for a year. And then, maybe, another year. He'll have hell to pay to the Chamber of Commerce for putting the city on hold for so long, he knows, but he's okay, really. It's all okay, everything's okay; he fixed it. As long as he can keep from thinking about how this job might, possibly, sort of, maybe be killing him, he'll be okay.

"Okay," says Megamind's voice, very close, and Wayne startles. His eyes fly open and he stares at Megamind, who stares back, looking just as spooked as Wayne feels. "—I thought you'd hear me coming."

He shakes his head and forces his hands to unclench. He learned how to startle without actually jumping a long time ago, because when he jumps, things around him tend to break and people around him tend to get scared—but he'd still gripped the sheets hard enough and quickly enough to scorch holes in the cotton. Good thing he already put the Vaseline aside, or there would have been a terrific mess. "It's fine," he says, too lightly, "don't worry about it. What's up?"

"Yes! Right." Megamind slicks his elbows to his sides again and squares himself. Stress, Wayne thinks. "I was going to say—Roxanne agrees with me. About the bed, and you not fitting. But according to my—our—measurements, we have room. For one more." He pauses, but Wayne just blinks at him. "In. In our bed. Her bed," he corrects quickly. "It's Roxanne's bed. Obviously."

"Ah?" Wayne says, blank.

Megamind rises onto the balls of his feet, rocks back down onto his heels. "There's room," he says again, fidgeting. "In. In the bed. For you. If you want it."

Wayne squints at him, trying to parse this. It sounds like—

It sounds like he wants Wayne to—

After a couple seconds, the huge head cants sideways and Megamind scrunches his face into a kind of anxious grimace. "Sorry, am I still not being clear?" He bounces again, scowling in the dim half-light. "I want—you should—come sleep in Roxanne's bed. With. Her and. Me. And Minion. There's not a lot of room, but Minion is in his ball, and I'm small, and Roxanne isn't big, and—and if we all kind of—" He mimes a sort of vague squishing motion and swallows. "There's more room there than out here, at least. Her bed is enormous. You'll fit better there. And you can lean against the wall; your flight system will drain better at an angle."

"I," Wayne says, but then he has to pause for a moment and clear his throat. Ow. "I mean…sure? Yeah. Thanks."

The look of relief Megamind sends him isn't fair, it really isn't.

Roxanne rolls over when they come in, then scoots to the edge of the bed furthest from the wall. "Heyyy," she sings sleepily, grinning up at Wayne. "Slumber party! 's like old times."

"Shh," Megamind says, low. "Don't wake up Minion."

"Yeah, no," she whispers, yawning. "No, that'd be bad."

Megamind crawls over her, puts himself on Minion's other side and curls up there, facing Roxanne with Minion tucked against his chest, and jerks his head at Wayne before settling down onto a pillow and clenching his eyes closed. He wasn't wrong about space; Roxanne's bed is very big, a birthday gift from her parents when they heard she was dating Metro Man. There's more than enough room for him on Megamind's other side. Still, he balks.

Roxanne yawns again and waves at him. "Wayne, c'mon, scoot your boot," she whispers. "You need us to get out?"

"No. No, I'm fine." He jumps into the air with some difficulty and arcs over them, and he has just enough time to lower himself carefully onto his side before his flight craps out on him.

Gingerly, he leans back against the wall. And Megamind was right: it is better. Only a couple seconds after he settles and shuts his eyes, something shifts in his chest, along his spine, and relief eases through him.

He doesn't say anything. Everyone else is trying to sleep, and talking to them in bed would—

Would feel strange, and that's as far as that particular train of thought is going. He's already falling back towards sleep anyway. Not thinking about this. Not thinking about this.

Wayne is good at not thinking about things.

There's a rustle somewhere in front of him as Megamind shifts around, and something cool against his shoulder, and that's—all he knows, for a while.

Chapter Text

Soundtrack Link (YouTube)

"And you're really okay with this?" Megamind says softly as Wayne's breathing slows. A blue eye slits open at him and Roxanne lifts her mouth into a sleepy grin.

"Of course I am," she murmurs back. "I would have told you if I wasn't."

She sounds content enough, sincere enough, but he still blinks at her, his green eyes wide and worried. "I love you," he tells her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, sweetheart, I'm sure. It's close quarters, but it works fine." She struggles up onto an elbow, then leans over and kisses the skin between his eyebrows. "And I love you, too, Brainmate. No matter what. Never doubt it."

He studies her for another moment, then finally allows his face to relax into a smile. He turns to scoot down further under the covers. "'s a horrible nickname," he complains through a yawn.

Her answering smile is warm as she cuddles up against him, settling as best she can with Minion tucked between them. "Mmmm yes, but you're stuck with me."

Megamind's heart jumps at that and he stretches out an arm, pushes it under her pillow so she can kind of put her head on his shoulder, and the thrill that sings through him when she hums happily makes his throat tighten. He definitely is stuck with her, stuck on her, more than she knows; but she isn't stuck with him anymore, and the fondness in her voice and to hear her say she still thinks of herself as sticking with him—

"I'm so glad," he manages, but she's gone to sleep smiling and doesn't hear him.

Minion opens his eyes to summer sunlight painting around the edges of Miss Ritchi's bedroom curtains and splashing across her sheets. Disoriented, he flutters his fins and blinks a few times. His water is warm—not unpleasantly so, but warmer than he's used to—and no wonder; he's pressed between two bodies.

He rarely sleeps with company. He and Megamind keep vastly different hours, and Minion generally prefers his castle anyway, unless he's sick. But. This is. Nice.

If he's thinking about it, he supposes he probably counts as sick, right now. But he's getting better.

Miss Ritchi is half-twisted on her side, with her shoulder propped up on Minion's ball—he's pressed against her chest, which might have made him blush if he ever had any sort of inclinations in that direction. Her elbow is bent around him, her hand curled on Megamind's chest. Megamind is on his back on Minion's other side, and Minion himself is tucked under his arm.

He's pinned between the two of them, and if he's going to be sleeping in his ball, in a bed, with company, he wouldn't have it any other way.

(This was never part of his quiet daydreams, before. This is even better.)

And…

Okay, Miss Ritchi has a pillow, that's normal. It's flattish, squished from a night of sleeping, but it's still a pillow. But Megamind's pillow is crammed up against the headboard, and instead, his head seems to be resting on…Minion squints. Is that an elbow? He flicks a fin and cranes to see, peering over Megamind's body, and then he freezes.

Metro Man is lying half on his back, propped against the wall, his head thrown back and all four of his stoma gaping wide under his chin. He must have joined them at some point. His arm is bent, his hand under his head; Megamind's huge cranium is, indeed, pillowed on his elbow—which is more or less in Miss Ritchi's face—and all Minion can think is that Metro Man's arm must be very asleep in order for that to work.

Huh.

Okay. Okay, that's…

Different?

Megamind shows affection through touch, so there's no surprises about him cozying up to Miss Ritchi. But his head? On Metro Man's arm, that's…that's interesting. Minion doesn't know what to do about that.

And something does need to be done about all this. While the bed-sharing thing is not something Minion will want on a regular basis, Megamind is another story and Minion knows it. If he's reading the sheets correctly, one of Megamind's ankles is on top of Miss Ritchi's leg, and the arm that isn't under her pillow is bent so his hand is curled next to his shoulder, with the back of his forearm pressed against Metro Man's ribs. His Sir isn't cuddling, exactly, but he's not being half as shy as Minion would expect. And it's an open stance. Vulnerable. While Megamind wouldn't kill for the opportunity to sleep like this again sometime, he would probably at least maim.

Minion turns and studies Miss Ritchi as best he can from this angle. He's thinking much more clearly this morning than he was last night; much more calmly, as well.

So, she'll be spending more time at the Lair. He's going to need to talk to Megamind about that. Sooner or later, she's going to want to settle down with someone, and if Megamind can possibly figure out how to stop being in love with her before then, his life and Minion's job will both be so much easier. He wouldn't have said 'yes' to the whole Miss-Ritchi-moving-in plan if he'd realized just how much his Sir's sentiments have deepened.

On the other fin…maybe he'll wait a little while, just until he has a feel for the new dynamic. If he can use Miss Ritchi's proximity to his advantage in the meantime, he'll push as hard as he dares. It is worth pushing, he's sure of it. She can't be repulsed by Megamind's appearance if she's willing to share her bed with him. They're already friends, that's obvious, so if Minion is very lucky and plays his cards exactly right, maybe he'll be able to nudge them into being even more than friends. Who knows? Maybe she'll even come to find the boss attractive.

In any case, three things are clear: He needs to find out what her intentions are, and he needs to let her know just how much power she wields over his charge, and he needs to do both of those things soon.

He's only able to contemplate his conclusions for about two seconds before Megamind snorts and scowls in his sleep, rouses a little bit, and pulls his arm out from under Miss Ritchi, who also frowns and mutters something.

The next few moments are—confusing? Confusing.

Megamind makes a kind of sleepy grumbling noise and tugs on Miss Ritchi's shoulder, and she…lifts her head, squints one eye open, pats around until she finds Megamind's pillow. She's not awake, Minion can tell, not really, but she's awake enough to move his globe out of the way and pass Megamind his pillow as she rolls over and the two of them shift and resettle.

And now Minion and Miss Ritchi have traded places: he's on her other side, she's lying with her back against Megamind's chest, and Megamind has one arm under her neck and the other draped over her ribs and he's holding her against him, and he's wearing the goofy little smile that Minion knows means he's going to be in a good mood when he wakes up. Minion squints. Oh, Miss Ritchi's lower arm is bent and she's…oh, she's holding the boss's hand, their fingers are laced together. And…

…And Minion should probably wake them up. He should say something; they're going to be so embarrassed to find themselves like this. Sir, especially—Miss Ritchi on one side, Metro Man on the other?

But sometimes a little embarrassment is what people need. And the best shot Megamind has for this happening again (which he will want, even if Minion doesn't, because his Sir is an incorrigible cuddler) is to figure out what to do when it happens this time.

He grins and rolls off the bed to go in search of his exosuit. And then, maybe, he'll see about breakfast.

He's flipping pancakes when he hears the bedroom door open. He turns, then smiles when he sees who it is. "Good morning, Miss Ritchi!"

She yawns, stretches her arms up over her head. "Good morning," she returns. "Sleep okay?"

He nods. "No more dreams," he says, answering the question she hadn't asked. "I'm not out of the woods yet, but…I do feel better now." He turns back to the stove. "Pancakes? And I made coffee."

"Pancakes sound wonderful, I am so hungry."

"There's some keeping warm in the oven," Minion tells her, and she hums and takes a plate out of the cupboard, pulls the oven door open. "Is Sir awake yet?"

"He's getting there," Miss Ritchi says, amusement warm in her voice. "He tried to bite me when I shook him, and Wayne made his threat noise, so I think I'll let those two wake up on their own."

Minion glances over at her, confused. "Threat noise?"

"Oh, you know. That drumming noise he does? I don't have a deep enough voice to show you."

Minion does not know, but depending on how deep she's talking, it's possible his microphones have never picked it up. Well. As long as they're still asleep, he supposes it doesn't really matter. "Miss Ritchi," he says, "um. I do still need to talk to you about. Some things. If…are you feeling better?"

"I am," she says, pouring syrup on her pancakes. "I don't know what was the matter with me last night, but…Minion, it's crazy, I feel great right now."

"Oh good," he says, relieved. "So—"

Metro Man stumbles out of the bedroom, bleary-eyed and haggard. "Heard something about coffee," he croaks, leaning on the doorframe. Wordless, Minion points. "Thanks."

"Do your angry noise," Miss Ritchi says as he pours himself a mug. "Minion doesn't know what I'm talking about."

Metro Man makes a face, then appears to concentrate for a moment. Then he winces, relaxes. As far as Minion can tell, that's all that happens. He shrugs.

"You can't hear that?" Miss Ritchi asks, and he shakes his head. "Huh. Wild."

"Don't let me interrupt you guys," Metro Man says, lifting his coffee cup to his mouth.

Roxanne yelps and grabs him by the arm. "That's hot, dingus! Is your invulnerability back up yet?"

Metro Man blinks again, looking startled, and then he sticks a finger in the steaming liquid. "Ow! Fffff." He puts his finger in his mouth, scowling. "I guess not," he mumbles. "Thanks, Roxie."

"Jeeze, show a little self-preservation, would you? There's frozen coffee in the ice cube trays in the freezer." She rolls her eyes, drops her hand. "Sorry, Minion. What were you saying?"

He hesitates. "Oh," he says, glancing at Metro Man, "that's…that's okay, Miss Ritchi. We can talk later."

"Are you sure?" she asks, and he nods and smiles at her and turns back to the pan.

Huh. Okay. She returns to her breakfast, not wanting to push.

She isn't sure how he manages it, but every single one of the pancakes he's turning out is a perfectly lovely golden-brown. Roxanne always has to be careful when she makes pancakes, has to be sure to only make enough batter for three pancakes total. Partly because that's usually her upper limit on pancakes, but also because everything after the third pancake is sure to be burned on the outside if she wants it cooked through. Minion doesn't seem to have that issue at all.

And they're delicious. This is. Excellent breakfast. And a beautiful morning in general: bright and sunny despite last night's downpour.

It really is incredible how good she feels right now. Not just better than last night—that's a low bar—but honestly fantastic. Well-rested, awake. And much more optimistic about the future of her little corner of the world than she felt last night. Whatever sickness or low spell that was, it seems to have passed.

Life goes on. It always does, in the end. And no, she doesn't know where it's going on to, but…that might be okay, actually. She has a job she likes, friends she likes, she's in love with a good man who's in love with her—and Minion is home, which, holy shit, that's just about the best possible thing she could have envisioned. Granted, he and Megamind are both uncertain and unsteady on their feet after the devastating trial they've just been through, but they'll be all right eventually. Roxanne might not know what's on the horizon, but link or no link, she can be steady enough for all three of them. She's sure about that.

Nothing is the same, but they have each other. Everything else is bonus.

Megamind wakes to an empty bed, but he has a vague recollection of Roxanne trying to wake him up. So that's okay.

He rolls into the shaft of sunlight falling up the bed and stretches slowly. He can hear conversation from the kitchen, clinking of dishes, Roxanne's bright laugh and Minion's more subdued one. Wayne's voice.

Smiling to himself, he closes his eyes and focuses in on the link in the back of his head. Minion's steady rhythm is solid and strong, now, keeping time. He doesn't sound exactly like he used to, but his new rhythm still feels like home. It feels like coming home and wanting to stay.

And underneath that…huh.

Minion sounds more or less like himself, so Megamind isn't terribly worried about the differences. He's sure his own side of the link must also have changed. But underneath that, under Minion's steady ticking, that gentle hum is still there, no longer wobbling in and out but holding fully steady like a sitar's supporting drone. Huh.

He focuses on that for a moment, instead of Minion, tries to pull the hum forward—

He frowns. Opens his eyes.

A horrible thought occurs. Wait…

He scrambles to sit up and jams his fingers in his ears, hoping, but—no, he's not hearing this. It's not something audible, so—no.

Oh no. Oh no.

In the kitchen, Metro Man snaps his head around to look at the bedroom door. "Something's wrong."

Minion turns, puzzled, and Roxanne blinks at him. "What?"

"Something's wrong," Metro Man repeats, sounding urgent. "He woke up and then five seconds later his heart rate, like, quadrupled, that's not normal."

"But what would…"

Minion straightens and focuses on the link; sometimes there are cues in Megamind's singing that offer insight. But this is…ah. Interesting. Sir's tune has split in two? There's the tune he knows, a little different now but still definitely Sir, plus a droning hum behind it that—is in tune with Sir and it's certainly not unpleasant—it highlights some of his notes and blends with others—but what—

"Oh," he says, startled, his gaze flicking to Miss Ritchi. "Is that…that's you, isn't it?"

She sits up, looking just as surprised as he feels. "Oh!" she echoes. "Wait, did the link not…oh, damn…" She abandons her plate, dodges around Metro Man, and throws the door to her room open so hard it bounces off the wall. Metro Man is right behind her until Minion, moving faster than he ever knew he could, grabs him by the arm and yanks him back.

"Whoa! Minion, what—"

"Wait," he hisses, swiveling in his dome to watch with his heart clenched behind his teeth, because—

—Miss Ritchi bonded with Megamind, she linked with him and he linked with her and found solid ground in her, a safe place to stand with her. Of course Minion will step in if his Sir needs him, but he isn't sure how to help with this particular problem, and he wants to see how this plays out. How will it go if he allows these two to tend to each other? Living together, he thinks again, not just staying, but living.

Megamind is hunched over, sitting on the bed with his feet on the floor and his elbows on his knees, gripping his head with both hands so hard his knuckles are white. Miss Ritchi stops in front of him, almost crouching—trying to catch his eye? Minion wonders. Good luck with that, if so.

"Hey," she says. "Hey. Look at me."

"I have no right."

She scowls. "You have every right," she says sharply, cupping his chin and trying unsuccessfully to bring his head up. "Megamind, come on. Please. Don't do this."

"Don't do what," he shoots back, wrenching free and leaning stiffly away, still not looking at her. "Don't—break into your mind, don't—carve my name into your amygdala—don't—"

"Yes, it might be permanent," Roxanne says, standing back up to stare down at him in consternation, "but we knew that was a possibility and I told you, it's okay—"

"I'm in your head," he says flatly, glaring up at her. "Minion and I, both of us, we're in your head. Maybe permanently, yes, maybe forever! And you aren't at all upset about it?"

"Well, and I'm in yours," she retorts. "Are you upset?"

"Yes!" he exclaims, throwing his hands into the air. "Yes, I'm upset! Obviously! You didn't have a choice! Minion didn't have a choice!"

"Neither did you," she points out when he stops there. "Don't you deserve a choice?"

He sketches a frustrated gesture in the air with one hand. "I don't need one," he snaps, "I don't—this is—already my ideal outcome." His lips twist and he makes an awful scoffing noise in the back of his throat. "Fickle and selfish, remember?"

"Wha…how is this either of those things?" Roxanne demands. And instead of rolling her eyes and walking away, the way Minion feared she would, she turns and drops onto the bed next to him. "How is this—Megamind, I told you before, this is not your fault!"

"If I wasn't what I am—"

"Then you wouldn't be you!" she cries. "And how is just being what you are even remotely your fault?" She puts her hand on his back, wraps her other hand around one of his fists, leans into his shoulder. Incredibly, he doesn't flinch away, just glares at her, pained. "Megamind, how is that on you? Did you somehow have a say in that?"

She stares at him, challenging, and he stares back for a long moment—and then he slumps a little and drops his gaze. "Fine," he says, "fine," and falls silent.

Minion stares. He…wait, he backed down? Minion has heard that line from Megamind before, if I wasn't what I am then xyz thing wouldn't have happened, and when Megamind flings himself into one of his hissing moods, he isn't typically willing to listen to reason. Minion has pointed out the exact thing Miss Ritchi just said, before, and Megamind always came back with it doesn't matter about fault, Minion, I'm just making an observation—I'm the problem, I'm the cause of this—if I was better, if I was normal—if I wasn't what I am—

"Megamind, I like what you are," Roxanne tells him. "I love what you are. You know this."

After a long moment, he closes his fingers around her hand. "Yes, you've said," he says, voice low and sort of strangled, still frantic. "But I—this isn't right. We fixed it. We fixed it. It isn't supposed to be like this; Minion is home; you're—you're not supposed to be stuck with me."

Roxanne stares at him, desperately wishing she knew how to comfort him about this. As far as she's concerned, the link between them is simply a fact of the world, now. Like carrying him home, like bringing him into her life, like giving him gloves, like sitting with him through the aftermath of his drinking binge, like setting everything else aside to bring Minion home. She does feel badly on Minion's behalf—he'd truly had no say in any of this—but overall, this is just what happens now. She isn't upset about it; it isn't upsetting. No one is hurt or sick or dead. Yes, it's big and sort of life-changing and, okay, maybe a little scary, but…

She swallows. "I don't mind, love. Truly, I don't." She brings a hand up to touch his head, brushes her thumb over the gentle dip of his temple. He finally lifts his eyes back to her face.

"How are you still not freaking out about this?" His voice comes out raspy. "Roxanne, I am—I am in your head. I am changing you irreparably. Permanently."

She hesitates. It's just enough time for his whole face to finally crumple.

"Oh," she says, "no, love, come here," and she pulls him in and wraps her arms around him, the same way she did the first night they acknowledged the link to each other. "Megamind. Hey. It's…it's heavy. It is." She holds him against her, rubs one hand down his spine and up again, but he's so stiff. "But I've thought about this a lot, these past few months, and you're talking like you think I don't have any options left. I do still have some choices I can make, love, linked to you or not."

"Minion," Megamind chokes, pulling away and stretching a hand around her. "Minion."

"Here, Sir," Minion says, darting forward and dropping into a sit-crouch by the bedside, glancing wide-eyed back and forth between the two bipeds. His two bipeds, it seems.

Megamind flattens his palm on Minion's dome, and Minion tips toward it. "I'm still linked to her, Minion. And, and now…"

"I heard." He manages a shaky smile. "I…frankly, I should have noticed. You felt different last night, too, but I didn't realize why. I didn't realize it was someone else."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about this, Minion." Roxanne shakes her head. "You didn't ask for this any more than—" but he pins her with a stare that raises the hairs on the back of her neck.

"You kept him grounded," he says flatly, all his fins flaring, the lights on his sides flickering up and down in a complicated, shimmering ripple effect. "More than this, you kept. him. safe."

She swallows again, unable to look away.

"And you helped him spin," he continues. "You helped bring me home, you made sure I had a home to come back to. Everything I could have possibly hoped for, you have done." He pauses, still holding her in his predator's gaze. "Miss Ritchi, words cannot express how proud I am to have you with me."

She blinks at him, then lunges sideways to hug him tightly around his dome.

("Cool," Wayne says from the door, and is ignored. "Cool. I'm…hey, so, I'm gonna go finish making those pancakes? Yeah? Yeah. Later taters.")

Minion pats her on the back a couple times, and after a moment, Roxanne braces a foot on the floor and sits back up. "I know there's still stuff you wanted to discuss," she says, struggling to keep her voice even, "but I…that means a lot, Minion. Thank you." She offers him a smile, one that's only a little bit wobbly, but nearly loses all her composure when he smiles back wide enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes.

"To be honest," he says, his tone suddenly much lighter, "I think you may have covered most of it already, Miss Ritchi. You called him love."

"Oh." The color rising in her cheeks all but answers that. "Yes. Yes, I did. I meant that, you know. And I'm sorry we didn't tell you, by the way, we…we've been together for a little while, now."

"We thought it might be too much," Megamind says quietly, and Roxanne turns back toward him.

Minion swallows hard and nods a little. It is a lot to take in, but… "No harm done, Sir. This is…well, frankly, this is my ideal outcome, too."

"And I did mean it," Roxanne says again, looking at Megamind. "I love you."

He scrunches his face at her, skeptical. "You don't know me," he tries.

"I've been your exclusive kidnappee for years, and we've been living together for months," she counters. She's not surprised to be having this conversation again, honestly, not with him all in a tangle and able to think again. "I've got a pretty good feel for you at this point."

"You don't know me with Minion."

She sighs and lifts her hands up to stroke her thumbs out across his eyebrows as though she can smooth away his worry. "I told you before," she says, while he's still off-guard at that, "he changes how you think, not who you are. And, again: exclusive kidnappee. For years, Megamind." She smiles. "I'm your kidnappee, yes? And you're my supervillain. Sweetheart, come and have breakfast." She presses a hopeful kiss to his forehead. "There's coffee. Minion made pancakes."

"Speaking of which," Minion pipes up, "there is still a lot of batter left, and I have no idea if—if Metro Man has any idea what he's doing, so—"

(He makes himself scarce. Leaves the door to Roxanne's bedroom open, just in case.)

(His head is spinning. Okay? Okay! So, no prodding or nudging needed at all! This is a surprise, a big adjustment for sure, but such a relief!)

(He's—still very much not okay, when he thinks about it—but he doesn't have to be. He doesn't have to be okay yet. This is. Such a relief.)

(Possibly he should be bothered about all this, but Minion is a pragmatist. This is what happens now. It's a fact of the world. And it is, really, a massive load off his shoulders.)

Megamind reaches up and catches Roxanne's hands, pulls them down. For one awful moment, she thinks he's going to push her away again, but then, slowly, he laces his fingers with hers.

"If you're sure," he whispers. "If you're sure, then. Okay." But the corners of his mouth are turned down, and Roxanne knows he's still caught in his head, in his tangling thoughts—she can't shake the memory of how he clutched at her that first night, begging to stay, utterly and completely convinced there was no coming back from this, and she remembers him saying I'm nothing much, I've never done anything, much, worth anything, and—

"I'm sure," she says. "But I don't think you are."

"You. Mentioned choices," he says, after a moment. "I…Roxanne, forgive me, but…I don't see what choices you can possibly have."

She tilts her head and studies him for a moment. He's upset, he's frightened, he's kicking himself, but there is a light in his eyes she hasn't seen in more than a year. It was there the night they danced, almost, but not like this.

"I can choose to walk away," she tells him, voice quiet, and his breath catches. "I could leave, if I wanted to. If I wasn't happy." She looks down, away from the broken-open look on his face. "I can't hear you, not like Minion can. I wouldn't even feel cut away, I bet."

"And if you did?" He swallows. "You were so disoriented last night. Roxanne, this is—dangerous, this is—could very easily wind up hurting you terribly—or Minion—if, if something happened to one of us, any of us, you'd—"

"I would learn to get by," Roxanne replies. "Megamind, sometimes things happen. We learn to live regardless. If something happened to you, or if I didn't want this…I could learn to get by without you. If I had to."

There's a long pause. And then, suddenly, Megamind says, "Do you promise?" and Roxanne looks up again. His expression has gone slack and strangely urgent. "You would walk away anyway? If you were unhappy? Do you promise?"

"If I—yes, if I wanted to," she says, startled. That wasn't quite the response she was expecting. "But I don't want to. Megamind, I want you in my head. I want you here." She manages something like a smile, remembering his words from the night before. "I'm your mess, remember? And I love you. I want this. Truly, I do."

His hands tighten, but his face pinches closed and he looks away.

"I'm serious," she says, her heart clenching uncomfortably. "And—and Megamind, you're a supergenius, for heaven's sake. I'd bet money you can find a way to break this without hurting any of us." She nudges him a little but he doesn't look at her. She swallows. "But even if you do—and if you do, that's okay, we can absolutely break this if that's what you want—but even if you don't want to be brainmates anymore," and she means this, she really truly does, even if it breaks her heart, "I will still want you with me."

Megamind shuts his eyes.

Roxanne pulls back a little bit and looks at him again, the way he's sitting on her bed in her morning-light bedroom with his head bowed and his eyes shuttered because he can't or won't believe her, and she thinks—sort of three things almost all at the same time: how much she loves him, and how on earth can she help with this, and she would link with him on her own if she had the option, and—all of that snaps together into an idea that strikes like lightning.

Oh.

Hey, now.

She pauses, blinking at herself. It isn't a small idea and it seems almost out of nowhere, but it sinks in behind her breastbone and sends tingles of yes all the way up to the crown of her head. She wants this, as soon as she thinks of it.

When she told Megamind she's thought about the link a lot, she wasn't kidding. Over the past few days, especially. Probably way more than Megamind thinks she has, based on how upset he is, and this…this does feel like a logical next step. It feels like the answer to the few lingering questions she has.

She makes a decision.

"Hang on," she says, getting to her feet, "wait a moment." Megamind blinks back around at her, startled, alarmed. "Wait, just wait," Roxanne says, backing away so she can go over to the little whatsit box on her dresser.

She finds what she needs in under five seconds, and clutches it in her pocket for a moment to warm the cold metal.

Yes. This. This is right. This is what she wants to happen now.

She's still in her pajamas. She hasn't even combed her hair—it's sticking straight up in the back, she sees when she glances at her reflection in the mirror, and her eyes are still puffy from crying last night. Ah well. Can't be helped. Megamind has seen her at her worst, surely, at some point during a kidnapping, and so has Minion, probably. As they'll see her at her best. They're all three of them still young; their best has not yet come and gone.

Okay. Deep breath. Swallow hard. 

"Megamind," she says, turning to come back over and sit next to him. He has his elbows on his knees, again, and his head is back in his hands. "Megamind, listen to me. This bond…I don't know much about how it works. But I know—and I do promise—link or no link, I can choose to walk away, if I need to. And if you want to break this, I will still be here."

"I don't want to," he chokes. "That's…that's the whole problem. I, I didn't want this, but—I have it, now, and—I don't want to break it." He shakes his head. "Roxanne, I—I'm so sorry, I—I should—if I was a better person, I'd—"

He makes another disgusted scoffing noise in the back of his throat but he does let her pull him in, this time, his shoulders hitching as she puts her arms around him, thinking hard about how to do this in a way Megamind will actually understand.

Her head says he's right, he probably should break it, let's be real; but her heart screams back, fuck that entire concept; Roxanne does not want to break away from him ever, dangerous or not. To love is to put yourself in danger. This is not a revelation.

"I don't want to," he says again, his voice cracking, "I want to keep you, but—this is changing you, it is, and—Roxanne, I'm so sorry."

"No," she whispers, thinking oh, change, and suddenly she knows exactly how to phrase this, what she needs to say. "No, Megamind, it's okay if you don't want to. I want to keep you, too."

"But I—"

"No," she says again, insistent. She sits back and grips his shoulders. "No. Here, sit up. Look at me. I need to ask you something. Please. I need to ask you something."

She tugs him up, waits until he finally lifts his eyes to hers. "Do you remember, years ago, you were finishing some last-minute adjustments to the scheme du jour and we were talking, and you told me my understanding of what a 'particle' is was fundamentally flawed?"

He blinks a couple times. Gulps. Frowns at her.

"You said, particles aren't pieces of matter, they're processes," and yes, she is aware that this probably sounds like a profoundly baffling segue. "Continuously evolving and changing wavefunctions that are only defined by their interactions with other particles." She squeezes his bony shoulders, stares into his eyes. "Do you remember?"

Slowly, he nods. His forehead hasn't relaxed any, but he's meeting her gaze and some of the bitterness has faded out of his expression. He mostly just looks puzzled, now, and curious about where she's going with all this.

She takes another deep breath. "You said, nothing in existence exists unto itself. Nothing in existence can exist unto itself. Everything is a system, a single cumulative interaction between cumulative interactions of waveform functions, all constantly acting and reacting on and with and to each other." Smiling at the memory, she moves a hand to brush her fingertips over the places he kissed her that first night—his mouth, the side of his neck, his forehead—traces one to the next like points of a constellation. "And this is how we exist," she remembers softly, still smiling into his eyes, "in a constantly inconstant state of interactive change, as the physical expression of a world of probabilities."

Megamind just sits and stares at her, his eyelashes fluttering with the lines she's drawing on his skin, until she finally slides her hands down his arms to take his hands in hers, and then he sort of startles.

"You remembered," he stammers, before she can continue. "You—remembered that conversation?"

"It sounded like poetry; of course, I remembered," she says, grinning a little at how dumbstruck he looks. "I wrote it down, actually, what I could remember when I got home. But the really important thing I remember you saying was, these waveforms, these particle processes…none of them can exist as they are without the rest of them. Do you remember that?" she asks. She knows he does, but again, she waits until he nods.

"Then listen. People come into our lives all the time, and people fade out of our lives all the time. That's the nature of relationships with other people: some last and grow, and others…don't." She swallows hard. "Sometimes it's okay when you lose one, and other times it feels like—like a piece of you is missing, like you'll never get it back.

"But they all change us, Megamind. All of them. And we keep living, changed, by the people who are gone, and we keep living and changing with the people who stay. So…link or no link, I am already changed and changing because of you. Irreparably," she stresses, and his eyes go wide as he realizes her point, "permanently. Link or no link, whether you go or stay, I would not exist as I am without you." She smiles at him again, brushes her thumbs over the backs of his fingers. "That became true the first day we met.

"And no matter what happens, I am so glad." She leans forward and rests her forehead against his, realizes he's shaking. Oh, sweetheart, she thinks, oh, my love. She presses forward a little, nods against him, and he chokes. "I am glad my particles are interacting with your particles," she says firmly. "I am glad to be changed by you. I love you. And if I had the choice—if I did have a choice, if you offered me a choice—I would choose you."

He makes a soft, pained sound, and then he surprises her by ducking forward and kissing her, skating his cool fingertips over the line of her jaw. Good, he's listening. Maybe he even believes her; from his reaction, it seems like he might. She's going to proceed either way, whether he believes her or not, because she wants to, because she loves him. But it is good to know he's listening.

She takes another deep breath, releases it.

"Okay," he whispers, and finally puts his arms around her, finally lets her hold him. "Okay. I'm sorry. I just. I wish you had a choice."

"I know, but—I, um, I haven't actually asked you the main part of my question, yet. Please look at me?"

He sits back and blinks his eyes open at her, cocks his head.

"Tell me again, you love me?"

That gets a smile. A small, wobbly one, but it's a smile. Those were his words, too. "I do," he says quietly. "Yes, completely. You know I do."

Roxanne rises to stand facing him with a weight in her pocket and a light in her heart like a star. "I love you, too," she says. "And I do have a choice. My choice is you. And—"

Roxanne leans down and Megamind automatically tilts his head back for another kiss, because even uncertain and upset, he's still one hundred percent ready for kisses. Roxanne is still kissing him as she reaches into her pocket, as she sinks onto one knee in front of him.

He pulls his head up, then frowns confusedly down at her, but she isn't going to give him much time for confusion. She holds up a silver ring, scratched somewhat with years of living but still shining in the morning sunlight. It's not very big, but Megamind's fingers are thin.

And his eyes, right now, are enormous. He's frozen, not breathing, his whole face slack with astonishment.

"—I am choosing you," Roxanne says, her heart slamming in her ears and tripping over every other beat, "because I am in love with you. Irreparably, permanently, unfathomably in love with you. I want to be bound to you, I want keep and be kept by you. I want—I want to be entangled with you on a fundamental quantum level. Megamind, I want to wake up next to you every morning until I die.

"And so now—so now you have a choice."

Chapter Text

Soundtrack Link (YouTube)

Wayne pours his second cup of coffee with ice in it when he finishes unloading Roxanne's dishwasher. Minion won't let him make any pancakes, and keeping busy is better than just leaning on his elbows on the kitchen island, but unfortunately, now he's out of things to do. He already washed all the rest of the dishes except for the ones Minion is using.

Wayne has never been good at sitting still.

He sips his coffee, grimaces. The ice hasn't been in long enough to bring the temperature down very far. Ah, well. It can wait a few minutes while he checks to see if Roxanne has the ingredients for cake. He's pretty sure she won't have buttermilk, but that's okay; she has some wizened lemons in a decorative bowl on her countertop, so as long as she also has milk in the refrigerator, he'll be able to make a decent buttermilk substitute.

Megamind probably wasn't serious about the whole cake thing and Wayne knows it, but it's been an age since he's had time to bake. He still doesn't really have time now, but his next meeting with the Chamber is already going to suck completely; he might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb. Might as well put off going back to work a little longer. He hasn't heard too many sirens in the past couple days, thankfully.

(Also, everything still hurts. That's another fine excuse not to go Metro-Manning it up just yet.)

Most of the pain from last night has faded, at least. Looks like Megamind was right about the whole draining-at-an-angle thing. For a moment, Wayne wonders if he should maybe be worried about how well-informed his old nemesis is about his flight systems, but…meh. Megamind is his friend, now. It probably doesn't matter if he knows how to take Metro Man apart.

Aha, he's in luck: Roxanne does, indeed, have all the stuff he needs to make cake. Awesome. He pulls the stand mixer's bowl down from its home on top of her refrigerator and gives it a cursory rinse to get the dust out. The mixer itself stays where it is. He won't need it.

Minion glances over at him as he opens the fridge and starts gathering his things. "What are you doing?"

"Making a cake," Wayne replies shortly, setting some butter aside on the counter to soften for icing later.

"…Why?"

He shrugs. "Blue says he owes you a bunch of them. I figured I'd get started. Can you set the oven to three fifty?"

Minion pauses, then squints at him a little. "Why does Sir owe me cake?" He punches in the numbers to preheat, taking the dish of pancakes out as he does so.

"No idea." Wayne passes him Roxanne's roll of aluminum foil to put over the pancakes as he retrieves the mixer's paddle attachment from a drawer. And then he sighs and cuts one of the elderly lemons in half to squeeze it into a measuring cup. "Something about…oh, learning and growing beyond who we used to be, and Metro Man just being a job instead of, y'know, my whole frickin identity." There, that looks like about a tablespoon and a half of lemon juice. "He also said he owes you some kind of fancy new stove—you should definitely hold him to that; it sounded like a really nice one." He adds milk in on top of the lemon juice, stirs everything together, and sets the mixture aside.

Minion is quiet for a while, filling the pancake batter bowl with water to soak in Roxanne's sink. When he turns, Metro Man is cutting circles out of parchment paper.

"Thank you," Minion says, steeling himself.

Metro Man glances up at him. "Huh?"

Minion swallows. "Thank you," he says again, carefully, "for—for helping me. Us. Sir and me. And Miss Ritchi."

"Oh." Metro Man shrugs. "Hey, no problem. I don't wanna say 'anytime,' because I'd really rather not do it again, but…let's be real," he says, rubbing the cake pans he has sitting on the counter with some kind of shortening and flour mixture, "I probably would if I had to." He smiles wryly down at the pans. "Roxie's right, my sense of self-preservation is, uh. Pretty nonexistent, anymore."

Huh. That wasn't quite the response Minion was expecting. He was expecting puffery, boasting. It seems everyone is full of surprises this morning. "Sir said you almost drowned."

Another shrug. "Yeah, I don't really do the whole water thing." He sighs, pulls the mixing bowl towards him, starts adding ingredients to it without bothering to measure. "But Blue was a wreck without you, from what Roxie told me. And from what I saw, you weren't doing so hot, either." He shakes his head. "I don't…that's not right. You two need each other." He picks up the paddle attachment and puts it in the bowl, holding the stem with the tips of his fingers. "And I need him," he continues in a very frank tone of voice, carefully spinning the mixing bowl on Roxanne's counter with one hand and twirling the paddle attachment with the other. "I told him, I don't know what all he was doing behind the scenes, but my job is a heck of a lot harder without him. Even just the brainbots providing backup was a huge help." His lips twist. "I should probably talk to the Chamber about getting another couple of heroes into Metro at some point, but," he shrugs and sets the paddle aside to reach for the eggs, "we'll see how Blue does, first."

"Why didn't you before?" Minion asks, watching as he cracks eggs into the mixing bowl.

"Eh. I've mentioned it a couple times. They've never felt it necessary." Metro Man is quiet for a moment, his mouth a thin line, his brow furrowed. It's been a long time since Minion has seen him outside of an Evil Plot. He's not used to seeing the larger alien so somber. "Plus the thing with you and Megamind was…would've been hard to explain to someone else. Not taking either of you out for good, leaving you in the Lair and taking him to straight to prison instead of jail."

He sets the paddle aside after beating the fourth egg in and looks up. "And, uh. Minion, I want to say. I'm sorry." He grips the island with both his huge hands, leans on it. "I told Blue last night, but I figure I ought to say it to you, too. I was awful to you. For a lot of years. And I know it, and I'm sorry."

Minion stares at him, completely thrown. Good lord, he really did return to a different universe than the one he left.

After a moment, Metro Man sort of shrugs again and looks back down, pulls a different bowl over and starts whisking flour and baking powder and salt together. "Anyway." He heaves a sigh. "It's good to have you back. Good you're doing okay, now."

There are several things Minion has wanted to say to Metro Man for a while, in the letter-you-write-but-never-send sense. Most of them begin and end with 'fuck you.' None of them feel appropriate right now.

Metro Man looks about as unhappy as it's possible for a man making a cake to be. He adds the flour and milk-lemon mixtures to the mixing bowl bit by bit, mixing every so often, frowning down at the bowls the whole time. It isn't until Minion says, "Well," that he looks up again.

"Well," Minion says, still in the same careful tone as before, "it's…good to be back. It's an…adjustment, certainly, but. I'm happy to be home." Understatement of the century. He's going to be trying to forget the lake for the next three decades, he's sure. "Are you, um. No lasting damage, I hope?"

"Shouldn't be," Metro Man tells him, after a startled sort of pause. "I feel loads better than I did yesterday. I bet I'll be back on top of my game by tomorrow."

Minion nods. "Good," he says, as politely as he can. "That's…good."

He still has absolutely no idea what to make of the fact that Metro Man apparently dropped himself into sixty feet of water for him, any more than he has any idea what to do with the fact that Metro Man just apologized to him. Metro Man is far too full of himself to ever second-guess his actions, and he can't swim.

Apparently, only one of those facts is true.

He watches the hero pour cake batter into the pans he prepared, watches him slide them into the oven. And he's about to clear his throat and say something like, so, how exactly do you think the city is going to react to Sir becoming a hero, but Metro Man puts his elbows and forearms on the kitchen island and leans on them, his head hanging. His hair is shaggy without his usual product, and streaked with significantly more gray than Minion remembers.

Then he lifts his head a little and mumbles, "Entangled on…? Roxie, what're you…? Oh," and he snaps his head up and looks at Minion, wide-eyed. "I think she's about to propose," he blurts.

Minion stares at him, wondering if he's heard this correctly. Propose? Propose what?

"Come on," Metro Man hisses, his eyes huge as he waves at Minion to follow him back over toward Miss Ritchi's bedroom, "come on!"

Confused, Minion joins him in the doorway. Having Metro Man in such close proximity makes him nervous, but he tells himself again: there's a truce, they're allies now, Metro Man seriously stuck his neck out for Minion and Megamind's combined behalf and—

Miss Ritchi is on one knee in front of Sir, who looks more or less like he's been hit in the face with a pan. She's holding up something small and glittering silver.

Minion's heart flips over and he claps both metal hands over the front of his tank. Oh. Oh! Then he did hear Metro Man correctly! And—oh! Several things about Sir's attitude toward Miss Ritchi make more sense, now. This makes sense. She said she loves him, and—if this is how she meant it—well then that completely eliminates the need for a shovel talk, for one thing, not that he had any idea how to threaten one of the people he loves in the first place—oh this is a total unknown but it's wonderful, this is excellent, and if Megamind doesn't accept then Minion will punt him into next week—Minion's job just got a whole lot easier, good lord—

"So now you have a choice."

She pauses, her heart in her mouth. It's funny, but she honestly can't tell if she wants to laugh or cry, because Megamind's eyes are almost perfectly round, his lips are parted in shock, and he's—bald and blue and bright and bold and beautiful, with the early-morning summer sun lighting half his face and casting the other half into shadow. The rain from last night has blown over, the storm has passed, and Megamind is halfway in darkness and halfway in light and all the way in love with Roxanne.

And boy howdy, this sure isn't something Roxanne was expecting to do this morning when Minion said I made pancakes, but what the hell; she's all the way in love with Megamind right back and she has no hesitation whatsoever.

No hesitation, but she is definitely about to start crying again, so—quick, quick, before her throat closes—

"Megamind? Will you marry me?"

He makes a sort of choked-off gulping noise and flings himself off the bed and into her arms. Knocks her totally off balance, but that's okay, she already knows he won't drop her. And of course he doesn't; he steadies her immediately without thinking, his long hands fluttering everywhere like he doesn't know how he wants to hold her first, both of them sort of kneeling and sort of sitting on the floor. And ah, aha, here we go: Roxanne is laughing and crying! So, she has all her bases covered.

"That's a yes?" she manages to ask when she finally juggles his left hand in front of her. "You will?"

"Yes," Megamind gasps, "yes, yes," and he stares down at his hand like he honestly cannot believe what's happening as she slips the ring into place. Roxanne, still cry-laughing, grips his massive cranium in both hands and plants little kisses all over his face and forehead until he suddenly pulls his head up and catches her mouth with his, kisses her hard and deep, his right arm tight around her shoulders, his left hand clenched in her hair. He keeps his forehead pressed to hers when he finally breaks away, and for a moment they sit like that—on their knees on the floor, sort of panting, Roxanne beaming and Megamind stunned mostly speechless, their arms around each other.

Roxanne swallows, finds her voice again. "The, um, the ring was my grandmother's. It's—I can get you a new one—"

"No," he rasps, pulling his left hand down where he can see it again and flexing his fingers. He clears his throat. "No this is good I like this one."

She laughs again. "Really? You do?"

He nods frantically against her forehead. "Never taking it off. You can pry it off my cold dead hand seventy years from now."

Roxanne snorts.

"Are you serious?" he asks suddenly, his voice urgent. "Are you—Roxanne, are you—I'm—"

"I am not going to propose to you as a joke," she protests, appalled, holding him tighter. He's so much harder than she is, every ounce of him muscle or bone, but he fits himself against her like he can't possibly belong anywhere else.

"No, not—not like that—" He gulps. "I just—have to ask."

She gives up and just squeezes him as hard as she can, clenches both hands against his back and tucks her face into the shallow curve of his neck. "Yes," she says, her voice muffled, "yes, I am serious, I want to marry you. I know it's soon, I know it's sudden, I don't care. I don't care. I want to share my life with you. We'll make it work." She sniffs hard. "This link—I know it shouldn't have happened like it did, but Megamind, to hell with should, honestly, you're—my ideal outcome, too. It's crazy, but it works."

Megamind turns his face to her hair, the whole of him trembling with—he isn't sure. Joy? Is this joy? He thinks it might be. It isn't disbelief; incredibly, he does believe her. He has the truth of her humming in the back of his mind. He doesn't need to understand why or how she loves him; for now, it's enough to know she does.

And—okay, so, maybe it's not such a bad thing that he doesn't want to break the link he has with her? If this is how badly she wants this? And he really doesn't want to break it. She's part of him now. Losing her would be like cutting off his own arm.

Quantum field theory. He can—he can hardly believe she remembered that conversation—she wrote it down? She thought so highly of what he said that she—

Suddenly he's laughing. He can't help it. Roxanne pulls back a little and looks at him, questioning, but for a moment all Megamind can do is shake his head at her and laugh.

Eventually he collects himself enough to wheeze, "I want to be entangled with you on a fundamental quantum level? Roxanne," he strokes a hand through her hair, then stands and tugs her up to her feet, "Roxanne, you're—what the hell—"

"Well, I do," she insists, grinning at him, her arms around him and his hands on her waist. "And you're the biggest nerd I've ever met, so, yeah, you get a nerd proposal. Besides, that's how the link works, isn't it?" she adds, as Megamind laughs and laughs. "It has to be, because the only alternative I can think of is magic, and I know that can't be it."

Megamind shrugs. "Who knows?" he exclaims, his smile wide and blinding white; god, she's missed seeing him smile like that. "Minion and I never figured it out. Maybe it is entanglement, who knows."

"Mm." She ducks her head forward and kisses him again, quickly. "I meant it," she tells him. "We can figure out how to break it if you want to, but—"

"I don't," he says fervently, "I really, really don't."

"Good," she says, satisfied. "Then don't, because neither do I. I didn't expect this when I hauled your skinny butt home over my shoulder back in May, but I am in it for the long haul, Megamind. I ride or die."

"I see that," he returns, his mouth curling into a smile, and then he says, "Incoming!" and hops backward just in time for Minion to barrel into them and sweep both of them up into the air, Megamind in one arm and Roxanne in the other.

"You two," he cries, spinning around with them. "You two! I leave you two alone for one year and you're getting engaged! And here I thought I was going to have to poke you into being friends!"

Roxanne laughs, a little self-consciously. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Absolutely not," he exclaims, squeezing her. "Oh, congratulations, both of you!"

Megamind has both his arms around Minion's dome, his forehead pressed to Minion's dome, all his teeth bared in his blazing smile. Minion's little face is pressed against the glass on the other side of the dome, and Roxanne has to grin at the picture they make like that.

There's. Something missing. She isn't sure what, but she knows she's missing something—she should—she should feel—

Not more, not better; there's no way she could feel either of those things harder than she is right in this moment, but—

Connected? She's connected to Megamind, she can feel that well enough, if not the same way he does, but Minion-

Oh.

Another thought hits her, another idea. This one does hurt to think about, a little, but it's a living sort of pain. Like stretching a cramped muscle, or running downhill. Like growth.

Megamind suddenly gasps and wriggles his whole body. "Oh! Oh I just—that magnet, I know exactly what's wrong with it, Minion put me down—oh and I should—let go of me, Minion, you old guppy—"

"I'll help, Sir," Minion says as he crouches to set both his bipeds carefully back down on the ground. But Roxanne catches his arm before he can leave.

"Minion," she says. "Wait, can you…could you wait just a moment? I—I need to talk to you, too." He blinks down at her, but nods. Megamind waits, too, hovering at Minion's side, still unwilling to leave him alone for more than a few seconds at a stretch without provocation.

She darts back over to her whatsit box, pokes through it until she finds what she's looking for. She's running mostly on gut feeling, right now; it's a new sensation. Usually she thinks these things through a little more, but there's just—there's a rightness to this that can't be ignored. She can't ignore it. Is that Megamind's influence, or Minion's? Who knows? Does it even matter?

She turns. Minion is on his feet again and watching her, one huge hand resting on Megamind's upper back, and he's smiling, but he is—nervous. Roxanne knows Minion well enough to know when he's nervous or has misgivings; his little face is so expressive. And she may not know exactly what concerns he might have, but she knows—she knows what she wants him to know.

"Minion," she says, coming back over, "I don't want you to think I'm trying to replace you."

He wrinkles his face down at her, smiling, his nervousness fading somewhat. "Replace me," he repeats, sounding quizzical. "Sir and I don't kiss."

She shakes her head, trying to think about how she's going to do this even as she replies. "Romantic or platonic, whichever, whatever, I don't want to get in your way. And I—"

"Miss Ritchi," he cuts her off, his tone going unusually sharp, "did you misunderstand me earlier when I said I was proud to have you with me? Was I somehow unclear? I didn't think I was." He frowns. "Are you in this family or aren't you?"

Oh. Okay. Never mind the preamble, just say it; it sounds like they're on the same page in terms of certainty. All that matters now is symbolism.

So Roxanne faces him and swallows hard. "Minion," she says, clenching her hand around the other item she pulled from her box, feeling her breath go cold and shivery behind her sternum. "You were very clear. And—and now I want to be very clear. I—you have a link to me that you can feel, and—but I can't feel it. And I want to."

This is what she wants to happen now. This is right.

"So Minion I want you to have this," she says, too quickly, and holds out a disc on a very long chain. Plain polished gold or brass, with a single bright stone in the center, set in a sort of small star- or compass-shaped print. Minion blinks down at it, then down at her. "It—I think you should—it feels right. For you. Um." This is worse than she'd expected. She's not going to make it, she's going to cry. "You don't have to wear it, just—just keep it? Here, look," she opens it for him, stalling for time and composure, and he leans down to peer closer. "It's a locket, see, that's—me. Me as a kid. My, um, my granny and my great-aunt, they were—they were very close. So, so there's a matching locket to this one, and I—and I have it. So. We match."

Minion straightens, visibly touched and visibly puzzled. "Thank you, Miss Ritchi," he says as she closes it and hands it to him. "Whose picture is in the other one?"

Hm. That's. Not a good question right now, when she's already feeling fragile.

She breathes in. Breathing out is hard, though, and she feels her face pinch as her eyes fill despite her best efforts. What she told Megamind weeks ago was true: she doesn't mind carrying this around with her, but it will always hurt.

(It would have been nice if she could have brought Rachel home, too.)

"Oh," says Megamind, very quietly, behind her. Her breath is too big for her chest and her face is wet and she can't see because everything has gone water-blurry, and ugh, this is unnecessary.

"Um," she manages, gulping, wishing she could go get some tissues but feeling like she's going to shatter if she moves, "I—sorry. I just—I think you should. You should have that now."

"It was your sister's," Megamind says, and she bites her lips together and nods.

She's really hoping this all makes sense to them. It only somewhat makes sense to her, but—this is a link, a human link; this is what she can do. Heirlooms and stories, trinkets and whatsits and photos, pieces of memory handed down. And Minion said—he said are you in this family or aren't you—and she is in his family. But now he's in hers, as well.

Minion stares down at her for a long few seconds, then reaches out his free hand and pulls her in as he drops back down into a crouch, and she puts her arms around his dome again and squeezes hard.

So maybe he does understand. There's still distance between them, a lake's depth of distance; Minion isn't who he was when the gun went off a year ago. But he is himself, still, and he always will be, and they're family now.

Roxanne pulls away after a few seconds, feeling a lot lighter. She sniffs, and sends Minion a smile, and he rubs his hand down her back, pats her shoulder.

"Thank you, Miss Ritchi," he says, in a very wobbly voice, and—oh, his fins are stiff and trembling. She leans forward to fog a breath on his glass, quickly draws a lopsided happy face. Minion snorts, and some of the tension eases out of his fins. Good.

"You guys have to get me a picture of Minion to put in my locket with Rachel," she says, and Minion pats her gently as Megamind pulls her into a tight hug.

"I think that can be managed," Minion says, his voice only a little unsteady.

Good. So, that's okay, then.

Wayne raps his knuckles on the doorframe. "Heyyyy," he singsongs, "hey guys, holy moly, congratulations! Roxie, I unloaded your dishwasher. Also," he adds, swooping forward and scooping her and Megamind into the air, "flying best friend tackle hug!" He spins them around twice, squeezing just shy of too tight, then puts them back down again.

"You're flying again!" Megamind exclaims, and Wayne scoffs at him.

"Course I am! I told you I'd be fine." Then he sets his hands on his hips. "Seriously, though, you guys, come have breakfast. There is no way I can eat all these pancakes by myself."

Feeling absurdly normal considering she also feels like the rotation of her little internal world has just reversed direction, Roxanne returns to her leisurely breakfast at the kitchen island with Wayne. Megamind inhales five pancakes one after the other and then bounds straight over the sofa to reassemble his electromagnet, Minion clanking after him. Roxanne watches them go, smiling fondly, then rolls her eyes at Wayne and shakes her head. He chuckles.

Then he clears his throat and says quietly, "Hey. What, uh. What kind of ring do you want? I'll pass it along to him."

Roxanne looks up at him, startled and pleased. "Oh, would you? I—I really just want—something along their aesthetic? Blue and black? A band is fine, I don't need anything fancy."

He grins. "No big stone to get caught in your filing cabinet so they have to call me to come cut you free?"

"That happened once! One time, Wayne! One time!" She laughs and leans sideways, tips her head briefly against his arm. "Thanks, by the way," she adds. "You're…you're a really good friend."

He pats her gently on the back. His hand is the size of her head. "Hey, no worries, Roxie. Getting jewelry unstuck from office furniture is my specialty."

Roxanne snorts. She wasn't talking about that, and he knows it, and she knows he knows it. So she'll…probably let it slide.

It hasn't escaped her notice that Wayne is eating his breakfast standing with both feet on the floor and leaning on the island, instead of pantomiming sitting in a chair the way he usually does. He may be able to fly again, but he isn't staying in flight, which is unusual.

"You feeling okay?" she asks him, and he turns his head and glares down at her.

"The next person who asks me if I'm okay is getting dropped off your balcony," he says flatly. "Yes. I am okay. I am aces, I am fine. I do not need anybody worrying about me."

(Across the room, Megamind's head comes up. He's frowning.)

Wayne stands and puts his plate in the sink, then grabs the butter and eggs off the counter where he left them earlier, pulls out a bowl. Starts carefully separating egg yolks. "Roxie, can you cut the butter into cubes? Also, you're about to be out of eggs. Sorry."

She blinks. "Sure," she says, startled. "Yeah, no problem. What are you doing?"

"Stuff," he replies shortly. "Hang on, focusing."

He originally got into baking in order to refine his strength and speed. It was his grandmother's idea; she needed egg whites for a recipe and challenged Wayne to separate the yolks. It was the first time he ever picked up an egg. It was also the first time he crushed an egg by picking it up. It wouldn't be the last. He's pretty good at everything else in the process, these days, but eggs are still a challenge.

Absently cutting butter into chunks on a plate, Roxanne glances across the room. Minion is hunched over and looks like he's tinkering with something, but Megamind is still sitting bolt upright on the floor, gazing over the sofa. He makes eye contact with Roxanne behind Wayne's back, cocks his head. She shrugs expansively, and he shrugs back—and then he smiles at her, his expression going soft, and Roxanne all but melts. He's everything she ever wanted and never knew was right in front of her, and he's hers.

Then she glances at Wayne, who's staring fixedly at the egg yolk he's gently transferring back and forth between shells, and—oh.

"Wayne," she says, "you remember how you offered financial help when I mentioned getting a bigger place for me and Megamind to share?"

He glances up.

"Why didn't you offer to put him up in the Manor, first?"

He snorts and bloops the yolk into the bowl. "Roxie, please. Do you have any idea how long that man has been in love with you?" He raises an eyebrow at her as he picks up a whisk. "And he's your type. I'm not getting in the way of that, I'm here to enable that, are you insane?"

Oh.

She comes around the island and wraps her arms around him. Squeezes hard. "You are the best. Thank you."

"Like I said, I got you," he says, patting her again. Then he snaps his arm down around her and pins her against his side. "Aha! And I got you," he adds, grinning. "You can't escape."

She bursts out laughing, struggles ineffectually against his indomitable strength. "Aagh! No!" she exclaims while he laughs. "Wayne you are too warm, oh my god, let go of me!"

"Never!" he cheers, but he tosses her up onto his shoulder anyway, and she bops him gently on the head with a fist.

Across the room, Megamind glances up again, grins, and goes back to his electromagnet. It's nearly finished. He has all the parts, and he knows where they go, and Minion knows where they go, too, and oh man, this feels fantastic—he knows what he has and he knows what to do and he knows where to start and he knows so many things! And he can remember all of them when he thinks of them! Instead of thinking of them and immediately forgetting what he was thinking about and having to start over from the beginning!

And something out here smells amazing!

"Everything is different, isn't it, Minion," he says, holding the case steady while Minion works the screwdriver. Ordinarily it would be the other way around, but Minion's fine motor skills need the practice.

"It is," Minion agrees. "But…that's not such a bad thing, I think, Sir."

Megamind frowns a little. "I don't…I still don't know if I would say it was worth it," he says carefully, because—Roxanne is here, with him, has stood at his side for months helping him learn to walk and will stand at his side and in his mind for the next however many years—but Minion spent a year in hell and Megamind spent only a few months shy of a year in a similar place, and what is that worth? The effects of being ripped apart will affect them for the rest of their lives; what is that worth?

Minion glances up. "I think…do you want to know what I think?"

"Always, Minion."

Minion grins at him quickly, but then he has to dive for the screw he's just fumbled. Megamind bites his lip around a laugh. "I think," Minion says, slapping his hand down on the screw and then carefully picking it up, "we'll never know how our lives would have gone. Or ended," he adds, quiet. "Maybe you would have been dead this year. We don't know." He swallows. "So, so I think…it's probably not useful to think about it in terms of worth. But we'll be okay. You're going to marry Miss Ritchi. We'll be okay."

Megamind's heart does a sort of flip."I am," he whispers, looking down at the ring on his finger. Roxanne's grandmother's ring, a piece of her history, now a piece of his present. "I am."

And okay, maybe Minion is right. This is life; Megamind can assign worth to different pieces of his life and try to evaluate one against another all he wants but he'll never change anything. This is just how his life goes. And the place he's in now is beautiful, and—maybe he would be here anyway, or maybe he'd be somewhere else, or maybe he'd be dead, so does it matter? How he got here? As long as he's willing to fight to keep it, does it matter?

Probably not, he thinks, and feels a weight lift from his shoulders.

Minion finishes tightening the final screw. Then he says, "This suit's olfactory sensors are going ballistic, Sir. Is something burning?"

Megamind shakes his head. "It isn't a burning smell. I don't know what it is."

Minion nods at the kitchen, where Roxanne is perched on Wayne's shoulder like a parrot, her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees, staring down at the pot he's stirring on the stove. "You should go and find out, Sir. I'll clean up the tools and things, here."

Megamind smiles at him. "Thank you, Minion." He stands, then reaches out and tangles his fingers briefly in the fur of Minion's shoulder before turning toward the kitchen.

So, today has been…today has been a day. It's not even noon and Wayne wants to go back to sleep. That might be a good sign, though; it's what usually happens when he doesn't keep busy. Which means life is getting back to normal. Which is good.

Better than good, actually, because it's better than back to normal: Metro Man is going to have backup, real backup, from Megamind going forward. That's…holy crap, that's fricking amazing. Several different flavors of unbelievable. Metro Man has been going it alone for pretty much as long as he can remember. He was doing good, they said; it was his job to do good, his job to be friendly, his job to learn how not to be frightening and use his friendliness and his biology for the betterment of society as a whole. And Megamind was never good, they said; Megamind was always frightening, but—they were wrong about that, Metro Man is pretty sure. He's pretty sure they just never liked him. Humans are like that, a lot of the time: thoughtless, forgetting their preferences and biases aren't necessarily accurate reflections of value. Humans, and Metro Man. They have to step back, and take time, and think.

Megamind isn't like that, Metro Man thinks. Megamind couldn't be thoughtless if he tried. Thoughts are what he does. Thinking is kind of his thing.

"What smells amazing?" Megamind asks, materializing at Metro Man's elbow, and Wayne jumps. "What are you doing? What is that?" He folds both arms over Wayne's forearm and hooks his chin over to peer down at the pot.

"Cake smells amazing," Metro Man says. Off to one side, the oven beeps. "And it sounds like it's done. Can you take those out? Just put them on the racks I've got on the counter for now."

Megamind rolls his head sideways and blinks up at him quizzically, then sends a little grin at Roxanne on his shoulder before nodding and disentangling himself to go get the hot pads.

Roxanne watches him, her heart fluttering. He pulls the cake pans out of the oven, puts them on the racks Wayne indicated, then pauses, blinking at them with a strange expression on his face. Turns. Looks up at Wayne again with sparkling eyes.

"You made cake?"

Wayne shrugs. "Said I would, didn't I? One down, fifty-nine to go."

Roxanne taps twice on the top of his head and he angles his arm out away from his body for her to slide down and hop onto the floor. Megamind shakes his head at this, grinning, then extends his hand to Roxanne. Something in his stance catches her memory and she reaches across her body, wondering if—yes, his grin breaks into a smile and he pulls her in and spins her, draws her hand across his shoulder behind his head, pulls her into his side and slips his other arm around her waist.

(Honestly, the fact that he was worried she might not like him anymore is just completely preposterous.)

He says nothing, just sifts the hand that isn't on her hip into her hair, fluffing her bangs and then trying to smooth down the mussed-up cowlick in the back. He fails miserably at this—as he probably knew he would; he's seen what Roxanne's hair looks like in the mornings before she wets it down—and laughs in the back of his throat, then kisses Roxanne quickly on the cheek.

And then he whips around and skips two silent steps forward and ducks under Wayne's elbow so he can get a better look at the pot on the stove. Wayne rears back, startling the way he has for as long as Roxanne has known him: jerking his head and shoulders up and clenching his elbows to his sides, making himself as narrow as possible.

Megamind ignores this reaction. "Okay, what is this?" he asks. "This isn't cake."

"—Sugar water," Wayne says, slowly relaxing out of his painfully upright stance and stepping back.

Megamind nods. "Yes, and? Why?"

"It's going to be icing," Wayne tells him. Roxanne, leaning against the fridge to watch this interaction, has to bite her lips together to keep from laughing when Megamind wrinkles his nose and tips his head all the way back to frown up at Wayne's face.

"I don't see how," he complains at Wayne upside-down, the top of his head shoved into Wayne's sternum. "What kind of sugar? C6H12O6?"

"If that's table sugar, then yes."

"But that doesn't do anything fun when it's mixed with just water."

"Egg yolks too," Wayne says. "And vanilla and salt."

"Ah." Megamind tips his head back down again and nods, his expression clearing somewhat. Apparently eggs, vanilla, and salt do all kinds of fun things when added to sugar water. "And the thermometer?"

"To see when this hits two hundred forty degrees. The icing gets clumpy if you let it get hotter than that." Wayne pauses. "Roxie, you think you can handle that part?"

"What?" Megamind says, dismayed. "I can do the temperature thing."

Wayne shakes his head and hands the thermometer to Roxanne, who is still trying desperately not to laugh. "Nope, you're gonna learn how to release a cake from a cake pan."

"This, I have to see," Minion says dryly, clanking into the kitchen area. Megamind scowls at him.

"Aw, c'mon," Wayne says, turning to gust cool air over the cakes on their cooling racks. "I bet he can do it."

"You're on," Minion says, grinning at Megamind. "Ten dollars says he can't."

Megamind's mouth falls open in comically over-acted affront. "Ten—! Minion! How dare you bet against me!"

"With respect, Sir, I remember what happened the last time you tried to help with baking. That poor cookie sheet has never been the same."

"Hmph," Megamind says, his eyes twinkling. "Treachery. Wayne believes in me."

Minion folds his arms. "Wayne doesn't know any better."

"Wayne would like to get these cakes free," Wayne says. Behind him, Roxanne has lost the battle to hide her mirth, and is now laughing freely as she eyes the thermometer. It's almost at two-forty. "So, what you're going to do is, you're going to set the pan on the counter and then put the rack over top…yeah, like that. And…flip!"

"Flip!" Megamind echoes.

"And then just lift off."

There's a pause, and then Megamind's voice slowly says, "Mine appears to be stuck."

"Drum your fingers on the bottom," Roxanne suggests over her shoulder. "Maybe jiggle it a little."

"…This is hopeless. I am hopeless."

"You see?" says Minion.

"Oh, good grief," Wayne says. "Look, just give it one really good whack, right in the middle. Trust me."

There's a thump, and then a clatter, and then a pleased little cackling noise from Megamind. "Haha! It worked! See, Minion? I am not hopeless! I don't know why you said I was."

"Oh, yes, my mistake, Sir."

Roxanne turns. "We just hit two hundred and forty degrees; now what?"

"Perfect timing!" Wayne exclaims, turning back to the stove and picking up the pot. Roxanne switches off the burner. "Okay, so now—do not eat that, it's raw egg yolk!"

Megamind freezes, wide-eyed and guilty with yellow foam on the tip of a finger. Then he sticks his finger in his mouth and leaps away, laughing, when Wayne makes a grab for him.

"Oh for the love of—fine, you know what, get salmonella, I don't even care," Wayne sighs. "C'mere, you can pour this while I do the whisking."

Megamind grins and trots back over. "I can't get salmonella," he says, "and that's a dirty lie." He takes the pot, still grinning. "You totally do care about me."

Wayne scowls and makes a low sort of muttering noise in his chest, a deep whickering warning, and moves sideways to give Megamind room at the island. Roxanne blinks; she's pretty sure that was almost an open threat, but Megamind just heaves a huge, theatrical sigh, and rolls his eyes and flutes a warbling birdlike whistle right back up at him, totally unconcerned.

"Oh, stop; you know you do," he says, before Wayne can react to this obvious display of sass. "Don't play stupid with me, you won't win. But it's okay." He tips the pot to drizzle a thin stream of syrupy sugar water into the bowl as Wayne does his stand-mixer trick with the whisk. "I care about you, too, it turns out. So, it's okay."

Roxanne, who has come to stand next to Minion on the other side of the island and observe these proceedings, notes the gentle way Megamind is smiling down at the bowl, notes the way Wayne's expression sort of—twitches, then goes soft—and—

She pauses, thinking of Minion saying he bonds with people very quickly and thinking of Wayne saying take care of him, Roxie, and thinking—

—thinking, well, she's willing to share if Wayne is; if at some point Megamind decides he wants to bring him into their little family, that might not be so terrible. Might be nice, even. Wayne is a sweetheart but he is also as dumb as a box of rocks; yes he needs people worrying about him, good lord. The amount of time he spends working is not healthy.

But they'll build that bridge when they come to it. Megamind just got his brain back, just got his Minion back; Minion is uncertain in his body and unsteady on his feet; Roxanne places the unopened can of worms labeled "Wayne" quietly on a shelf in the back of her mind and resolves not to touch it until they're all feeling more secure and safe and settled with each other.

For now, it's a beautiful summer morning and Roxanne is leaning sideways against Minion's furry arm and watching her best friend and the love of her life squabble good-naturedly about French buttercream icing in her kitchen. Minion is alive and home and snickering at both of them and Megamind is smiling, with Roxanne's ring on his finger.

She has no idea what will come tomorrow, what further changes are just beyond her horizon—her comfortable-if-boring routine of the last several years is now well and truly disrupted—but today is beautiful and Roxanne isn't worried. She knows where she is and she knows where her friends are. And at some point today, there will be cake.

Today, life is good.

Fin.

Chapter Text

Soundtrack Link (YouTube)

A few weeks later, Megamind climbs up to the roof of the Lair at sunset. It rained earlier in the day, rained hard, and the roof of the Lair smells of lovely warm earth instead of asphalt and tar.

Minion is already up here, humming to himself, getting damp soil in the fur of his arms and caked between the joints of his hands. He's planting in his garden, something Megamind knows he's wanted to do for some time now but never really had enough hope for until recently.

He truly is doing an excellent job of it. Personally, Megamind has always thought of gardens as just collections of plants, but Minion, it seems, has been thinking of them as more than that—as arrangements of stones and little statues and pots of annuals among the rooted plants, mosses in the shady places and tall flowering grasses in the sunny ones. He really is much better than Megamind at this whole decorating thing.

Also, he's weirdly insistent on lilacs. Megamind had needed to come up with a solution for those; their roots aren't terribly shallow and some of the roof had to be modified so they would have room to grow. But that's okay, Megamind didn't mind helping. It was nice, actually, to follow Minion's directions and specifications, for a change.

And the lilacs' leaves are a pleasing enough color, and Minion claims they'll smell wonderful when they establish themselves and start flowering next spring. Megamind likes to tease him about this because Minion can't actually smell anything, but really he's touched that Minion considers scent a factor, and Minion knows it.

Roxanne is up on the roof already, too, looking out over the lake at the sunset-fire lighting up the water and the dissipating thunderheads. She's leaning on her elbows on the low railing Megamind installed around the patio at the end of Minion's flagstone path, just at the edge of the roof. Megamind smiles briefly over at her back, at the way she looks silhouetted gazing away at the sun, and then he picks his way carefully over the dirt to where his oldest and dearest friend is crouching over one of the flowerbeds.

He announces his presence by fluffing the fur of Minion's shoulder with his fingers, and Minion turns in his dome and grins up at him from under the brim of his floppy straw hat. "You finished it?" he asks eagerly. "Can I see?"

Blushing furiously, Megamind shows him the result of his latest project. Minion nods his approval, beaming.

"It's beautiful, Sir. Do you have any idea what you're going to say?"

Megamind grimaces, laughs a little. "Minion, my main man," he groans, "I have entirely too many ideas."

Minion sends him a smile and bumps him with his elbow instead of patting him on the back with a muddy hand, then turns back to his work. "You'll do fine, Sir."

Megamind nods and takes a deep breath, then turns to go watch the sunset with Roxanne.

The past month has been…

Weird.

Megamind still isn't completely sure how his brain is supposed to work, these days. He can think more or less the way he's used to, can speak without stumbling again—well, mostly; he occasionally tries to say three things at once and ends up spitting out gibberish—can see what needs to be done again. But he has more trouble than he used to in other ways. Like, for example: he gets hungry, now. It's incredibly distracting. He's not a fan. And he loses himself in projects much more quickly than he remembers doing before. Before, Minion could almost always tempt him away from his frustration on one project by redirecting him to something else, but now that doesn't seem to be working as well. They'll have to figure something else out, there.

Minion is more serious than he used to be, and less patient. This is not quite as much of a problem as it might be because Megamind couldn't take him for granted anymore if he tried, and is much less inclined to dig in his heels when Minion gets a certain look in his eye, but still, it can be jarring. For both of them, really.

(They aren't entirely sure how many of their changes are due to the link versus the effects of post-traumatic stress, but either way, it's an adjustment.)

Minion had some trouble, at first, with spending much time in Main Storage. The high ceiling and lighting were unsettling, he said. That was all he said about it, but Roxanne coordinated with the brainbots to replace the Lair's blue-green LED spotlights with sunlight bulbs, anyway, which seems to have helped.

Roxanne finally admitted to Megamind a few days ago that yes, the link is definitely affecting her as well, even if she can't consciously pick up on it the way he and Minion can. She's developing an actual rapport with the brainbots, she says, enough that she'd like to work with Megamind about looking into some kind of neural interface for her (he is wildly excited about this idea). And her job doesn't seem quite as interesting as it used to—she still loves it, but the downtime is becoming excruciating.

And she came home from work one day last week in a kind of daze, and when Megamind asked what was wrong, she said, "I think I solved a corporate embezzlement mystery today? I'm still not sure how, I just…everything lined up and it all just made sense, and…next thing I know, I'm giving a statement to the chief of police?" After the shock wore off, she and Minion both found the whole thing riotously funny; Megamind still isn't entirely sure why.

But relationship-wise, the past few weeks have passed smoothly enough to border on absurd, considering how worried he was to begin with. The ring Roxanne gave him helped a lot. The lawyer Wayne recommended is still reviewing case law, trying to figure out what documentation Megamind is going to need to bring with him to apply for a marriage license, so they haven't actually been able to tie the knot yet. But being able to look down and see Roxanne's love on his hand, being able to feel her love physically even when he's wearing his gloves—that helps a lot when Megamind starts feeling like everything is impossible and closing in around him. Which happens more frequently than he would like, but less frequently than he thought it would. And he does think it will happen with decreasing frequency as time moves forward. He's making progress; he's sure he is.

(For example: sometimes he has positive interactions with other citizens of Metro City and doesn't panic immediately afterward! This! This is progress! The first time he panicked he wasn't expecting it, wasn't prepared at all, and Wayne found him in a ball behind a dumpster in an alley with his massive head between his knees. Megamind snapped and snarled at him, threatened him with all sorts of terrible fates and injuries, but Wayne stayed anyway and sang exceptionally terrible improvisations about people passing on the street ("oh, uh…there's a lady with a poodle with a bad hair-cut / oh she just stepped in a puddle 'cause the puddle's in a rut / wow that's a really deep puddle, oh no / um, and now the poodle's wet and so are her shoes and she's—uhhh—yelling—") and, when that didn't work, sat down in the alley-mud next to the dumpster and talked Mandelbrot coordinates in base eight until Megamind could pull enough air to explain. And it was—god, it was stupid, really—it's just, looking and being looked at, speaking and being spoken to by strangers—doesn't—Megamind isn't used to that ending well for him.)

(And then Wayne got sort of quiet, but all he said was, "Tell you what, little buddy, let's go make cake, I bet maybe you'll be better at cupcakes, maybe cupcakes are a better starting place for you," and that was what they did for the remainder of the afternoon.)

(Which. Megamind is. Going to need to talk to Roxanne about…some things, there.)

(Wayne was right about the cupcakes, though! Megamind only burned a little over two thirds of them! And his icing came out semi-edible, if somewhat runny! More progress!)

He makes his way down the flagstone path to their patio. Roxanne is still gazing out over the lake, but she turns and smiles back at him with the sun behind her and the wind in her hair when she hears his footsteps approaching. That's another new thing: in spite of his misgivings, Megamind is learning to make a little more noise as he walks. Is learning it's not such a terrible thing to be noticed, to be seen.

Slowly, he comes to stand beside her. Even more slowly, takes her hand, and allows his shoulders to relax and drop as he straightens his spine. Roxanne is slightly taller than he is—or she would be, if his head was smaller—but he doesn't mind. It's nice, really, to slip his hand in behind hers and hold on that way.

Roxanne glances over at him again, still smiling as she squeezes his hand and leans gently against his arm. "It's a really pretty sunset," she remarks. "I'm glad the storm cleared up, those clouds are amazing. Were you able to reduce the turn radius on the hoverbike?"

He actually finished that project a couple days ago, but he doesn't tell her this yet. He just nods, and she hums, pleased. Then she pulls away for a moment so she can look him up and down. "You look nice," she tells him, sounding almost surprised. "I like that shirt on you. You look pretty good in white."

"Thank you," he replies, barely able to hear his own voice over his pounding heart.

For a while, they watch the thunderheads change colors as the sun dips low over the water, Megamind grappling with himself in silence as he tries to figure out what to say. This is ridiculous. He feels nearly as dizzy and cut-tongue as he did when Minion was lost. His thoughts are spinning out and turning over and discarding possibilities as quickly as he can think of them.

Well…maybe he doesn't need to do this right now. Maybe he can wait. There will be other sunsets.

He relaxes a little.

"I still don't understand," he says, after the shadows have lengthened somewhat and the light is fully gold around them, "how you could just…take me in like you did. Find me on the street and carry me home and bring me into your life. Despite all our exceptionally one-sided history. I don't understand."

Roxanne leans into him again and squeezes his hand, but doesn't reply just yet. She's not terribly surprised to hear him bring this up; she's learning this is just his knee-jerk response to happiness. To question its origin. It probably will be for a while.

"You completely upended your life for me," he says. "You couldn't have had much time to stop and think about sending me somewhere else." She can hear the frown in his voice. "I know I…I can't have been unconscious for very long in your apartment, but you already had my bed made when I woke up. And you never complained. Not once."

"Sweetheart," she says, "I really can't express how much you were not a burden. The only thing I did differently was make more food."

"But," he says, but she isn't finished.

"You didn't upend my life. Yes, it was a change, but…coming home to you instead of just coming home was the second-easiest thing I've ever done, I promise." She lets go of his hand in favor of slipping her arm around his narrow waist.

"Second-easiest," says Megamind, startled but putting his arm around her as well, resting his hand on the smooth curve of her hip. "Second-easiest? What's the easiest thing?"

"Loving you," she says simply, and he makes a sort of low, broken-off sound. She knows without looking that he's wearing his shocked-heartsick face. "You're an easy man to love, Megamind. I don't even know when it started. But letting you stay was just…I don't know." She's quiet for a while, holding him against her side and thinking, until finally she settles on, "It felt like the natural response to whatever led me to find you in that alley. There you were, and there I was, and," she shrugs, "I had a choice to make. I don't think I could possibly have chosen otherwise."

Megamind steps behind her so he can wrap both arms around her like he'll never let her go. He presses his lips to the back of her shoulder, his nose in the curve of her neck. She feels his chest shudder a little, feels his throat move, and she raises a hand to brush her knuckles softly back and forth over the side of his head.

The light slowly fades out of the sky above them and concentrates in the clouds along the western horizon. It really is a lovely evening. And this high up, on the roof of the old power plant, there's a good breeze and not many biting evening insects.

After a while, Roxanne stirs. "Do you want to know the hardest thing about bringing you into my life?" she asks, and she feels him give a hesitant nod.

She grins. "Carrying you up the stairs." Megamind bursts into startled laughter against her back. "Seriously!" she exclaims. "You weigh, like, a thousand pounds! And people were waiting for the elevator on the first few floors; I had to drag you up three flights of stairs before I had a clear shot!" She rolls her eyes. "You were worth it, of course, but good lord."

"What would you have done if someone on an upper floor wanted to get on?"

She snorts, lifts a hand and waves a vague gesture out at the lake. "This isn't the lift you're looking for," she says, deadpan, and Megamind laughs even harder. "Move along."

"Yes," he chokes, "but I am the nerd, here, obviously."

"I never said I wasn't one," Roxanne tells him, grinning. "Just that you're the biggest one I've ever met."

"I love you," Megamind says fervently, still laughing, "Roxanne, I love you so much." He steps back so she can turn around, and then he finally leans in and kisses her, still chuckling in his throat.

He hums as he breaks the kiss, then sweeps her bangs towards her ear and cups the side of her neck, his thumb brushing her jaw. "I wonder what would have happened if you walked away," he murmurs, eyes sparkling in the light of the sunset.

"I don't know," Roxanne replies, troubled at the idea. "I don't think a universe exists where that happens."

"There has to be at least one," he points out, cocking an eyebrow. "In an infinity of universes, an infinity of variables…"

"Not necessarily." She turns her head to press a kiss into his cool palm. "You never used the reset button."

Megamind blinks a few times, then twitches a frown, cocks his head at her. Which means it's Roxanne's turn to be surprised, because—has he really never thought of this? "You said using it would collapse every universe created since and destroy everything in them. Right?"

Slowly, he nods.

"But we're still here," she says. "Which means, in an infinity of universes spinning off an infinity of variables, there is no universe in which you built and used the reset button. None. Not one." She smiles, puts a hand on his cheek to tip his face to a better angle for a kiss as his eyes go wide. "And I think," she murmurs, "that says one heck of a lot about you, Megamind. About who you are. And how absolutely good you are.

"So," she finishes, as he stares at her, "like I said: I hope there aren't any where I walked away from you without trying to help."

Megamind scrunches his chin, his eyebrows pulling together. "You always say the most beautiful things to me," he says, his tone almost mournful. "I don't know how I got so lucky, Roxanne, I—you—"

(It sounded like poetry, Roxanne said, weeks ago, explaining her truth in terms Megamind not only understood but had explained to her, himself, once. It sounded like poetry, of course I remembered. I wrote it down.)

This sunset, then. No more waiting. Suddenly dizzy, Megamind steps around Roxanne, turns sideways to lean his hip against the railing because otherwise he is going to fall over.

Roxanne cocks her head at him, looking curious. "You're wearing your Ideas Face," she observes. "What did you think of, just then?"

"Just—wait, just wait," he tells her, struggling to gather himself enough to speak without stammering, "wait a moment—"

He closes his eyes. Breathes deeply. Swallows hard.

Lifts his head and opens his eyes into the sideways glare of the sun and looks at Roxanne, who is haloed sideways by the same solar flare.

"I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, topaz," he tells her, because it sounded like poetry, of course I remembered, and because he means every word of this, "or carnation-arrows seeding fire." He forces himself to speak slowly, to breathe, be deliberate. "I love you as certain dark things are loved—secretly, between shadow and soul."

"What," Roxanne begins, startled, but Megamind continues to speak in his low, humming voice, with the damp after-rain smell of the rooftop garden rising around them and the sun striking his eyes at an angle that turns his irises into wheels of green fire,

"I love you as the plant that does not flower, but carries within itself, hidden, the light of flowers—and, thanks to your love, the dense scent that rises from the earth dwells darkly in my body.

"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where," he steadies his voice with an effort and takes her hand, threads his fingers with hers, "I love you personally, without problems or pride; I love you this way because—because, I don't know any other way to love,

"except in this way, in which I am not, nor are you; so closely that your hand on my chest is my hand—so closely that your eyes close with my dreaming."

He stops speaking, then, and steps close to her, and bends his great head on his long neck and drops a kiss onto her shoulder. And silently prays for his knees not to give out.

"Oh," Roxanne says, after a moment, her voice thick. "Oh, I—I like that." She swallows. "That was…?"

He smiles. "Neruda," he tells her, stepping back to look at her again. "Soneto diecisiete, cien sonetos de amor." He clears his throat. "Roxanne, I finished my work on the hoverbike two days ago. I've been working on…something else." He takes a small bag made of the same shimmering black material as his capes out of his pocket and hands it to her, color rising across his cheekbones and crawling up his ears. "For you," he says. "I hope it's acceptable."

The ring is in his colors, blue and black, as she had requested. The three blue stones are tension set against curves of black metal that curl between and around them like waves.

"Acceptable?" she says. "Megamind, this is beautiful. It's perfect, I love it. I love you."

"I love you," he tells her. "Does it fit?"

She swallows. "Let's find out," she says, offering him the ring and her left hand.

Of course it fits; Megamind is nothing if not thorough. His blush intensifies as he lifts her knuckles to his lips, and then he ducks his head forward and nuzzles against her. Smiles at her with his heart in his eyes when she pushes back against him and puts her arms around his shoulders.

He clears his throat. "The, um. The stones are sapphires. The band itself is titanium."

"Huh," she says, surprised. "Why titanium?"

"It—well, for this kind of setting, titanium is best. But. It was. Going to be titanium, anyway. In, in this case it…isn't really jeweler quality," he says, almost apologetically. Roxanne holds her left hand up behind him; the ring looks fine to her. "I thought, at first, maybe—cobalt, or, or platinum, but…well. You gave me your grandmother's ring." He swallows, stumbling over his words as he so rarely does anymore. "So I…wanted to…it was. An engine component. Originally."

Roxanne blinks at him. The way he's stammering, she's sure this is significant, but she must be missing something.

"From my spacepod," he says, and time, for Roxanne, stops.

There wasn't a lot of room for trinkets in the little cobbled-together pod his parents hurled into the sky. There wasn't much time to gather things together. Other than the de-gun's B.I.N.K.Y., a few pages of writing Megamind was only sort of shown how to read, and Minion, the pod itself is really the only thing he has left of the world and people who bore him.

"Because I wanted to give you something of my history, too," Megamind says, kicking time back into motion, "and this is all I have."

Roxanne inhales and drags him in against her, clutches him to her like she can somehow press their hearts together if she gets close enough. Because, good lord. Megamind. Megamind with his I love you secretly between shadow and soul, with his this is all I have, with his snowflake kisses, with his gentle hands. Megamind, turning his life in an entirely new direction because his childhood bully said I know you can do this and I need you; Megamind, who still can't really believe in himself, holding firm in his resolve to try something he thinks is impossible because a couple of other people seem to believe in him; Megamind, melting down an engine component from the ship that carried him away from a black hole to make a ring for her and saying it isn't jeweler quality like that's somehow a downside.

She disentangles herself and kisses him as hard as she can, with one hand on the back of his head and her other arm wrapped around his shoulders, because her only other option right now is to burst into tears.

Honestly, she still hasn't ruled that out. Megamind is smiling even when he opens his mouth under hers and locks his strong arms around her, but it's all Roxanne can do not to start crying into him right then and there. He's standing here, in her arms, kissing her under this alien sky on an alien world, and he and Minion so very nearly lost each other—after losing so much already, their planet and their star and their families and their whole culture—and Roxanne is so fucking relieved they were able to come home to each other in the end. And so glad to be bound to both of them in this strange new life they're building for and with each other.

"Roxanne," Megamind says, breaking the kiss and blinking at her in what looks like a combination of amusement and alarm, "please stop crying? I don't want you to cry."

"Tough," she chokes out, laughing through her tears as he scowls at her and wipes her cheeks with his thumbs, "tough cookies, Megamind, you're too fantastic for me to not cry over, with—with your I don't know any other way to love—holy shit, I love you so much," she drags her fingers in the back of his shirt. "Hold me?"

"Yes, of course, always," he says, wrapping his arms around her again and pulling her in. It really is ridiculous how strong he is for his size. It really is ridiculous how insanely good he is at hugging despite his relative lack of experience.

Pleased, Roxanne drapes her arms around his neck and leans into him, tucking her head down against her shoulder with her face turned toward his neck. He's not wearing his platforms, just regular shoes; she doesn't even have to stand on her toes; he really is just the perfect size for her. Megamind hums at her, pleased at the cuddles, and tips his head sideways on top of hers.

For a while, they stand like that—holding each other in the fading light, in the clear air.

Eventually, Roxanne stirs. "Really do love you," she sighs, and Megamind hums again.

Then Roxanne moves her head, tips back and opens her mouth to press her teeth into the skin of his throat in a gentle bite. Megamind jumps, then shivers.

"Oh," he says, dropping his voice into its old growl, "my dear Miss Ritchi, what exactly do you think you're doing?"

"Oh I think you know exactly what I'm doing," she murmurs back, straightening up and leaning in for another kiss. This one has significantly more tongue than she's used yet this evening, and also involves her trailing her fingernails very lightly up and down the back of Megamind's neck, until he's shuddering and gasping under her mouth and hands.

That's where they pause, because, "Either cool your jets or take it inside, you two," Minion calls over his shoulder, not turning around.

Megamind bites his lip around a breathless laugh as Roxanne calls back, "Sorry, Minion! Aaagh," she adds, dropping her voice, "I completely forgot he was over there."

Megamind steps back and stretches. "I didn't," he admits, "but I was trying to be quiet, I didn't think he could hear us."

"You were very quiet, Sir," Minion calls back. "I couldn't hear a thing, but you're both completely predictable."

Megamind rolls his eyes and blows a raspberry at him, laughing, then glances out over the lake. The sun is below the horizon, now.

"The sunset's mostly over, anyway," Roxanne says, echoing his thoughts, reaching to take his hand almost before he's finished stretching. "Shall we bring this inside, then?"

"I like that plan." Megamind curls a little smile at her, his eyes half-lidded, but—then he glances down at their joined hands. His leather gloves, her bare skin.

His smile turns shy as his gaze flicks back up to her. "You really want to marry me?"

"I really do."

Megamind nods, takes a deep breath, gazes around at the patio, Minion's garden, the city rising behind it. "And you—you really do think I can do—this?"

She turns to face him and takes his chin in her free hand, her left hand, the one wearing his ring, and tips his face down so she can press her lips to his forehead.

"I really do," she repeats softly, stroking the soft line of his goatee with her thumb. "I know you can.

"But if you can't," she adds, before he can ask, "or if you decide it's too much, or you don't want it—I love you. No matter what you do or don't do. Or can't do, or won't do. I love you," she smiles, lifting his hand and turning it to place his palm flat against her chest and press it there, "so closely that your hand on my heart is my hand," she leans close and moves his face so she can brush her lips over his fluttering eyelashes, "so closely that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

"And I want you to be happy. And yes, Megamind, I also want to marry you."

Megamind goes quiet, just gazing at her with his heart in his mouth and his eyes glittering in the dusklight.

"There you go again," he complains thickly, after a moment, "with the—saying of the nice things to me."

Roxanne grins and releases him, dropping their hands and threading her fingers between his. Megamind swallows and opens his mouth—

—and then he tweaks an eyebrow at her and his expression goes mischievous and his hand goes tight. He ducks forward and spins down, slides his free arm behind her knee, pulls up—

—rises with Roxanne draped around his shoulders in a fireman's carry. "Clearly the only thing to do is kidnap you," he declares, and she bursts into peals of startled laughter, "and bring you home and keep you there with me forever so you can continue saying nice things to me."

He marches back along the path. "Yes," Roxanne agrees when she can breathe, "yes, clearly, that is the thing to do. But you've forgotten to secure both my hands, Megamind!" and she pinches him all up and down his side so he yelps and chirps and flails around until he manages to catch her by the wrist.

"That's not nice," Megamind protests, panting, holding her hand well away from his body.

Roxanne wriggles a little, pleased with herself. "Have to keep you on your toes somehow."

He scoffs in the back of his throat, but she can hear him smiling. And she's struck, suddenly, by how very different he is from the man she brought home with her in May—the same man, certainly, but able to be himself now in a way he wasn't, before. She loves him regardless, but it is so lovely to be able to snark with him like this. Nice to be caught by surprise and swept off her feet.

"Minion, I have kidnapped Miss Ritchi," Megamind announces as they approach. "Would you be so kind as to get the door? She is insisting on being difficult."

"What else is new, Sir," Minion sighs, but he's already waiting by the door and he's grinning as he holds it open for them. He winks at Roxanne as she goes past. "Have fun, Miss Ritchi."

"Thanks, Minion, I will," she says cheerfully, wiggling her fingers at him from where Megamind is still gripping her wrist. "Good night!"

Iza Ngomso (Come Tomorrow), adapted from 'Keramos', by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Xhosa translation by Kanyi Maqubela and Vuyelwa Maqubela

Imvula izawubuya ezulwini / Umphungu uphinde ube imvula namafu / Ndizawuqabela / Apho amatapha nentsimi eluhlaza / Izikhephe ezizotyiweyo zibhabha emoyeni / Njengentaka ndiyabhabha, / Ndibamba umoya / Njengentaka ndiyabhabha, / Ndibambelele ngamaphiko / Iza ngomso / Kuzawubalela / Makube ngomso / Iyeza imini / Ndibhabha, ndidada—

The rain will return to the cloud / The clouds bring down the rain / I will climb / Where over fields and pastures green / The painted ships float high in the air / Like a bird I fly / I'm holding on to the wind / Like a bird I fly / I'm holding on by my wings / Come tomorrow / The rain will clear / May it be tomorrow / The day is coming / I fly, I swim all over the lands / I'm holding on to the wind / Over desert sands, over gulf and bay / Like a bird I fly / Like a bird I sing—