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Chapter Text

Megamind waits, safely ensconced in Roxanne's coat closet, ready to hit her with the spray as soon as she comes home and opens the door to put her jacket away.

It's such a simple little kidnapping, much simpler than the last one (which involved balloons and a live garter snake, because Minion said it would never work and Megamind doesn't know how to take that except as a challenge), and Megamind is feeling mildly pleased with himself about it. She'll never expect this, not after last time.

Of course, the downside is that this kidnapping requires Roxanne to stick to her routine. This turns out to be a problem.

She's on the phone when she gets home, chatting excitedly to someone or other—a friend, no doubt, or a family member, ugh—Megamind can't make out all the words, but he recognizes the tone of voice. Shit. He shrinks back into the jackets and scarves, mouth already twisting in a reproachful sneer. Frankly he already wasn't entirely feeling it today, and the last thing he needs is for some concerned relative to call Metro Man on Roxanne's behalf before Megamind is ready for it. Because of course she'll open the closet door and of course then she'll scream (finally finally finally! but does it have to be today? right now?), and then he'll hit her with the spray, and whoever she's talking to will know what's going on. Of course, they'll know. And of course, then they'll call Metro Man, and everything will be ruined forever.

He grits his teeth. How? How does he pull off balloons and snakes with glowing success, but fail at a basic jump scare? Why is this his life?

But Roxanne doesn't open the closet door. Her voice goes right past him, into her living room. After a moment, he nudges the closet door open just a crack and peeks out, sees her holding her Samsung to her ear as she shrugs off her purse and then her coat, both of which get tossed on the sofa.

Aha. So, no jump scare, today; this will require stealth, instead. And possibly waiting.

Possibly a lot of waiting. Roxanne has crossed to stand in front of her huge windows and she's gesturing wildly with one hand as she exclaims something into the phone, and her back is to him but she doesn't sound like she'll be ending the conversation any time soon.

Megamind puffs a sigh and stretches as best he can in the cramped space, and amuses himself for a few minutes by buttoning all her coats and jackets together. His hip is bothering him again in this position, but oh, well. He'll be fine as soon as he gets moving again.

Until—okay, that was definitely her wrapping-up-now cadence. There are a lot of "uh-huh"s and "okay"s and "well—"s, all delivered in a certain tone, and these all mean it's time to stop talking, soon.

He peeks out again. She's still standing by the windows. Okay, now, quietly…quietly…

Crap! He shrinks back into the closet; she hung up before he could get the jump on her. She turns around after ending the call, and she's still grinning, and—okay, now what is she doing? Pacing around in front of the windows and twirling her phone between her fingers, what is that? What does that mean?

No, no, it doesn't matter what it means. And—and he doesn't care! Of course he doesn't care! All it means is that he has a very narrow window of opportunity, so go, Megamind, go now while her back is turned, go go go—

She cuts herself short on a turn and Megamind scrambles back with a chirp like a canary that's about to be stepped on. Roxanne yips in surprise as she pulls up short to keep from crashing into him (it's not a scream, it doesn't count).

Then she stares at him, still sort of smiling, frozen in shock. Megamind stares back, equally startled. And then, before he can bring the spray back up into position, Roxanne's full smile explodes back across her face and she cries, "I'm going to be an aunt!"

Megamind remains frozen. She—

Roxanne is smiling so hard he can see her molars. She's smiling and her eyes are lit up and dancing with excitement or joy, and Megamind blinks and does his best to process, but he mostly fails. Not due to a lack of processing power; it's just—she—nobody looks at him like that. That is nobody's face upon seeing him, ever, and especially not Roxanne. She's outright beaming at him, smiling like sunlight and laughter, and—and he can start breathing again anytime now—she's very excited, probably hasn't realized what's going—

"Megamind," she says, and so much for the fleetingly improbable possibility that she simply didn't recognize him, somehow, but she's still wearing that excited, dazzlingly-bright, genuine smile. "I'm—I'm going to be an aunt. My sister and her husband are having a baby."

He blinks again and forces himself to say something, anything, and what comes out is a desperately cheerful, too-fast, "Ohwow!ababy!that'sfantastic!"

"I know!" Her smile looks like it's about to leap off her face as she sinks her teeth into her lower lip and twirls around once, spinning on both heels the same way he does. "I'm just—I'm so happy for them, they've been trying for ages and they were starting to think, maybe the hormones weren't—but they're already twelve weeks along!"

Megamind jerks his face into an answering smile and finally manages to recover most of his wits. Any minute now, she's going to fully realize who she's talking to, but…but that is wonderful. Really, it is. He doesn't have to try too hard to sound sincere when he says, "Well, that's…good! Um. Congratulations? Did…did they just find out? Or…?"

Roxanne laughs. "Oh, no, they've known for a while but they didn't want to say, in case…well, just in case. But I'm—I'm actually the first person they've told. I'm so honored! And…" Suddenly she snorts. "Oh jeez, the grandparents don't even know yet. You got the good news first."

Yikes. He grimaces. "Sorry," he says, but she shakes her head. She's still smiling. At him. Like she means it.

"Don't be! Probably a good thing, your reaction was loads better than Salim's dad's is going to be."

Megamind shakes his head, now feeling absolutely bewildered. "Wh…his father won't be happy about this?" Now, there's something he can't get his head around. Maybe if this wasn't good news, but Roxanne said, they've been trying for ages, so this is obviously very much good news. "I…why on earth…?"

She's grinning at him now, but it's rueful, less excited. "He'll be happy he's getting a grandchild, probably. But Salim's family is…traditional? A lot more accepting than some, but they are traditional, and Rose and Salim—um. Aren't. In a few ways." Megamind cocks his head, and Roxanne says, "Um—oh, they aren't actually technically married, for example."

Megamind frowns. "Do they want to be actually-technically-married?" he says, and Roxanne's smile relaxes again.

"See, you ask the important questions," she tells him. And then, while he's still reeling from the warm approval in that statement, she gives another breathless laugh and adds, "I'm so glad you're here!" and she reaches out and actually touches his arm. Megamind goes cold and warm and pink all over. "I was going to go totally nuts if I couldn't share with somebody. You could not have had better timing." She cocks her head. "Wait, were…were you here the whole time? I didn't hear the door open."

"I was hiding in your coat closet," he admits, and Roxanne blinks at him and then bursts into a fit of giggles.

"But I didn't hang up my coat today!" She throws her hands in the air, chokes out, "C-curses! Foiled again!"

"Yes, yes, laugh it up, figures this would go wrong," he mutters, but he can't help the smile that tugs its way onto his face. Roxanne's good spirits are contagious, and…okay, this is rather nice, talking to her without getting yelled at; he really is enjoying this more than he should be.

"I know! The thing with the snake, you pulled off, but hiding in my closet…man, that was just too complicated, huh?" She shakes her head, takes a deep breath, lets it out, lets her laughter fade. She's still smiling, though. "So, I guess we should—"

Her phone jingles and cuts her off; they both jump. Roxanne looks down at it reflexively, says, "Oh—sorry, it's her again, can you…?" She looks back up at Megamind with a hopeful kind of grimace. "Just for a sec…?"

He nods frantically, babbling, "Yes, of course, go ahead," instead of what he should be doing, which is focusing on the kidnapping, Megamind, what are you doing? Incompetent buffoonery, that's what he's doing. But it's worth it for the grateful look she sends him as she answers.

"Hey! What? …Oh, no, yeah. No, absolutely, I won't say anything to the family until you give the go-ahead. I did already tell a friend, though." She sounds apologetic. "It's okay, he's cool, he can keep a secret. You can, right?" She glances back at Megamind, who nods again, stunned (a friend? a friend! she just said he was a friend, this is the best day in the history of good days: the best news he's ever heard, hands-down, bar none, including "atmospheric molecular oxygen: twenty-one percent"). "Yeah—yeah, I know, thirty seconds has to be some kind of record, but I was just…I hung up and then he was there when I turned around and it just, pop! came right out." She listens for a moment, laughs again. "Yes, of course I trust him, I wouldn't have said he was cool if I…no, it's not…"

Suddenly she looks very shifty indeed. "Rose, don't be ridiculous." Peals of laughter on the other end, an exclamation, a question. Roxanne colors. "Rosemary Ritchi, I will not…no! What? Oh…oh my god okay fine, I'll ask him." She turns to Megamind, blushing furiously and looking severely put-upon. "She wants to know if you'll send her a brainbot for a pet."

He…

What? What?

"I," he manages. (He's already thinking about it. He'll need to write something compatible with small children. The Gilgamesh run is already the least inclined to bite; a smoother chassis wouldn't go amiss, he can do that, build off an existing operating system and design a custom chassis, yes, that's not even hard. A spheroid, maybe, no sharp edges; propulsion and flight taken care of by electric ionization against Earth's magnetic field rather than the usual plasmoctane thrusters.) "I suppose I…I could, but…"

"He'll think about it," Roxanne tells her sister, who cheers, Megamind can hear her cheering, and what is going on? What's going on? What is this? "Okay, Rose, I gotta go now, we're wasting daylight. Sure. Will do, don't I always? Love you too, bye!"

She hangs up and looks at Megamind, who says the first thing that pops into his head. "I am not sending one of my AIs somewhere it might be mistreated," he warns. "They're like dogs, they need stimulation. You can't just turn them off when you don't want to deal with them."

She smiles, startled. It's not surprising he would be concerned about that—she knows he cares about the brainbots, has seen him treat them like living creatures for years—but she had figured he would laugh in her face or roll his eyes at the very idea. "That won't be a problem," she assures him. "We always had dogs growing up, so did Salim's family. And Rose loves your bots, she always loves hearing about them."

"Hm," he says. "Well. We'll see."

"I really wasn't expecting you to even consider it," she tells him.

"I—really wasn't expecting to hear you say you trust me," he replies, fluttering a smile at her that's—it's shy, almost kind. "I suppose we're both surprised."

He sprays her, then, while she's still surprised, but Minion is ecstatic when he hears the news, and Megamind tells her congratulations again on the new addition to her family before he starts the cameras rolling, and the whole scheme is honestly over pretty quickly. Megamind seems almost distracted, and he's still sort of blinking to himself when Metro Man hauls him off to jail.

Chapter Text

"So, is Salim going to propose?" says one of her cousins, and it's the third time Roxanne has heard that in as many days since the news went out to the world at large.

Megamind's reaction was honestly the best, and Minion's—they both seemed so genuinely happy on her behalf, and excited for Rose and Salim, and they hadn't made any disparaging comments or expressed any doubts and they were totally nonjudgmental about the whole thing.

Roxanne has never expected to have to bite her tongue to keep from asking, why can't you be more like Megamind? at all, let alone so frequently.

"My dear Miss Ritchi," Megamind purrs, and yanks the bag off her head, "we—"

"It's a girl!" she says, as soon as she's free. "It's a girl, they found out two days ago!"

"A girl!" he cries, "Ha!" and punches the air with both fists, which triggers the emergency release on his shoulder array—cape, mantle, and collar all go flying backwards with a pop. Megamind doesn't even appear to notice; he's beaming all over his face. "Ha ha! You see? I was right! Never bet against a pizzykick!"

"It's psychic, and you aren't one," Roxanne tells him, but she's laughing, and he doesn't seem to mind being corrected. He just scoffs and waves a hand at her as he backs up a couple steps to retrieve his array from the floor. "But yes, you were right."

"And…they can be sure about this?" Minion asks, somewhat cautiously. It's an odd contrast to his friend's wild enthusiasm. "What happens if—oh, I don't know how humans—if the child realizes otherwise?"

Roxanne shrugs. "Sometimes that does happen," she agrees. "And no, they can't be sure. But if anyone is preparing for that possibility, it's Rose and Salim. Rose already mentioned they were looking for something more or less gender-neutral in terms of naming, and they aren't doing any of that gender-reveal party stuff." She grins. "I just get to know because I'm the auntie."

"What names are they discussing?" Minion asks. It's a shame Roxanne has to disappoint him.

"They won't tell me," she says. "They won't tell anyone; they don't want criticisms on the potentials."

Minion tilts sideways in his dome. "Is it…customary to comment on someone else's preference of names?"

Roxanne snorts. "I don't know about customary," she says, thinking it might as well be, based on discussions she's overheard around the water cooler at work, "but it sure happens a lot."

Megamind pauses in his tightening of his mantle's spikes to consider this for a moment. Minion frowns, and then Megamind wrinkles his nose. "That seems rude."

"Thank you!" Roxanne exclaims. "I was starting to think it was just me!"

"It might still be just you," he says, tugging the array back into place over his shoulders and dusting off his cape. "I am a social misfit, you remember. I don't count."

"You're a genius and a supervillain," she returns. "I think you can be depended upon to know what's rude and what isn't."

"Perhaps," he says, but he sounds doubtful.

"You count," Roxanne says flatly. "Also, your collar is crooked. No, the other way."

Megamind grumbles something under his breath and thumbs the clasp, then reaches back and removes the whole high collar from the back of his mantle. Roxanne blinks. She hadn't realized he could do that.

"This thing, I tell you," he mutters, tugging at it. "No end of trouble. Doesn't help that Muscles thinks he can carry me by it—keeps bending it all out of shape, but do I complain?"

"Ceaselessly, Sir," Minion says over his shoulder as he turns away to attend to something that just started beeping.

"Why do you wear it?" Roxanne asks, curious. "If it's such a pain?"

Megamind shrugs. "Protects against whiplash. Means I don't have to touch him any more than he has to touch me. Keeps stuff away from my neck. Looks badass." He slides it back into place behind his head and wiggles it down; there's a soft click as it locks in. "Take your pick."

She tilts her head. "How do you not choke every time he hauls you off to prison by your collar?"

He blinks at her, amused. "So many questions!"

"Only two," she points out. She doesn't ordinarily ask them so close together, though; it's not surprising that he'd call her on it. "Sorry, were we not having conversation time? I thought we were."

Megamind shakes his head and doesn't reply. His exasperated expression is ruined somewhat by the smile that keeps creeping in around his eyes, but he turns around anyway and stalks back over to the car-sized machine by the wall.

"There's a harness," Minion tells her in an undertone, as Megamind flounces off to finish bringing this week's doomsday device into position. "Between his leathers and his undersuit."

"Ah," Roxanne says.

"We had some bad years before we perfected the locking mechanism," he admits. "One time—"

"Minion," Megamind says loudly. "Stop fraternizing with the pawn and go finish setting up the cameras."

Minion jumps, looking guilty. "Right, Sir." To Roxanne, he says, "Congratulations again on your niece," before scurrying away.

Megamind's next plot is an elaborate thing with a lot of knives involved. A lot of knives, but no kidnapping. Roxanne is hopeful about the week after that, but the days crawl by with no word from the city's resident reigning villain, and Friday finds Roxanne in a cranky mood, sitting in her chair at her desk, staring up at the ceiling with her head on the back of her chair.

So, this is what life is without a supervillain in it. Get up, go to work. Go home. Wash dishes. Laundry. Eat. Sleep.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

She sighs and sits up, clicks through her emails in search of something to do.

Her job has its exciting moments. It does. She loves going out on assignments, talking to new people about what they're doing in their lives or their jobs. She loves thinking on camera, knocking the inevitable curveball response out of the park with an insightful followup question. And a few times, she's found projects that involved deep dives into corporate wrongdoing or government corruption—those were particularly fun, and Roxanne is itching to get her hands on another one. She has to work on them after hours, on her own time, because there's no money in accountability reporting, but…that's okay. She doesn't mind. It's worth it to be able to really sink her teeth into something.

It's been ages since she's been able to really get into a project. All her recent reports have been one-offs: local businesses, startups, charities. They're nice, and it is sort of satisfying to be able to tackle multiple reports in a week; it just…isn't the same kind of satisfying as really digging at a problem.

"Should've gone into private detective work," she mumbles.

So. It's Friday. It's been two weeks since Megamind has offered her any kind of respite from the mundane, and Roxanne is cranky.

And then Hal shows up.

"Hey, Roxaroo!" he exclaims, popping up behind her and making her jump. "Friday night! TGIF, am I right? You free, or are you going out with the girls?"

Oh. Wonderful.

Roxanne already knows where this is going, and she does not have the energy for it. "I have plans," she says, tone light. She really should just lie to him and tell him she's got a hot date, but she doesn't want to have to deal with how pissy he always gets about that. And she doesn't want to have to lie. "Got plans for a quiet night in. I want to finish that book I was telling you about."

"Oh, oh—right! Right, the Civil War one."

Roxanne blinks, momentarily thrown. But oh, right…nope, he wasn't listening. The "Civil War one" was two books ago. And it was the French Revolution.

"Well, that's cool, that's…" His face says 'boring.' "That's cool! But hey, you have time for a drink, first. Maybe two drinks! Maybe swing by my place, play some co-op! Or, or talk books," he amends quickly, when Roxanne's expression stays flat. He laughs nervously. "Books are fine too, totally cool, totally cool."

She takes a deep breath and starts gathering up her things. Her purse, her work laptop. She'd shut down properly first, usually, but today she just wants out of this interaction. "Not tonight, Hal." She stands and steps forward, starts to brush past him.

He jumps back and steps in front of her. "Hey, or—we can talk about us! All the good times we've had lately!" He sends her a smile that he clearly intends to be winning. "We've had a good week, got a lot done, huh? Drinks on me, Roxie, I'm buying."

Which, honestly, as far as attempts at asking someone out go, is not the worst attempt Roxanne has fielded. Not by half.

But the last ten—twenty—thirty—attempts were all by Hal. All of them. Despite Roxanne's repeated attempts to shoot him down nicely, despite her insistence that no, thank you, not tonight, not tonight, not tonight—the man cannot take a hint. Roxanne has been getting increasingly firm about it, telling him she's just not that into him, pointing out their wildly differing interests in literally everything, at one point just flat out saying, "No, Hal," and walking away, at which point he followed her and kept talking, and just—

"It's not happening, Hal," she snaps, finally leaving the edge in her voice. "Stop. We are coworkers. That is all. There is no 'us.' There will never be an 'us.' You need to set your sights on someone else, or I'm going to HR."

Hal is momentarily speechless, and then he scowls. "Well—well fine," he snaps, flushing angrily. "Fine. You could've just said you weren't feeling it, jeez. I was just being nice, I just wanted to see if you felt like hanging out, but—fine."

Roxanne sighs. "Hal…"

"No, it's fine. It's cool." He steps back, holding his hands up by his shoulders, palms out. "I guess you just don't like hanging out with people. Whatever."

Okay, so, fuck him, then. She hikes her purse onto her shoulder and breezes past him to the elevator.

Whatever, indeed. She'll see how he is on Monday after he's had some time to cool down. Hopefully those friends he chats with in his games will be able to talk some sense into him and he won't be too weird about it; she has to work with him, after all.

She probably should have gone to HR about Hal ages ago, but…gone to them with what? Nothing he does ever seems HR-worthy. He's just persistent and kind of weird. Roxanne has dealt with persistent and weird before. It's fine, probably. Hal is annoying and he gets pissy about being left out of Roxanne's social life, but that's not worth making waves about. Roxanne just wants to go home, put her feet up, and finish her book.

And not think about Megamind's silence.

She's not worried, exactly. She knows better than to worry about Megamind. He's gone quiet like this before, a few times; it usually means he's building up to a whopper of a plan. Something really big and showy.

But still. Roxanne wasn't present at the last one, but Megamind is a pro at broadcasting his schemes and she saw the whole thing, start to finish. Including the part where Metro Man picked him up by the throat and threw him fifty feet onto concrete. It took him a few seconds to get back up, after that one.

But he did get back up. The plot wrapped up quickly after that—a few seconds' delay is usually all Metro Man needs to get a good start dismantling Megamind's doomsday device du jour—but Megamind did get back up, with fire in his eyes above his Cheshire cat grin. And he was stumbling, yes, but only a little, and he was still cackling with evil laughter and vowing 'revahnge' as Metro Man hauled him off to prison. Roxanne has only seen him bleed a couple of times, in all the years he's been kidnapping her. The man cannot be beaten.

God. Roxanne doesn't like being kidnapped, doesn't like not being able to plan her days without wondering if a wrench is going to be thrown into her plans, but Megamind does break up the monotony like nothing else. And he's fun to talk to, during the plans when she wakes up before it's time to go live; fun to banter with and tease and try to catch off-guard when she wakes up partway through.

Hopefully this coming week. Maybe even this weekend.

"Okay, no, even I know that's rude," Megamind says flatly, when Roxanne tells him on Wednesday about the astonishing number of people who are insisting to Rose and Salim that they breastfeed.

"Strangers, even!" she says. "They don't even know them! And they keep touching the bump, it's like there's some weird universal compulsion, or something." She shakes her head. "I never even noticed, before, but now I see it happening all the time. Every time I see a pregnant person, somebody wants to touch. I don't get it. Just ask."

Megamind looks completely horrified. "What?" he says, recoiling. "On…on the…"

"On the bump, yes."

"Without asking?"

"That's correct."

He wrinkles his whole face and then changes the subject back to his Evil Plot, but two days later, there's a package on Roxanne's sofa when she comes home. It turns out to contain several shirts in bright, cheerful colors, cut to allow room for pregnancy, with the words "LOOK, DON'T TOUCH" screen-printed across the midriff in blocky, no-nonsense print. They're wonderful.

(At first, she's worried the shirts won't fit—if they're for Rose, they definitely won't. But Minion has done his homework: the shirt is several sizes too small for Rose, but perfectly the right size for Salim. And they fit him exactly the way they should; Minion must have altered them or made them from scratch, because they don't accentuate or cling the way most maternity clothes do. They fit like proper shirts should fit. "These are perfect," Salim says when he puts one on. "Where did you find them?" and heaven help her, Roxanne tells him the truth. She has no idea what else to do.)

(She has never said anything to Minion on the subject, and she isn't planning to; Roxanne is all too used to talking like her sister is the one who's pregnant. It's safest for everyone involved. But Minion deserves some credit.)

(He never actually says anything about it, and neither does Megamind—if the latter knows, he's following Roxanne's lead.)

"Thanks for the shirts," she tells Minion, the next time she sees him. "They were really appreciated. Really appreciated."

He sends her a wide, toothy smile. "I'm so glad!" he exclaims. "Sir wanted to put 'can't touch this' on some of them, but I thought that would be too…jokesy."

(Why are these the friends she's starting to feel safest around, why?)

At the baby shower, in addition to the nice crib Roxanne bought for the new addition to her sister's family, she quietly brings along a small, green-and-yellow pastel quilt, courtesy of Minion, and from Megamind, a night-light star projector that somehow manages to exactly match the night sky sans light pollution regardless of room size or shape. A few nights later, Rose sends her a poorly-lit video of Salim turning in circles under the Milky Way in the baby's pitch-dark room, staring up at the glittering sky and alternating between laughing and repeating "What. What." in a delighted sort of voice.

Megamind smiles when Roxanne shows him the video, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

As the baby draws close to term, Roxanne mentions she's willing to spend a couple nights on the sofa each week to get up with her so Rose and Salim can sleep. They take her up on this offer immediately.

And Roxanne is happy to do it, truly she is, but even two nights a week takes more out of her than she was expecting. Two months after Derya is born, Megamind demands to know what the hell is going on.

"You have been way more snappish and combative than usual the past few weeks," he tells her. "I don't know if I need to apologize for something or stage an intervention for something else, but I would really appreciate an explanation, here."

"I'm tired," Roxanne snaps. "I am tired and I feel guilty for being tired because it's only two nights a week and they aren't even consecutive nights! It's nothing to what Rose and Salim are doing!"

He blinks at her, his irritated expression clearing somewhat. "You're—oh." He leans back a little. "You're staying up with the baby?"

Roxanne sighs, wishing she could rub her eyes. "Not so much staying up as getting up with her when she cries. Which is less now than when I first started staying over, but…"

"Ah." His brow furrows and he thinks for a moment. "And what nights are you doing this?"

"Mondays and Thursdays."

"Hmm." Megamind studies her contemplatively for another few seconds, then says, "So, if I do kidnappings on either Sundays or Wednesdays for a while, maybe space them more bi-weekly instead of shooting for weekly, that would be better?"

Roxanne stares at him, totally blindsided. "You—you would do that?" she stammers. "For me?"

He blinks once, and then his expression twists and he recoils his whole body. "What? No! I would do it for me." He rolls his eyes. "You aren't supposed to enjoy this, Miss Ritchi. But I am, and I can't enjoy it with you like…this," he finishes, wrinkling his nose and gesturing vaguely at all of her.

"Oh, I see," says Roxanne, who knows better than to believe a word he says. She arranges her face into a disgruntled expression for him.

She's touched, though, she really is. Even moreso when he kicks his wheelie chair away from her and announces through his watch, "Scheme's off for today, Minion! Postponing until Sunday. Radio up to the big guy, will you?"

And when he pulls what appears to be a folding cot and a lumpy pillow out of a narrow cupboard—he lifts the cot by the end one-handed and gives it a single sharp shake to extend it—Roxanne thinks, Megamind, god, I could kiss you.

Megamind plops both cot and pillow down by a darkened workstation, then trots over to Roxanne and rearranges her so her wrists are bound loosely in front of her. "I will not tolerate any escape attempts, Miss Ritchi," he says, looking her in the eye from a severe six inches away, "do we understand each other?"

She nods, wordless. Is he—is he seriously going to—

He picks her up and carries her to the cot, deposits her there like a sack of easily-bruised potatoes. It's…surprisingly comfortable. Most camp cots Roxanne has encountered are little more than a piece of nylon stretched across a metal frame, but this one has a heavily-quilted pad suspended like a very shallow hammock between its six legs. Amazed, she scoots around a little, then stretches out on her back. Ordinarily she would curl up on her side, given Evil Lair's chill and the relatively exposed position of the cot, but the curvature of the cot seems like it would make that difficult. She's definitely tired enough to have no issues dropping off, chill or no chill.

Then there's a little click and she jumps and looks around. Megamind has just detached his cape from the rest of his shoulder array.

"Sleep," he says flatly, draping the sleek semicircle of material over her with one hand. His other hand is pressed against his hip. "Your office won't be expecting you back for another hour or two; just tell them my machine malfunctioned beyond what could be repaired in a day."

Can't thank him, he doesn't like it when I thank him, says Roxanne's fuzzy, drowsy brain, so what she mumbles is, "G'night I love you."

Megamind snorts and bursts into startled laughter as he walks away, shaking his head. "Goodnight," he returns over his shoulder, still laughing. "I love you, too."

In addition to getting up with her niece—which, thankfully, she's able to stop doing after about three months or so—Roxanne is occasionally asked to babysit. Usually this involves going to her sister's place, but eventually circumstances conspire to make it more convenient for Derya to spend an evening at Roxanne's apartment in midtown.

When this happens, Roxanne has a question for Derya's parents. Rosemary and Salim look at each other for a moment, and then Salim shrugs and Rose says, "Sure. I don't see why not."

"Friday the 27th," Roxanne tells Megamind, the next time she opens her eyes at the Lair. "Be at my apartment at four PM. Minion should come, too."

"Why?" Megamind asks, suspicious.

"It's a surprise," Roxanne replies, winking. "Oh, and no spiky gloves."

He's quiet for a surprisingly long time, fingers steepled in front of his lips, watching her. Finally, he repeats, "No spiky gloves?"

"No," Roxanne says firmly, "no spiky gloves."

Minion looks nervous. "Miss Ritchi, I don't know if that's—"

But Megamind leans back in his chair like he's made a decision and cuts him off. "No, I'm sure it's fine. That's…that's okay. I can. Do. No spikes."

Roxanne cocks her head. "Is there a problem with no spikes?"

"No problem at all," Megamind says smoothly, rising to his feet. "They generate a force field that deflects projectiles going fast enough to penetrate my skin. But I hardly think you're inviting me over to shoot me."

She blinks. "No. God, no, that's…no," she says, feeling a bit sick at the thought, "that's not what I'm inviting you over to do. The ones on your collar, are they…?"

"Also part of the armor," he says, stretching and then wincing and rubbing at his shoulder. "Saved my life more than once."

"Huh," she says, for lack of anything better to say. She's sort of taken aback at the reminder that this is armor. His leathers, the collar, the spikes: these are pieces of actual armor, and he needs them. Of course he would need protection, in his line of work, especially against a hero with super-strength, but…that's a shame. A shame that it's necessary for him. "That's good. I'm glad they worked."

Megamind studies her with an odd expression on his face for a second, then shakes his head. He starts to turn, starts to address Minion—

—But then he turns back, looking like he's just remembered something.

"Oh," he says, his tone abrupt. "I meant to ask. What is your cameraman's problem?"

Roxanne blinks. "What? What problem?"

Megamind cocks his head at her, frowning. "The lighting has been off in close to eighty percent of your televised pieces for the past two months. That's not accidental. What's his problem?"

She scowls. The lighting. Of course. Of course that's what Hal is doing. "His problem is I don't want to date him. He's been trying to get me to go out with him for years and I finally told him to leave me alone in no uncertain terms." She rolls her eyes. "So now, apparently, he's refusing to do his job, thinking that's somehow going to punish me."

She isn't surprised, really. Hal has not asked her out again, though he's made several passive-aggressive references to why he isn't doing so—"Friday night, oh, but you've probably got a book to finish, huh?"—and he is doing his stupid-life-not-going-my-way routine a lot more, recently. He definitely seems more irritable than usual, and Roxanne is under no illusions as to why.

Megamind frowns. "Is there anything you can do about it?" he asks, and Roxanne shrugs.

"Honestly? Probably not. He'll get over it eventually. At least he isn't constantly up my ass anymore."

Megamind blinks, then wrinkles his nose. "That is a collooquialism I'm not familiar with."

Roxanne snorts. "Figuratively speaking," she says, and he shoots her a grin.

"Yes, I thought it probably was. He's been like this for a long time?" At Roxanne's nod, he tilts his head. "How is he still employed?"

She sighs. "He's decently good at what he does and he knows sound setup as well as film work." She shakes her head. "It's fine. Hal's kind of a turd, but he's all bark and no bite."

Megamind doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't argue. His questions having been answered, he spins on his heels and marches away. "Minion!" he barks. "Ready the treebuchettes!" He says this like it rhymes with "three machetes," and Roxanne laughs.

Chapter Text

Megamind knocks on her balcony door at four o'clock exactly, three sharp taps, and Roxanne has to catch her breath. This isn't weird. Isn't weird at all that she's invited the local supervillain over to her home to socialize.

He holds his hands up when she pushes the curtain back, wiggles his fingers in demonstration as she opens the door. "No spikes," he says.

"No spikes," she agrees, taken aback and feeling…something, she isn't sure what, because his hands are—bare, not just spikeless but entirely gloveless, and that's not—oh, and— "You probably could have left the ones on your mantle," she says, and Megamind gives her a quick little grin.

"I thought if you don't want spikes, you probably have a reason. Can I come in?" He bounces on the balls of his feet and glances over his shoulder. "I don't—mind, but I am—feeling kind of exposed, here?"

"Yes, of course, please," and she quickly steps aside to let him past. "No Minion?"

"He decided to sit this one out," he says, "just in case something should go wrong."

Roxanne nods, staring at him. No spikes, none at all; is he completely unprotected except for his leathers? Just because she asked him to? "Smart," she says, "that's very…very smart."

"Ollo," he returns, eyebrows rumpling with humor. "Supergenius over here, the head's big for a reason. Are you going to tell me what this is about?"

"Right!" She shakes her head, shakes herself back into gear. "Right, yes, there's—um, I have some people I'd like you to meet! So if—"

The little smile drops right off Megamind's face. "People," he says flatly, dropping a hand to the gun on his leg and taking a reflexive step back. "What people."

Crap. Crap, she should have thought of how that would sound. "It's okay, Megamind, it's just—"

"Where did you meet them?" he demands. His voice is edged with alarm and he's backing away, fumbling for the door with his free hand. "What did they say to you?"

She shakes her head wildly, waves at him. "No no no it isn't like that, I promise; please, just listen. Please."

He pauses, one hand on the door and the other on his gun, breathing shallowly and wide-eyed...but he's waiting. "Talk quickly."

"I know what you are," she says in a rush, but her voice is quiet and her eyes are urgent, searching his, "I haven't forgotten, Megamind, and I would never, never ask you to go anywhere without full protection unless I…it's just my sister; she's in the bathroom or you would have seen her from the balcony, but I have known her all her life and she will not hurt you, I swear."

Megamind slowly, slowly straightens up out of his defensive half-crouch and takes his hand off his gun. "Your sister."

"And my niece."

"Your…" His eyes go very wide. "Oh," he says, and his other hand falls away from the door and drops to his side. "Oh."

She shakes her head again. "I am so sorry, I didn't even think to warn you about people. I—I just, I wanted it to be a surprise. I should have warned you, I'm so sorry."

He's staring at her. "You…want me to meet…"

She chuckles and jerks her head at the rest of her apartment. "Come on."

The baby carrier is out of sight on the other side of the sofa, but a few more steps and he would have seen it. Roxanne crouches beside it, hands busy with buckles. "Hallo," she sings, "there you are! Look who's awake! Hi, yes, you get to visit with Auntie Roxie!"

"Roxanne, thanks so much for doing this," someone says, and Megamind spins, "I really…oh. Hi!"

"Up we go," Roxanne says, behind him. "Rose, Megamind; Megamind, Rose."

"Man, when you said he'd be here at four, you weren't kidding!" Rose is a full head and a half taller than Roxanne—different jaw, different nose, and she's willowy where Roxanne is curvy—but they have the same smile and she's obviously Roxanne's sister. "I didn't expect a supervillain to be…punctual."

"He has good timing," Roxanne says, "when he wants to."

He should say, No, Miss Ritchi, I have wicked timing! Always! and follow it up with an evil laugh. That's what he should say. Instead…

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Megamind says, offering what he hopes is a friendly nod and a smile. It's not one of his best; he hasn't practiced friendly in a while.

"You, too," Rose says, smiling, and sticks out her hand.

Megamind looks at it.

"You shake it." Rose laughs a little. "Annie, lord, is he always like this?"

"No, usually he's a big snarky pain in the butt," Roxanne says happily. "Kunik! Nose kiss! …Oh, what a big smile! Megamind, relax, she's not going to bite you."

He flushes. "I know that," he says, and reaches forward and shakes Rose's hand.

"There," she says, grinning down at him (Everyone is taller than me, everyone, even Roxanne's sister, it's not fair), "that wasn't so bad, right? Aw, I'm just teasing."

Roxanne steps into his field of view, moving to stand next to her sister. They have the same eyes, too, but Roxanne's are a lighter blue. And in her arms—

Megamind's eyes go the widest and he knows, he just knows the grin on his face is absolutely goofy-huge, but he can't stop himself. "Oh," he breathes.

The baby stares at him, giant topaz eyes in a little brown face—he's expecting her to cry; small children usually cry when they see him. But instead, she says, "Ah!" and gives him a great big gummy smile, and kicks her little bootied feet, and Megamind is going to die.

"You want to hold her?" Rose asks.

Megamind looks up, shocked, delighted, totally not bothering to even try to hide it. He is so far out of his depth, and he so does not care. "Hold—yes? Can I?"

"If she wants you to," Roxanne says, and moves closer; Megamind is already reaching for the warm, cooing little creature, who—incredibly—seems to be putting her hand towards him, as well. "Oh, that's a yes," Roxanne says, and steps close to arrange Derya on her back in Megamind's arms. The baby settles without complaint and continues to boggle at him.

"She's so small," he whispers.

"This is Derya," Rose says. "She's a lot bigger than she was, but yes, she is on the small side for her age."

"Derya," he repeats, his eyes and voice going very soft, and adjusts his grip a little, bouncing her unconsciously as she stares at him. "Ollo, Derya."

He hasn't taken his eyes off her since he looked at her, and Roxanne is honestly wondering if he's about to cry. If he doesn't blink soon, he probably will, just out of necessity. After a moment, Rose clears her throat and says, "Well, I can't stay, Salim is waiting with the car. Annie, you know her routine already and the notebook is on the kitchen island. Megamind…"

"Hmm?" He finally glances up, his face all shining joy; Roxanne has never seen him look like this.

Rose laughs, picking up her coat from the back of the sofa and shrugging into it. "Between you and my sister, I think she's in good hands," she says. She picks up her purse, rifles through it, nods to herself. "Okay. Bye-bye Derya! Bye-bye! We'll be back! Annie, see you around twelve, okay?"

The door closes after her while Megamind is still trying to formulate a response to—to this woman who has just—told him he could hold her child—said she was in good hands—good hands—his hands—

His breath catches in his throat and he has to look quickly back down at Derya so Roxanne won't see how bright his eyes are. God, what is he, some kind of kid? He's not going to cry at a baby, come on, babies aren't something to cry about. "Derya," he says softly, and touches her tiny nose. She swipes at his finger, grips it on the second try, and he chuckles and strokes her little fist with his blue thumb. "Derya. We're never going to stop laughing at Miss Ritchi, are we…? No, we're not; Annie is a stupid nickname, she deserves better…"

Roxanne bursts out laughing. "You aren't going to give her back, are you?"

"Nope," Megamind replies, grinning down at Derya, "it's too late, Miss Ritchi, she's mine now. Can you take the shoulder array?" he adds, tugging his finger free so he can fumble with the clasp at the base of his throat. "I can't get it off with one hand."

"Sure," Roxanne says, startled. "Um. Hold on, let me…I just lift it off?"

"Up and back," he says, and she's…okay, she's behind him, now, he can't see what she's doing. But that's okay, it's okay; it's just Roxanne. "Yes. Just like that." He steps forward as soon as he's free and turns around quickly; Derya gurgles and shoves her knuckles in her mouth.

Roxanne smiles at him as she turns away to arrange his shoulder array on the back of one of her chairs—she isn't sure how to disassemble it. "So, Metrocity's would-be Evil Overlord likes children," she says.

"Babies," he says, smiling a little at her pronunciation. "Not children. Children are horrible little beasts and I detest them."

Her smile slips. "I'm guessing you didn't like school."

"No." He sits down on the sofa, cross-legged. "School didn't like me, either. But Derya likes me, don't you, Derya?" The baby wriggles again, cooing and chewing on her fist, all big eyes and gums, and then she swipes at his face again. "What?" he says, grinning down at her, leaning his head forward a little. "What?"

She slaps her hand on his beard, and he bursts into startled laughter.

"Oh, that's right," Roxanne says, taken aback at the new way he's laughing, "yeah, textures. She's really big into textures right now. She can hold her head up—she probably wants to, now that she's more awake. If you—yeah, that works."

"I know absolutely nothing about child development," Megamind tells her, holding the baby around her chest with both hands and letting her sort of vaguely bend and unbend her knees while 'standing' on his legs. "I left home at eight days old. I was still fairly underformed at that point."

"Eight days," Roxanne says. "Wow, that's…young."

"It was fine." Megamind scoffs a laugh. "Eight days old and still living with my parents? Clearly it was time to move on."

She hesitates, wondering if she should pursue that or not, wondering whether he's serious. But Megamind appears to be blowing it off, so…she'll follow his lead. She cocks her head at him and goes with the other question tugging at her. "What was it like? Before that? Do you have any pictures, or…"

"Oh, I remember everything," he says breezily. "I spent most of it in the water when I was awake. Not all of my time, but a significant portion. My parents—I didn't spend much time with them, unfortunately; they were consumed with building my spacepod and checking their calculations."

"That's a shame," Roxanne says, thinking, calculations?

Megamind glances over at her. "I did have some contact with them," he says. "There was an instrument my mother played. It echoed. And one time, they…at night, I remember there were these…bioluminescent organisms blooming across the waves. They would wash onto the pseudo-beach and linger on the wrack lines."

"Oh," Roxanne says, startled and sort of dismayed, "they died there?"

Megamind shakes his head. "No, no. It was part of their life cycle, I think; they flew. Floated? My parents took me out for a closer look one night, to see the—I think, I think they were called," and here he pipes a high few notes like a bird, a whistling trill that makes Derya give a delighted little shriek in response. Megamind smiles down at her. "They dried themselves on the wrack lines as the tide went out, and then their fluff carried them up off the pseudo-beach with the wind. It was…pretty. Lots of little points of light in the air."

Roxanne is smiling, imagining this, and Megamind looks almost wistful—another expression she's never seen on him.

Then his smile starts to fade, and she can't take that, so she says, "Want to learn how to heat up a bottle?"

And Megamind's head snaps up, as she had known it would, and he says, "What? You. I get to feed her?" He lifts Derya in against his shoulder, steadying her there with a long hand on her back. "Is she hungry?"

"It's four-fifteen," Roxanne says, "and babies do routines. And sure, if you want to, you can feed her." He looks absolutely thunderstruck about this, so she sends him a wicked grin and adds, "If you aren't careful, I might even teach you how to change a diaper."

This has the opposite effect of what she was expecting. She had thought he would scoff and pull a face, but he doesn't. He stares. He looks totally blank for like five whole seconds and then he says, "I would. Be happy to learn. How to do that."

Roxanne grins. "Wonderful."

It is not inaccurate to say Megamind is absolutely smitten with the baby. He doesn't seem to want to put her down. He follows Roxanne's guiding instructions and holds her while she eats, he puts a towel with tiny rabbits on it over his shoulder and holds her against his chest and pats her warm little back with his hand until she burps, he bounces her and watches her scoot around on the floor for a while when she starts getting fussy. He does learn to change a diaper, and he smiles down at her and talks nonsense the whole time while she stares up at him.

The really funny thing is Derya seems fairly smitten with him, as well. He sets her on her play mat for a bit while he leaves briefly to use the bathroom and Derya fusses until he's out of sight—and as soon as he comes back, she pushes herself up on both arms. She's a social little thing and has been that way pretty much from day one, so the fact that she's okay with Megamind is not surprising, but Roxanne hasn't seen her ask 'up' from someone new so quickly before. This is better than she could have hoped.

Minion swings by shortly before bedtime, after Megamind talks to him for a while over his watch. Derya is sleepy and sort of cranky and uncertain at first, but she does still seem wildly entertained by Minion's giant cuddly gorilla body and big toothy grin. Roxanne gets a wonderful candid picture of Minion holding the baby up in both hands, both of them smiling at each other just as big as they can. Megamind suddenly jumps and says, "Your lights, Minion, can you do your lights like you used to—"

"Oh!" Minion exclaims. "Oh, let me see if I remember…"

He stills for a moment, and then Roxanne gasps and Derya crows and kicks her whole body as dazzling ripples of blue and green and gold shimmer over his sides.

"Minion, my goodness, you're beautiful!" Roxanne exclaims. "Derya, gentle, be gentle," as the baby slaps her hands on his dome. "Not that you aren't always striking, but—wow, chromatophores! That's unexpected!"

Minion grins down at her, looking slightly startled. "Yes, I don't have any reason to use them, much," he says. "And they aren't really lights, they don't work the way my lateral line system emits light; they're just reflective. But, um—if you ever get the chance to see Sir and me in the water, um—he, there's a thing we do, it's—cultural? sort of? psychophysical, really—anyway, he does actually luminesce."

It takes Roxanne a moment to parse that, but then she turns to Megamind, mouth open in shock. "You glow?"

"Somewhat," he says, blinking, a little bit stiff. "Yes. I have…patterns, subcutaneous lymphatic vessels that…yes. They light up when Minion and I reconfirm our intercranial link."

"He's very pretty," Minion says, and Megamind glares at him, but Roxanne just looks amazed.

"I'll bet he is," she says. "Good lord."

Minion blinks down at her for a moment, then carefully hands Derya back. "Well," he says. "Well, I'll…ah…let you put this little one to bed. Sir, will you be coming back to the lair…soon? or…?"

Megamind hesitates. "I can," he says. "I…should? Probably?"

"Oh, stay," Roxanne says, adjusting the clip of Derya's nook on her onesie and giving her niece another nose-kiss. "Once I put her down, it'll just be me, here. Being bored. It's fun to actually get to talk to you without some plot hanging over our heads."

Megamind looks uncertain.

"I thought I'd put Derya down and then heat up some dinner," Roxanne tells him. "Nothing fancy, but you are welcome to stay. Rescue me from working from home at nine o'clock at night."

"Why don't I," Minion says, when Megamind hesitates, "run back to the Lair and get dinner? And bring it here."

Roxanne blinks. "Oh, you don't have to do that—"

"It's no trouble," Minion says. "I'll be making it anyway. And Sir has some…specific dietary requirements? That he really shouldn't leave until late at night."

"Minion," Megamind says, a touch of warning in his voice.

"Well, all right," Roxanne says. "But only if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," he assures her, smiling and backing towards the door. Roxanne frowns a little. "I'll be back before you know it."

After the hoverbike putters away into the sky, Roxanne goes and sets Derya up in her bedroom. She connects the wireless baby monitor, then puts Derya down in her travel cot, which is a kind of long, stiff bag with a padded base and a hood up over one end, shaped vaguely like a dinosaur head.

"Oh!" says Megamind, hovering curiously in the door of Roxanne's room. "It has spikes!"

Roxanne blinks, then snorts. It does, sort of: a dorsal ridge of cloth triangles run down the back of the hood. "I love this thing," she says. "It's so cute. Okay! Nighty night! Sleepytime!"

Derya fusses, whines. Fusses louder and starts to cry when Roxanne straightens out of her field of vision.

"Oh, lord," Roxanne murmurs. "Sweetie, it's sleepytime," she says.

Derya cries louder.

"Okay," Roxanne says, picking her up and settling her against her shoulder. "Okay, okay. Shh."

Megamind clears his throat. "Can I…?"

"Sure, see if you can get her down," Roxanne says. Derya seems fine with being handed off to the blue alien hovering in Roxanne's doorway; she just doesn't want to be in her cot. "Bedtime can be a little fraught. She likes walked around and bounced gently. Humming is okay. She usually falls asleep pretty quickly when she's being held—we don't want her to get too used to it, but she hasn't been to my place to sleep before."

Megamind hums sympathetically. "Being alone is scary when you're small," he says. "You have adults around you all day, and then they go away and leave you alone at night and expect you to fall asleep. It's jarring, isn't it? I remember."

Roxanne watches him pace back and forth across her carpet for a while, then sighs. "You okay in here?" she asks, pitching her voice low. "I'm going to go get some cooking stuff set out for Minion, okay?"

Megamind nods and continues to pace, Derya slumped against his shoulder.

Minion slips in so quietly that Roxanne jumps when he asks, behind her, "Where's Sir?"

"Oh—! Minion, good lord." She presses a hand to her chest. "You're so quiet! He's trying to get Derya to sleep."

"Ah," Minion says, his expression clearing. "Yes. Bedtime. Sir refused to have a bedtime, when we were small. He fell asleep fairly regularly when we were infants, but once he could walk and hold a pencil, that was the end of bedtime."

"I bet that went over well," Roxanne says, lips twitching. Minion shrugs.

"Mitch and Guduza didn't really have a problem with it, as long as we stayed quiet and let them sleep. Which is good. Our cycles are different from yours; our home planet's days were shorter."

Roxanne blinks. She would never have thought of that being an issue, but it makes sense—what are the odds of Megamind's atmospheric requirements being met and his day-night cycles lining up? "Huh," she says. She glances down at the baby monitor, then smiles a little; Megamind is still pacing slowly up and down next to Roxanne's bed where the carry cot is. "And…you mentioned something about his diet?"

Minion nods and begins unpacking the large tote bag he brought in with him from the balcony. "Yes. Sir and I can both eat almost anything—although I require far more raw protein than he does—but he has an extremely fast metabolism. From what we've been able to glean, he processes sugars much more efficiently than humans—transfers them from his blood to his muscles extraordinarily quickly. But he generally needs to consume mostly glucose, with some fructose thrown in. He's a little less adept at processing fructose, but with enough glucose padding it, he's fine. It's good for him to have a balance."

Roxanne blinks, trying to sort through all this. Minion hasn't always been this chatty, but he has opened up to her somewhat over the years. It's nice. She always likes talking with Minion. "He…wait, he eats straight sugar?"

Minion chuckles. "No. He mostly eats veggies and fish, some poultry. But fruits and nectar are a significant part of his diet. We had an interesting couple of years while the prison doctor worked that out—human children aren't supposed to have nearly as much sugar as Sir needs, but he kept breaking out of our cell and sneaking into Mess and eating it right out of the bag. Even Sir wasn't sure why, back then; all he knew was that he craved it pretty much constantly." He pauses, holding what appears to be a large, unlabeled jar of honey. "Except for a two-month period when he was eleven, during which all he wanted was lima beans. And almonds. That was a strange time." He places the jar carefully on Roxanne's kitchen island.

"Honey?" she asks. Minion nods.

"I prefer it to table sugar; it seems to work better overall. May I use a pot? Ah, thank you."

"You must go through an awful lot of honey in a year," Roxanne says, trying to get her head around this.

"It's not so bad," Minion says. "The highest roof in Evil Lair has beehives."

Roxanne's eyebrows disappear under her bangs. "Beehives?"

Minion nods again, sending an amused smile down at her. "Yes, beehives. Ten of them. Evil Lair was a wonderful find, for us—it's so big, and it has so many levels! The roof is—well, roofs, really. Multiple levels. So, the highest level is bees, second-highest is a green rooftop. Mostly alfalfa. For the bees." He hesitates. "Sir wouldn't like that I'm telling you this."

"Oh, come on," Roxanne says, passing him the honey when he turns. She leans against her counter and smiles up at him. "You know I'm not going to tell anyone, Minion. Looks like about a two-to-one ratio?" she adds, glancing down at the pot. "Is it just honey and water?"

Minion is quiet for a moment, but finally he smiles back and—aw, he pats her on the shoulder with a big metal hand; Roxanne was never expecting him to go that far. "And lemon, and bitter cassava," he says, nodding at where these are sitting on the counter. "I'll be done with this pretty soon; I'm also going to make enchiladas."

Roxanne blinks, some of her pleased surprise fading somewhat. "Wait, back up. Bitter cassava?" She frowns, remembering a book she read about food staples in various cultures. "But isn't that…"

"Toxic? To humans, yes," he says. "Extremely, if it's not prepared correctly. But for Sir, it supplements…oh, I don't know what to call them. Many of his amino acid equivalents are the same as yours, or they're similar. But some are totally different. And bitter cassava is toxic to humans because it contains glucosides that metabolize into hydrogen cyanide, which disrupts your mitochondria. Sir has something similar to mitochondria, but their composition is almost entirely different."

She stares at him, now completely thrown. "That's…Minion, how on earth did you figure that one out?"

Minion doesn't look at her. He's pouring honey into the water in the pot. It's not boiling, not even close, but convection is starting to occur. "Sir figured that out on his own," he says, and Roxanne bites her lip. "But it makes sense. Lima beans and almonds are both comparatively high in cyanic compounds; we think that's why he was craving them as a child. He hit a minor growth spurt shortly afterwards. Could you keep stirring this while I get the lemon ready? Thanks."

Behind them, Roxanne's bedroom door clicks quietly closed. "Okay," Megamind says, approaching. "She's down."

"Awesome," Roxanne says, turning and smiling over her shoulder at him. She sets the mystery of Megamind's diet aside, for now. "I hope you didn't have to wear a hole in the carpet."

Megamind shakes his head. "Oh, no," he says, waving a hand. "Not even close. You were right, she was out pretty quickly. But I thought I better keep at it for a few minutes to make sure she stayed asleep."

Roxanne's lips twitch. "You just didn't want to let go of her," she teases. Megamind flushes all the way up to the tips of his ears.

"No!" he protests. "No, that was fine! I just. Thought she should be fully asleep first."

Roxanne grins at him as Minion comes back with the lemon and cassava liquid in a small bowl. "And…?"

He huffs. "Fine. And I didn't want to let go of her." Roxanne laughs, and he scowls at her. "Well, I like her! So sue me! She's small and cute! What's your point!"

"Nothing, nothing!" She's still laughing, though, and Megamind finally just sits down in one of the kitchen chairs and glares at her. "I'm just…really glad you enjoyed getting to meet her. I wasn't sure if you would have any interest in babies."

"They are small and cute," he mumbles.

"And like recognizes like, I get it," Roxanne says, still teasing. Megamind blinks, then squawks at her, indignant. "Minion, here's a glass for that."

"Thank you, Miss Ritchi," Minion says, pouring about half of the viscous liquid into the cup she hands him. "Here, Sir."

Grumbling under his breath, Megamind sips at his nectar. Then he blinks down at it. "Ooh, cassava," he says, sounding startled. "Thanks, Minion. You found another supplier?"

Minion nods. "It took me some time to convince them, but they eventually agreed to the dead drops."

Roxanne leans on her elbow, grinning at Megamind. "I guess I can't try that, huh."

Megamind blinks at her. "No, it is very much poison."

"Ah, well," she sighs, still smiling. He smiles uncertainly back at her as Minion sets about unpacking the ingredients for the human-safe portion of their dinner. "Can't have everything. Minion, can I help with the enchiladas?"

"Did you tell her?" Minion asks, as he waits by the door for Megamind to finish stowing his jetpack in the trunk of the invisible car after they get home. "About her cameraman? What you found?"

Megamind sighs. "There…wasn't an opportunity."

Minion frowns. "Sir, if something happens—"

"It probably won't, Minion."

"But if—"

"It probably won't," he says again, firmly. "She's worked with the man for…how many years? Five? Six? And in all that time, he has done nothing."

"Send her an email," Minion suggests. "An anonymous one."

Megamind rolls his eyes and stands back to hold the door open for his friend. "Oh, because anonymous emails saying watch out for your coworker; he's found some not-good internet communities are such reliable sources of information." Minion opens his mouth, but Megamind just shakes his head. "I'll talk to her," he says. "I'll tell her at the next kidnapping. Okay? It's only a few days from now, and she doesn't typically see him over the weekend."

Minion sighs. "Okay, Sir. As long as she finds out soon."

Megamind nods. "Yes. Agreed. Soon."

Chapter Text

"Aaaaand wrap that up and give it to a child on Christmas! 'Cause we're done!" Hal exclaims, lowering his camera. Roxanne relaxes and tips her head from side to side to crack her neck.

"Awesome," she says, tired. "Finally. I can't wait to get back to the newsroom, I hate these all-day stints."

"Yep, they're pretty much the worst," Hal agrees, packing the camera away in its bag before hefting it into the van so he can start disassembling the microphone setup. "Can't believe it took us 'til eight to get this wrapped. That traffic jam earlier was a major buzzkill. Plans this evening?"

It's the first time he's asked that in a non-snippy way in a while, and he's been weirdly close to his old chipper self all day. Roxanne sighs. "Not really," she says. "I'm just tired. Want to go home and put my feet up."

"Yeah, same," Hal says, startling her into looking over at him. He isn't looking at her; he appears to be focused on the mic case. "I, uh, I picked up this old Atari system on Ebay and I am sooo close to finishing restoring it. They don't make games like that anymore, I can't wait to try them out."

"Huh," Roxanne says. "Neat."

"Yeah, I'm pretty hyped about it. I—" His phone buzzes, pings its ringtone. "Yello," he says, and Roxanne hears someone on the other end speaking in an urgent tone of voice. "What? They—aw, c'mon, we just packed up!" He heaves a huge sigh. "Fine. Yeah. Damascus…7 East Walnut. Got it. Do you know if—hello? Hello?" He pulls the phone away from his ear. "Dammit," he snaps. "Shit. My stupid phone just friggin died; can you call Carl and see if he knows how long this thing's expected to go?"

She blinks. If there are changes of plan, Carl usually calls her first, not Hal. But it's not a big thing. "Sure," she says, and takes out her phone. "Let me just…oh. Well." She glances at Hal. "Mine is dead, too."

"Ugh," Hal says, throwing his head back and slouching his shoulders dramatically. "Fine."

"Isn't there a charger in the van?"

"Oh—no, I uh—I cleaned it out two days ago. For the uh, the cleaning crew. Didn't you get the email? Huh. But yeah, I haven't got round to putting everything back yet." He grimaces sheepishly at her as they climb into the van. "Some timing, huh?"

Roxanne bites her lip. "You said East Walnut? I'm not super familiar with that part of town."

"I'm pretty sure I know how to get there. He said it was industrial waterfront."

"So what's up with this, anyway?" Roxanne asks. Hal turns the key in the ignition and the news van sputters to life.

"Marcellus's crew can't make it to an evening gig," he says. "It's a microbrewery and gastropub. Damascus Brewing. For the local highlight? You know? And hey, uh," he laughs nervously, "silver lining—maybe we can grab a drink after! Kidding, kidding. Haaa."

Roxanne groans and clunks her forehead gently against the window. Great. Evening interviews are not her favorite; she's at her best much earlier in the day. And with her phone dead, she can't do any last-minute research on the venue before they get there. Well…okay, she'll…ask about the menu, that's always a safe bet. How they got started. Definitely the location—industrial waterfront is mostly warehouses south of the harbor; not a popular choice for an eatery. Then again, 'microbrewery and gastropub' says 'hipster hangout,' so maybe that's intentional? She can ask how much renovation they had to do, too; that tends to get restaurateurs ranting like nothing else.

The old van chugs towards the harbor as Roxanne stares out the window, disgruntled. She really is completely done with today. Nothing particularly bad happened; she's just…bored.

"So," she says, to fill the silence. "Atari, huh? What are you going to play first, once you've got it up and running?"

"Oh man, I am so glad you asked," Hal says. "So, it's a 2600, right? A classic. There were some great games released for that run and I'm itching to get my hands on a copy of Yar's Revenge. I do also want to finally play that old E.T. game that was supposedly so godawful. Like a test, you know? Just to see? And I—"

Clunk.

Hal stops talking. Roxanne sits up. "Did you—"

"—hear that? Yeah, lemme pull over."

He puts the van in park and hops out. Roxanne watches him in the side mirror as he jogs back along the road, then slows, stops, and bends over. Picks something up.

Starts to slowly walk back.

Roxanne gets out of the van. Warehouses stand tall on either side of the mostly-deserted street. "What is it?" she calls.

"Not good!" Hal yells back. "Grab your walking shoes, Roxaroo. We're gonna be hoofing it."

Roxanne keeps a pair of sneakers and clean socks in a seldom-used pocket of the microphone bag so she doesn't have to wear her heels constantly between interviews. She sighs. Today just keeps getting better and better! Two dead phones and a dead van? Awesome. Just fantastic. "You're sure we can't use the van?"

"It's the oil cap," Hal says as he gets closer. "Found it lying in a big ol' black puddle back there. At least we're close. We can probably make it in time if we walk fast, and somebody there's gotta have a phone."

Roxanne ties her shoes and puts her heels in her purse, then slings the microphone bag onto her shoulder with another sigh. "Okay. Let's do this."

About an hour later, Roxanne is staring up at the facade of a building that looks exactly like all the others up and down the deserted street. She's been trying to squash her misgivings for the past little while, but they will no longer be squashed, and she's starting to think that's probably a good thing.

"I," she says, "am not going in there. This isn't the place."

"It says Damascus right above the door, what are you talking about?" He turns the handle, pulls the—unlocked? that's odd—door open. Roxanne backs away.

"Yeah, in half-assed spray paint. There are no windows, Hal. It's dark in there, there's no parking lot for customers or signage or anything. This isn't the place." She shakes her head. "This is…maybe it's for off-site storage, or something, but I am not going inside. We'll just reschedule; they're probably closed, now, anyway." She takes another step back. "Look, let's just…the main drag isn't too far behind us. Cabs stop running at eleven; it's probably only about nine or nine-thirty. I've got good shoes, you've got good shoes. We can make it. Come on."

"If you just—"

"I'm not going in," Roxanne snaps. She isn't sure why, but she has a very bad feeling and there's only so much rationalizing she can do. "You can go if you want to, but I'm leaving."

"Ugh, fine," Hal mutters. "Yeah, it's…it's dark. You're right, they're closed. Fine. Whatever. Follow me, then, I guess. I know a shortcut."

Half an hour later, they've seen barely any cars. Roxanne is tempted to call bullshit on this shortcut, but she's only been to this part of town a few times. And this is the first day in forever that Hal has been anything close to normal at her; she's loath to rock that boat. Still, she's getting tired. The microphone bag isn't extremely heavy, but it's not exactly featherweight, either.

"So, this blows," she says, after a while.

Hal makes an ugly scoffing noise. "You're telling me. We could've at least checked to see if there was a phone."

"In a creepy warehouse with no windows at night? With no flashlight and nobody around? I don't think so."

"Yeah, yeah."

A couple minutes later, it's Roxanne's turn to make the ugly scoffing sound. "And it's starting to rain!" she exclaims. "Great."

Hal sighs. "My place isn't far from here. It's like four blocks west. Let's just go there instead and wait it out."

I'd rather just get wet, Roxanne thinks, but that would be mean. "It's fine," she says. "If your place is west, then downtown is off to the right. If we just head that direction, we should be able to catch a cab—"

"It's only four blocks, Roxie," Hal says, in a startlingly sharp voice. "It's not far. It's fine."

She frowns. "Hal, I really don't think that's—"

There's a hiss of tires on wet pavement and lights and a low hum going past with a breeze, and then a squealing of tires as a vehicle neither of them can see brakes suddenly. Roxanne stops walking, her heart leaping. Is that…

The hum approaches from in front of them, and suddenly the invisible car shimmers into visibility, reversing towards them and then stopping.

"Oh, thank god," she blurts, startling herself.

Megamind hops out of the driver's seat. "Miss Ritchi?" he says, sounding confused. "What are you doing out here at this time of night? Alone? In the rain? Oh—" He jumps a little as his eyes land on Hal, and his eyebrows lower into a sort of wary glare. "Not alone."

"Megamind," she says, relieved. "Am I glad to see you."

He blinks. "I don't know," he says. "Are you?" Then he sort of jumps and shakes himself. "That's! Missing the point! You, ah, you look like you could use a ride."

Roxanne nods and hefts the bag higher on her shoulder as she heads towards him. "That would be great. Just take us to the office, we have to get the equipment back and I still have some things I want to finish up—"

Hal dodges forward. "Roxie! What are you doing? You can't go with him!"

"I absolutely can," Roxanne returns, equally sharp. "Hal. It's raining, my feet hurt, both our phones are dead, and he's offering us a ride. It's too late for him to be pulling any kind of Eeevil Plot," she drops her tone into sarcasm and waves her hands a little. "Anyway, Megamind—if you could drop us at the newsroom, that would be fantastic."

Megamind has circled around the car to open the passenger side door for her. "Of course." He glances at Hal. "I assume by 'us' you mean your cameraman—"

"Hal Stewart."

"—Hal Schtewart needs a ride as well?"

"Ugh," says Hal, yanking his door open and flopping into the back seat with his camera bag. "Fine. Yeah. Fine. My car is still at the office anyway. And it's Stewart."

"That's what I said. Schtewart." He glances at Roxanne as he gets back into the car.

"Will your office be open?" he asks, a while later. "It's past ten o'clock at night."

"It's fine," she says, still studying the dizzying array of controls set into the dashboard of the invisible car. "Hal has a keycard."

"I see," says Megamind, slowly. "You don't have a keycard?"

"The film crews get them because they work weird hours," Roxanne says. "Journalists and reporters work eight to five and the building is unlocked from five to eight."

Megamind doesn't say anything to that, but he says it pretty loudly. Roxanne rolls her eyes.

"We work eight to five at the office," she amends. "Usually. I'll probably just run up, grab my laptop, and get a cab home."

Megamind frowns a little. "You…work too much," he says, quiet. "I—um. Minion. Worries."

Roxanne blinks, startled, and opens her mouth, but Hal finally speaks up from the back seat. "He shouldn't worry," he snaps. "That's not something to worry about. She doesn't need you to worry about her."

Megamind's eyes flick to him in the rearview, then to Roxanne's hip where her seat belt is—and then he slams on the brake. Roxanne gasps and lurches forward as her seat belt locks, and Hal yelps.

"Ow! Son of a—"

"Oops, I guess we're here," Megamind says loudly.

"Fucking finally," Hal snarls, and he's out of the car like a shot and slamming the door behind him. Roxanne winces.

Megamind sighs and looks over at Roxanne. "I don't know about him," he says. "Miss Ritchi, he—"

"He's fine," Roxanne says, rolling her eyes. "He's just tired."

Megamind bites his lip. "And you're certain you don't need a lift?"

"Yeah," she says, in the process of gathering up her purse and the microphone set. "I'm fine. You're a lifesaver, though," she adds, sending him a tired smile. "You didn't have to do that. It wasn't terribly evil of you."

"As if anyone would ever believe you," Megamind says, and he watches her as she gets out of the car, gives him a wave through the window, and heads away up the stairs of her building.

Roxanne jogs up the steps towards Hal. "Hey," she says. "Thanks for waiting."

"Yeah, yeah," Hal mutters, and swipes his card. The keypad blinks red.

"Oh, come on," says Hal, and swipes it again. "Come on." Again.

Red.

"Great," he snaps. "Great. Stupid keycard, stupid—Megamind, stupid—"

"Guess we're not getting in, huh."

Hal sighs loudly. "Ugh," he says, for the umpteenth time that evening. "Whatever. It's whatever. Let's just…get this stuff into my car and I'll drive you home."

Roxanne frowns. Hal tends to park in their building's underground parking garage.

The empty underground parking garage. With her dead phone.

She hesitates, her misgivings returning and rising and twisting in her gut. There have been…an unusual number of abandoned areas with Hal, this evening, haven't there? Plus him trying to get her to go home with him again, which…isn't promising.

"I'm going to call it a night here, I think," she says slowly, trying to hand him the microphone case. He doesn't take it. "I'll just catch a cab."

Hal rolls his eyes. "Look, Roxie, I don't know what your problem is, but how about you get over it, okay? Just let me drive you home."

"No, I really think I'm good," Roxanne says, setting the microphones on the damp concrete under the awning. "Good night, Hal."

"God stop being such a stuck up, prissy bitch and just take the fucking ride," Hal snaps.

"No," Roxanne snaps back, thrown and alarmed at the abrupt increase in aggression. Those misgivings are screaming, now. "I am finding a cab." She steps back, and Hal lunges forward and makes a grab for her arm. She wrenches it out of his grasp, stumbles back. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with you?" He throws up his hands. "Every time! Every time I tried to be nice to you, you have been a total bitch! And I keep trying to be nice and you keep sticking your head farther and farther up your own ass!"

"I don't have my head up my ass," Roxanne protests, bewildered. Okay! So! Those vibes she was getting from Hal earlier weren't totally off the mark, then? Maybe? He's never tried to grab her, before, not like that.

Hal sneers. "I bet Metro Man isn't even gay," he says, "I bet he just said he was to get away from you. It's no wonder you can't get a boyfriend. I'm being nice, Roxie, okay? Just help me carry this stuff down to my car, okay?"

"No, Hal," Roxanne says sharply, shrugging her purse higher on her shoulder and slipping her hand into the outside pocket where she keeps her pepper spray. "Back off."

"I am about done backing off, Roxie," Hal snaps, stepping forward. "You have no idea how much goddamned trouble this—just take. the fucking. ride."

"I said no, Hal."

Nearby, a car door slams. Her heart thundering in her ears,Roxanne looks past Hal and down the steps, squeezing her little cylinder of pepper spray against her palm.

Megamind is leaning casually against the invisible car, cupping his hand around a cigarette as he lights it.

"Fuck you, Hal," Roxanne says, heart pounding, and she shoves past him and stalks down the steps and does not run to the invisible car and Megamind and safety.

"Good evening," she says, coming up to her serial kidnapper with her pulse in her ears and her teeth gritted.

"—Evening," he returns, looking at her.

"That offer of a ride still on the table?"

"It certainly is." He blows a plume of smoke out of his nose and blinks at her, the sharp orange glow of the cigarette reflecting softly in his eyes. "Shall we?"

Roxanne swallows, then lifts the cigarette out of his fingers and drags on it, glances over her shoulder and makes eye contact with Hal, who's still standing up by the office door, seething. Megamind cocks an eyebrow at her. "Yeah," she says, already regretting the taste of smoke in her mouth but hoping the move was as much of a middle finger to Hal as she intended. "Yeah, let's go."

Megamind takes the cigarette back, glances at it, lifts it to his mouth for a second and glances up at Hal. "All right," he says, eyes on Hal as Roxanne pulls her door open. "Let's go."

She climbs in and drops her purse on the floor. Folds her arms over her chest. Megamind stands for a moment outside her door, looking up the steps, but he doesn't say anything and he doesn't draw his gun, and after a moment, he comes around the car and climbs in, locks the doors, and pulls away.

"Miss Ritchi," he says, after a minute or so of silence, during which Roxanne tries to get her breathing back under control and stop her thoughts from spiraling. "Roxanne. Are you okay?"

"Peachy," she snaps. Then she takes a long, slow breath. "—Sorry. Sorry, I just…" She exhales. "What even was all that."

Silence. Eventually, Megamind speaks again. "Earlier, you said both your phone and his were dead."

"Yeah," she mutters. "Fantastic timing." She has a charging cable in her purse, but it's designed for a wall outlet. Then again, if any car has unusual outlets, it's going to be this one. "Do you have anywhere I can plug this in?"

"There's an outlet set into the door just under the speaker. Did you give that man your phone at any point today?"

She blinks. "Yeah, this morning," she says, as she plugs her phone in. "Why?"

"When you turn on your phone, check it for anything that might drain your battery quickly."

Roxanne's stomach twists all over again. Hal is on a different carrier and sometimes his service goes wonky. It's not unusual for him to ask if he can check his email, but—Hal killed her phone? Is that what Megamind is saying? She was right about the weird vibe and he stranded them out there intentionally? She checks her settings first, since that's the first thing she can think of.

And. Her screen brightness is on maximum, and the display is set to 'always on.'

Megamind is not wrong.

"Fuck," she whispers.

Her phone, the van. That shady warehouse. The phone call? She heard someone talking on the other end, though; Hal wasn't faking that. The keycard? Did he sabotage his own card somehow, did he—how much of this was—

"What were you out there to do, tonight?" Megamind asks.

"Um," Roxanne says, trying to think past her heartbeat and think back, trying to figure out the point at which this all went wrong. Trying to get her head around this or find some way to make it make sense—this can't be happening; it can't be; Hal is sort of a creep, yeah, but he's always seemed more or less harmless. "Um. We had. We had an interview scheduled at Damascus Brewing."

Megamind frowns. "I've never heard of any Damascus Brewing."

"They're a microbrewery out by the industrial waterfront," she says, staring out the windshield at the rain, at nothing, biting her lip. "It was, um. A last-minute thing. Hal got the call right before his phone died. We were filling in for a team that couldn't make it. And then the oil cap fell off the bottom of the van, and…" She falls silent.

"There are no microbreweries on the waterfront."

Roxanne blinks over at him. "You—you don't know that—"

"I own several of the buildings in that area," Megamind says. His voice is very flat, but he can't help it. He probably shouldn't be telling her this, but he can't help that, either, not after reading the chat logs from Hal Stewart's computer. "There is no Damascus Brewing. And your usual news van is not new, but it is new enough that simply losing an oil cap shouldn't be enough to disable it.

"I don't know why he brought you out there," he finishes, "or where he was taking you. But it wasn't for an interview."

"—I have to call my boss," Roxanne whispers. Megamind glances over at her, worried and kicking himself. Minion was right: he should have emailed to warn her. Putting an alert out for the brainbots to keep an eye on her wasn't enough. Roxanne is a smart cookie and she can handle herself, Megamind knows, but things can go wrong at any time. Being smart and capable is no guarantee. He should have warned her.

He hears the faint tones as she dials. It doesn't matter; Megamind already knows what she's going to hear.

"Hey, Carl," she says, after a moment. "I'm sorry to be calling so late, did I wake you up…? Oh, good. Listen, I—um, I would have called sooner but my phone died; I just wanted to call and let you know that Hal and I weren't able to make it to Damascus before they closed. The news van—what?" She pauses. "Damascus Brewing, down by the waterfront? In the, um, the industrial park south of Lemon? Hal said we needed to fill in for Marcellus and his crew." Another pause. When she speaks again, her voice is quiet and shaky, sort of thready. "—Okay," she says. "Um. I. Need to talk to you about Hal, tomorrow. Morning. Please." She draws a very shivery breath. "No, I'm, I'm okay, nothing actually—I'm okay. I just. Today was a lot. And. I need to talk to you about Hal.

"Okay. Yes. Thanks. Yeah, you too, tell Walter I said hello."

She hangs up. Lowers her phone to her lap.

"…He didn't call Hal today, did he," Megamind says, after a moment.

Roxanne shakes her head.

"You okay?"

She shakes her head again and bites her lips together. "Um," she whispers, blinking hard, "do you mind, um. Just, just driving? Around? For a while? Take the long way home."

"Of course." Megamind turns left instead of right. An idea occurs. "Miss Ritchi, when was the last time you ate?"

"Around ten or so," she says faintly. "We didn't have time for lunch."

"That's more than twelve hours ago." He glances over at her in time to see her look at him. He raises his eyebrows. "Waffle House?"

This seems to startle her out of her funk somewhat. "Oh," she says. "I…sure? Yeah, I…I guess I could go for some hash browns. Will they let you in?"

"Please." Megamind rolls his eyes. "It's Waffle House."

She takes a deep breath, releases it. "Okay," she says. "Yes. That sounds good. You drive; I'm buying."

"Deal," he replies.

There's a pause, and then Roxanne sighs and presses both hands to her face. "God," she mumbles into her palms. "Fuck. I'm so stupid."

"That is manifestly untrue."

"All the signs were there," she says, dropping her hands to her lap. "Not all at once, maybe, but—I should have known. I should have known."

"How long have you worked with him?" Megamind asks.

Roxanne frowns. "Going on…six years? Seven? Why?"

Megamind shrugs. "You've known him a long time. And you called him all bark and no bite, before. It sounded like he never actually gave any indication he would try to attack you."

She's quiet for a while, thinking. Finally she sighs. "No. Not really. I mean…yeah, he's weird, but…it never felt like an unsafe weird? I always felt okay getting into the news van with him." She swallows hard. "He was…he just seemed persistent, you know? It was annoying, but he kept saying he was just being nice, and…I guess I got used to it." She frowns. It's amazing how much can become business as usual. "And he was nice enough, I guess, until recently," she adds. "And I was thinking, the other night—I never did tell him 'no' in a way he couldn't work his way around. Again, until recently.

"And I guess that was it, huh?" She shakes her head. "He couldn't tell himself he would win if he just kept at it, anymore. So he stopped being nice and he got dangerous."

"Something like that," Megamind says. "He got angry, first. He seems to have fallen into some questionable communities online—I think the term is 'incel?'—oh, I have his web history," he says, in response to Roxanne's questioning stare. "After we spoke last time, I got curious. Started digging. Had the bots formulate an algorithm to pull anything of interest relating to you, and then women in general. I won't regale you with the details; you can look up some of his public posts on Reddit later if you want. His handle is Hal0ver9000."

Roxanne snorts. "Of course it is," she murmurs.

"One of his friends on XBox Live recommended the particular subreddit, some other forum spaces, introduced him to some other users. New friends. If he wasn't radicalized before, he is now." He glances over at her as he pulls into the Waffle House parking lot. "I'm sorry. I was planning to give you a heads-up on Tues—um. The next time Minion and I kidnap you."

"Thanks." She sighs. "It's not your fault. I should have listened to my gut ages ago when I wondered if what he was doing was creepy."

Megamind shrugs gently. "You tend to focus on the best in people," he says. He puts the car in park. "Something I've noticed over the years."

He isn't entirely mistaken. Roxanne prefers to focus on the good, overall. Acknowledge the bad when it arises, but assume the best. People try to be good, generally, according to what they think is right.

It's just that sometimes, what they think is "right" is that they're entitled to another person's time and attention and sexual favors.

God.

But. It's okay. It's okay, now; she's okay. She had her pepper spray with her the whole time and she was not about to go with Hal to his apartment. She's a fast runner. Even if Megamind hadn't shown up, she would have been okay. Probably. Maybe.

"I am," she says, holding the door of the restaurant open so Megamind can go inside, "so glad you turned up when you did. I'm glad you stopped." Then she cocks her head at him and says, before he can respond, "I didn't know you smoke."

Megamind sends her a little grin over his shoulder as he heads for one of the booths. The restaurant isn't deserted, but it's fairly empty, and only a couple of the patrons look surprised to see him. "I don't, anymore," he says. "But it's a useful excuse to conspicuously hang around outside the invisible car."

Roxanne blinks, then slides into the booth across from him. "I see," she says, sending him a smile and just barely managing to stop herself from thanking him. "Well. I appreciate it."

Their server swings by the table and Megamind orders his "usual," which pretty much tells Roxanne why none of the staff even blinked when he walked in.

"You gonna be okay, baby?" Their server grins at him. Her name tag says Grace. "You're in your gear. Is Big-and-Tall gonna show up with a chip on his shoulder?"

Megamind chuckles. "It's Monday," he says. "He's pretty quiet on Mondays. I'll be okay. Besides, I've got a chaperone," nodding at Roxanne, who flushes.

"Well, just take it outside if you have to," Grace says, still grinning, and turns to Roxanne as Megamind rolls his eyes. "And what'll you have, gorgeous?"

"Oh—um, two eggs over easy with bacon and a double hashbrowns, smothered, covered, and peppered. And water."

"You got it," says Grace, and clicks her pen and heads for the counter.

Roxanne heaves a sigh and leans her cheek against her palm, her elbow braced on the table. She is suddenly ravenous, and somehow also suddenly exhausted.

"Why do I want to sleep," she mumbles.

"Post-adrenaline crash," Megamind replies. "Also it is past your bedtime, Miss Ritchi."

Roxanne glares up at him without actually moving her head. "I don't have a bedtime."

"Well, no wonder you're so cranky all the time," Megamind says, cocking an eyebrow at her, lips twitching. "That explains it."

"I'm cranky because I keep getting kidnapped," Roxanne says, but she's too tired to put much acid into it. She sighs again and sits up, stretches until her back pops. "Ahh. So, you said Tuesday? Kidnapping tomorrow?"

Megamind suddenly looks shifty. "Maybe."

"Just don't nab me before I have a chance to talk to Carl, okay? I don't think it'll take too long, but…" She trails off. Requesting that Megamind not kidnap her at certain times does not typically end well; he usually gets stiff and upset and whines about evil not bowing to other people's convenience.

But he nods. "Sounds…good. That sounds good. Um. Elevenish? Yes?"

Wow. She wasn't expecting him to agree at all, let alone give her an ETK. "Yeah, elevenish is perfect."

Megamind nods again.

Roxanne looks out the window. "I don't even know what I'm expecting Carl to do," she admits. "I haven't exactly gone to HR before about this. I thought about it, a couple times, but nothing ever seemed…worth it."

Megamind frowns at her. "Your discomfort is worth it," he says. Roxanne glances at him. "Your discomfort is always worth it."

She sighs. "Thanks. I just…"

"Don't talk yourself out of this," Megamind warns, and Roxanne blinks over at him, startled. "When did you think of it, before? What happened? Come on," Megamind says, sitting up a little and tapping himself on the chest with his fingertips. "Talk to me. Vent. Who am I going to tell?" He spreads his hands.

Roxanne smiles a little. "I guess I do kind of talk myself out of things, huh?"

"Goes along with seeing the best in people, I think," Megamind says. "I hope—oh." He blinks once, then leans back in his seat, his expression flattening. "I hope this isn't—with me, um—you aren't—talking yourself out of, of seeking a restraining order, or something."

She stares at him. "What? No! No, you're fine, I'm not…I don't have to do that, with you. Rationalize you to myself? I guess?" She wrinkles her nose. "I guess that's what I've been doing with Hal, all these years. But you're fine. I would say something, if you weren't."

"You complain," Megamind says, still with that flat expression. "When I kidnap you. You complain. You do say something."

Roxanne shakes her head. "Not like that. Megamind, Hal always gets pissy and annoying when I get sharp. But you don't—" She cuts herself off, realization dawning. "Oh. Huh. You don't…punish me for yelling at you. For asserting myself." She frowns. "I…huh. Hal never really was all that nice, was he?" He just wanted her to think he was. And she fell for it.

Slowly, Megamind's face relaxes. He breathes. "I imagine 'nice' is his word, not yours," he says.

Roxanne frowns. Yeah. Yeah, actually—she would get annoyed, he would insist he was just being nice, and she would back off. Or he would say something strange, and Roxanne would look at him, and he would get upset and self-deprecating, and she would shake her head and brush it off or reassure him. 

Megamind must have been watching her expression change, because he offers, "If you say something enough times, people start to think it's true." And, yeah, that about covers it. Roxanne chuckles in spite of herself.

"You sound like my sister." 

"So," he says, after a few seconds. "Talk to me. Get it all out there. What will you say to Carl?"

Roxanne bites her lip. "Yeah," she murmurs. "Yeah, okay. So—"

She doesn't mean to go on for as long as she thinks she does, but it's hard to stop talking once she's started. She tells Megamind about the patterns of behavior, as well as his constantly trying to pay for her lunch and his insisting on being allowed to hold the door for her every single time, even if she got there ahead of him. His asking her out at least once a month even when she was 'dating' Wayne and literally every Friday since they 'broke up.' She explains about all the 'soft no's she gave him—everything under the sun, everything she could think of to say without flat-out lying to him.

"Why not lie?" Megamind asks, when she says this. Roxanne shakes her head. She probably should have; there really was a lot, looking back on everything at once like this.

"I think…I think because if I needed to lie…then it was a real problem. And." She pauses. "Like you said, I've worked with him for ages. He was always just…weird. Awkward. Weird and awkward isn't a crime."

"Repeatedly coming onto you despite constant deflections sounds a little more than just awkward, to me." Megamind grimaces. "Granted, I am not exactly Mister Social Guru, so, grain of sand and all that, but it does seem to point to a deeper problem than just 'weird and awkward.'"

Roxanne smiles a little. "You keep saying you don't understand social stuff," she says. "You've been pretty solid, so far."

He looks down at his plate, scooching the remains of his waffle and scrambled eggs around with his fork. "I used to spend a lot of time," he finally says, "thinking about…good and bad. In general, and as it applies to villainy. There are a lot of ways to do this job; I needed to know what kind of evil I wanted to be. If I was going to be bad, then I was going to be the best at bad." He sighs. "But I needed to have standards. All the best villains have standards. A moral code. Rules. Some of which require me to keep abreast of various social mores and norms and…well. Suffeece to say, I have done a lot of research."

Roxanne studies him for a moment. She's known Megamind longer than she's known Hal; she realized years ago that he has standards and rules. He goes out of his way to limit his destruction to buildings that are mostly derelict, and on the rare occasion that they're occupied, they usually have some kind of fire alarm go off a few minutes before Megamind shows up. And even the tenants who didn't think they had insurance find out they were insured.

But this is the first time he's mentioned ethics aloud. This is the first indication she's had that they were calculated, in the beginning.

Megamind presses his lips together. "I have problems with authority," he says, unbidden. "I have problems with, with broken systems that would be easy to fix if the people in charge of fixing them would stop sitting on their laurels and work together and do something." His lip curls. "So I make their lives difficult. Maybe it's petty, but I am," he lets out a short, oddly bitter laugh, "very good at being difficult.

"Still," he says, before Roxanne can respond to that, "I do try not to…do things to people that I wouldn't be okay with or haven't personally experienced. Usually. So." He shrugs sharply, then looks up and aims a long finger at her, his pointed face set in a glare. "And if any of that winds up on the news," he says, "we are going to have a major problem."

Roxanne scowls. "Put that away or I'll make you eat it," she snaps, swatting his hand to the side and glaring right back at him. "We're off the record. I thought that went without saying. Don't threaten me; I don't need that from you. And you don't need to pull that with me."

He blinks, nods, drops his hand. He has the grace to look somewhat shamefaced.

"Can I ask, though," Roxanne says, because she can't let that thing about difficult go even if she is annoyed with him, "you said, you were going to be the best at bad? You used to spend a lot of time on this? Past tense?"

Megamind's green eyes flick to her. For a moment, he hesitates, but then he wipes his expression smooth and carefree again. "Well, I am the best at bad," he says, arching an eyebrow at her and smiling as he crosses his arms over his chest. "I made it. Obviously."

She bites her lip, remembering how he winced when he stretched, how he pressed a hand to his hip. Remembering a few conversations she's had with Wayne, over the years, when he had bad days and came in complaining he was getting sick of the whole thing, complaining that Megamind wouldn't just stay down. "Have you ever thought about retirement? At all?" Megamind blinks at her, his smile sort of freezing, and she shrugs. "You made it," she tells him. "Like you said. You walk into a bank and everybody just lies down on the floor. You could do anything you wanted, now; no one would stop you."

"Can't destroy Metro Man," he says breezily. "Still working on that one."

Roxanne hesitates, then sends him a slow smile. "Okay…but we both know that's not quite true, though."

Megamind frowns at her, then scowls. "What else is there, for me?" he says, and oh, she struck a nerve with that one; his voice is edged with warning. "Miss Ritchi, I'm a supervillain. I'm not even human. This—this, whatever this is—" He gestures at her, waves around at the restaurant— "this is not real, do you understand that? It's a one-off. It doesn't last. Nice things never do. Retirement is not in the cards, for me."

Roxanne recoils, genuinely thrown. "It…what? Megamind, wait. Hold on." She slides her hand across the table towards him without thinking. "Just because nice things don't last, just because they don't stay the same—that doesn't mean they were never real."

"It might as well," he says flatly, glowering down at her hand as he crosses his arms again. "They fade, become inaccessible. They might as well have never happened. Better, even, if they never did—it wouldn't hurt so badly."

"Well, that's an incredibly bleak outlook on life," Roxanne says, taken aback and not bothering to hide it. "Good lord, Megamind."

He shrugs sharply. "Am I wrong?"

She's frowning, trying to get her head around this. "So, wait. Are you saying…okay. We're having a nice time right now, right? Are you having a nice time?"

He nods.

"And you're saying that when this is over—you're saying that tomorrow, when you look back on tonight, you're going to feel sad about it?"

Megamind hesitates, appears to wilt somewhat. "Not sad," he finally says. "Not…not sad. But…something like that, yes."

Roxanne studies him for a moment, stunned. "But you're still here," she says slowly. "You're still…you still offered to do this, for me. Knowing it would make you sad tomorrow."

Megamind shrugs again. "What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment. And I—" He cuts himself off, flushing.

"What?" Roxanne asks.

He's quiet.

"Megamind, what?"

He presses his lips together, rounds his shoulders, looks away. "And I like seeing you," he says, flatly, and very quickly. "It is. Nice. To see you. Talk to you, without being yelled at for kidnapping you. I, I thought—talking like we did in your apartment—with Derya—on Friday—I thought this would be like that. Maybe."

She blinks at him, startled, and then she sends him a smile. "Oh," she says, touched. "Well. I like talking to you, too. This is nice, I agree. I just wish it wouldn't make you sad."

Megamind relaxes slightly, appears to make some kind of effort to lower his guard a little. "I'm not sad. I'm…it is…hard. For me. To remember good things, and not feel…melohncholy, I suppose."

"Huh." Roxanne frowns down at her plate for a moment and doesn't say anything about his botched pronunciation. "That's a shame."

"Can this happen again?" he asks suddenly, and Roxanne looks up. "Not—not Waffle House, specifically. Just. Talking? With you, outside of a kidnapping plot. Can there be a third time?"

"Sure," she says, surprised, and he perks up, blinking. "Yeah, of course. We could text; do you have a phone?"

He wilts a little. "I do not."

"Oh. Well…" Roxanne bites her lip, then makes a decision and fishes in her purse for a second until she finds a pen. She pulls a fresh napkin out of the holder by the window and writes her name and cell phone number, and TEXT ME! :) underneath, and then she slides it over to Megamind. "You should get one! And then you should text me. Or call me."

He blinks down at the fragile paper. Slowly unfolds his arms. "I already know your phone number," he says, confusion obvious in his voice.

Roxanne winks at him. "Yes, but now you know it because I want you to know it," she tells him, and Megamind's face goes startled and then very pink.

"Ah," he says, "I see," and he folds the napkin in quarters and tucks it carefully into the top of his glove, near his shoulder. Roxanne is pretty sure he's hiding a smile—his eyes are soft again—but she doesn't call him on it.

It's almost one in the morning by the time the invisible car rumbles into the alley behind Roxanne's apartment building. Roxanne sighs and unbuckles her belt. "I appreciate your help tonight," she tells Megamind again. "And this was fun. Waffle House was a good plan. And see?" she adds, grinning at him in the glow of the car's dashboard. "It didn't end in failure! Chalk this one up as a win, huh?"

Megamind's lips twitch. "Good night, Miss Ritchi," he says. "And—um."

"What's up?"

He hesitates, brows netting together as he considers something. "I…would not ask. Ordinarily. But—when it comes to, ah, to putting the fear of death into your cameraman—"

Roxanne shakes her head. "Just leave it," she says, and Megamind scowls. "You've helped more than enough. I want to try and put this through the proper channels first; I'll let you know if I need anything else. He's not worth your time."

"No, he isn't," Megamind agrees, "but you are. So."

Roxanne smiles at him. Reaches over and squeezes his shoulder. "You're sweet." She turns and starts to push her door open—and then she pauses and turns back. "I don't suppose you can walk me to my door," she says. Megamind shakes his head.

"I'm working on something that might allow me to do that," he says, "but it isn't finished. I'm still figuring out how to get it to work with my—ah, other thing. A, a different thing. That I wear."

She cocks her head. "Take off the different thing?" she suggests, but Megamind huffs a laugh and shakes his head, looks away.

"That isn't a good idea," he says quietly. "It's fine. I'll figure it out eventually. Will you be okay on your own?"

Roxanne hesitates. Hal knows where she lives and he was pissed, tonight, and apparently he went to pretty extreme lengths to set up several ways to get her alone. And her doorman is good, but—but Hal is an expert at seeming bumbling and unassuming; he likely wouldn't register as a threat—and Roxanne isn't the only one who know how to find her way into restricted areas in unexpected ways, it's part of the job—

—is she being paranoid? She's probably just being paranoid. She's…it's fine. She'll be fine.

"Yeah," she says, despite the anxiety clawing at her. "I'll be okay."

Megamind frowns at her. "You're doing it again," he accuses. "Talking yourself out of something."

"I'll probably be okay," she amends. "I'm just…nervous."

Megamind pauses for a moment, then turns and gets out of the car without saying anything. Mystified, Roxanne follows.

He opens the trunk, pulls out some kind of massive metal contraption with what look like funnels coming off of the sides and bottom, and something like shoulder straps in front. He shrugs this onto his back, clenching his teeth and leaning on the bumper of the invisible car while he fastens it in front of him. "Jet pack," he says, in response to Roxanne's questioning glance. "I'll take you in through the balcony."

You're a good man, Roxanne wants to say, but she's pretty sure Megamind won't react well to that. So she just walks to him, instead, and wraps her arms around his shoulders as he picks her up. He sort of twitches, but he doesn't actually say anything.

This is not the first time Megamind has held her like this while she's conscious—one arm under her legs, the other around her back—but it is rare for him to do so, and this is the first time Roxanne has been able to hold on. His shoulders are as cold through his spandex and leather as his hands are. Is he just naturally cooler, she wonders, and has to resist the urge to lean her head against his shoulder.

"I can't believe you're holding both me and this massive thing," she says as he steps away from the car to take the pack out of idling and fire up the thrusters.

"Yes, my back won't be happy with me, tomorrow," Megamind says tightly, and they lift off. "But oh, well."

"You didn't have to," Roxanne tries, but Megamind just shoots her a Look.

"I told you," he says, zipping up the side of her building and around to the front. "Your discomfort is worth it. Worth at least asking for accommodation."

"Still," Roxanne says, as they clear her balcony railing and Megamind lowers her carefully to her feet on the tile, "you shouldn't hurt yourself on my account."

Megamind snorts. "I have hurt myself for far sillier things than this," he says. "Don't worry about it."

As if she isn't supposed to feel some kind of worry about that. But it's not the time, Roxanne knows. She reaches out and grips his gloved hand, squeezes it. His hand feels…different from what she was expecting, but she squeezes anyway, and smiles up at him.

"See you tomorrow," she says. He blinks.

"Yes," Megamind agrees. "Yes, I…I suppose you will."

Roxanne squeezes again, then drops his hand and lets herself into her apartment as the roar of the jet pack fades away in the direction of the invisible car.

Chapter Text

"Well, HR won't give me details, but I asked when I got in this morning if there was a history," Carl says, when Roxanne finishes explaining what happened the evening prior. He leans his elbows on his desk, frowning. "They said there's a pretty well-documented one—both your reports and some from other people. Apparently you've been having trouble with Hal for years. Roxanne, why didn't you say anything?"

She blinks, startled. What? She's—but she's never gone to HR.

"None of it was actionable," she says, covering her confusion. "Not really. Not like this. This was…" She trails off, swallows. "I honestly think he was planning to assault me. Maybe kill me, I don't know—he certainly took us to a remote enough part of town."

Carl shakes his head. "Well. I can't promise anything, but I can tell you that I won't have you working with him going forward. You'll be at your desk for now while we see who we can shuffle around as a replacement—you may have to spend some time splitting work with a different team. Becky is out on maternity beginning next week; we may have you cover some of her column."

"That's okay," Roxanne agrees, relief rinsing through her. "That's fine. Thanks, Carl."

She goes back to her desk with her mind in a whirl. HR has a history? From her? Of Hal? But she's never filed a report with them, or anything. She's sure she never did. The only person she's really talked to about any of this recently was Megamind, last night, and—

—oh.

She smiles a little, shakes her head. "Some villain you are," she murmurs, grinning as she boots up her computer. "You're evil and I'm the president of Mongolia."

Rosemary Ritchi works at Magnolia Acres Retirement Community as one of the rotational daily nurses there. A month or so after Megamind meets Derya for the first time, Rose is packing away her things after a wellness check when Mrs. Watts exclaims "Oh, look, it's the weekly special," and points with a shaky, arthritic hand at the television in the corner of her room, where Megamind is broadcasting.

Oh, goodie.

The kidnapping chair is present, bolted to the floor of some absurd, serrated contraption, but it's empty. Well, this won't be the first time Megamind has needed to get a time-sensitive plot rolling ahead of time, and it probably won't be the last, but Rose's stomach still rolls over, because it's Friday again, and today, currently, Roxanne is—

This will be interesting, she thinks distantly.

"Sir," says Minion's voice from offscreen, just before he clanks into view with Roxanne thrown over his shoulder, "we have a small problem."

"Oh no, a problem arises mid-challenge, that's new," Megamind sighs, turning around. "What is it this—oh." He freezes. Stares. "Minion," he says quietly, "is that what I think it is?"

"A baby carrier, Sir. Yes."

Megamind pops to his feet, his panicky voice rocketing up an octave. "You stole a baby?"

"She was babysitting!" Minion protests. "I couldn't just leave the kid alone, could I? Human babies are fragile!"

In the retirement home, Rose stands with her heart in her mouth, transfixed and terrified.

"Yes! They are fragile! And Minion—Minion, everything we own is covered in spikes!" Megamind waves both his hands around at Evil Lair in general, then groans and drags his palms and fingers down his face.

The microphones pick up the sound of a baby fussing somewhere in the room, and Megamind swallows. And then he sighs, and groans again, and quickly unbuckles his gloves so he can pull them off. "Please tell me you at least grabbed the diaper bag with all her things," he says flatly, and Minion nods.

"It's in the car. I'll go and get it."

"Good. Put Miss Ritchi down…um…oh, just go and drop her on the sofa, this scheme is a bust anyway.

"Good people of Metrocity!" he adds, shouting for the microphones as he yanks off his shoulder array and cape and tosses them onto his chair with his gloves so that he can bend briefly out of frame and retrieve Derya from her carrier. "Good people of Metrocity! Rejoice, for you have been granted a reprieve! For I have—unintentionally! and through no fault of my own!—acquired a baby! Which I will definitely give back as soon as possible."

In his arms, Derya burbles and pushes herself up against his chest with one hand, then bats inexpertly at his face with the other. "Yes, yes, I know," Megamind says, distracted, leaning down so she can try to grab his beard. "Yes, I know, I'm very handsome. And who's a little cutie? You are! Yes you are! Kunik, nose-kiss! Do you want to go visit the alligators? Shall we see the big chomp-chomps? From a safe and responsible distance!" he adds, glaring up at the camera and unconsciously curling his fingers over the back of Derya's head. "Minion, kill the broadcast, I'm only making a fool of myself at this point. Yes, you're so cute! Why are you wearing a hairband? Wherefore the hairband, when all you have up there is curly fuzz?" He pauses, apparently listening intently as Derya gurgles and gums her fist. "Oh, is that why. Oh? Oh, I see. I see. Yes.

"Okay, corazón, vámonos. Minion, is—wha—are we still rolling? Minion! Seriously, cut! Cut! Oh, for—do everything myself—" He rolls his eyes and trots offscreen, still chatting at the infant in his arms, and the broadcast cuts out, flickers back to two extremely frazzled-looking news anchors.

Rose massages her temples, relief making her knees weak. At least the plot is off for today. At least Megamind seems protective. "God, give me strength," she murmurs.

Far away, in Evil Lair, Roxanne blinks her eyes open. There's no bag over her head. And she's horizontal, that's new. And—

"Derya," she gasps, sitting up so quickly her head spins. "Derya? Where's—"

"It's okay!" Minion hurries forward, waving his big hands at her. "It's okay. She's okay. We're not doing a scheme today, Sir called it off."

Roxanne blinks, trying to parse this. Megamind's kidnapping spray wears off incredibly quickly once she regains consciousness, but—he called it off? He—

"Well, we couldn't battle Metro Man with a baby on hand, could we?" Minion says, laughing nervously.

"You brought her with you," Roxanne says, sagging with relief. "Oh. Oh good."

Minion recoils. "I couldn't just leave her alone," he says. "That's not good for babies."

"Okay," Roxanne says. She swallows. And then her worry rises again, and with it comes anger, and she looks up. "Untie me."

Minion hesitates.

"Minion, you untie me right this instant and take me to my niece," Roxanne snaps. "I cannot believe this. I cannot believe you would see a baby and kidnap me anyway! How dare you? Minion, I really expected better from you!"

Minion bites his lip and bends down to cut through Roxanne's bindings. "I didn't see her until you were already out," he says, apologetic. "And then I didn't know what to do. I couldn't leave you there unconscious, that's the same as leaving her unattended."

"What you should do is wait with me until I wake back up again," Roxanne seethes, getting to her feet and shaking her arms out. "Not steal my niece."

Minion winces. "Yes," he says. "Okay. I'm…I'm sorry."

Roxanne glares at him, then turns away. "Where is she."

"Um…right this way."

He leads her up staircases and down hallways until they reach some kind of rooftop observation deck with a massive telescope bolted to it, where he holds the door open for Roxanne. She walks out onto the roof and then—pauses.

Megamind is facing away from them, sitting on a folding chair next to a blanket, which is spread out on the rooftop under a sort of shade awning held aloft by hovering brainbots. He's clutching a phone to his ear. Derya is sitting in the shade on the blanket in front of him, sucking on some kind of blue-green glowing thing as if it's a nook and playing with several floating, multicolored spheres of various sizes that bounce slowly and refuse to pop.

"—not giving her to you, I don't care if you do know where Rose works," Megamind hisses. Roxanne can't see his face, but the scowl in his voice is distinctive. "I've seen you with babies. You're a lawsuit waiting to happen.

"Yes, I know it's a mistake," he says. He reaches down and swirls a finger above the bubbles so they twirl up into a column in the air. Derya swipes at them. "Yes, obviously. But she's here now, and I'm not letting her out of my sight. Even for you. No, this is not part of my next evil plan! If you knew anything about babies you would know they are not toys! This is why she's staying with me. Just give me the phone number.

"No, I will not 'just get it out of Roxie's phone!' I do not have a death wish! …Okay. Okay. Fantastic, was that so hard.

"Oh, go drop yourself in a lake," he snaps. "Now stop distracting me. I have an infant human to entertain." He stabs the End Call button and slides down off his chair, shuffling something out of his lap and onto the seat of the chair as he moves. Roxanne squints. That looks like…is that his de-gun? It seems to be in several pieces.

"Okay, you," Megamind sighs, lowering himself onto his stomach with a groan and propping his chin on his fist. "You like these? Yes, so do I. And I should really thank you for alerting me to a potential purpose for them; I've been operating under the assumption that they were generally useless. I suppose they do have some casual entertainment value. Can you say, thermodynamic equilibrium?"

Derya gurgles at him and swats wildly at one of the semi-floating balls in the air.

Roxanne relaxes, relief swirling through her and staying this time. Her niece looks perfectly happy.

"Well, don't feel bad. Neither could I, at your age." Megamind ducks forward and clunks the side of his head gently against Derya's. "How's the binky? Do you like the binky? I'm going to need that back, you know. You can't keep it. Oh, well done!" Derya has just managed to hit one of the larger balls. "Good job! You hit it; I am very proud of you! What? What is it, what do you want?" He rolls onto his back and grins at Derya upside-down from the ground, and she crows and slaps both hands repeatedly on his forehead.

"Bah bab ba bah!" says Derya, dropping the glowing nook out of her mouth so it bounces off his head. He laughs.

Minion clears his throat. "Um," he says, and Roxanne jumps. "Sir? Miss Ritchi is awake."

"She's what? Oh! She's awake!" Megamind sits up, blinking and suddenly looking very worried. "Miss Ritchi!" he exclaims, apparently unaware of the line of baby drool on his forehead. "Um. This, ah, this isn't what it looks like?"

She sends him a very flat expression. "It looks like you're playing with a baby."

"…Okay! So, it is what it looks like. Um—I, I can explain—"

Roxanne sighs and shakes her head. "No need. Minion already covered it. So," she sighs, coming forward with Minion trailing behind her. "You wound up on babysitting duty, huh?"

"Yes!" Megamind exclaims, his eyebrows up and his big eyes full of sparkling, nervous enthusiasm. "Yes! And! I successfully changed a diaper, all by myself! And I definitely did not put the clean one on backwards and have to start over when I realized the teddy bears were not facing front."

Roxanne snorts in spite of herself. "You didn't, huh?"

"Absolutely not," Megamind says, eyeing her carefully and fidgeting as she sits down on the folding chair. She scoops the pieces of the de-gun into her lap. "I was perfect right from the go-get."

She sighs. "Okay," she murmurs. She slumps, puts her elbows on her knees. Okay. Everything is okay. Megamind called off the evil plot. Derya is okay.

Next to her, faintly, she hears the telltale bloops of a phone being dialed. And then Megamind says, very quickly, "Rose this is Megamind I have your baby and she's fine."

Rose's response is unintelligible, but Roxanne can hear from her tone that she isn't happy.

"No—no. No, this was not the plan, I didn't—we didn't realize—I see that, yes, you're—absolutely right. I. Apologize.

"Keep it from—oh! Um. I, I suppose we could—ah—keep a closer eye on Miss Ritchi's schedule? Going forward?

"Oh!" He sits up a little. "Oh. Every Friday? Ah! Jum'ah! I see. That does clear things up a bit. Um. Thank…s? Thanks?"

It's funny, watching him talk on the phone. He sounds more or less normal, if extremely stressed, but his expression is stuck in a kind of extended, flinching wince.

Roxanne clears her throat and holds out her hand for the phone. Megamind blinks, then says, "Oh, here," and passes it over without any kind of warning.

Roxanne sighs. "Hey, Rose, it's me."

"—and you—what? Annie? What?" Rose sounds extremely taken aback at the abrupt change in conversational partner.

"Yeah, sorry. You okay?"

Rose huffs a sigh into the receiver. "Yes, I'm okay. Still kind of shaky, but I'm okay. Is Derya really fine?"

Roxanne looks down at her niece. "She looks fine to me. She's slobbering on some kind of floaty ball. I assume those are non-toxic?" she adds, looking at Megamind, who sends her an affronted expression.

"Of course, what do you take me for?"

"Good. Anyway, yes, she appears to be having a grand old time."

"Can I talk to her?"

Roxanne blinks, but holds the phone down next to Derya's ear. Rose's voice says something.

"Bbbbbbb!" says Derya, turning and grabbing for the little rectangle, which Roxanne quickly pulls back out of range. Derya looks perplexed at this.

"No, sweetie, I wasn't offering it to you," Roxanne tells her. "See?" she says to Rose, as Megamind pulls Derya's attention back to the array of floating balls. "She's okay."

"Look," Megamind is saying, holding Derya's hands, showing her how to direct the balls. "If you move like this—like this—see—they move this way with the air flow. Do you see? Like this. Yes! Ye—oh, well, sort of. Sort of! Good job. Okay."

Roxanne snorts. "Well," she says, "I'll go ahead and get her home. You still coming to pick her up at six?"

"You'll have her home by then?"

"Yeah, we'll be heading out soon," Roxanne says, sending a stern stare at Megamind so he doesn't argue about keeping her. He grimaces again, his ears turning pink. "I'll text you when we get there so you know. Sorry about all this."

She wraps up the phone call and hands Megamind's phone back.

"So," she says. "You're going to pay a little bit closer attention to my schedule."

Megamind and Minion both nod.

"So you don't kidnap me while I'm babysitting again."

They nod.

She takes a deep breath. "And maybe you also don't kidnap me when I have an important meeting scheduled?" This has been a major gripe of hers, over the years, and it still pisses her off when she runs into it and has to reschedule something.

Slowly, they look at each other.

"I think," Minion says, after a moment, "I think…at this point. I think that's…reasonable? Sir?"

Megamind hesitates, then nods. "Yes. Yes, I think that is fair. As long as we're already checking your calendar, we might as well take…ah…additional considerations."

Roxanne exhales and does her best not to let her surprise show on her face. "Thank you."

Megamind scowls at her and opens his mouth, then jumps and looks down—Derya has just put both hands on his leg and is sort of bouncing herself on her arms. His face relaxes, his lips twitch. "Okay, mi vida," he says, "yes, yes, my attention, it's all yours."

She grabs the binky when he offers it to her. Shoves it in her mouth and gums it with enthusiasm.

"What is that thing?" Roxanne asks.

"It's my old binky," Megamind says. "From when I was small."

"Huh." She looks around. "And why is your gun in four pieces?"

"The binky is its power source." He glances up. "I sterilized it first, don't worry."

A pair of brainbots drift down and extend ventral tendrils like long, slender tentacles towards the baby. Roxanne stiffens, leans forward, but Megamind waves at her. "Wait, wait," he says. "I want to see how this goes."

At second glance, Roxanne realizes these brainbots must be new—these are a little more oblong than usual, their edges rounded. Their chasses are completely smooth, unadorned with the usual jagged fins and spikes the rest of the host festoons themselves with as their personalities develop. They do seem to have fins, but they're part of their glass braincases, which are spun up to have bubbly-smooth dorsal ridges like the sails of portuguese man o' wars. And—Roxanne leans forward, squints—yes, even their ventral surfaces are totally smooth; the metallic tendrils they're letting Derya pull on appear to be welded or soldered in place at the base rather than attached by potentially pinchy hinges. It's a nice solder job, too; the metal is pressed flush with either piece of the brainbot in gentle ripples. Each brainbot has six of these smooth metallic arms: three roughly a yard long, and three shorter ones spaced between them, with silicone grips along the lower halves of the long arms and all the way up the short ones.

"Those are new," she says.

"Hmm? Oh, yes." Megamind nods, turning his head towards her a little without taking his eyes off the baby and the brainbots. "Yes, the twins. Deimos and Phobos. They're for your sister. Well, and Derya."

Roxanne blinks. He—

Holy smokes, he actually built Rose a brainbot? Two brainbots? And judging from how careful they're being, he programmed them to be child-safe. A few years ago, Roxanne would have been nervous about allowing any kind of AI near a baby, regardless of programming, but she knows at this point that Megamind's little drones can be trusted. These two don't have sharp jaws for biting, and they don't make the usual bowging sound. Instead, they emit soft, crooning hums, and musical whirrs and clicks.

"They're beautiful," she says, entirely honestly. "They—are these cyborgs, too? They look—"

"Their neural base is a combination of octopus and pigeon," Megamind says. "Yes."

"Octopus," Roxanne echoes, startled. "Where on earth did you get an octopus brain?"

Megamind flushes. "I…several years ago, Minion and I tried to keep one. We hoped—well, linguistically, we were hoping it would be a learning experience. And it was! But they're…extremely sensitive creatures."

"It died?"

Megamind nods. "I—um. Minion. Felt awful. So I kept it on ice. Waste not, you know? I was saving it for, um, a special occasion, and there wound up being enough viable tissue for two neuromorphic motherboards, so…

"I don't know why I'm telling you this," he adds, sitting up suddenly and then slowly getting to his feet, frowning down at the baby. "You should get her home, Miss Ritchi. The twins will go with you; they've already bonded quite strongly to Derya. I was hopeful that they would."

Blinking, Roxanne rises. He's not wrong, she really should be going, but she still feels vaguely hurt at being dismissed so abruptly. "Yes," she says. "I suppose you're right."

One of the twins—Deimos, Roxanne is pretty sure—gently takes the binky away from Derya while Phobos hovers close and offers a nook. Derya frowns and makes a grab for the glowing binky, and Roxanne picks her up. Phobos rises with her, still proffering the nook.

Megamind presses his lips together. "I did tell you," he says, taking the binky from Deimos and drying it off on the corner of his cape. "I did tell you, you can't keep it. I need this back. You need to take your nook. That's it, that's good! Yes, that's your nook." He gathers up the pieces of his de-gun and swiftly reassembles it. Lord knows where he was hiding the tiny screwdriver; Roxanne is sure he wasn't holding it a minute ago.

He extends his arm and tilts his head, sights down the length of the gun, then straightens and holsters it at his thigh. "Well," he says, brusque. The twins are gathering up Derya's things, packing them away in the diaper bag. "This was fun. Let's not do it again."

Roxanne nods. "Sounds good. And hey—" She turns, bumps her elbow against his arm. "Text me, okay? Seriously! I don't have your phone number! I can't reach out first."

Megamind nods.

Roxanne hesitates, suddenly glad she's holding Derya because she can't give in to the absurd urge to pull him into a friendly hug. "I would like to hear from you," she offers, feeling weirdly embarrassed about admitting it, but Megamind just smiles tightly and ushers them both inside.

"It's my fault," Minion says as he fires up the invisible car. "I'm sorry, Miss Ritchi. I panicked."

She sighs. "It's okay. I'm sorry I yelled at you," she tells him. "I was worried. But I shouldn't have snapped like that; you told me she was fine and there was no evil plot involved today." She sends him a smile in the rearview mirror. "At least you saw her! And you did bring her with you. After just sitting with us at my apartment, that was the second-most correct move you could have made."

He nods, and Roxanne closes her eyes so she doesn't see where they are in town as they leave Evil Lair.

"Really," she says, after a while. "You did good."

"I don't know if I'd say it was good," Minion says. "Not as bad as it could have been, I suppose."

"Still. I'm…" She trails off, bites her lip. "Minion, is it weird if I say I'm proud of you?"

There's a pause. Finally Minion says, sounding very taken aback, "Well, I—maybe? Sort of? Why on earth are you proud of me?"

"It's just, you and Megamind always say you're terrible and evil and socially inept, but when it really counts…you guys pretty reliably do the right thing. Or a right thing, at least. You, even more than him." She shrugs. "It's not always a…well, a normal right thing, but it works."

Someone honks, and she opens her eyes. The city is going past outside. They appear to be heading away from the harbor, but that's not surprising; Roxanne has known Evil Lair was tucked away somewhere in those storage units and warehouses and manufacturing facilities for years.

"It's just," she says, when Minion doesn't say anything. "We were talking at Waffle House, a couple weeks ago. He mentioned thinking about what kind of evil he wanted to be, back in the beginning, and…I mean, I know you both have standards, but it was the first time he acknowledged that they were intentional."

"When did you go to Waffle House?" Minion asks, his startled gaze flicking to her in the mirror. She pauses.

"Sorry, I—thought he would have said," she says slowly. "Um. Yeah, he…I ran into some trouble with Hal, and Megamind helped me out. And I was pretty shaken up and I hadn't eaten all day, so he took me to Waffle House."

Minion makes a pained noise. "Ohhh I told him he should have emailed you about that man," he frets. "I told him! Are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Roxanne assures him. She has to wonder why Megamind wouldn't fill Minion in on that evening, but she's touched that Minion would be so concerned. "Don't worry. I'd rather not go into details, but I'm not working with Hal anymore."

"Is he still with KMCP?"

"Unfortunately." She sighs. "My boss can keep him away from me, but he doesn't have the authority to actually fire someone in another department."

"Hmmm," Minion says, but that's all. "And—work is good, otherwise? Is it better now that he's away from you?"

"It's better," she confirms. "I don't dread going to work, now, which is nice. I didn't even realize that was mostly Hal's doing. And he's easy enough to avoid in the lunchroom. Usually." She pauses, then admits, "The daily grind still does feel like a grind, though. I miss finding stories, not just covering them. They keep telling me I'm lucky to still be in front of a camera at all, at my age, but honestly, Minion, between you and me? I could take it or leave it."

"Start with Hal's boss," Minion suggests. "He doesn't want to fire a known creep. Maybe there's a reason."

Roxanne snorts. "Who, Trey? There's no story there. Trey's one of Hal's friends, I think that's how he got the job at KMCP in the first place."

"Hmmm," Minion says again.

"What are you thinking?" Roxanne asks, as Minion pulls into the alley behind her building.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing important," Minion says lightly. "You have a good rest of your day, Miss Ritchi. I hope work gets more interesting for you, soon."

Hal is fired three days later. A very tearful, very loud woman at a very public photoshoot screams, and then screams at him, sobbing and insisting that he grabbed her and how dare he and what's his name, who is his boss, she wants to talk to his manager. Hal is caught on camera shouting back at her, telling her she has a face like a truck and he doesn't go for mannish fat chicks.

What a nice guy.

Roxanne watches the video with her hand clamped over her mouth so she doesn't accidentally laugh, but it's a struggle. The woman in the video is tall and built like a linebacker, with curly blonde hair and a lovely purple dress with white polka dots, and she is definitely, unquestionably, without a doubt, Minion. With that underbite? And this timing? There's nobody else she can be.

Besides, Roxanne knows that when Minion says hmmm in a certain tone of voice, things tend to happen pretty quickly. And Megamind did say he was 'working on something' that would allow him to walk Roxanne up to her apartment. He must have been referring to a disguise of some kind. Roxanne has to hand it to him: it really is one hell of a disguise.

Man. She should have complained to Minion about Hal years ago.

She gets home from work that night in the best mood she's had in months. Hal is gone, Roxanne has good friends, and to top it all off, she received a text that afternoon from an unknown number that simply said, "is he gone or do we need to escalate? :) " and really, three guesses as to who that was.

He's gone, she sent back, grinning. Apparently 'someone' sent that video to one of the VPs w/ subject line 'what kind of circus are you running and who is this clown' in all caps

oh wow. you don't say. I wonder who could have done that.

A mystery for sure ;)

He was quiet for a while, and then Roxanne's phone lit up again.

just kidding it was us

Now she sighs, leaning on the low wall that runs around the outside of her balcony, resting her weight on her forearms on the tarnished brass rail set into the top of it as she gazes into the sunset.

Can there be a third time? he asked, back at the restaurant, weeks ago.

She bites her lip. Megamind may have trouble thinking back on good times without feeling melancholy, but melancholy is better than sad, right?

Roxanne wants to give him a third time. Him and Minion both, if possible—a good memory, something they can hold onto against the darkness she's beginning to recognize clouds Megamind's mega-mind sometimes. But what can she do? For as long as she's been involved with the man, she's only just beginning to really get to know him. There's still a lot she doesn't know.

Well, but she knows a little. She knows about his strange supplementary diet of sugar and poison.

She pinches her lips together. Minion mentioned cyanide, specifically; lima beans and almonds are one thing, but Roxanne is not sure she wants to know the details of how Megamind learned hydrogen cyanide is something he can safely ingest. But the more she does get to know Megamind, the more certain she is that she can probably guess. It makes her heart ache.

She shakes herself. Okay, no. Focus. What does she know about Megamind? She knows what he's like, and she knows his diet, a little about his morals, his standards…she knows he spends a lot of time in the water; he as good as told her that. He said he spent most of his first eight days in water, and she knows he kept an octopus, and she knows Minion is definitely fully aquatic. And Megamind is built like a swimmer: wide shoulders for his skinny frame, and extremely narrow hips.

And—

She stands up as a thought occurs. She knows about those creatures on his homeworld. The little floating glowing things. Points of light, he said. And she thinks—

Oooh, hey. I can work with that.

Now, there's an idea. And Roxanne isn't sure, can't be sure, but it feels like a good idea and she wants to do it. She—

Should she wait? Ask?

No. If she waits, she'll just talk herself into hanging back. This is too personal, too—not intimate, but—too important. She can already feel herself hesitating.

Roxanne is done hesitating. No way is she talking herself out of this.

She goes inside and gets her phone out of her purse before she can second-guess herself again, then calls Jo, her coworker and friend. The call goes to voicemail, but that's okay.

"Hey, Jo, it's Roxie," says Roxanne, sitting down on the edge of her sofa. She's already starting to form part of a plan. "I'm going to need to borrow your car…"

Chapter Text

Roxanne's next big hurdle is trying to figure out how to phrase this to Megamind. I want to take you somewhere for a surprise is not likely to be met positively, Roxanne knows; Megamind's reaction to her surprise with her sister and Derya has made her rather painfully aware of his fears.

She does still want to surprise him with this. But…maybe if the surprise wasn't the only thing planned? Maybe if it was part of a larger plan?

(Is this how Megamind feels when he plans, Roxanne wonders, feeling a tingle of excitement.)

She does some research, makes a couple more phone calls, takes some notes, then phones her sister. She doesn't have a whole lot of time to put this together; the next kidnapping is going to be soon, she's pretty sure.

"Hey," she says, when Rose answers. "Hey, I have a proposition for you. What are your feelings on an evening outside of town? There's a state park an hour or so outside of Metro and I want to bring Megamind, but I need an excuse."

Rose laughs. "Wait, what? You want to bring your villain to a park? Why?"

"It's a surprise for him," Roxanne says. "See, he told me about these things on his planet…" She explains to her sister about the little creatures Megamind mentioned the time he came to help watch Derya, the little glowing things that floated up from the beach when he was a few days old. "And I thought," she finishes, "it's the season for fireflies, you know? I thought…what do you think?"

"Aw," says Rose, sounding startled. "Aw! I love that! Yeah, I think that's a great idea, let's do it! I can bring our camp stove; maybe we could have dinner out there while the sun goes down?"

"That sounds perfect," Roxanne exclaims, glad to have her sister on board. "Yeah, dinner sounds wonderful! The last time we went camping, you made those, um…oh, the roasted tomatoes and butter chicken? Could we do that? And I can do some grilled pineapple and peaches," remembering what Minion said about fruit.

"Oh, sure," Rose says. "Yeah, those are super easy. And we'll need something green…could you also bring some kind of salad? I like the one you do with the kale and the walnuts and apples."

"Can do, no problem." Roxanne smiles and flops back on her sofa. "I'll look for baby-safe bug spray while I'm out shopping this weekend—it's still early enough in the year that we shouldn't see too many mosquitoes, but better safe than sorry." Rose hums agreement. "Oh, and there's a lake with a little beach," Roxanne adds. "If it's warm enough, maybe we could go swimming?"

"Ooo, yes! And if it's not warm enough for swimming, a fire on the beach would still be nice."

"Yeah," says Roxanne. "Yeah, it would. When do you think? Next weekend?"

"Sure," Rose says. "Yeah, we have no plans then. Aaaand…okay, google says the weather is supposed to be good that Saturday; you want to do it then? Meet at the park around two PM?"

"That sounds perfect," Roxanne says, gratitude in her voice. "Thanks, Rose."

"Hey, thank you! It's been a while since we went anywhere just for fun. This will be really nice."

"Yeah," Roxanne agrees, smiling. "Yeah, I think it will."

"I need to talk to you guys about next weekend," Roxanne says, when Minion pulls the bag off her head. Megamind, standing with his hand over the button to start their broadcast, glances up at Minion, then frowns at Roxanne.

"This plan is somewhat time-sensitive," he says. "Can it wait?"

"Oh, um—it's just—my sister and Salim and I are all going out to a park the Saturday after this one," Roxanne says quickly. "It's the first time Derya's been out of the city. I thought I'd see if you and Minion wanted to come along?"

Megamind jerks his head back, blinking at her.

"If we wanted to come, Miss Ritchi?" Minion asks, sounding confused.

"Yeah," Roxanne says, thinking quickly. "Yeah, I'm—I have my own ride, I'm borrowing my friend's car, so there would be room for you. I'm thinking you guys don't take a lot of vacations. It's just for the afternoon," she adds, when Megamind looks uncertain.

He darts a look at Minion, his expression sort of urgent and searching. "Um," he says.

"And the evening," Roxanne says, in the interest of honesty.

Minion steps in front of her. "A public park, Miss Ritchi?" he asks.

"Oh—it is, but—"

"Then I'm afraid the answer has to be no," Megamind tells her, but there's a note in his voice that Roxanne hopes might be regret.

"—but it'll just be us, there," Roxanne says. She can buy out the place for the day if the answer is yes. It won't be cheap at the last minute this way, but she doesn't tend to spend a lot of money; she can afford it. "I can promise you that."

Neither of them asks how; she's gratified at that. And touched. They must trust her, then, at least a little bit—right? If she says she can make sure of something, and they don't second-guess her?

"There's a little lake for swimming," she says, when neither of her captors moves or says anything. "Rose and Salim are bringing dinner. And I thought we could build a fire on the beach in the evening and maybe roast marshmallows, or something."

Megamind blinks once. "I like marshmallows," he says slowly. "Um. But. Derya's bedtime is before sunset, isn't that—a little late, for her?"

"She'll have her dinosaur cot to sleep in," Roxanne says, surprised that he would think of that. "And she can stay up a little bit late. Please? I think you'd have fun."

"We'll see, Miss Ritchi," Minion says. "What time should he be at your apartment, if the answer is yes?"

"Twelve-thirty," Roxanne says. That should give them time to get there by two. "You could come too, if you want."

"We'll see," Minion says again, but he sounds doubtful. "Sir? We should start now."

"Yep," says Megamind, and slaps his hand down on the button, and sends his evil laugh rolling around the battle deck as his broadcast takes over the airwaves.

Wayne drops Roxanne off on her balcony after Megamind is hauled away to prison. She sighs. It would have been good to get a solid 'yes' from Megamind about Saturday, but…well, it was something of a long shot, anyway, she supposes. The man is not exactly a social butterfly.

Which is why she nearly jumps out of her skin when she closes the door and Megamind's voice says, from her kitchenette, "What is the name of this park?"

"Jesus," Roxanne gasps, pressing a hand to her chest. "What happened to prison?"

Megamind waves a hand. He's leaning on the counter next to her sink, filling the kettle—sideways, for some reason. "Prison is boring and the cops in this town are incompetent. The park?"

"Star Lake," Roxanne tells him, flopping down onto her sofa so she can sit and unbuckle her heels. "In Judson Pines State Park." Half-bent over on her sofa, fingers working on her shoes, Roxanne looks over at him. "Does this mean you'll come?"

Megamind presses his lips together, furrows his brows. "I…would like to," he says. He sets the kettle on her stovetop, turns it on. Still standing sideways. "But. I'm. Not sure why you want me there. This sounds like a family event."

Roxanne rolls her eyes. She can't let herself make a big deal of this, or he'll spook and run. "I'm allowed to bring friends along places," she says, as though this is the most obvious thing in the world. "It's fun to go places with friends. And like I said, I'm thinking you and Minion don't get out much."

Megamind is quiet.

"Also," Roxanne says, "Rose and Salim trust you. I don't have a lot of friends who know they're both trans. They don't have a lot of friends who know they're both trans, not in the area. It means a lot to them, not to have to worry about you."

"Friends," Megamind says, finally.

Roxanne sits up and curls her legs under her. "Well, yes," she says, leaning her elbow on the back of the sofa and frowning a little. "Aren't we friends? I thought we were."

He swallows. "I see," he says. "Um. I don't…really…know? What friends entails?" He sounds hesitant, uncertain again, and Roxanne's heart twists.

"You've been doing fine so far without trying," she tells him. "Just keep doing that. Being there. Having fun with people." She pauses. "Come sit?" she asks, after a moment. She pats the cushion next to her, a safe distance away.

Megamind comes and sits. He sits with his hands on his knees, facing straight ahead. "Friends," he says again, his voice quiet.

"Aren't we?" Roxanne says, feeling suddenly uncertain, herself. She was assuming they were, but Megamind seems so totally thrown. Was she wrong?

"I'd like to be," he says, still quiet—and it's the second time he's said that, she realizes: I would like, instead of yes.

She clears her throat. "So, that's a yes," she decides, wondering if he'll contradict her. "We're friends. And you're coming with me to the park on Saturday."

Megamind smiles.

(He kidnaps her, the next week, but it almost seems like he doesn't actually have a reason to. He does this whole upset song and dance about why-is-this-machine-not-working, when even Roxanne can see the thing is barely halfway finished. And then he heaves a huge, theatrical sigh, and—)

(—tentatively offers a snack and a puzzle. Or a board game.)

(And then it clicks.)

(Friends, Roxanne realizes, amused and warmed in spite of her fading irritation at having her day interrupted. He's trying. He has no idea what he's doing, but he's trying.)

("Sure," she says, and Megamind's eyes light up. "A game sounds like fun.")

"No Minion?" she asks, when he arrives at her apartment that weekend.

He shakes his head. "No Minion, yes brainbots," he says, jerking his head at the three accompanying him as he steps inside. Roxanne stands back so he can come in, then closes the door behind him as he turns to face her.

She's trying not to stare at him, but it's difficult. He's wearing clothes. Instead of his leathers. A gray henley with a slightly longer placket than standard and dark jeans, and black studded leather boots. It's summer, so the dark colors are on the incongruous side, but as a whole, he looks...really good, actually. Especially with the cropped black gloves he's wearing. Roxanne wouldn't have expected gloves to look good with a short-sleeved shirt, but they scoop down the backs of his long hands and she has to admit Megamind wears them well.

"He did say to thank you for inviting him along," Megamind adds, when Roxanne just blinks at him. "Minion doesn't…leave the Lair, much. Except for plot reasons."

Unsure how to respond to that, Roxanne makes a sympathetic noise and continues trying not to stare at Megamind in street clothing. "Well," she says, "he'll be missed, but maybe next time. Do you need to grab anything from my apartment, or shall we head down to the car?"

"No," he says, "no, I'm good. I'm. Excited, for this. Can I put these in the cooler or would you rather they stay separate? I would dehydrate them," he adds, nodding at the brainbots, two of whom are clutching blue cubes, "but I try to avoid dehydrating items I intend to consume." He holds up two steel bottles, each of which is emblazoned with a skull and crossbones inside a bright red diamond to indicate toxicity.

Roxanne hesitates. "Um," she says. "Those…I think I would rather not put those next to the human-safe food?"

"Fair enough," Megamind says, and starts to hand them off to the brainbots.

She bites her lip. "Hang on, um—"

The mop falls over with a clatter and Roxanne is nearly beaned by her ironing board as she digs through the walk-in closet she uses for storage, looking for a certain insulated tote intended for wine bottles. It takes her a couple minutes to find the right crate, but she does find it.

"Aha!" she cries, emerging from the closet and brandishing her find. "Behold! A bag for you. Do you want those on ice?" Behind her, the ironing board topples over on top of the mop, and Roxanne winces at the sharp crash. Megamind is leaning sideways against her kitchen counter, laughing.

"Ice isn't necessary," he says, still chuckling. "But thank you, that will make this easier."

Roxanne gives him a Look. "I didn't ask if it was necessary, I asked if you wanted it."

Megamind's lips twitch. "Ice would be nice," he admits, and Roxanne sends him a smile.

"See, was that so hard," she teases, scooping ice out of her freezer and into the bottom of the tote. "Here, go ahead and zip your poison into this."

He does so, shaking his head, and he hangs the tote on his shoulder with no apparent compunction or hesitation despite the bag's cheerfully floral design.

Despite Roxanne's protestations, he also picks up the little cooler with the salad and fruits and human-safe beverages, insisting he's more balanced this way. "Cooler on one side, nectar on the other! Balance!" he says, so Roxanne shoulders the bag with the sunscreen and bug spray and beach towels.

"Do you have a swimsuit?" she asks.

"My undersuit. Under my clothes." He pushes one of his sleeves a little higher on his arm, revealing tight-fitting fabric underneath. "Do you?"

"Yep, under my clothes too. Cool, I think we're all set!" She locks the door and leads him down the hall to the elevator and pushes the button for the third floor, which offers a catwalk over into the apartment building's parking garage.

Megamind is stiff and unsmiling in the elevator, and when it stops on the seventh floor, he jumps and goes even stiffer, his shoulders tugging towards his ears. But Roxanne just reaches over and loops his arm through hers, and she ignores the startled way Megamind glances over at her.

"Hi, Mrs. McKinley," she says, smiling at the older woman who gets into the elevator. "Ground floor?"

"Please and thank you," is the reply. She gives Megamind a quick once-over, but her gaze is curious, not fearful. "This is a new one. Are you being kidnapped for a picnic?"

"No kidnappings when he's out of uniform," Roxanne says, patting Megamind's hand on her arm. "No, we're just off to visit some family. Oh, this is us." The doors roll open on the third floor.

"Have fun!" Mrs. McKinley calls, waving as the doors close behind them. Roxanne waves back over her shoulder.

Megamind relaxes, exhales.

"It's really okay," Roxanne tells him, amused. "You're in plainclothes, right? That's the deal?"

"In theory," Megamind says tightly. "Yes. But it's just gentlemen's rules. Metro Man knows, and most of the police, but if somebody sees me and screams—"

"—then I'll kick them in the teeth," Roxanne says cheerfully. Megamind snorts and finally relaxes a little more. "I really am glad you agreed to come," she adds. "I have to say, I was worried you wouldn't show up, today."

Megamind is quiet for a moment. Finally, he says, "This sounded fun. Different. I haven't…I haven't done something truly different in almost five years, now."

"Aw," she says, startled. "What? But—Megamind, you do different plots, different setups—"

"Still just plots. At the end of the day, the goal is the same." He sighs, twirls his wrist. "Destroy Metro Man. Take over Metrocity. Escape from prison. Come up with a new plan. And so on, and so forth, ad infinitum, ad nauseum." He looks over at her, shrugs. "A day trip doesn't fit. In that. So, it's different." Then he swallows. "And…I've never been out of the city, either," he admits. "Not since I was little, and I'm not sure that counts, just based on circumstances."

"Circumstances?"

"I'm not going into it," he says flatly. "Functionally, I have never left Metrocity. This will be…fun."

Roxanne peers at him. Okay, she won't pry, but she isn't afraid to gently tease until he tells her to stop. "You're not going to have some kind of childhood-trauma-induced panic attack when we hit city limits, are you?"

Megamind laughs at that, and he does sound genuinely amused, so Roxanne figures it was an okay question to ask. "No," he says, still half-laughing. "No. I doubt it, anyway, but," he turns and smiles at her, "I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

Megamind does not have a panic attack when they hit city limits. He spends most of the first half of their drive with his face all but pressed to the window, staring at the trees and tall grasses along the roadside—oddly, he seems to be relaxing more the farther they go from the city.

"Roxanne!" he exclaims, at one point. "Roxanne there were deer in that field!"

"Huh," she says, blinking a bit at his tone. She doesn't hear that one from him a lot—bright, excited, surprised. "They don't usually come out this time of day."

He huffs. "I know what I saw."

"I believe you," she says quickly. "Deer are crepuscular; you usually see them around dusk and dawn. But I've seen them at weird times of day, too, a few times. My family used to do a lot of road trips when I was growing up."

Megamind makes an interested noise, still staring out the window. "Road trips to where?"

"I had an uncle in Montana with a cabin out in the mountains. We'd drive out and visit every summer. We still have the place for vacations." She sighs. "I haven't been back there in a while," she says, regret in her voice. "Mom lives out near there, now, but it's far enough that you definitely want to spend a week or so there for the drive to be worth it. I haven't been able to commit the time."

Megamind frowns. "Roxanne," he says, "do you like your job?"

"What?" she says, thrown by the change of subject. "Yes, I love my job."

"Okay, but do you?" he asks. "Truly? You haven't said anything good about it in quite some time. And Minion mentioned to me that you seemed…unsatisfied."

Roxanne sighs. "It's complicated," she admits. "I used to enjoy it way more. Lately, it's felt like kind of a grind."

"What would you like to be doing?"

"I'd love to be in accountability journalism," Roxanne says. "But it's a tough field to find steady employment in. Fact-checking is one thing, but the kinds of projects I really enjoy tend to take a while to crack open, you know? Some of them can take years. So most major news outlets don't keep those kinds of journalists on staff; they pay by the story." She sighs. How about you? she wants to ask. If you weren't a villain, what would you be doing? But she's pretty sure that won't go over well. He seemed very touchy about it at Waffle House.

And she doesn't get the opportunity anyway, because Megamind says, "That sounds much more your style, I have to say. Your attention to detail is—" And suddenly he cuts off with a pained gasp and curls forward in his seat, pressing his hand to the side of his face.

"What?" Roxanne asks, alarmed. "What's wrong? Do you need me to pull over?"

Megamind shakes his head. "No, no—it's nothing, it's—my eye, sorry—" He hisses, rubs his fingers into his eye with his thumb on his temple. "Happens sometimes," he grits out. "Damned optic nerve gets caught on—um—on a thing, it's—a thing I have."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," he groans, still massaging around his eye socket. "Just—hhhhhhh—give me a minute."

Roxanne glances over at him, concerned, but she keeps driving. Megamind stays where he is: hunched forward in the passenger seat, with his fingers pressed to his left eye, grumbling and flinching.

Until finally he bursts out, "No. No. Pull hhhhhhhpull the car over."

Roxanne throws her four-ways on and does so, wondering what on earth is happening. Megamind unbuckles and throws his door open and flings himself up onto his feet as soon as the car stops moving, stumbling out onto the berm.

"Okay," Megamind says. He sounds almost angry. "I am terribly sorry about this, Miss Ritchi; if I was at home I would have Minion take care of it. The brainbots can't; they're too sharp."

"It's okay," she says quickly, hurrying around the car. "Don't worry about it; how can I help?"

Megamind straightens and faces her. His left eye appears to be stuck at an angle, twitching intermittently. "I need you to hit me," he says, "as hard as you can."

She recoils. "What?"

"I need you," he says again, impatient, "to hit me. Channel all that oh-great-it's-you-again-why-do-you-keep-kidnapping-me energy you used to have and knock my eye back into position."

Roxanne stares at him. That. Was. A shockingly accurate imitation of both her vocal cadence and her actual voice, there. Also, what?

"Preferably soon," Megamind snaps, clenching his hands at his sides. "This is excruciatingly painful."

She swallows and shakes herself. "Oh—okay, so—um, hold still—"

She bites her lip, then pulls her hand back and slaps Megamind smartly across the face. His head snaps sideways. He grunts.

"Okay," he says, his voice tight, and faces her again. His eye is still stuck. "Again. A little higher. As hard as you can; don't hold back."

"Megamind—"

"Please," he hisses through clenched teeth. "Please."

She takes a deep breath through her nose, then releases it through her mouth, steadying herself. Then she takes another breath, and—

The sharp sound of her palm on his skin makes her wince.

"Fuck," he says, breathless, as she shakes out her hand. "Goddammit. It almost—hhhhhh. Almost. Again."

"Would punching work?" she asks, desperate, her heart in her throat. "I just, I'm so sorry, I can do it harder that way, I can—if—would that be better?"

Megamind nods and straightens. "Yes," he says, sounding very tense. "Yes, if you can get more power that way, then yes. Try that. Right here, aim—aim for right here." He taps the top of his cheek just to the side of and under his eye, then drops his hand and clenches his fists again. Whines involuntarily, his whole face tight with pain.

"Okay," Roxanne whispers, bouncing a little and shaking out her arms to try and wind herself up. "Okay, okay—on three, ready—one, two—" She clenches her fist and bends her arm into a right angle at her elbow, and then she aims for the side of his face where he showed her.

She feels the shock in her first two knuckles as they make contact. Megamind yelps and stumbles. But—

"Oh," he says, gasping with relief in the next second, as Roxanne darts forward to catch him. "Oh that's so much better, oh thank evil."

Roxanne grips his arm and tugs him up so she can see his face, cup his cheek, look at his eyes. Megamind is blinking hard and his eyes are watering, but they're clear and focused; the left one has come unstuck at last. "Are you okay?" she asks, frantic and upset. She sweeps her thumb over his cheekbone where she struck him. "Megamind, god, I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

He nods, blinking at her. "Yes, yes I'm fine. I'm fine." He grips her wrist, then takes her hand in both of his and bends his head so he can inspect her knuckles and the bones in her hand. "Are you okay? I didn't—oh, I didn't even think; you could have seriously hurt yourself—"

"It's fine," she says. Her hand hurts, but not in a way that means anything is broken. "It's fine, I'm fine; are you—let me, please let me see; is your eye—?"

He looks up at her, then blinks and freezes as she cups his jaw in one hand and presses the other gently to the place where she hit him.

"I am so sorry," Roxanne says.

Megamind blinks. Touches the back of her hand.

"I'm okay," he says, looking at her, both eyes big and startled. "You fixed it. And I did ask you to hit me, Miss Ritchi; it isn't as though you wanted to."

"I didn't want to," she says, still cradling his face in her hands. "I haven't wanted to hit you in years, Megamind. Not in years."

His lips twitch. "We shall call it a belated gift, then," he says, humor warming his voice. Carefully, he steps back, away from her, and then he turns back to the car. "Thank you for helping me," he says over his shoulder. "I'm…sorry you had to see that."

Roxanne swallows. But she goes around the car and slides back into the driver's seat. "What was that?" she asks, as Megamind buckles himself in. The brainbots are chattering quietly amongst themselves in the back seat, but they don't sound particularly agitated. "What happened? Is it going to happen again?"

"No," he says firmly, tipping his seat back. "No, because I'm going to keep my eyes closed, now. I think—looking out the window, the flicking motion eyes have to do in order to see at these speeds—I think it aggravated my, um, my problem? A problem I have on that side. It's just an old wound, nothing major, but it does act up sometimes."

"An old wound," she says, tentatively relieved. "Just an old wound."

"Yes," he says. "That's all. Thank you for helping me." He tips his face towards her with his eyes closed and grins. "You have a fantastic right hook, Miss Ritchi. I'm impressed."

She flushes. "Yes, well. We're stopping at the next gas station and getting ice for your face and my hand."

He hums. "Sounds like a plan."

To her surprise, when she pulls into the Sunoco and turns to her traveling companion, Megamind's face has relaxed and his lips are parted in sleep. One hand is curled loosely in his lap, the other is draped over his stomach.

He looks. Peaceful.

Also very tired, Roxanne realizes, looking at him. There are shadows under his eyes and in the lines around his mouth. His eyebrows are relaxed, but there are two small wrinkles between them that she thinks are probably permanent. Which is odd, because Megamind does look fairly young. He hasn't appeared to age much at all since he started his rise to villainy more than a decade ago, especially compared to his heroic counterpart, whose hair is more gray than brown, now.

Roxanne leaves the car running in an attempt not to wake him, and is careful closing her door. She quickly buys a bag of ice, a roll of paper towels, and a small package of off-brand ziploc sandwich baggies.

And, remembering a comment Megamind made once about nougat, two large Three Musketeers candy bars. Yes, he did ask her to hit him, but she still feels awful about it.

She knocks on his window to wake him up, then bounces the bag of ice on the pavement a few times. Megamind opens his door and swings his legs down, frowning at her as she rips the top of the bag open. "What are you doing?"

"Ice," she says, handing him the box of plastic baggies. "Can you open these for me? And get a couple out?"

He does so. "I'm okay," he says, sounding both amused and bewildered. "Really."

"That's great, but I'll feel better if we get some ice on your eye," Roxanne says. "Don't tell me it doesn't hurt. I know you're tough, but come on." She scoops some ice into the baggie Megamind is helpfully holding open for her, then takes it from him and seals it, wraps it in a couple of paper towels. "Here."

Slowly, he takes it and holds it to the side of his face, blinking at her. Roxanne doesn't look at him as she makes one for her hand—she just tosses her finished home-made ice pack onto the driver's seat so she can heave the bag of ice onto the floor of the car behind Megamind's seat. It won't hurt to have extra ice for the cooler, and whatever melts onto Jo's carpet will dry. It's just water, after all.

"And here again," she tells him as she climbs into the car. She hands him the chocolate bars.

"Oh," he says, sounding both startled and genuinely touched, "you—you got me candy! These are my favorite!"

"I know," she says, grinning over at him. "You mentioned, once. And I'm glad you did, because otherwise you would have been getting Reese's Pieces."

Megamind looks confused for a moment, and then his expression clears and he laughs. "E.T.?" he says. "Really?"

"Oh, good, you got the reference," Roxanne says, pulling back onto the main road.

He chuckles. "That movie gave me so many nightmares," he comments, his mouth full of nougat.

"Aw, really? I would have thought you would like it! Alien scientist befriends small human child? No?"

"Considering the subplot involving shady government agents and men in white coats, no, not my thing."

"Mmmm," she hums, pitching her voice toward sympathy. "That's understandable. I can see how that might hit close to home."

Megamind, fully reclining in the passenger seat so his eye doesn't pitch another fit at him, turns his head to look sidelong at her. "Are you mocking me?" he asks. "I can't tell."

"What? No, how would that even translate to mockery?"

He shrugs.

"I'm not mocking you," she tells him, glancing over. "I might tease you, Megamind, but I won't mock. Not intentionally."

He studies her for a moment, then nods. And then he breaks the second candy bar in half and proceeds to menace her with the bigger half until she finally laughs and takes it away from him. She does poke him in the arm with the broken nougaty end of it, though, before she eats it. Megamind squawks at her and laughs and has to bend himself awkwardly to lick the chocolate spot off his skin, grinning.

Chapter Text

Megamind gets out of the car and immediately stops dead in his tracks.

"Oh," he says, wide-eyed, turning a slow circle in the stone-dust parking lot. "Oh. It smells different? It smells different, here."

"On Earth, we call that 'fresh air,'" Roxanne tells him. Megamind rolls his eyes and flaps a hand at her, still breathing deeply.

"Yes, yes, fresh air, I am aware. I've just—I have never smelled that, before? It's weird."

Roxanne shakes her head. "Okay, Mister Sniffy, help me bungee cord this wagon," she says. She has the cooler pinned between their folding chairs along the sides, but they'll have to bungee the chairs down to keep everything in place. "If I hold this side—"

"Yes, here," Megamind says, darting forward and taking the bungee cord away. "Of course, let me." He grips the elastic cord by the hooks, stretches them out and away from each other, and then he swings them down over the chairs and hooks them on the edges of the wagon with very little apparent effort.

Roxanne blinks at him, startled, as he performs the move again with a second bungee. She's never seen anyone do that without anchoring one side first and then stretching the other hook up and over the item to be bungeed. "Thanks," she says, as he straightens and dusts off his hands.

"Don't thank me," he says, tucking his beverage tote in behind the cooler. The three brainbots hover down close to the wagon, studying it, bowging quietly amongst themselves. It's a little red Radio Flyer, the wagon Roxanne grew up with.

She leads him across the deserted parking lot to a trail head, Megamind turning every which way to look around with big eyes as they walk. "What is the hissing?" he asks, about halfway across the parking lot. Roxanne looks over at him, confused. "The hissing," he repeats. "That sound. Whsssh whsssh whsssh."

"Oh! Insects in the grass." There's a wide-open field with tall grasses and flowers beyond the parking lot. "Grasshoppers, probably."

"Huh," he says, and stops at the trailhead, looking at the field. "Can I see them? In the grass?"

Roxanne pauses. "They'll probably hop away," she says. "But…here, follow me. And, um, take off your gloves."

She's a little surprised to find herself doing this, but why not? It's been a while since she went on a bug hunt, but you never get too old. She leaves the wagon by the trailhead and wades into the long grass of the field, Megamind following behind.

"They sound like they're everywhere," he says, still looking around himself as she stops walking. "But none of them are close?"

"They stop singing when they hear us coming," Roxanne tells him, holding very still and focusing on her target. "But—" She dives. Cups her hands down over the greenish brown insect, then scoops it up. "Aha!" she exclaims, turning to Megamind with her hands held closed. The grasshopper's little feet scratch at her palms and fingers. "Hold out your hands. It's probably going to poop on you, fair warning. They do that."

Carefully, she transfers the insect into Megamind's cupped hands, and then wipes her palms on her shorts. She's worried at first that the little thing will hop away before Megamind can get a good look, but it only crawls onto the side of his thumb and perches there. That's right, she remembers; it's crickets that are hop-happy. Grasshoppers tend to be surprisingly docile, considering their place in the food chain.

He stares at it. "It tickles," he says, laughing a little. "It—I love it! Look at its legs! Look at its little face! It's cute!"

Roxanne waits so he can inspect it, and so she can try to memorize the delighted expression on his face. It isn't one she sees him wear often, and never with this degree of wonder behind it.

He looks up at her, eyes sparkling. "Can I eat this?"

"Um—probably? Some people do eat them. But I think they cook them first."

He grins and crouches to shoo the insect off his hand. A bunch of cornflowers, almost the exact shade of his skin in sunlight, tap gently against the side of his head in the low breeze. "Another time, maybe," he says. Then he pauses. When he straightens, his smile is fading.

Roxanne nudges his arm with her elbow, and he freezes. "Hey," she says. "Don't you get all sad on me." She grins. "We're going to do this again, okay?"

He studies her for a second. "We are?"

She nods. "Sure, of course." She raises her eyebrows a little, daring him to contradict her. "Why not?"

Slowly, his lips tug into something like a tentative, uncertain smile. "Yeah," he says, still sort of staring at her. "Okay. I'd—I'd like that."

The path to the lake is wide and well-trodden, good for a little wagon and not really a hiking trail. And it isn't far—the dry field by the parking lot probably fades into a marsh, farther back. As they come out of the forest and onto a green, grassy lawn, Megamind pauses and looks around.

He's standing at the back of a sort of small peninsula out into the water. There's a pavilion with some picnic tables, and a small brick building that appears to be bathrooms and changing rooms. Trees rising behind him with shrubs and forest-edge bracken at their bases, tall reeds and rushes and lily pads in the water on either side of him. And in front of him, a small, yellow-sand beach with the full lake glittering beyond it.

Oh, hell yes.

Megamind might live on Lake Michigan, but he doesn't often make time to swim in it. He rarely even looks at it; looking at the lake while in saltwater mode tends to make him feel strange and panicky and conflicted, an unpleasant blend of no-yes-no. He generally keeps his swimming to the saltwater reef pool in Evil Lair's bottom-most sub-level. But he made sure to adjust his body's osmoregulatory processes to freshwater, rather than saltwater, earlier this week, in anticipation of this trip. It's not a pleasant process, but based on the way everything in his all-over everywhere has just sat up and tingled at him, it's going to be worth it.

Roxanne is all the way to the beach before Megamind catches up with her.

"How deep is the lake?" he asks eagerly, wriggling out of his shirt, eyes sparkling. Roxanne pauses in setting up their chairs.

"I'm not sure," she says slowly, as Megamind shrugs out of his shirt and starts on his boots and his jeans, hands fumbling, eyes on the lake. Roxanne has never seen him like this, has never even imagined him like this. "It's going to be pretty cold, though, if you get too far away from shore."

"Oh I don't care about cold," he scoffs, scrambling out of his boots and shoving his pants down his legs. He leaves his watch in place. "I—I just—I haven't gone swimming outside of the reef pool in ages and I need—I need to—"

"Reef pool?"

"Yes, it—oh. Yes. I'll, um, I'll explain later." He scrunches his toes in the sand and stares hungrily at the water. He's all but vibrating with energy. "Um. Can. Will you be okay if I—but I can help, if you—I just, sorry, I—"

"Go," Roxanne says immediately. "Yes, go, I'm fine. I'm—"

He's gone. He sprang into a run as soon as she said 'go' the first time and hit the water at a sprint, took three huge steps, and dove forward and down and vanished.

"—going to wait for Rose and Salim," Roxanne finishes, laughing a little and shaking her head at the ripples where he disappeared.

So, this was a perfect idea. Bringing him here was absolutely the correct move. Still sort of laughing, Roxanne gathers up his clothes from where he dropped them and shakes the sand out of them before draping them over the back of a chair. She hesitates about his gloves; they're awfully light weight, and while she doesn't want them to blow away, she also doesn't want to leave them crumpled in the pocket of Megamind's jeans. Finally she just tucks them into her purse.

"Hey!"

Roxanne turns and waves at Salim, coming out of the woods carrying a cooler and towing a rectangular, wheeled bag Roxanne recognizes as the canopy her family often brings along on these kinds of outings. It's not safe for rain, but it is great for keeping the sun off. "Hey, you!" she calls as he approaches. "Need help getting the shade set up? Where's Rose?"

"Changing Derya back at the car," Salim says. "They'll be along shortly. Yeah, let me get the chairs free first—"

He has them bungee-corded to the shade awning. It's an easy enough contraption to set up, with two people working on it, and they're finished in only a minute or so.

"So, where's Megamind?" Salim asks, looking up and down the little beach. Grinning, Roxanne gestures at the lake. "Oh! Swimming already. Well, good for him."

He comes to stand next to Roxanne and look out at the water with her. "Subhanallah," he says, smiling and inhaling the smell of plants and fresh water, "it's a nice lake."

"It is, it is."

Silence.

"Is he, um." Salim clears his throat. "Is he planning on…ah, breathing? He's been down an awful long time."

Roxanne shakes her head. "I'm really not sure," she says. "He said once, he spent most of the time on his home world in the water, so I'm thinking he's probably at least partly aquatic—oh!"

A hump of water has emerged some ways out into the lake and is running along the surface parallel to shore at a surprising clip, the water behind it buckling intermittently as Megamind kicks like a dolphin. Surface tension, Roxanne thinks. Huh.

"He's fast," Salim says, sounding impressed.

The hump disappears, dissipates, and all is quiet—

—and then Megamind breaches, flings himself straight up out of the water with his arms at his sides and his feet together, turning a complete backflip and another half-turn to crash back down headfirst, bringing his arms up and over his head halfway through to ease his dive.

"So, like I said," Roxanne says, after a startled pause. "Aquatic." Salim makes an impressed sort of noise in response.

"Oh, is he swimming already?" Rose says, coming down the lawn with Derya in a baby carrier on her back and a half-inflated floaty chair in her hands. "That water looks really nice, I have to say."

Out on the lake, Megamind breaches again, spinning this time rather than flipping, and he falls feet-first. Derya squeals and kicks her feet and makes grab hands. "Yeah?" her father says as he lifts her out of the carrier and bounces her a little. "Yeah? You want to swim?"

Derya babbles something, a sort of humming "Bbbbbmmmbumbrbm" raspberry sound, and Roxanne laughs, startled.

"What? What was that?" she asks.

Rose, finishing another long exhale into the floaty and then panting a little to get her breath back, laughs too. "We're not sure," she says. "But it's adorable. She's been doing it for…oh, about a month, now?"

"Something like that," Salim agrees.

Roxanne holds out her hands. "Here, let me take her," she says, and Salim passes her over. "I'll get her in her suit and sunscreen while you get your chairs and stuff set up. Hello! Hi! Okay, come on with Auntie Roxie, we're going to go swimming! Get you in your swimsuit first…"

Derya whimpers and whines unhappily about the sunscreen, but there's probably no way around that. Roxanne talks her through it as she wrinkles her little face, explaining what she's doing before and as she does it, hoping that makes things a little less of an unpleasant shock. She has no idea if it helps, but Derya only fusses; she doesn't cry.

She's an easy baby, all things considered. Rose and Salim are lucky.

"Okay," Roxanne says, tucking Derya's floppy green hat onto her head and picking her niece back up again, carrying her towards the water. "Yes, time for swimming! Almost time for swimming! Rose, catch." She does not actually throw the baby, but she has to get out of her own clothes eventually and down to the swimsuit she's wearing underneath.

"Oh, cute!" Rose says, as Roxanne folds her own clothes over the chair on top of Megamind's. "I don't think I've seen that suit before." Rose is already in the water, holding Derya as they slowly move out to Salim with the floaty: two blue and green rings connected by mesh netting, with a mesh and nylon awning and a seat for Derya to dangle her legs down through and sit up in. It also boasts a smiling, cheerful frog with little toys hanging from its hook-shaped legs for the baby to play with.

Roxanne laughs. "No, it's…ah, it's new?" It's a green bikini with blue stripes. The cut is slightly less modest than Roxanne usually goes for, but still covers enough area for her to be comfortable. The legs are cut a bit higher up the hip than most Roxanne has seen in a while, but it's the cut she prefers when she can find it. It makes her legs look a little longer. The suit was a lucky find; swimsuit shopping is a special kind of hell.

"Looks nice," Rose tells her as Roxanne splashes into the lake and sidestrokes out to them.

"Yeah, I wasn't expecting to match Derya's floaty chair," Roxanne laughs. "Hello! Are you all wet! You're in the water!"

They're hanging out at a depth of around four or five feet, which is well in Roxanne's comfort zone. She relaxes with her family, chatting and enjoying the cool water, laughing as Derya cheers and babbles and pats the watery mesh of the floaty with her chubby baby hands.

And then. Something. Brushes past Roxanne's leg. Just for a moment, just—but she felt something, not quite touching her, but—

"Whoa, looks you felt a disturbance in the Force," Salim says, grinning at her. "What's up? Fish bite your toe?"

"No," Roxanne says slowly, peering at the water. "No, but I thought I felt—something—there it was again, did you feel that?"

Rose cocks her head at her. "No, what was—" She cuts herself off as Roxanne suddenly shrieks and jumps like she's been electrocuted.

But she's swearing in the next second, and laughing. "You!" she cries, holding her arms out of the water and laughing and trying to scowl down through the sun-glare on the water as Megamind's grinning, water-foggy face looms into view at around hip-height. "You ass! Get up here!"

"Sounds like you found your villain," Rose says, lips twitching.

"He found me," Roxanne grumbles, as Megamind disappears again. "He grabbed my ankles."

A couple seconds later, Megamind surfaces a few feet away, blowing his nostrils open and shaking his head, blinking his eyes. And already laughing.

"Ha!" he cries, pointing at her with one hand and throwing the other into the air in triumph. "Ha ha! I made you scream! Finally!"

"That doesn't count!" Roxanne exclaims, swatting water at him so he laughs harder. "That doesn't count! You horrible creepy thing, that doesn't count! You grabbed my ankles in dark water! That's like every human's secret scary button!"

"I am eee-villll, Miss Ritchiiii," he sings at her, showing all his teeth in his sparkling Cheshire cat smile. "You really have only yourself to blame if you're surprised. Aaa! Aaa! No spitting!" She's just taken a mouthful of lake water and spat it at him.

"Eeevil," she sings back, and Megamind snorts and rolls his eyes at her.

"Fine, then we're even," he says, standing up in the water and approaching. Rose waves at him, smiling, and Salim does a sort of salute hello motion because he's laughing and can't talk. Derya squeals and bounces in her chair.

Megamind, still smiling, makes the exact same squeal right back at her, and then a few extremely high-pitched squeaks and a trill that make Derya give another happy shriek.

Roxanne cocks her head at him. "You're really good at mimicking sounds," she says. "You did that earlier, too, with my voice."

Megamind shrugs. "Sounds are easy," he says. "Voices are a little more difficult, but I've heard yours often enough that it isn't an issue. I would have a hard time coming up with anything new, anything you haven't actually said at some point—but since I can't exactly forget anything, that's also not much of an issue."

"You can't forget anything?" Rose says, curious, and Megamind shakes his head.

"The best I can explain it is that I have basically zero short-term memory," he says, glancing out at the lake. "Everything goes straight into long-term storage. Sometimes it might take me a few seconds to remember something, but it's always there."

"The thing you said earlier," Roxanne says. "Was that—"

"Why do you keep kidnapping me," Megamind says, in a surprising approximation of Roxanne's voice. "You have three million people in this city to choose from! And I have things I want to do, today! I don't exist for your convenience!"

"Holy smokes," says Salim, staring at him. "That's incredible."

He smiles uncertainly, and his gaze flicks out at the lake again for a second before he refocuses. "It's a decent talent to have, and it has come in handy for me, a few times. No, I'm not going to tell you when," he adds, looking at Roxanne, who pouts at him. "But I…don't generally use it, very much. It, ah—it tends to freak people out."

"I think it's nifty," Salim offers, "personally." Megamind sends him another distracted-looking smile.

"Megamind," says Roxanne. "Do you need to keep swimming?"

He sort of freezes. "I—I don't—um—"

"Go swim," she says, trying desperately not to laugh. "It's okay."

He ducks under the water and vanishes.

Rose cocks her head at her sister. "So, what's his story?"

Roxanne hesitates. "Which part of his story?" she asks, but Rose just shrugs.

"I mean, he seems personable enough," she says. "And he really was adorable with Derya that time on the air. Why on earth did he pick villainy?"

Roxanne frowns, wondering how to phrase this. Finally she says, slowly, "I don't think he realizes he can do anything else."

Rose blinks and recoils. Salim stares at her. "Well that's sad," he says, sounding startled. Roxanne can only shrug.

"Is that why we're here?" Rose asks. "Why you wanted to bring him? Show him…I don't know, show him he's more than big laser cannons?"

Roxanne hesitates. She…wow, that's actually a great reason. "Partly?" she says, embarrassed that it wasn't and thinking, well, it is now. "Mostly I just…" She pauses, takes a deep breath. "I just wanted to give him something nice. He…he said once…"

She trails off.

"No," she decides, frowning. "No, it's…personal. I think."

Rose and Salim glance at each other.

"You sound worried," Rose prompts gently.

Roxanne occasionally chafes at her younger sister's emotional prying, but sometimes it comes in handy. "Minion told me, a while back, hydrogen cyanide supplements certain of Megamind's amino acids. Oh, speaking of which—do not drink the stuff in the steel bottles he brought with him." She swallows. "But…tell me what that sounds like to you? Tell me I'm stupid for worrying about that."

Rose blinks. "It sounds like he was suicidal," she says quietly. "At some point."

Roxanne nods. Yeah. So, she isn't crazy.

"He seems okay to me," Salim offers. "Now, at least."

"I'm not sure," Roxanne admits. She looks out at the lake, calm and shimmering. "I think he lives very much in the moment. Which is great, when the moment is good, but…he's a supervillain. Most of his moments are socially isolated and some flavor of destructive."

Rose studies her sister's face for a moment . "You're in love with him," she says, quiet.

Roxanne bites her lip and glances at her. Takes a deep breath. "Maybe. I'm definitely getting there."

Rose's face is all sympathy as she reaches out and squeezes Roxanne's arm. "Oh, Annie. I'm so sorry. That's…going to be hard."

"I don't need it to be easy," Roxanne says, fiddling with Derya's little blue pufferfish toy. "I just want him to know he can have nice things. That's all. Give him options."

"If anyone can teach him, it's you," Salim tells her. "I know you. You're a mule."

Roxanne laughs in spite of herself. "I am, kinda, huh?" She shakes her head, shakes herself a little. "I'm not all that worried about him right now," she says, trying to reassure them—and herself, somewhat. "I don't think he's unhappy, exactly. He really does seem to enjoy villainy overall. And the whole inventing-engineering aspect is a great fit for his mind! I've just gotten to know him better in recent months, and I…care about him a little more than I was expecting to, that's all."

Rose smiles a little. "Well," she says, in a bracing sort of voice. "If there's anything we can do to help, you let us know, okay? Derya seems absolutely spoony about him; I'd kinda like to keep him around for a while."

Roxanne snorts. "Yeah, me too," she says. "Him and Minion. I'm sorry you guys couldn't meet Minion, apparently he doesn't leave Evil Lair much except for schemes and plots. And groceries, probably." Salim laughs. "Did I tell you he got Hal fired for me?"

"What!" Rose exclaims, lighting up. "No, you did not tell us that! Hal got fired? What?"

Roxanne laughs. "Yeah, I'll have to send you the video," she says. "He wore some kind of disguise and just went off at Hal at this photoshoot, it was incredible. He—"

"Heads up," Salim says suddenly, nodding at some bubbles bursting on the surface a couple feet away from Roxanne, and sure enough, Megamind stands up a second later. His shoulders and chest are bare, now; that's different; a glance down shows Roxanne that his undersuit is rolled down to his waist and fastened there somehow.

"Roxanne! Look!" He holds out his hands, wrapped carefully around something, and he carefully shifts them so he can keep them cupped full of water.

"What is…oh, a tadpole!"

"With legs!" he exclaims. He's right, the green-speckled bullfrog tadpole curled in his blue hands has a pair of reasonably-developed hind legs.

"Oooh, let me see," Rose says, coming closer. Megamind holds his find out for inspection, giving Roxanne the chance to sneak a closer look at…gills? Are those gills, between his ribs? Huh.

"I saw one in a book when I was a kid but I've never seen a real one," he says, beaming. "There are a lot of them in the reeds over there."

Roxanne pats him on the shoulder and does not stare at his gills or his shining expanse of wet blue skin or the lean muscles of his back. "That's a big one," she says. "Nice catch! You should show Derya."

The baby is playing with the frog on her floaty in front of her, and Salim moves in to take her hand and help her gently pat the tadpole without hurting it. She looks uncertain about this, at first, but after a couple of small pats she tries to close her fingers on its tail. "No, gentle," Salim says, moving her hand back. "Gentle, Derya. See the tadpole? This is a tadpole."

The tadpole twitches, wiggles, attempts to nose away between Megamind's long fingers. Derya squeals at it as Salim helps her pat it one more time.

Megamind grins down at her, then folds his hands around the tadpole again. "I'll go put it back," he says. He taps his forehead against Derya's as he crouches, and then he vanishes under the water again. Derya shrieks and kicks her body a few times, staring around at the water.

Rose grins at her sister. "You're in love with a fish."

"A fish person! A fish man!" Roxanne protests, laughing a little, feeling her face heat.

"Yeah, okay, Guillermo del Toro."

"Oh, thbppbpt," Roxanne says, "you're awful," rolling her eyes and blushing, and then she steers the conversation into safer waters.

When Megamind comes back a third time, he discovers that Derya likes to play here-again-there-again games. The two of them have a lovely time for a few minutes as Megamind pokes his head out of the water, makes a comical face at her, and then ducks down again to reappear somewhere different a few seconds later. Derya giggles and cheers and stares around, jumps and laughs when Megamind pops his head up.

Megamind is absolutely as delighted as the baby is about this, and after a while he feels calm enough to stand and chat with Roxanne's family. This is the first time he's met Salim, but they hit it off pretty well. Salim is startlingly easy to talk to, and Megamind finds himself answering about how his gills and the hollow water intakes above his collarbones work, explaining that no, his species didn't evolve them, they were built and gifted from the deepwater people who breathe without gills—agreeing to explain later, maybe, if the opportunity arises.

But eventually Rose and Salim decide to head back towards the beach. It is early summer, still, and while the lake isn't cold, it's not warm, either. And Derya is very small, and it's important not to let her get too chilly.

Megamind hesitates, and Roxanne—who he's pretty sure is being far kinder to him than she should be—smiles at him and asks if he wants to keep swimming.

"You can go in," he says. "I'm—ha, lesson learned, I need to do this more often for myself. I thought the reef pool was enough, but apparently not!"

She cocks her head at him. "You mentioned a reef pool earlier," she says. "What is that?" and so Megamind takes a deep breath and pushes his trepidation down and also explains about his and Minion's salt and freshwater cycles, their semi-voluntary control over their osmoregulatory processes, and he explains that salt is generally more comfortable and also a lot warmer, which he does like. "Cold water doesn't bother me, exactly," he says. "But warm water is nicer. It feels…less lonely? I suppose? So I mostly stay in saltwater processes, even outside of my natural salt cycles." He frowns. "Which…may not be good for me, come to think of it."

Roxanne is staring at him. "So you have a coral reef in your basement," she says, sounding absolutely stunned about this. "Megamind, that's incredible. How do you not spend all your time trying to maintain it?"

"Brainbots!" He smiles. "A fleet of my amphibious bots handle reef and tank maintenance. It's funny, seeing which of them make that choice. Most of them are on the cold fusion reactor maintenance teams."

She shakes her head. "Can I see, sometime?"

"I would—" love to show you, he almost says, but—

Oh, but what. Seriously, it's nice to talk about these things. It's nice to stand here in the water and talk to Roxanne about what little of his life exists outside of villainy.

"I would love to show you," he says, with a sparkling smile. "I'll have to get you some scuba gear, first; it's quite deep. But yes, of course you can see."

"I can't wait," she says, and she really does look like she means it.

So he hesitates, then asks, "Do you…want to swim with me? Now? It's not pretty, the way the reef would be, but—um, there are some bushes on the other side of the lake with these berries that I think are blueberries, and—do you want to see?"

And, to his utter shock and astonishment, Roxanne nods and smiles and reaches for him, saying, "Sure! Yeah, that sounds like fun! Where—" She blushes. Megamind cocks his head at her. "Where do you want me?"

Which is how Megamind winds up sitting on a rock across the lake a few minutes later, eating wild blueberries. Roxanne steps carefully back out of the crackling bracken and onto the sun-warm stone with him, and she sits down beside him with a pleased-sounding sigh. Offers him a few more berries from the small handful she's just gathered. Her hair is still wet from their trip across the lake and it's swept back from her forehead, now, slicked down instead of fluffing out like it usually does. This does make her head look slightly smaller, but it also shows off her unusually high forehead, which—ha. Aha ha. That isn't making Megamind blush at all, ahaha, shut up. He is also seeing way more of her skin than he's used to, and he is delighted to discover she is freckled everywhere, not just her face and shoulders; that, also, is definitely not making his stomach feel pleasantly twisty.

Really, what is even going on with him, today? First the lake, now this? Stop it, body. Hush.

He re-focuses on the external. This is nice, sitting here with Roxanne, sunning himself. He doesn't frequently get the opportunity to just sit and look around at anything pretty. The blueberries are smaller than any he's ever seen, but somehow they're also sweeter, and he's a fan of that.

"We need to bring Derya back here when she starts on foods she can chew," he hears himself say, and—he blinks, then—and his heart and stomach both clench, because—

That will have to be a year from now. For the blueberries, a year from now, because she won't be on complex solids while the berries are still in season. And really, there's no guarantee Megamind will even still be breathing, a year from now. He has no illusions about his lifespan. He is already living on borrowed time, already an outlier by all the statistics of his career, and he knows it.

But, "Oh, definitely," Roxanne agrees, oblivious to Megamind's consternation. "Yeah, we really do. Actually, you know, if we come back next summer in the morning, we could make blueberry pancakes. You haven't lived until you've had wild blueberry pancakes with my stepdad's recipe."

Megamind takes a deep breath and calms himself. There's no sense being maudlin about it. Everybody dies someday. He's okay.

"Can't wait," he says. It probably won't happen, but…it's nice enough to think about, even if he can't really see it happening.

He's okay.

Beside him, Roxanne sighs again, and he glances at her, worried—but she's smiling. It was a contentment sigh, he realizes. She's happy. "This is really nice," she says, echoing his earlier thoughts, and she leans sideways against his arm for a moment before looking at him and aiming that relaxed, contented smile at him. "I'm glad you came."

"Me too," he says. And then he grins and says, "Think fast!" and tosses a blueberry up in the air and sort of in her direction, and Roxanne ducks, trying to catch it in her mouth. It bounces off her cheek, and she gives a bright laugh, and Megamind feels warm all the way through to the soul of him.

Roxanne slogs up onto the beach with Megamind laughing breathlessly behind her. "Good lord," she says, turning around to walk backwards grinning at him, "you really are fast! Wow!"

Megamind gulps and nods, still half-laughing, and then he staggers and drops to his knees, twists, and flops onto his back in the sand and lies there with his head thrown back and his smooth chest heaving as he gasps for breath.

"Annie, what have you done to that poor man?" Rose asks from where she's sitting under the canopy. Derya is on her play mat in the shade.

"She told me to go as fast as I could go," Megamind calls back, grinning and panting, before Roxanne can answer. "So I did, because I am an idiot." He sits up and gratefully accepts the beach towel Roxanne tosses him. "Oof. I think I'm done swimming, for now." He sits for a few moments, getting his wind back, and then he remembers something.

"Oh!" he exclaims. "And here, I brought…"

He gets to his feet and whistles for his brainbots, which come zipping down out of the trees from where they were exploring, and he holds out his hands so they can drop their cubes into his palms.

Roxanne snorts and comes up behind him. "Hold still," she says, "you're all covered with sand," and Megamind stills for her instead of jumping away like a frightened rabbit as she brushes her towel quickly over the back of his head, his shoulders, his back, the backs of his legs.

(how long has it been since he last allowed someone to approach from behind him)

(he wears the memory of that bullet in a pair of pale scars on his back and his chest)

He turns, cocks an eyebrow at her, grinning in spite of the way his skittish heart is leaping and slamming inside him. "Better?"

She grins and swats his chest with the towel, then heads for her chair with a root beer in her hand. Megamind watches her go, then carefully rolls his undersuit back up and over his arms, careful not to disturb his watch.

"What did you bring?" Rose asks, blinking at the little cubes as Megamind comes and carefully lowers himself down to sit cross-legged on the grass by Derya's play mat. He reaches for Roxanne's drink and she seems to know exactly what he wants; she leans forward and offers it to him base-first, holding it for him while he swipes his long fingers through the condensation rolling down its sides.

"For Derya," he says simply, dripping water onto the little cubes. One flickers into a cardboard box and the other becomes a small stack of books. He picks up the box first. "She seemed to like these when she was—um. Kidnapped? Briefly?" He winces, but neither Rose nor Salim yell at him; he must not have messed up too badly, reminding them about that. "And so I—I thought she should have them."

He opens the box and swirls his fingertips in the air above it so the spheres inside rise and twirl into the air. Rose makes an interested sound and Salim says, "Oh, wow," so Megamind grins and shows off just a little, pulling them spinning after his hands, up his arms and around behind his back before finally bringing them to whirl in tight spirals between his palms so he can bring them all to Derya. It makes his arm and shoulder twinge a little, but it's worth it for the way she crows and swipes at them, lunging to catch one.

"Oh good job!" Megamind exclaims, immediately. "Well done! You caught it, that's fantastic, good job!"

"Bbrrbrbbbrb," says Derya, gumming it. Megamind laughs.

"And these," he says, picking up the little stack of books and passing two of them to Rose and two to Salim.

"Quantum Physics for Babies," says Rose. "Quantum Entanglement for Babies?"

"And General Relativity for Babies, and Rocket Science for Babies," Salim says. Chuckling, he looks at Megamind. "You may be setting your sights a little high, with these."

"Oh, I don't know," Megamind says. He appears to be doing some kind of sleight-of-hand thing with Derya's set of nesting cups. "They're pretty easy to grasp. Simplified, yes, but—the explanations are solid."

Roxanne, who has claimed Quantum Physics, says, "Okay…'This is a ball. This ball has energy.' Huh." A minute later, she groans. Megamind looks up, concerned. "Is that—oh, is that how electrons change orbitals! That's—god! Was that so hard? Mr. Krieder? Was that so hard to explain?"

Rose is laughing and thumbing through her other book. "Ah, yes, and that's how photons propagate as particles," she says. "We seem to be covering that in Quantum Entanglement. Is there an order we should read these?"

Megamind shrugs. "Unclear. I think they're written to stand alone, but one might offer insight into another." He smiles. "I just thought…well, you're never too young to start! I was learning the basics of these things around her age, after all."

Roxanne grins down at him as Salim laughs at something in Rocket Science. "Megamind, you're a supergenius from another world."

"What difference does that make?" He shakes his huge head. "I still learn the way human children do. I have an easier time drawing conclusions, making connections, but—with the right explanations, anyone can do what I do."

Present tense, Roxanne thinks. I still learn the way human children do. And oh, now that she's looking, she can see—

Megamind, eyes wide, wondering at the grasshopper on his thumb, studying the tadpole in his hands, asking about the berries he found. Megamind, announcing his plans for the city with enthusiasm and quickly explaining the leaps and bounds of logic behind his machines. Megamind, beaming with delighted excitement as Roxanne laid out her theories about the invisible car, years ago.

Derya, eyes wide, reaching for the floating balls so she can touch them, taste them, learn about them. Derya, banging two cups together to see if she can make them fit.

Like recognizes like, she thinks, fondness swelling in her.

"Anyway," he says, getting to his feet, "I—fffff, ow." He pauses, presses a hand to his hip. Roxanne starts to rise, wearing an expression of concern, but Megamind waves his other hand at her. "No, no. You sit, I'm okay."

"Are you?" she asks, as he settles gingerly down in his camp chair. He nods.

"Oh, yes. Don't worry about me. Sometimes when I stand up too quickly, my hip—well." He sends her a rueful smile and stretches his leg out, hopes she can't see him hiding his wince. "Another old wound. But I'm okay."

Derya goes down in her little carry-cot after dinner, and she falls asleep pretty quickly despite the new environment. Rose and Salim have also brought a zippered bag made of fine mosquito netting, to put the cot in so the biting insects can't get to their daughter.

Roxanne sits back in her chair beside the fire they've built on the beach, smiling to herself. She really could not have asked for a better day. Hot but not muggy, sunny and breezy enough to keep biting insects at bay until well into evening. Dinner was delicious. The salad didn't wilt in the cooler. Rose built the fire as the day began to cool into evening, and Roxanne moved Megamind's chair so it faced the lake, and he didn't even question it. He drank his nectar-poison concoction and Rose and Salim politely didn't mention it.

And now he's laughing and fumbling with his hands as Salim, also laughing, attempts to teach him chords on the guitar he brought, and Rose and Roxanne are roasting marshmallows and chatting quietly about nothing in particular, and everything is perfect.

"Okay, okay—so if I—whoops, nope, that wasn't it—heh—oh!"

"Yeah! Yeah, there it was, now just scooch your ring and pinkie finger—nope, you lost it."

The crickets are singing, and some katydids in the trees. Frogs in the reeds and rushes on either side of the little beach. Roxanne glances sideways, checking…yes. She's pretty sure most of the fireflies are out, at this point. Michigan isn't known for having lots of fireflies, but they've got a fair few.

Good.

Finally Megamind heaves a huge, fake sigh and hands Salim his guitar. "No," he says, grinning, "you should handle the music, I think. But thank you! That was interesting."

Here's her opportunity. She stands up and comes around the fire to stand in front of Megamind. "Hey," she says, reaching down with both hands. He startles and blinks down at them, then up at her. "Stand up for a sec? And, um, close your eyes?"

He still looks very taken aback, but after a second, he shuts his eyes and allows Roxanne to take his black-gloved hands and tug him to his feet.

"Okay, keep them closed…"

"Where are we going?"

"Not far," Roxanne says. "Just away from the fire for a sec. Stand here…" She leads him to the edge of the water, so he can hear it lapping at the sand, and then she turns him to face the forest with her hands on his thin shoulders. For a moment, she stands, marveling at the twinkling light show, herself. This really is the perfect evening for this.

Finally she swallows and steps back. "Okay," she says again. "Open your eyes."

A moment later, Megamind sucks in a breath. Roxanne bites her lip, hoping this was a good idea, praying this wasn't completely misguided and she hasn't blown everything and offended him by trying to show him this.

Megamind presses the fingertips of both hands to his lips and doesn't say anything, but under the light of the almost-full moon, Roxanne can see how huge his eyes are.

After a few seconds, she quietly clears her throat. "There's…no real beach, so no wrack line," she says, quiet. "And, and it's not particularly windy. But we do have fireflies, here, and I thought…I thought maybe you might like to see them."

Megamind snaps a hand down and gropes blindly for her arm, then seizes her hand in a grip like steel. Squeezes.

Relieved, Roxanne squeezes back. "You do like them, then," she says, and Megamind nods hard.

Roxanne looks at him for a moment, at this man from another planet trapped here and forced to raise himself on an alien world, far from anything his family and forefathers would ever have recognized—but there are some things, small things, like the fireflies and coral reefs, that might be similar.

Megamind's grip has not relaxed at all. "You okay?" Roxanne asks.

"I don't know," he whispers, taking his other hand from his mouth and shoving it against his chest, instead. He swallows hard, an audible gulp, and she realizes how shallow his breathing is. "I'm—I don't—Miss Ritchi, I—I mean Roxanne, um—"

She swallows. "Sometimes," she says carefully, "friends cry on each other. Just to throw that out there. As, as a random, non-specific fun fact. Apropos of nothing."

Megamind makes a sound like a wounded thing and turns toward her, pulls her close and pushes his face down against her shoulder as Roxanne wraps her arms around his back. He's shaking.

"Okay," she says, and tips her head to rest her cheek on his temple. He smells like leather and almonds—it's a strange combination, but not a bad one. "It's okay."

"Sor-sorry," he gasps, his breath cool against her throat, his hands pressed to her back. "It's—it's just—they're—" He cuts himself off, then gulps and hauls his head up, turns it to look at the glimmering forest again. Roxanne moves with him a little so they can both look sideways without straining. "They're beautiful. They're so—they are so beautiful; they look like—thank you. For bringing me here, thank you. For—for tonight. For today. Thank you."

And Roxanne thinks, Well…crap.

Yeah, so, Rose was not wrong, earlier. Roxanne already sort of knew it, of course, but…

She wasn't lying when she said she was assuming she and Megamind were friends. But here, now, with her arms around him at this lake, listening to his choked voice say thank you for tonight—apparently she feels quite a bit more for Megamind than just friendship.

"Of course," she says. "You're so welcome, Megamind. And we can come back anytime."

"—Anytime," he echoes, wistful. "Can we?"

"Of course," she tells him again. "The fireflies are seasonal, they're summer insects, but yeah, we can come back here whenever you like." She leans her head gently against his and feels his arms go tight around the small of her back. She wasn't planning on offering this, offering whenever you like, but she's just figured out what she wants the rest of her life to look like, and apparently there's a lot of blue in it. "So, you don't have to feel melancholy about this. Okay? We're going to do this again, sometime. Maybe just us, maybe with Rose and Salim again, maybe with Minion. Okay?"

After a long, long moment, Megamind swallows. "I'd like that," he murmurs.

"And Derya will be walking, next summer," Roxanne says. "Maybe you can start to teach her to swim."

Megamind's breathing changes, but all he says is, "I want—" and then he cuts himself off.

"You can," Roxanne tells him, when he doesn't say anything else. "I think that would be fun, don't you?"

He nods.

Megamind cries himself to sleep that night. He doesn't even know why; his whole mind is a tangle of confusion. Mourning the childhood he didn't get to have? Mourning the future he won't get to see?

He wants—

He wants. Megamind hasn't wanted anything beyond his publicly-stated goals in ages. Wanting implies a future in which something might be attained, and that—that isn't something he ever thought he would—

—he can't see that future, where Derya is walking and Megamind is teaching her to swim and Roxanne is smiling at him in the water; he can't see it and he wants to. He wants to see it so badly it feels like something in his chest is physically ripping in half, and he can't.

He used to have a future, he's pretty sure. For a while. There was a period of time in his twenties when he imagined he might make it to thirty.

And then the thing with his eye happened, and his broken hip. His arm. Megamind has shied away from thinking about the future, since then. He knows what his future is. He knows he doesn't have one. He can't possibly make it to forty, and he's okay, he's okay with that. Really.

But, god, does he want to. When did that happen?

Chapter Text

It's Friday afternoon, again, and Roxanne is playing with Derya at her apartment a month or so after their trip out to Star Lake. It really is just easier, this way—Salim can drop Derya off on his way to Jum'ah and get some breathing room for a while, have some alone time at home to get some work and maybe some cleaning done, and Roxanne gets to work from home and play with her niece. Eventually, Derya will go to the mosque with her father and grandparents, and occasionally to church with her mother, but probably not before she turns one.

Which Roxanne is not complaining about at all.

Derya can roll over in either direction and she's almost beginning to crawl, now. She pushes herself around with her legs, sort of on her hands. She's figuring it out. No teeth, yet, but she's still gumming everything she can get her hands on; Roxanne's apartment is the tidiest it has ever been as a result.

"Yes!" she exclaims, rolling a ball gently over to her niece and applauding when the baby grabs it and pushes it away. "Yes, that's so good! You got it! Try again?"

And there's. A knock at the door. The balcony door. Three sharp taps.

Roxanne sits up and looks over, and—

Wearing an awkward smile, Megamind waves at her through the glass. Roxanne's heart leaps in a way it never used to, before; she's noticed that a few times since their trip out to the lake and it still throws her every time. But right, that's right: Rose did tell him every Friday, didn't she? Well, Roxanne isn't complaining about that, either.

"Hey, you," she exclaims, opening the door and waving him inside. "Come on in! What are you doing here?"

He ducks inside, fidgeting. "I, ah," he says, "I am having some problems with, with this next…plan. And Minion suggested I take a break, and I don't usually do breaks but—but I remembered, you babysit? On Fridays? And I wondered if, um. If I could come over. I texted," he adds, "but I think you were probably preoccupied." He grins down at Derya, who's sitting up and pushing some kind of cuboid toy across her play mat.

"You can always come over," Roxanne tells him warmly. "Megamind, you're always welcome. And I promise not to be insulted if you're just here for the baby."

He flushes. "Not just the baby," he says, sending a crooked sort of grin at Roxanne. Her heart does a little flip. "Your apartment also has some lovely houseplants."

She laughs. "Ah, you've fallen for my aloe," she teases. "I see. Well, make yourself at home! How was prison?"

He makes a face. "Boring," he says, taking off his shoes. "As always. But they revamped my biosign monitors, which provided a mild challenge." He sits down on Roxanne's floor and Derya greets him with a smile and a little shriek. "Look at you!" he exclaims. "Look at you, sitting up so straight! You aren't a wobble-baby at all anymore!"

Derya replies with a long string of nonsense syllables, and Megamind laughs.

"Yes, I'm sure it is very exciting! Soon you'll be crawling!"

It's funny, Roxanne thinks, how much more he's smiling, these days. He still seems more or less chipper and enthusiastic when he's mid-scheme, and he's still kidnapping her with almost the same frequency as usual. But he relaxes, when he's at her apartment with Derya, in a different way than he relaxes at Evil Lair. And he talks to Roxanne now without getting stiff and suspicious as soon as he realizes he's said something she could potentially use against him.

He trusts her, she realizes when he turns up the Friday after that and offers to make tea because Roxanne can't stop yawning. He's standing at her sink, filling the kettle with his back to her, and his face is fully relaxed and sort of smiling when he turns around, and Roxanne thinks—oh my god, he trusts me.

And it's not an entirely new development, she realizes. Even months ago, when he met Derya for the first time, he left his protective spikes at home and he didn't flee at the first sign of danger—he had his hand on his gun and he was tense with alarm, but he waited, because Roxanne asked him to let her explain.

She sees more of Megamind now than anyone except her coworkers, and somehow it still isn't enough. And seeing him with Derya is…

Roxanne has never fantasized about being a mother, or having a baby. She doesn't mind the idea; she has no objections; parenthood has just never called to her the way it always seemed to call Rose and Salim. But watching Megamind with Derya, she finds herself more relaxed about the idea of babies than she's ever been before. He would be a good dad, she thinks—and then of course she scolds herself, because really, she has no business thinking anything like that. They aren't together. She knows he cares for her, knows he trusts her. But she doesn't know more than that, not for sure.

Still. He really is wonderful with the baby.

"She's getting a little bit of separation anxiety," Roxanne tells Megamind when he shows up again a couple weeks later. She's sitting on her sofa, watching him fiddle with a Rubik's cube as Derya bangs some measuring cups together. "She's still okay with me once Salim is gone for a little while, but she cries when he leaves, now."

Megamind makes a sympathetic sound. "That sounds difficult."

"It's pretty normal, apparently," Roxanne says, "but it still hurts."

He looks up. "She loves you, though," he offers. "You know she does."

Roxanne smiles at him. "I know," she says. "It just takes her a few minutes to remember, sometimes." She hesitates. "Can I ask—did you ever experience anything like that?" she asks. He's mentioned things from when he was a baby before. "Do you remember why?"

Megamind glances up, then looks away again. He's quiet for a while. Finally, he says, "I did. Yes. But my reasons were different. I was…well, you know. I left home at eight days old."

"Fear of being abandoned?" Roxanne hazards.

Megamind doesn't look up. "Not…abandoned implies intent? I think? I was sent away to save my life. And Minion's life." He pauses. Frowns. Then he takes a deep breath and straightens his spine, lifts his head, looks at her. "How much do you know about galactic collision?"

Startled, Roxanne has to take a moment to respond to that one. "Um…not much, I'm afraid. Did—did your galaxy—"

"Galaxies contain supermassive black holes at their centers," Megamind says, and waits for Roxanne to nod. "When two galaxies collide, one of those black holes can be jarred loose and go rogue. Move through space, engulfing matter in its path." He swallows. "Space is enormous. Incomprehensibly huge, even for my brain. Even within a galaxy. Habitable planets are rare; inhabited planets still rarer. The odds of a rogue black hole consuming an inhabited star system are," his lips twist, "astronomical. But not, unfortunately, impossible." He gestures at himself. "Exhibit A."

Roxanne's heart trips on a beat, then sinks. "A black hole?" she asks. "Did…did anyone…"

"Minion and I are all that made it off our world," he says. "As far as I know. Nothing else made it out."

She swallows. "But—the reefs, the fish—some kind of ark—"

"Minion and I," he says again, his voice heavy. "Nothing else."

Good lord. That kind of loss…it's unfathomable. A whole planet, all its people, their history and cultures and everything they've ever built—it's dizzying. "Megamind," she says, shocked. "I'm…I'm so sorry." He looks away, and she swallows. "Do you…want to talk about it? Or…"

He does actually appear to consider this. "I honestly don't know," he finally says. "I don't, usually. Talk about it." He shrugs. "Who would I talk to? Minion already knows and I doubt he wants to re-live it, and Metro Man and I don't…talk. Much. At all."

Roxanne blinks, briefly startled out of her blank shock. Why would Metro Man even be on the list of potential confidants? Her confusion must show on her face, because Megamind smiles thinly and adds, "He's from the same star system. Different planet."

"You're kidding," she says, staring at him, but Megamind shakes his head. "Wow," she says, for lack of anything better to say. "Well…if you ever do want to talk, I'm here." This feels ridiculously inadequate, but it's all she can think of. Maybe if she can get her head around it, later, she'll figure out something better, but for now this is all she's got. "I will have no idea what you're going through, what you've gone through, but…I'm here to listen, if you need me."

He looks up at her. Smiles a little. "You really are entirely too good to me, Miss Ritchi."

Roxanne wrinkles her nose at him. "This is what friends are for, Megamind."

"Like I said."

She rolls her eyes. "I like you, you silly creature," she says. "Of course I'm here, if you need me." They need a change of subject. Something cheerful. "Hey, you want to see how much of a mess Derya can make of her baby food?"

Megamind looks up, grinning.

He doesn't come the week after that, and Roxanne thinks he isn't going to. She sends Derya home with a wave and a kiss goodbye and then sets about tidying her apartment a little, putting away the baby toys she keeps for when her niece comes to visit, and then sitting down with her laptop to get a little work done before dinner.

It's getting on toward evening when there's a tap on the glass at the balcony door. It isn't sharp, this time; it's almost hesitant. Surprised, Roxanne goes and pulls the curtain back—

—and yes, there's Megamind, smiling nervously at her in the twilight. He's holding some kind of flattish box.

"You came!" Roxanne says as she opens the door. "Derya's gone home, I'm afraid."

"Yes, I lost track of time," he says. "I can go if you want me to. I don't—Minion said this would be imposing, and—but I thought, maybe—"

"No, come in, come in," Roxanne tells him, standing back and holding the door open. "I'm not doing anything this evening. What's up?" She grins. "Here to visit my aloe?"

"I brought a puzzle," he says, holding up the box. And sure, okay. Roxanne is down for puzzle time.

"I'll go clear off the dining table," she says, and his nervous smile relaxes into a relieved one.

It is immediately clear that Megamind has never done a puzzle before in his life. But Roxanne shows him: turn all the pieces right side up and find the corners and the edge pieces first, and he says, "Aha!" and goes at it with a will.

The puzzle he has is a thousand pieces, which Roxanne is unsure about—as much fun as this is turning out to be, she cannot in fact stay up all night—but it turns out not to be a problem. For one thing, this particular puzzle has a lot of colors in small blocks: an impressionistic picture of a rainy night in a park, with bright lights reflecting orange and yellow and blue and green off the leaves, and shimmering up off the path where a couple is walking close together under an umbrella. It isn't hard to see which pieces might go where, latitude-wise. Longitudinally is more of an issue for Roxanne, particularly with the trees.

But once they get the edges in place, Megamind looks at the box, looks at the rectangle in front of him, and begins slowly arranging pieces within the rectangle without connecting them to anything. Roxanne is focused on separating out pieces of the path and trying to fit them with each other when she notices he's only occasionally putting anything together.

"What are you doing?" she asks, and he pauses and blinks at her.

"Putting the pieces where they go," he says. "That's how this is done, yes? That's the objective?"

"It is," she says slowly. "But…"

"And look," Megamind says. He shows her the piece he's holding. "The green and gold here, and this line and this shadow—that's here, on the box." He taps on a section of the trees. "See?"

Roxanne squints.

"Like this," Megamind says, placing the piece on the box next to the space he's indicating. "Here."

And she can sort of see, now that the comparison is side-by-side. Still, for him to look at the box, and look at a pile of haphazard puzzle pieces, and think, ah, this goes here…

"You're staring at me," he says, sounding uncertain. "Is this not right?"

"Megamind," Roxanne says, "have I ever told you that your brain is the absolute most incredible thing I have ever seen in my life?"

Megamind's eyebrows shoot straight up his forehead and his eyes go wide, and then he turns very pink and splutters a string of incoherent nonsense, a bunch of broken-together syllables like he's just tried to say four things at once and failed at all of them. Roxanne reaches out and pats his shoulder and he shuts up, staring at her.

"I just mean," she says, feeling her own ears heat at how obviously flustered he is—she didn't mean to make him look so unsettled, but she can't say she's sorry she did— "It is a privilege to watch you think."

He rips his gaze away from her face and stares down at the puzzle in front of him. Roxanne has seen him blush before, a few times, but she has never seen his ears this particular shade of fuschia.

"Thanks," he says, a moment later, sounding strangled. "I'm—your brain is—also—yes."

Roxanne isn't sure about that one. She's only human, and far from brilliant by her own standards. So she laughs a little, and shakes her head, and goes back to the puzzle.

A couple minutes later, Megamind clears his throat. "Roxanne, can I ask you something?" he says. "Um. It's—I have always wondered, and—maybe I can ask you? Maybe you know."

"Sure," Roxanne tells him, surprised. "What's up?"

"I saw some pictures, once," Megamind says, "when I was a child. One of my teachers had them in a folder. Simple pictures—a bird, a dragon, two sharks. An airplane. Nothing special. They were shaded strangely, sort of fuzzy? They had no outlines. And the way they were colored was strange, too; the background sort of…bent around them? And through them, at the same time. They were camouflaged, almost. Everything was very bright, tight patterns. Computer-generated, I think."

Roxanne nods slowly, trying to picture this. "Okay…"

"My classmates had difficulty seeing them," Megamind says, frowning. He moves a couple pieces around on the puzzle, adjusts their placement slightly. Connects a couple. "I didn't ask, I knew not to ask that sort of thing, by then, but—do you know what those were?"

She frowns. Absently hands him the patch she's pieced together so he can put it where it goes in the puzzle, and starts slowly assembling the rainy path. "I'm not sure," she says, finally. "When you say they had difficulty, what do you mean?"

"A few of my classmates couldn't see them at all," Megamind says. "And the ones who could, had to stare. They held the pictures very close to their faces and then moved them away. Sometimes they did this more than once? Do you—"

"Oh, Magic Eye!" Roxanne exclaims. Megamind sits up a little.

"You do know what that is, then," he says. "My uncles had no idea what I was talking about."

She pauses, sidetracked. "Uncles?" she repeats. "I didn't…you have family on Earth?"

"The men who raised me," he says. "Inmates at the Prison for the Criminally Gifted. They didn't know what I meant."

"Well," Roxanne says, "depending on when they entered the prison, I'm not surprised. I think autostereograms only hit the US in the early 1990s."

Megamind nods. "I was in high school," he says, "yes. Yes! Autostereograms," he says. "Magic Eye."

"I don't know how they're made," Roxanne says, pitching her tone apologetic. "I just know that's what they're called."

"That is more than enough for me to go on," Megamind tells her. "Autostereogram. Fantastic. One mystery solved, finally."

"And you could just…look at these pages and see the picture?" Roxanne asks, fascinated. So it's not just his mind, then; it's his eyes, too. "At a glance?"

He nods again. "No one else could," he says. "I pretended, when it was my turn."

That's sad, Roxanne thinks. That he needed to hide, that way. It sounds like a neat talent. Still, she gets it—showing off doesn't win you any friends when everyone already thinks you're a know-it-all.

"You really were raised by the inmates, then?" she asks. School didn't like me, either, Megamind said once, and she can't imagine he's eager to go too in-depth on the subject, so Roxanne focuses on the other thing she's just learned. "I thought that was just a rumor; I assumed it was the warden there who brought you up. He's certainly protective enough."

Megamind hesitates, but he sends her a small smile. "Warden Jim did his best when he could," he says. "He still does. But by the time he found out about me, I was already quite firmly attached to Mitch and Guduza. And they had some…concerns, about what might happen to a pair of alien infants if news of our presence got out and we were accessible at, say, a house. Rather than a prison." His expression darkens. "Concerns that turned out not to be unfounded," he adds. "Prison really was the safest place for me."

"Huh." She isn't sure what to say to that. This isn't an interview, after all; if it was, she could have probably come up with at least three leading questions just based on 'concerns' alone, but—this is just a conversation. What kind of childhood must that have been, Roxanne has to wonder.

"And I learned a lot," Megamind offers. "They took care of me. I was okay." She looks up, and he grins at her. "You looked worried," he says. Then he glances down. "That piece you're holding doesn't go anywhere near there. Sorry."

Startled, Roxanne laughs. "Okay, Puzzle Master," she says, sliding it over, "you put it where it goes, then."

He does so, still grinning.

"I'm glad you came over," Roxanne tells him. "It's been ages since I've done a puzzle."

Megamind nods. "Yes, I—" He reaches for a piece at approximately the same time Roxanne does, and immediately jerks away.

"Oh, here," she says, handing it to him and smiling and wondering what the heck kind of Lady and the Tramp turn her life is taking, these days. Megamind's cheeks are pink again. "Didn't mean to steal it out from under you."

Megamind takes it, quiet, and fits it into a space between two other pieces, locks the three of them together.

"Yes," he says, after a while. "Yes, thank you for letting me visit. I was…I wasn't having a good night." He looks up, smiles at her from under his eyelashes. "This is helping."

Two Fridays later, Megamind's phone pings at him, and he glances down at it, then frowns. Need you to come over, Roxanne says. ASAP. Sorry.

Which sounds like something is wrong. Megamind is working, but that's okay; he can come back to the power cells for his robo-sheep later. He goes to put on clothes instead of his leathers, buzzes Minion on his watch to let him know where he's going, and then he shrugs into the jet pack and takes off.

The balcony door is unlocked when Megamind arrives, and Derya is crying. "I know," Roxanne is saying, her voice scratchy, "I know, sweetie, but I don't want you to get sick. I know, baby. I'm sorry. Megamind will—"

"Roxanne?" Megamind asks. She's sitting on the sofa, bundled up in her thick winter bathrobe. "What's wrong?"

As soon as she looks over at him, he sees exactly what's wrong. Her eyes are glassy and her cheeks are bright red, flushed with fever.

"I woke up with a little bit of a sore throat," she says, plaintive, "and I thought I was fine. I thought it was allergies. And then I got a headache, and that just happens sometimes. But then the last hour just…I don't know what's happening; I've never felt this awful; everything is achy and I'm so cold and my head hurts and my neck hurts and Derya wants held but I don't want to get her sick and I don't know what to do—" She's all but crying by the time she cuts herself off.

Megamind comes forward and scoops Derya up into his arms. "Shhhh," he says, tipping his head forward and nuzzling her, bouncing her. "Shhh, it's okay, sweetheart, you're okay. What's the matter? Oh, you're thirsty. We'll fix it.

"Roxanne, go to bed," he adds. "Your body is fighting something and it can't do that effectively when you're trying to stay awake."

"Are you sure?" She sounds very hopeful. "I—I can stay up, if you need me to. I just need someone else to handle her. I don't know what this is; she's vaccinated for flu but—"

"Go to bed," he says, turning and arranging his eyebrows into what he knows is a truly fearsome-looking scowl at her. "Go to bed and go to sleep. Derya and I will be fine. We'll play with her toys and read books. I know how to feed her and I know how to change her, and I know which cries mean what. Go to sleep."

Roxanne nods and stands up slowly, hunching her shoulders. "Okay," she says, hugging herself and shivering. She does not appear to have been at all fazed by his glare. "Thank you. I'm so sorry."

"That is quite all right, Miss Ritchi," he says, shaking his head. "Get some rest."

Roxanne nods again and stumbles away to collapse into bed.

She doesn't have any dreams that she can remember, but she stays dead asleep for far longer than she was expecting to. It's fully dark outside when she wakes up, bundled under her blanket and comforter and still wrapped in her bathrobe and two pairs of wool socks. She is sweatier than she has ever been in her life.

Slowly, she sits up. She…huh.

She feels completely fine. The pounding headache from earlier is gone, the shakes are gone, and she's not freezing cold anymore. She has no sore throat, no congestion. No cough, she realizes as she takes a deep breath. She feels a little weak on her feet, but that can be attributed to not having eaten lunch or dinner before she passed out.

She changes into dry pajamas and clean socks. She'll take a shower in the morning. For now, she'll just…microwave some soup. Chicken broth, or something.

She shuffles out to her kitchen and she's just pulled a can of chicken stock out of the cupboard when a sound from her living area makes her jump and look over.

Megamind has just pushed himself up on his elbows on the couch, Roxanne's throw blanket slipping down onto the floor. "Roxanne?" he says, sitting the rest of the way up and squinting at her, blinking against the kitchen lights. One of his pupils reflects the light like a cat's, a hollow green-yellow mirror.

For a second, she thinks something happened with Derya and the baby is also spending the night—but no, no; Salim must have picked her up as usual. And Megamind—Megamind must have—

"You stayed," she says, dumbfounded. "You didn't have to do that."

He frowns and stretches a little, then gets stiffly to his feet. "You had a fever," he says. "Don't be ridiculous; of course I stayed. And don't worry," he adds, coming into the kitchen. "Derya was fine. She was just thirsty when I came over. We had some water and we had a diaper change and we had lunch, and we played for a while and then Salim came and picked her up. Put that away." He takes the can out of Roxanne's unresisting hands and puts it back in the cupboard, nodding at her kitchen island with the tall chairs. "Go sit, I'll heat you up some soup."

"But that was soup," Roxanne says, as she goes and sits. She feels fine, physically, but mentally she's still fairly out of it.

"Minion's soup," Megamind says, removing a two-quart container of something brownish and noodly from the refrigerator. "He brought some over earlier while you were asleep. It is far superior to canned cooking stock."

Roxanne could cry. She was having the worst afternoon, she was frantic and tired and feverish and scared of infecting her infant niece with some unknown illness, and Megamind came just when she needed him and he took over and helped and he's still here, still helping, and Minion brought her soup and Roxanne just…she wants to thank them, but Minion doesn't have a phone and Megamind doesn't like being thanked. She wants to tell Megamind she loves him, but she has no idea how he'll react to that, and she's still trying to get her head around it, herself.

She climbs back out of her chair and taps him on the shoulder. He pauses, puts down the ladle he's been using to transfer soup from the container to the pot he's put on her stove. "Hmm?" he says. And then, "Oh—" as she wraps her arms around his back and tucks her face against his shoulder.

He stands with his arms away from his body for a moment, frozen, but—then he hugs her back. Strokes her damp hair with his fingertips.

Roxanne squeezes him, hard, with both fists clenched against his narrow back, before she releases him and steps away. "You're a good friend," she says. "I'm glad you stayed. You didn't have to."

He flaps a hand at her, but he's hiding a smile, she can tell. "Go sit," he says again. "I don't mind. I always love visiting with Derya, you know that. And you have lots of books; I can't remember the last time I was able to just sit and read. It was nice." He grins over his shoulder at her. "I checked on you a few times and I don't think you moved at all after you got into bed. How are you feeling? Better, I assume."

"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I feel great, actually. I have no idea what that was. That was bizarre."

He hums. "That was an effective fever response," he says. "That's how fevers are supposed to work. They're supposed to burn the infection out of you."

She shakes her head, amazed. "Well," she says, "I just hope Derya doesn't get sick with whatever I had. Or…what I almost had, I guess? I don't even know."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Megamind says. "She's had her vaccines, and I washed her washable toys after you went to bed. And then I…also washed Derya. Just in case. We had a good time playing in your sink."

Roxanne laughs a little. "Really?"

He nods. "I thought of it while I was washing her toys, and once the diaper was already off, I figured, what the heck, why not. So I got the baby shampoo from your bathroom and we splashed around in some soapy water in your sink for a while, and then I rinsed her off. I don't know if that was the right move, but she had fun."

"I'm sorry I missed it," Roxanne says. The mental image is certainly adorable. "God. I'm…I am so glad you were checking your phone. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"It was my pleasure." He pours the soup into two large bowls, then sits down next to Roxanne at the island. "I wasn't initially planning on visiting today, but I'll never complain about baby time."

Roxanne tips her upper body sideways and leans her head against his shoulder for a moment, then starts in on her soup.

Chapter Text

Today is not a good day.

Everything is going wrong. And not even in some big way that Megamind could feel really cathartically upset about; it's all just horrible little things. The zipper on his most comfortable set of leathers is broken, for no apparent reason. He tore the buckle off of one of his gloves. To help himself feel better, he went to go get the last of the Froot Loops in his favorite bowl—and he dropped it on the floor and now there are no more Froot Loops and his favorite bowl is in two pieces and there is going to be a milk-stain on Minion's good tablecloth. Minion will be able to get the mark out, no problem, but Megamind will still be able to smell the milk on the lace for the next two months. Megamind does not like milk-smell.

And then he went to go and brainstorm and nothing caught him. Nothing. He has ideas, but they are all boring and he hates them. It's been ages since he's had anything really big and showy.

He glances over the short list he's managed to come up with. Hmmm. Battlesuit with a giant claw sounds good. Or, it should sound good. Megamind is pretty sure he should be all about a battlesuit with a giant claw.

But it just feels…flat. Most things have, lately.

And to top it all off, rain is coming, which means Megamind's hip keeps twinging. It's not even that painful, it's just annoying. He really needs to replace the damned thing; it's only a matter of time before it trips him up during a fight and gets him killed. But he doesn't actually want to replace it, because that will hurt, because anesthesia only sort of works for Megamind and every time he starts trying to think about developing an alternative he winds up feeling sick and panicky because—because of reasons—

—and then of course he was thinking about it, so of course he couldn't think about anything else for a while, so he went down to the reef pool to go hide under the water and soothe himself with the pressure and the corals and the clicks of the fish around him…only to remember that he's still in freshwater mode. And if he breathes saltwater like this without returning to equilibrium in freshwater afterwards, he will hurt himself.

So he thought, well, maybe Lake Michigan. But everything in him rebelled against that because what he wants is to be back on Star Lake with Roxanne and her family, weeks ago—and that is a useless-pointless-stupid thing to want; the science is impossible—

—and then he went back to bed because everything was terrible.

The shrieking jingle of his cell phone makes him jump awake with a shout a few hours later. What? What? What is—what's—

He scrabbles around for the little black rectangle, knocks it off his nightstand, and falls out of bed trying to catch it. Well done, Megamind. He is the epitome of grace and beauty.

The phone stops ringing before he can fish it out from under his bed, so he checks his call logs, and—

Oh. That's. That's Rose's phone number. Why would Rose be calling him?

A pang of fear runs through him. Roxanne. Something has happened to Roxanne—

—No, no. Rose wouldn't call him about that. Why would Rose call him about that.

He hits redial and Rose answers on the second ring. "Megamind, hey," she says, before he can issue any kind of greeting or ask why she called. She sounds frazzled. "I need you to kidnap my baby again."

He blinks. Perks up a little. "What?"

She laughs, still sounding very out of it. "Yeah, sorry, I thought that would be funny but I guess—look, Annie just got called out on a last-minute thing so she can't babysit, and our other usual sitter isn't picking up her phone, and I have to go to work, so—so I was wondering if Derya could maybe spend the evening with you, if you aren't busy? I have a night shift tonight and Salim's on-site and won't get off work for another four hours, so—"

"Of course," Megamind says, standing up and dusting himself off and striding out of his bedroom. "Of course, yes, absolutely. Do you need me to come pick her up?"

"That would be excellent," she says, sounding very relieved. "Can you be here soon?"

"Absolutely," Megamind says again, catching the keys one of the brainbots drops for him. "Yes. Ten minutes."

"Thanks," Rose says, and hangs up.

It does not occur to Megamind to think about how supremely bizarre this whole situation actually is until he turns left into Rose and Salim's neighborhood. He's—he's Megamind; he's the city's supervillain—and he's being called upon to babysit? What?

And Rose was not happy with him the last time Derya wound up in Evil Lair. Megamind has been operating under the regretful assumption that that would, in fact, be the only time he would ever see Derya on his own turf. But now Rose is asking him to come and take Derya for a while, and this is…Megamind isn't sure what this is, but he is excited about it. This is good! This is exciting.

Also scary. Evil Lair is still very much not designed for babies.

He pulls up in front of Rose and Salim's row home and into a serendipitous parking space, puts his blinkers on, then hops out and jogs up to the door. He's in his leathers; he didn't even think to get into regular clothes until he was on the road; he can't afford to have anyone call the cops on him like this. But he isn't wearing his shoulder array or his gloves. Hopefully that will count for something.

Rose lets him in as soon as he knocks. "Hey," she says, relief warm in her voice, "hey, holy granola, thank you so much for coming."

"Don't thank me," Megamind says flatly, irritation flaring, but Rose just rolls right on past that.

"She just woke up from her nap, so I think if you feed her when you get home that will establish some familiarity. Here's her bag—oh, actually, the twins can take that—Phobos, Deimos—yes, good! you're both so good—and I'll get the car seat and you carry Derya—"

Which is how Megamind winds up standing on the sidewalk holding a baby upright against his shoulder while the child's mother straps the car seat into the back of the invisible car. The twins are already whirring contentedly in the front passenger seat.

"Okay, let me take her," Rose says, turning, and Megamind passes her off so she can go into the car seat. "Yes," Rose says, her tone bright and cheerful as she buckles Derya in. "Yes, you're going to visit with Uncle Megamind! You get to go see Uncle Megamind! Megamind, thanks again," she adds over her shoulder as she gently pries Derya's hands away from her long hair. "I am so sorry about the short notice. She'll settle down soon, it's just some separation anxiety." Derya has begun to cry. "Annie's probably told you."

"Oh, yes, it's not a problem," he replies, still sort of amazed this is happening and reeling so hard at Uncle Megamind that he entirely forgets to be upset at the implication that any of his actions might be in any way worthy of gratitude. "And—anytime. I am happy to take her anytime; she's a joy, truly."

Rose straightens, flipping her ponytail back over her shoulder. "Okay! Her things are in the bag, the book with her routines is on top. Text or call if there's an emergency, but I think you should be fine! Hey," she adds, putting a hand on his thin shoulder and pulling him into a quick hug. "Don't look so scared. You'll do great. She loves you."

Petrified despite her reassurance, he nods. Most of what Megamind does ends in horrible failure. Horrible failure applied to babies generally means bad things for babies. But. He can do this! He can do this. He babysat for her before, a little, and it went okay.

His day is looking up, finally.

Uncle Megamind, he thinks as he climbs into the car and drives away at exactly the speed limit, using his turn signals and obeying all posted signage. Uncle Megamind.

If his eyes get a little bit misty about it, if he has to wipe his face on the back of his hand as he drives, well…no one is around to see.

He can do this. He can totally do this.

"I can't do this," he cries at Minion, two hours later. Derya is wailing on his shoulder. Megamind has tried feeding her, changing her, giving her water. Giving her her nook, which is just dangling from its clip on her shirt. "I can't do this! I know how she cries and this is new, she isn't crying about anything I know what to do with, I—I tried everything anyway and I just don't know what's wrong!"

Minion nods at him sympathetically as he finishes dialing, then turns away a little.

"—Yes, good evening, Warden, this is Minion calling, how are you? —Yes, it's a baby, she—of course not, ha ha, just babysitting for, um, for a, a friend? Only she's crying kind of a lot and it's not a cry we've heard before; I know this is terribly irregular but if we could please speak to Uncle Mitch or Uncle Guduza…?

"The infirmary? What happened, is he okay?

"Oh, oh that's good, thank goodness. Yes, I'll tell him, thank you for letting me know. Yes, you too. Give him our love.

"Hi, Uncle Mitch, it's Minion! Oh, I'm fine, but I…yes, that's a baby. Miss Ritchi's niece. She won't stop crying and we aren't sure why, we've tried everything we can think of and she won't stop, so we hoped maybe you would… No, she doesn't have a fever…oh, I'm not sure. I'll ask, hang on—" He turns to Megamind, who's still bouncing Derya on his shoulder despite her high-pitched wailing. "How old is she?"

"Seven months," says Megamind. "Shh. Corazoncita, estrellita, baby, it's okay. Derya, mi vida, sweetheart, you're okay, shhh."

Minion relays this information, then pauses. "Oh!" He moves, tilts himself in his dome to peer at Derya's face. "No, not that I can see. Really? Really, oh that's interesting. Okay! And what can we…? Okay. Yes. Thank you, we will definitely give that a try!"

He ends the call and turns to Megamind. "She's teething," he says, sounding immensely relieved. "It's a pain-cry; she's in pain, Sir. That's why none of the distractions are working. It's nothing to do with you. Uncle Mitch says lots of cuddles, and massaging her gums with something cool should help—he suggested a damp chilled rag. Or your hands might be cold enough, Sir."

Megamind's bewildered, frantic expression clears and goes tentatively hopeful. "Oh! That's—was he sure? That's what this is?"

"He said seven months and inconsolable crying would be teething nine times out of ten, Sir."

Megamind breathes a sigh of relief, patting Derya gently with a long hand. "Is that what's wrong?" he hums at her, sitting her back a little in his arms. She blinks at him, hiccupping, her little face flushed and blotchy and very wet. "Are your poor teeth hurting you? Okay," he soothes as she flops onto his shoulder again and resumes crying, "okay. We'll see. Off to the kitchen we go, my love, off we go, come on…"

The gum massage does work pretty well. Derya seems appreciative, at least, leaning miserably on Megamind's chest while he rubs his cool fingertips in small circles over the skin of her gums and sings at her low in his syrinx. It seemed to help her fall asleep, at Roxanne's apartment, when he met her, and it soothed her when Roxanne was sick—it can't hurt now, can it?

"I can feel the teeth, Minion," he says, crooning deep in his subvoice. "I can feel them under her skin; they're awfully sharp. We could make something cold for her to chew—I'll see what I can put together tomorrow; I think I still have some of the blue silicone left from my spare arm…"

Minion straightens from where he's been digging in Derya's diaper bag. "I think that's probably what this is," he says, holding up a pinkish, floppy ring with little alligators printed all over it. "I think it's supposed to go in the refrigerator."

"Hmm. Can't hurt to try," Megamind says. "Could we maybe put her nook in the fridge as well?"

"Worth a shot," Minion says. "That does seem to be helping, Sir; I'm glad."

"What a mess," Megamind hums at Derya, as Minion puts the things away to chill. "What a mess, having no teeth and then having them push through your poor gums like this! I remember, now. Poor design planning on somebody's part. Yes, I know. I know. Let's go see the brainbots, hmm? Do you want to go see the brainbots in their hive? I bet they would love to show off some battle drills for you. Let's go see."

Megamind is extremely nervous about the prospect of ferrying Derya back home. Driving back to Evil Lair with her in the back seat was an exercise in anxiety. What if he hit something? What if someone hit them? What if the car broke down? What if the police tried to stop them? What if—

Anyway, by the time he arrived at Evil Lair with her, he was a nervous wreck and he already knew he did not want to drive her home and he put his foot down about Minion doing it. But both he and Minion are understandably wary of allowing Rose or Salim anywhere near Evil Lair.

They have. A conversation. Because it would make sense to ask Roxanne to pick Derya up, yes? Roxanne could come and pick up her niece when she's done with work. That sounds like a normal thing normal people might do.

But Roxanne would need a car. And, more importantly, Roxanne would need to know where Evil Lair is.

Megamind is so thoroughly out of his depth with this completely unexpected turn his life is taking that he says, Sure. Why not. Let Miss Ritchi into Evil Lair. He and Minion are working with her schedule; they're looking after a tiny and extremely vulnerable member of her family; she's not a pawn, anymore. She's something else. A friend. Might as well bring her in on the take, so to speak.

Minion is…hesitant.

It's not that he doesn't want to. It would be nice, he thinks, to have someone else around more. It would be nice to have a friend. He's surprised, in fact, at how badly he wants to just give in and agree to this and not worry about it. Miss Ritchi has never thrown Megamind to the wolves, even in the early days of their interactions with her. Even when she was still visibly and vocally unsettled at waking up in Evil Lair. And she has always seemed to enjoy talking with Minion, even in the beginning when she was still snapping at Megamind. But…

Well, he could agree to this and worry about it, couldn't he? He probably doesn't have to worry, but he can. He will, anyway, even if he thinks he probably doesn't have to.

Finally Megamind says, "Minion, look, of all the many many many things that might end with me dead, I really doubt telling Miss Ritchi where we live is one of them." And, yeah. He has a point. Besides, even if their location does get out, it isn't as though he and Megamind can't defend it. They do live with an army of semi-autonomous, highly-intelligent, razor-sharp drones, after all.

Okay.

Okay, if Megamind trusts Miss Ritchi this much, then Minion will figure it out. He wants to, anyway, and it's not like his life can get any weirder.

Roxanne sounds startled when Minion calls to ask (after he and Megamind finally get Derya settled with Megamind massaging her gums), but she's agreeable to the idea. And evidently, she's done something like this before, because she immediately explains that it's no trouble at all: Salim can pick her up on his way home, drive them both to his and Rose's house, and then Roxanne can borrow his car to come and get Derya.

Minion is so relieved that this is, in fact, a reasonable arrangement that he invites her to stay for dinner without even thinking about it. He blinks at himself a little as he hangs up the phone, but it's not a problem. He has plenty of time to run out and get extra supplies.

It's nothing against you, Roxanne texts Salim, when she finishes explaining the plan to him. They're just very careful. I've known them for going on nine years now and this will be my first time going to Evil Lair under my own steam. I'm usually either blindfolded or unconscious.

Hey, I totally get it, he replies. Don't worry, you can tell them I'm not offended :)

Minion hurries out to meet her as she parks next to what looks like a long-abandoned, decrepit power plant, its walls littered with graffiti. Including, Roxanne notes with some amusement, the words GO AWAY NO ONE LIVES HERE.

He's carrying something like a large, shimmery blanket that hurts to look at in his arms. "Here," he says, as she climbs out of the car and locks it behind her, "help me throw this over top."

It's a cloaking sheet, Roxanne discovers, as they drag the fabric up over the roof. To hide the car from view, so nobody wonders what it's doing parked out there. It's an impressive piece of technology, and completely unsurprising that Minion—who Roxanne knows is absolutely the careful one in his and Megamind's partnership—would think of it.

So the doormat reading SECRIT ENTRANCE throws her for a loop.

"Seems a little conspicuous, don't you think?" she asks, grinning quizzically up at him. Minion's fins tilt at an angle that Roxanne has learned indicates embarrassment, over the years—if he could blush, he would probably be doing so.

"I keep forgetting where it is," he admits, ushering her through the hologram and sealing the door behind them. "He keeps moving it. But I'm hoping anyone who notices will think it's just a joke, considering the graffiti."

Roxanne laughs. "So, how did it go?" she asks. "I am so sorry you guys had to step in last-minute."

Minion hums. "It…it did go well. Overall." He leads her through the main level of the lair, high-ceilinged and choked to bursting with the remains of old plots. "We had a bit of a rough start, with the teething. I ended up calling our uncle Mitch for advice and he was able to help sort it out."

"Uncle Mitch?" She glances up at him, remembering what Megamind said about his family. The name rings a bell. "One of the inmates…?"

"At the prison, yes. Mitch and his cellmate Guduza did the bulk of raising us."

Ah, yes! That was the other name. So he basically called his dads, then; that's sweet. "I've done that a couple times," Roxanne says, smiling. "Back when I was babysitting as a teenager, sometimes I would run into problems and have to call my mom or Paul. Someone with more experience."

Minion nods. "Yes. Where there's a will, there's a way, but sometimes the way involves outside counsel.

"Sir took her to see the brainbots earlier, after she calmed down, but I think after that he probably would have come in here to—oh. Um."

Minion stops walking, and Roxanne peers around him. "Awww."

Megamind's high-backed chair is fully tipped back, surrounded by dehydrated cubes. The de-gun is in Megamind's hand, trailing nearly to the floor, and Derya is bundled up warm in her cozy blanket on his chest. Megamind's other hand is splayed over her back. Both of them are out cold.

"He was so focused," Minion says in a low voice. "I haven't seen his attention so undivided on something extracurricular in years. Can I offer you some tea while I get dinner ready? We have a lovely orange clove blend I think you'll like."

"Right after I take a picture," Roxanne says, tugging out her cell phone. She's half-expecting Minion to stop her, but he just waits while she grabs a shot of the pair. "That's adorable. Anyway, yes! Orange and clove tea sounds perfect. Thank you, Minion."

He smiles. "Right this way."

"And you're sure it wasn't too much trouble," Roxanne says, as Minion bustles back and forth across the kitchen.

"Oh, not at all," he replies. "No, of course not. It was nice to see her again! I'm not quite as, ah, as baby-oriented as Sir is, but my people looked after their young the same as his did. We spawned, of course, so parentage wasn't as much of a factor, it was all very much a community effort, but. It's nice to have a little one around every now and then."

Roxanne cocks her head. "Baby-oriented," she says. "That's a good way to put it. I really wouldn't have expected him to be so…well, nurturing?"

"Neither would I." Minion laughs. "This is the most cheerful and open I've seen him in a long time. He pushes himself, you know. He knows who he is, what part he plays in all this, but it's…well. It can still be a bitter pill to take, sometimes."

Megamind does have feelings about his part to play, and Roxanne's part as well, she knows that for sure. He is constantly complaining about her refusal to play the damsel—or, he used to complain. He's mostly stopped, in recent months. "Does he want…kids, do you think?" she asks. "Of his own?"

"Oh I very much doubt it," Minion says. "He would have cloned himself ages ago, if he did." He slides a tray into the oven, then turns and tips himself sideways in his dome. "What about you, Miss Ritchi?"

She laughs. "I've…always felt pretty ambivalent," she says. "With the right person, maybe. But only if they really wanted kids."

Minion tips himself the other way, a silent question.

"I just…" Roxanne sighs. She's tried to express this a few times, over the years, to various people. It tends not to be a popular opinion. Watching Megamind with Derya has been interesting, and surprisingly reassuring in a way Roxanne isn't sure how to explain, but… "I don't feel right," she finally says, "with the idea of having a kid that I don't feel a hundred percent enthusiastic about. And I love Derya, I absolutely do, but…I also love knowing she'll go home to her parents. I love being Auntie Roxie." She frowns up at him, remembering his earlier phrasing about his own family groups. "I suppose I feel more community-minded about it, if that makes sense?" Minion gives an encouraging nod to show he's still listening, but turns away to stir something on the stove. "I love babysitting," Roxanne says. "I do like kids, and I really am happy to step in with other people's kids anytime, not just Derya. But I don't feel like I need to be a parent to be fulfilled, child-wise, so…no, I don't think I'll be having babies anytime soon.

"But I have definitely met people I could see myself having kids with," she adds, because Minion hasn't said anything and Roxanne is always a bit jittery talking about this. "Like—I thought the other night, Megamind would probably be a great parent. But I still don't have that burning desire for babies, you know? Not like my sister does, or Salim. They both want a big family, and I'm…"

"Happy to act in a supporting role? Help ease their way a little?" Minion smiles over his shoulder at her. "I understand completely, Miss Ritchi. Could you please put that colander in the sink for me?"

She blinks. But—right, that's right. This is Minion. Minion has never judged her. And Roxanne has just sort of described a minion-y role, hasn't she? Of course he would get it. She smiles back. "Thanks, Minion," she says, rising to do as he asked and then move back out of his way. Then she sniffs a little. "What are you making? Can I help with anything else? It smells amazing."

He hums. "We are having brown trout in a lemon-garlic sauce, and asparagus. And this is going to be mashed parsnips, if I can get them to cooperate," he says, and Roxanne's jaw drops. "I think they might just need to finish steaming under some kind of towel; I don't want to overcook them."

"Oh, my god," Roxanne exclaims, finding her voice. "Parsnips, really? I haven't had mashed parsnips in years, are you serious?"

Minion shrugs and moves to the sink to strain them, hiding a smile. "You mentioned, some time ago," he says, "spending summers on your grandparents' farm. And I thought I remembered something about parsnips in there, so…"

Holy shit, Roxanne doesn't even remember that conversation. She hasn't even thought about parsnips in forever. "Minion, you are wonderful," she says. "I hope you know that."

He laughs. "Oh, thank you, Miss Ritchi!" he says. "Thank you, yes. I do try."

Minion, for his part, is doubly pleased with himself. One, he correctly remembered Miss Ritchi's fondness for parsnips. The expression she wears when surprised with something positive is one Minion privately, very quietly, would like to see more often; he's glad he was able to do this for her. And two, he has managed to use said parsnips to distract her from the fact that she—apparently—views Megamind as a viable mate. Regardless of whether she actively wants children or not, she does see Megamind as a potential partner in that arena. That's big. That's huge. Minion is tentatively feeling several different kinds of hopeful about that.

But now is simply not the time to delve into that conversation. Dinner is nearly ready and the brainbots will be waking Sir soon; now is the time for light talking and pleasantries and helping Miss Ritchi feel useful, since she asked to help and seems to sympathize with certain other minionesque qualities.

"If you could bring the creme fraiche over here," he says, "that would be lovely."

"Sure," Roxanne says. She doesn't appear to suspect a thing. Perfect. They will have a nice dinner, and Minion will not freak out about Miss Ritchi knowing the location of Evil Lair because wow this actually does feel shockingly normal, and Minion will figure out what to do about the viable-mate thing later, privately.

Miss Ritchi leans gently against his arm for a moment as he works and chats animatedly with her about seasonings and herbs, and Minion feels younger than he has in years.

And oh, oh okay, watching the two of them at dinner—wow again. Something is happening there. Minion isn't sure exactly what it is, but they do seem to be—looking at each other? An awful lot? And laughing. Sir keeps glancing up at Minion and sending him little flashes of nervous are-you-seeing-this smiles, but he really does seem startlingly relaxed, all things considered.

This. This is something Minion is going to have to try to pay closer attention to.

But for now, he can sit and have dinner. Sir is happy. Miss Ritchi is also happy. Derya has her baby food and she seems content enough in spite of her soon-to-be-teeth. And this feels dangerous, it feels like it can't possibly last, but for now—just for now—Minion can sit and drag the nice moment out for as long as he can.

But it ends eventually, as most things do. Later that night, Megamind walks back up the steps of Rose and Salim's home and knocks on the door, three sharp taps. It takes a minute or so, but Salim answers.

"We left this in the refrigerator," Megamind says, holding out the alligator teething ring, before Salim can get a greeting out. Salim laughs and holds the door open.

"Aw, thanks," he says, taking the ring and standing like Megamind is supposed to go inside. "Yeah, I was wondering where that got to. Hey, c'mon in."

Slowly, Megamind steps inside.

"Derya's asleep," Salim says. "But she seemed great when Annie brought her home. I want to say thanks for stepping up, earlier, we really appreciate it."

"Don't thank me," Megamind says, on autopilot, and then he winces at how sharp that sounded. "Sorry. Just. It was nothing. A favor for a—a friend. Friends."

Salim blinks at him for a moment, then shrugs a little and claps him on the shoulder. "Well, we appreciate it," he says again. "Can I get you a snack? Something to drink? Can you stay for a minute?"

Megamind hesitates. But…

"Yes," he says. "Yes, I can. Stay. Drink. Water?"

"Water," Salim agrees, waving for Megamind to follow him toward the kitchen in the back of the house. "The best drink, truly. Hey, I'm glad you came over; I wanted to ask: do you think sitting for Derya is something you might be interested in doing again sometime?"

"That's—what?"

"We have a neighbor who watches her sometimes when Roxanne can't do it, but she's got her own little one on the way," Salim explains. "We're going to be back down to one sitter—Roxanne—within the month. You did a good job today; if you're interested in being our permanent backup sitter, we're down."

He fills up two glasses from a jug of water in the door of the fridge, hands one to Megamind, and heads back out to the living room and sits down on the sofa there.

Megamind stares at him for most of this, his heart rate picking up. What? He can—they want him to take care of Derya? More?

That's—

There's a leaping feeling inside him, a little like light and a little like the way he feels when he flings himself out of the water and into the air, when oxygen hits his lungs and his gills at the same time and he's heading for the sky. It feels—bright? Good?

But.

He swallows hard as he sits down in the armchair across the room. "I think you may have forgotten what I am."

"An alien?"

He gives Salim a very flat look, but the man doesn't appear to be laughing at him. "A supervillain," he says, and Salim's mildly confused expression clears.

"I do live in Metro City," Salim says. "Or, excuse me—Metrocity. I haven't forgotten."

Megamind frowns a little. Drops his gaze.

"But," Salim says, "you've been doing fine, so far."

"We have met once." Megamind's voice is quiet. He doesn't look up. "Barely twice."

Salim frowns at him. "I know that," he says. "But Roxanne says you've been coming over pretty regularly on Fridays when I'm at Jum'ah to hang out and help her with Derya. When she got sick wasn't the first time you were there."

Megamind presses his lips together.

"And, look," Salim says. "You were the first person Roxanne told, when she got the news. And I know, I get it," he adds quickly, when Megamind sucks in a breath and looks like he might be about to argue, "you were the first person she saw. Maybe she would have blurted it out to anybody. But she wanted to tell you we were having a girl. Not just anybody—she didn't tell anybody else; we asked her not to. She asked if she could tell you, if it would be okay. She said you and Minion were interested in how things were going."

Megamind makes a low sort of scoffing sound, and Salim feels his expression tighten. "And you made me those shirts," he says quietly. "They were fantastic. They—look, I don't usually have bad dysphoria anymore, but—pregnancy—don't get me wrong: it was worth it, and I'd do it again. But it was not a good time for me. And the shirts didn't fix it, but they helped. They really did."

"The shirts were from Minion."

"You were involved," Salim says, flat. "Annie said something about you wanting to put 'can't touch this' on them? Which, for the record—I think that's hilarious, I love it. You were involved. And you sent us that quilt and the galaxy nightlight, which are both just wonderful.

"And you—well, I'm just saying. You have been doing fine with our family so far, supervillain or not."

He stops talking, but Megamind doesn't reply. He just sits with his shoulders rounded, staring down into his water glass.

Finally Salim clears his throat. "Anyway." He sips his water, gives Megamind a frank look. "You've sat for her on your own three times now and she's come back happy and in one piece. So, yes. You are an alien and a supervillain and Rose and I would love to have you as our primary backup sitter."

"I'd like that, then," Megamind hears himself say. "I would—I would love that. To see her. More."

Salim smiles at him. "Awesome. Thanks, man."

Megamind looks away.

After a while, Salim says, "So, hey, can I ask—why villainy? We asked Annie, but she wasn't sure."

Megamind frowns and looks up. "I told Roxanne why villainy."

Salim grimaces. "Okay, so, mostly she said it was personal and she wasn't comfortable talking about it without your say-so."

Megamind frowns harder, genuinely confused in addition to being entirely out of his depth with this whole interaction. "I don't know what's personal about there's nothing else out there for me."

"Nothing else?" Salim asks, sounding startled. "Really?"

Megamind gives a sharp shrug. "I've always been destined for this," he says, taking a breath and leaning back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. "I was a difficult child. I am a difficult adult."

Salim blinks. "You seem pretty chill to me," he says, but Megamind just huffs a short laugh and shakes his head. "…Do you like being a supervillain?"

"It's engaging. Allows me to stretch my mind. The expected lifespan isn't great, but," Megamind shrugs again, "that comes with the territory. I'm on an alien world; my life was never going to be very long. Frankly I'm amazed I've made it as far as I have." He pauses. "Being a supervillain, being evil…that's just who I am." He offers up a smile, but he isn't sure if it reaches his eyes or not. Between the awful beginning to his day and his laser-sharp but exhausting focus on Derya in the evening, he's tired.

"I don't think that's right," Salim says, staring. Megamind peers at him, wary. "I—okay, obviously you're the expert on you. But being a supervillain is just what you do, right? That's not who you are. You aren't evil, you just…do evil. As your job."

"I don't see a difference." Megamind sips his water and tries to blank himself, but he mostly fails. Strange—that's usually easier to do when he's tired, like this.

Salim is quiet for a long moment, frowning, with a sort of perplexed expression on his face.

"Okay, so, the way I see it…what you do," he finally says, speaking slowly, "your actions follow who you are. Your actions follow your intentions." (And oh, great, this will be fun. Listening to this while fully present. Megamind isn't—he isn't entirely sure he can handle—) "They affect each other; you can't have a total disconnect. That's why you picked the standards you did, you know? Rose and I were talking the other night, and honestly, I don't think I'd call you 'evil' as much as 'antiestablishment.'" He sounds almost apologetic, and totally oblivious to Megamind's discomfort. "But, yeah, like I said—what you do and who you are? They affect each other, but they're not the same thing."

Megamind frowns. Breathes deeply. "What I do is part of who I am," he allows, but Salim appears to reject this as well.

"A little. Okay, a little, sure, but—I think you've got it backwards? Who you are informs what you do, way more than the other way around." Megamind just squints at him, so Salim shakes his head and says, "Look. You put who you are into what you do—yes? That's why the buildings you destroy are evacuated. That's why you're quiet for a couple weeks on the rare occasion there's collateral damage. That's why that bill went through on the insurance proceeds taxability thing ten years ago. Those things are who you are. Your intentions are to minimize harm, at least from where I'm sitting."

Megamind recoils. "That—no, that wasn't, that was—" Salim gives him a very flat look. "How," he whispers.

"Roxanne, again," he says. "But my point is, who you are goes into what you do. Actions are by intentions. That's true for everybody. So your actions—what you do reflects who you are, especially in the details, okay? Not just the big stuff. And who you are," he continues, relentless, "is a good person."

Megamind's gaze snaps to him. Salim smiles a little.

"I'm serious," he says. "I know we've only really hung out once before, but Roxanne talks about you a lot, and I live in Metro City and I have eyes, and you're part of the family at this point and…I mean, I wouldn't call you a paragon of virtue, or anything, but…evil is a real stretch. You know? You're a good dude, overall."

Megamind stares. Salim can't be sure, but the alien looks like he might be about to cry; his eyebrows are halfway up his forehead and his lips are parted and—

—and then his expression goes totally flat and he stands up. "I have to go."

"Okay," Salim says, uncertain. "You still good to babysit for Derya? I haven't scared you off?"

Megamind presses his lips together, but he nods. "I am. Good. To babysit, yes."

He starts to head for the door, but Salim stands up. "Hey, wait."

(Megamind—should just go, should walk away and not look back, should say no to this babysitting thing and leave now and never come back and—but he can't. He—god. When he dies, he dies, but Derya—he at least wants to see her as much as he can, first. Her and Roxanne.)

He eyes Salim warily, lowering his head as he approaches. He's still wearing that flat expression. Slowly, Salim lifts his hands. "Hug?"

He's pretty sure Megamind is going to say no. Honestly, he's pretty sure he just overstepped in a big way, and he's planning on texting Roxanne after this to warn her that her pet supervillain might be in some kind of mood.

Megamind stands with his head sort of bowed and his green eyes flicking all over the room, both elbows slicked against his sides, both hands clenched. And when he lifts his head, his flat expression has turned downright scary—he looks angry enough to spit. But he takes two steps forward, grabs Salim by the shoulder, and clunks their foreheads together hard. And he shoves. Just for a moment, but he does push, and he's away in the next second.

"Give Rose one from me," he says shortly, and he's out the door and into the night before Salim can do much more than register what he said.

Salim blinks at the closed front door, and slowly brings a hand up to rub his forehead. "Ow," he says, to nobody in particular.

What the heck was that?

Four days later, Megamind has just hit his first snag in the construction of his new battlesuit when his phone lights up.

Hey :) miss you, can you come over? Dinner? Nachos?

He bites his lip. Working, he texts back. Sorry.

A minute later, the screen lights again.

:(

Megamind sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. He should really stay. Finish working this out. But.

He scowls down at the plans, then up at the scaffolded pre-endoskeleton. The hydraulics just aren't working, and he can't see why, and it's so annoying, because hydraulics are easy.

Still. If Roxanne is asking to see him…

He doesn't have to leave for very long. And he does need to eat. He can leave to eat dinner and then come back, load up on coffee, and throw himself into this problem until it gives way like his problems always do. Besides, this battlesuit still isn't speaking to him the way he's sure it would have a year ago. He's been expecting himself to pick up his usual excitement at some point—battlesuits are usually a surefire pick-me-up—but he's got nothing.

OK, he types, already heading for his bedroom. I'll be there in 15.

He finishes getting dressed in two minutes, checks his phone again, smiles at Roxanne's simple :D, and breaks into a jog as he goes for his hoverbike. He's in the air two minutes after that, and roaring across the beginnings of what will surely be a beautiful sunset.

Looks like today was a nice day. It's a shame he missed it.

Roxanne meets him on her balcony, standing just outside her door as he lands. She's smiling at him as he lands, which—that is still just the strangest thing. "Hey," she says. "I'm glad you could take a break!"

He smiles tiredly at her as he climbs off the bike. "Yes," he says, resisting the urge to pour himself into her arms and put his head on her shoulder, "you had good timing. I was having a problem and I'm not at all sure I'll be able to solve it in time to get everything ready by next Tuesday."

"Tuesday," Roxanne says, sounding surprised. "So no kidnapping this week? Wow, then I'm extra glad you came over. I have to get my mega-fix or I get cranky. Come on in."

He follows her inside. "You look nice," he says. He isn't sure if this is inappropriate, but she does. She's wearing a sort of sleeveless, dark purple dress with a ruffled collar, and it really does look lovely on her. Also, her feet are bare, and the formal/informality of the look makes Megamind's heart do a squeezy thing.

"You like it?" she says, smiling at him over her shoulder. "I like it, too. I haven't had as many reasons to dress up recently while Carl figures out a new team for me, but I felt like being fancy today.

"You also look nice," she adds, turning and giving him a quick down-up look that makes heat rise to his ears. "I love that shirt. You wear small prints really well." The shirt is black, with a semi-retro floral print in various shades of pink and blue. "It's nice to see some color on you."

He flushes. "I liked the flowers on the beverage tote you let me borrow," he admits. "I told Minion about it and he's…going a bit wild with the flowers, now."

Roxanne laughs. "I bet he likes having some variety."

"He really does." Megamind rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but his smile is fond. "He's getting fancy with the cuts, as well. This is one of the more basic ones."

She raises an eyebrow. "Oooh. You'll have to show me one of the fancier ones, sometime!"

He wrinkles his nose. "The most recent one was silk and had ruffles," he says, and Roxanne's face lights up. "I will not show you that one."

"You will too, that sounds amazing and I absolutely must see it as soon as possible."

He laughs. "We'll see, Miss Ritchi," he says, in Minion's voice. Then, "How do nachos work?"

Roxanne waves him over to her kitchenette, laughing at the mimicry. "Oh, they're super easy, I'll show you. And then I thought we'd eat on the balcony? If you wanted?"

He nods. "It's a nice day," he says, hearing the regret in his own voice and chafing at it. "I spent all of it inside."

"Aw," she says. "That's sad."

She shows him how to arrange the chips on his plate, and then the toppings on top of the chips, and then cheese on top of those, and then under the broiler to melt the cheese. And Megamind thinks—the nacho meat is definitely freshly-cooked and he can't see an apron anywhere, but there are absolutely no grease spots on Roxanne's dress—not that he was looking!—but, did she—did she put her work clothes back on? Before he came over? Cook in one thing, wear something else?

It really is a nice dress. The cut shows off her curves, which are voluptuous and delightful and definitely not something Megamind has ever noticed and thrilled at several thousand times before. Ha. That would be ridiculous.

But dresses are not something Roxanne wears around her home, and she probably got home several hours ago.

He frowns.

Don't read into it, he tells himself. She said she felt like being fancy. She's allowed to want to be fancy on a whim.

And then he's sitting on Roxanne's balcony, in the gold of the sunset, sharing dinner and laughing with her. Talking about nothing. At one point, talking about literally nothing and the entropy involved with that. At another point, talking about whether Roxanne can afford to quit her job and freelance for a living. She wants to, she says. She might not ever wind up in front of a camera again, and the longer she stays out of the limelight the more okay she is with it. But the job is boring as it is, and unless she can figure out a way to make it interesting again…

"You'll make it work," Megamind assures her. "Whether you stay with KMCP or go somewhere else or strike out on your own. You're brilliant, Roxanne, you truly are." And Roxanne blushes prettily under her freckles and smiles—

—and he thinks—mental snapshot, remember this, keep this—want to stay here with you forever—

He pauses.

Megamind has not thought about forever in well over a decade.

"So, tell me about this problem you're having with your new plan," Roxanne is saying, and he shakes himself and focuses on her. Right. The moment. This moment is all that matters. "I'm brilliant. Maybe I can help," she says, still smiling, with color in her cheeks.

"It's a battlesuit," he says. "I don't want to give too much away, but there's a claw. Like a fiddler crab. So there is a lot of power in its arms, in particular, and the hydraulics just do not want to work." He sighs. "I'll figure it out. I'm just annoyed with it."

"And you said you want this thing done by Tuesday?" she says, staring at him. Her smile is fading. "For a full battlesuit? And you're only just now getting it constructed—" Her expression goes worried and she reaches forward across her little table, puts her hand on his arm. "Megamind, you—when did you start working on this?"

"A few days ago," he says breezily, trying to blow her off. "The brainbots and I work quickly."

"And when did you start designing it?"

She knows him entirely too well. "A few days ago, I told you," he says, trying not to snap. It's a valid question. She's allowed to ask questions. It's just that Minion has been on him about this, too, and he is entirely sick of hearing about it. "It's really okay. Like I said, we work fast."

"Fast isn't—fast is not safe," Roxanne says, horrified, squeezing his arm. "You need to take your time! For a full battlesuit—take your time, build it solid, make sure it tests well! The balance and counterweights on this thing are going to have to be perfect."

"I know that," he says irritably, pulling his arm away. "Sorry, which one of us is the supervillain, here? I really don't see why you're worried."

"It's just—you've gotten hurt before," Roxanne says. "You're tough, and I know you are utterly determined, and I love that about you, but the eye thing—and your hip—" She swallows, and Megamind flushes, wishing yet again that she hadn't seen any of that. "And this, this—machine—you've only been working on it for—what, a week? Tops? It's going to be a deathtrap!"

"That's the general idea," he says coldly.

"A deathtrap for you," she says, her voice sharp. "Not Metro Man."

Megamind scoffs in his throat. "If I die, I die," he says flatly, as he has told himself so many times before, but Roxanne recoils. "Oh well."

Roxanne stares at him. "Oh well—no! No, not 'oh well!' This is your life I am worried about!"

"I don't need you to worry about me!" he snarls, getting to his feet. This again. This again; he can't think about this again or all of his resolve is going to collapse. It's been dangerously shaky lately as-is and he cannot afford this. "This is my life, Roxanne! And it is my life! I don't need you worrying about me!"

"Do you want to die?" she asks, pushing herself up as well and wrapping her arms across her chest, gripping her elbows like she's holding herself upright.

"No! No, I don't—I do not want to, but what else is there?" He throws up his hands, then gestures at his chest with his fingertips. "Look at me! Look at me. Tell me what happens to all the other supervillains! All of them! What else is there?"

She stares at him, shaking her head mutely.

"You know it's true," he says. "You know it is. I'm the bad guy; I don't fly off into the sunset for a happy ending. The most any of us can hope for is that it's quick. That's how this goes. You know that's how this goes."

"You just said you don't want it," she tries, voice shaking. "You could retire," but Megamind laughs mirthlessly.

"What I want hasn't mattered in years," he says. "If it ever mattered in the first place. There's nothing else, Roxanne. This is who I am and there is nothing else out there for me."

"I can't do this," Roxanne says, backing away from him, still shaking her head. "I can't do this, I won't—I can't watch you do this to yourself. And this is not who you are, this isn't—there is so much more in you than this—"

"Oh, because you know exactly who I am," he snaps.

"I can't do this, Megamind," Roxanne snaps back. "If you're going to build yourself a fucking deathtrap and roll it out before it's ready, I don't want to hear about it and I don't want to see it and—I'm not—I can't do this."

"Then don't," Megamind says flatly, and Roxanne's expression contorts into full anger.

"Fine," she hisses. "Fine. I won't. I just won't fucking keep you in my life if you're going to treat yourself like you don't matter. And I'm not talking myself out of it," she adds, spitting the words at him, curling her lip. "If you want to be like this, if you want to go smear yourself across the pavement somewhere—fine. Fine. Fuck you." She pinches her lips together, glaring, her mouth trembling with what Megamind assumes is rage.

"This is who I am," he snaps, his voice shaking as he struggles to maintain his usual even keel in the face of her I won't talk myself out of this. "This is who I am. I am—evil, okay? I am evil. I am not good. No good. I am a supervillain; I have always been destined for villainy; this is me; this is who I am. Love it or leave it."

"Watch me do both," she snarls, and slams the door behind her and yanks the curtain closed.

Megamind jerks like she just slapped him and stares after her. What the hell did that—

He starts forward—

And then he stops. Stands. Forces himself to breathe. Swallows the stone in his throat down into his chest. Forces it down.

Forces everything down.

There is no point to any of this. There is absolutely no point to any of what he's doing here. There are no other paths that Megamind can see, and there is no point in ever wanting to be anything more than what he is, and if he's disappointed then it's his own fault for getting distracted.

He stands, and breathes, and then he whirls on his heels and stalks back to his hoverbike.

Roxanne stands just inside her balcony doors, glaring into her apartment and breathing hard, and then—

Her lips pinch as her breath catches. She tips her head back so the tears in her eyes run down the outside of her face rather than the sides of her nose, and she swipes them angrily away.

That was cruel, she knows. She's already regretting it. But—god. He's so stubborn.

How could—how could he say all those awful things? As if they were true! As if they were remotely true. There's more out there for him. There is. There is. There are supervillains who don't die. Aren't there?

There have to be.

Blinking back tears, Roxanne grabs a notebook, goes to her computer, and fires up Google.

There have to be others. They're supervillains, for god's sake; they tend to be crafty. They can't all die young. Even if it seems like all—pseudocide is rarely confirmed, but Roxanne knows from Wayne that it's talked about enough in super-circles that it's likely not uncommon.

There have to be others. She'll start with the obituaries, start looking for patterns and go from there. There are supervillains who retire, there are, and Roxanne is going to find them.

Later that night, sitting in the scaffolding around his still-faulty battlesuit, Megamind grumbles in his throat and rubs at his good eye.

The really annoying thing is, Roxanne wasn't wrong. This contraption is very much a rush job—he needs it done within the week if he wants to keep from falling behind this quarter. But it isn't like he has any better ideas. And it isn't like he's never pushed himself before, with caffeine and spite to carry him through rushed builds. Megamind is getting older, yes, but he's still fairly young for his species and still full of the proverbial spit and vinegar. He'll be fine.

He sighs and adjusts his watch to turn off his hard-light underlay, then grips his right elbow and grits his teeth as his artificial nerves disengage from their counterparts below his skin. He tugs his arm free of his sleeve and passes it off to a brainbot to hold onto for a moment.

The searing pain of interrupted nerves is usually enough to keep Megamind from messing with his prosthetic, but it's been a while and tonight the damned scar just won't stop itching. He rucks up the loose sleeve of his pajamas so he can rub absently at the old tuck of skin an inch or so north of where his elbow used to be.

He's lucky, he knows. Lucky to keep his shoulder and upper arm, and incredibly lucky to be able to design his own reasonably lightweight biomechanical neuroprosthetic. Lucky to have a full-body scan of himself on file, complete with ocular tracking, to keep himself on the down low. There's no shame in this, of course, but a villain has enemies, and they were already sniffing around during his extended absence while he recovered and worked on his range of motion. Worked on building something to just make this not be happening.

Which didn't work, of course. Even Megamind's technology isn't magic. The computerized sensors in his hand and arm helped a lot, as did his existing prowess at cyborg part design and organotech integration, but recovering his dexterity while defending his title as reigning supervillain without making his disability obvious was a nightmare for three solid years. He made it, in the end, but…

Well. What the hell else was he supposed to do? Lie down and die? Megamind does not go gentle into that good night.

And Salim wasn't entirely wrong, either. Megamind does what he can along the path that's laid for him, within the parameters he knows. But he doesn't dare stray from that path, can't look too far beyond it. There's no safety net to catch him if he falls or falters, he knows. It's fine.

(he could)

(build his own net)

(maybe)

(text roxanne—)

(—no.)

He starts to reach up to rub his eye again, then remembers he's currently one-handed. God, he's tired. He unbuttons his pajama shirt and shrugs halfway out of it so he can reattach his arm more easily. The pins and needles never really do go away, do they? Removing the neuroprosthetic is unpleasant in more ways than one.

He hisses between his teeth as his nerves reconnect, then flexes his fingers a few times, twirls his wrist, and starts running through his warmup routine. He's fine. He'll be fine. And he'll catch some enthusiasm for this battlesuit at some point, right? It's not like he's going to feel stuck like this forever, right?

There's more in you than this, Roxanne said, before she threw Megamind's heart at his feet, and she certainly seemed sure of herself. And Megamind—Megamind is getting pretty good at trusting Roxanne, it's just—god. God, it would be nice if he could actually see what she's talking about. He wasn't kidding when he said he doesn't want to die, but he really is not sure, these days, how much more of this he can take.

But. He'll be fine. He usually is.

Time to go to work.

Chapter Text

Tuesday night, and Rose and Salim are sitting up in bed, having a quiet night in while summer rain taps and patters on the roof of their home. Earlier that evening someone sounded like they were setting off fireworks a few blocks away, but whoever it was seems to have finally turned in for the night. Odd to set off fireworks in the rain, but who are Rose and Salim to judge? Derya slept through it, anyway, so they aren't going to do much more than roll their eyes about it.

A while after the explosions die away, there's a knock at the door downstairs. Three sharp taps. Rose looks up from her laptop with a frown. Salim shrugs.

"It's late," he says, and goes back to his book. "It's past ten o'clock. Don't answer it."

Thirty seconds later, another three taps. Rose sighs and stands, cracks her back. "It's probably a neighbor," she says, pulling her bathrobe off the back of the bedroom door and shrugging into it. "Maybe something's wrong."

It isn't a neighbor.

"I am having," Megamind says, swaying on his feet with his eyes unfocused, "the worst night. May I please see Derya."

Rose blinks at him, shocked. "She's—sleeping, but—"

"I won't wake her up."

Speechless, Rose waves him inside, staring at him. He's filthy. His cape is in tatters and his high collar is torn, one of his gloves is completely missing, and the right side of his face is a mask of rainwater and mud and blood trickling down from a cut on his forehead. His lower lip is swollen and bleeding. He's limping badly.

"Oh, my god," Rose says, and heads for the kitchen in the back of the house. Megamind is already disappearing up the stairs despite his limp, working at the buckle on his remaining glove to get it off.

There's a knock at the door as she comes back out with the paper towels. She answers, thinking it's probably Minion.

It isn't Minion.

"Hi, Rose," says Metro Man, looking very tired in the red and blue lights of the police cars rolling in behind him. "We have reason to believe you're harboring a fugitive; you mind turning him over?"

Rose stares up at him for a second, speechless. Then she glances down.

He has blood on his gloves.

"I'm just doing my job," Metro Man says quietly, when Rose stands motionless and says nothing, her lips a thin line and her eyes on his gloves.

She looks back up at his face. The expression she's wearing is one Wayne is well-acquainted with; he's seen it on Roxanne a few times. It doesn't bode well.

"Come back with a warrant," Rose hisses, knowing he won't, and she closes the door in Metro Man's face. The only reason she doesn't slam it is because her daughter is asleep. "How dare you," she adds, knowing he'll hear her just fine. "You son of a bitch, how dare you. Don't you dare come back. I am calling my sister."

"Understood," says Wayne's muffled voice on the other side of the door. "Thanks, Rose. Keep him overnight if you can; I'll tell them it was a false trail but there's going to be cops watching your house probably 'til around two or so."

"Fuck you," Rose snaps, and stalks away up the stairs before she can hear anything else, the roll of paper towels tucked under her elbow. "Salim, call Annie!" she says as she hurries past their room. "Tell her to get her butt over here pronto; Megamind's hurt."

"Oh no," says Salim, startled, and goes for his phone.

Megamind is standing over Derya's crib, staring down at her, when Rose pokes her head in. "Hey," she says, her voice quiet. In the corner of the room by the ceiling, Deimos and Phobos hum softly and turn towards her, their glow flickering a little bit brighter.

"Metro Man is here," Megamind says dully, turning towards the door.

"Don't worry about it. I told him to get fucked." She steps into the room and reaches up to gently stroke the twins' metallic bellies, their arms retracted and coiled up like springs there. "Shhh, it's okay," she tells them. "It's okay. Go back to sleep, babies."

They mutter at her and their flickering subsides, goes soft and muted as they fall dormant again.

Megamind blinks a few times as she comes back across to him and cautiously rests her hand on his shoulder. "Ah," he says, his eyebrows tugging slightly. It's barely a frown. His eyes are glassy, flat.

Rose jerks her head at him. "Come on in the bathroom, let's get you cleaned up."

She helps him strip down to his undersuit, giving him a wad of paper towels to press against the cut on his head. His muddy, bloody leathers and his boots splat into the bathtub.

"Got mud on your carpet," he says. "Sorry."

"It's just carpet," Rose replies, running a washcloth under the tap. "It's not important."

"Blood on your floor. I shouldn't have bothered you. Should have just gone to prison."

"You aren't bothering me," says Rose, guiding him to sit on the lid of the closed toilet. "I'm glad you came. I'm glad you know you can come here."

He blinks slowly. "But," he says. "You're…am I not…reading you correctly? You're angry."

"Not with you." She starts to reach for him, and he flinches. "With whoever did this to you. Are you…hmm." She hesitates, considers him for a moment. "That undersuit thing of yours, that's similar to the one you wore swimming, right? It dries quickly?"

Megamind nods.

"Okay," Rose says. "Then I'll tell you what, actually, let's just—Salim? Honey? Can you bring a garbage bag so we can put his stuff on it?"

Megamind frowns a little. "My gear is in the tub," he says. "It's fine."

Rose has abandoned the washcloth in favor of rummaging under the sink. "Yes, but if I can find the shower hose, we're going to put you in the tub to rinse you off, and I don't think that will be good for your boots. I don't even know what to do about the rest of your gear. But I don't want it—aha!—I don't want it on my bathroom floor, either. Here we go." She settles back on her heels, brandishing a sort of tube attachment with a nozzle like a showerhead on the end.

Salim comes in with two white garbage bags and spreads them out on the floor, then starts moving the pieces of Megamind's discarded armor out of the bathtub and onto the plastic.

"Excellent," says Rose, already on her feet and reaching up to unscrew their regular showerhead. "Thanks, babe; I just don't want all the mud and stuff just sitting on the floor."

The next thing Megamind knows, he's climbing into the tub and gingerly lowering himself to sit there while Salim washes his hands and Rose works on getting the water to an acceptable temperature.

He isn't. Entirely sure what's happening, at this point. His head is spinning and it hurts where he's pressing paper towels to it—clean paper towels, now; Salim took the bloody ones away and handed him a fresh folded wad of them. His hand hurts and his hip is beginning to throb. But there's warm water rinsing over his head and neck, now, and down his back and his arms, and—and Rose—Roxanne's sister—Megamind's friend is very carefully washing the mud and blood off his skin without actually touching him. Even though—but Rose is Roxanne's sister, and Roxanne must have told her she doesn't care about him anymore, so—what's happening? What's—

He wants Roxanne. He wants Roxanne so badly it hurts. But.

The thought that he loves her has been knocking around the edges of his brain since the morning after their fight, when he woke up from a power nap with his stomach still full of ugly twisty feelings that wouldn't go away. He couldn't even bring himself to look at his phone. He let it sit and let the battery die and every time he looked at it he wanted to throw up.

He wanted to see her and he couldn't, wouldn't let himself, had no business wanting that. She doesn't want him in her life if he's going to do what he's doing, so—

But he wanted.

And at some point while he was working, he thought, oh, what about—oh, god, what about Derya. He wanted—Derya is one of the very few people who has ever met Megamind and smiled immediately, taken one single look at Megamind and decided yes, this is a thing I like, and Megamind just—loves her. Would pull down the moon for her if she wanted it.

But Derya is Rose's daughter, and Rose is Roxanne's sister, and so of course Rose must know he and Roxanne fought and so Megamind could only assume he burned that bridge as well. Right? That's how this goes? Megamind has never had a friend to lose before, but he's pretty sure that's how this goes.

But Rose let him into her home, and Rose made Metro Man go away, and Rose is helping him get clean, even though Rose is Roxanne's sister and Megamind has no idea where to even go with that. The only thing Megamind knows for sure is that he still, at the end of it all, wants Roxanne. Because he is in love with her.

Which is a thing he really would have preferred to figure out sooner.

"Who did do this to you?" Rose asks, after a minute or so. Megamind is mostly just sitting still and staring straight ahead. "Metro Man, I assume?"

"I did this to myself," he says, his voice dull. "My career is…I know the risks."

"One of these days, you're not going to get back up," she warns, but Megamind curls his lip a little.

"Then this planet will finally be rid of me," he says, in a voice dripping with exhausted sarcasm. "Oh no."

Rosemary presses her lips together and doesn't reply to that. She just keeps rinsing the mud off his face while he presses more paper towels against the wound on his scalp.

"How is Derya," Megamind says. "How is she doing."

"Oh, she's doing fine," Rose says lightly. "She's starting to stand, now. She pulls herself up on things and looks around. No walking yet, but that's not surprising. It's still a bit early for that."

"Did she get sick from Roxanne's fever."

"Nope," says Rose. "She was just fine. Salim said you gave her a bath; that probably helped a lot with keeping her healthy."

Something settles on the side of the tub and Megamind glances over. A flat, translucent box of some kind, with many small shapes inside it.

"I brought the first-aid kit," says Salim. "Megamind, is anything broken? Any more cuts, or is it just your head?"

Megamind holds up the hand that isn't holding the paper towels and twitching. His ring and pinkie fingers are twisted sideways. Salim blinks, then goes a little bit pale.

"Oh, jeez," Rose says. "Wow. I didn't even—well, those are definitely dislocated. Um—"

"May I have that washcloth, please," Megamind says. Salim passes it to him, then edges closer and sits on the side of the tub, reaches for him. Megamind startles, jerks himself back with a shallow gasp.

"Whoa, easy," Salim says, pausing. "It's just your head. Got a feeling you're going to need both hands for whatever you're about to do."

"Ah," says Megamind, and allows Salim to take over the pressure. "Yes."

"I can set them for you if you want to wait," Rose says quietly.

Megamind ignores her, awkwardly folding the washcloth into a thick strip that he can put in his mouth and bite down on. Then he grabs his ring finger, grits his teeth against the washcloth, and twists the joint back into place with a low pop, hissing between his teeth against the pain. He pants through his nose for a moment. Swallows. Then he bares his teeth and takes hold of his pinkie, and this time his hiss has a sort of sharp clicking sound underneath, like a fishing reel turning over.

"You done?" says Salim, in a tight voice, after a moment. His eyes are squeezed closed and his mouth is a thin line.

"Yes," Megamind says, taking the washcloth out of his mouth and draping it on the side of the tub. And then, as an afterthought, "Sorry."

"Megamind," Rose says quietly. She's been moving the water slowly over his back and arms for a while, now, without moving on. "I need to ask…is there any way you would consider taking off the undersuit?" She knows this is a lot, but the mud and grime wasn't restricted to Megamind's leathers. Quite a bit of it seems to have made it past that outer layer. "I'm trying to get it clean, but there's just…there's only so much I can do."

Megamind shudders. Lowers his head. Salim stands and hurries away.

"I am a caregiver and a nurse in a retirement community," Rose says, holding her voice low and steady. "I help people with limited mobility get clean all the time."

He swallows. Murmurs, "I would like to be clean."

"I need a firm yes or no before I start trying to help you with that."

There's a long pause, during which Rose keeps the warm spray moving softly back and forth over Megamind's shoulders.

"Yes," Megamind finally says. His voice is nearly inaudible, but he does say yes, and he does also sort of nod.

"I brought pants," Salim says, coming back. He drapes a folded pair of gray lounge pants over the edge of the sink. "And I'll be right outside if you need me." He closes the door behind himself.

(Thanks, Megamind wants to say, but the word gets lost on the way to his mouth.)

"We're going to do this from the top down," Rose says. She shifts a little beside the tub, grateful all over again for the kneeling cushion Salim's mother bought for Derya's bathtime. It's very squishy and well-padded. "We'll get it down to your waist and clean you off, then see how you feel and go from there. Okay?"

He nods.

She nods back, and then she sets the shower hose down briefly so she can carefully help him pull the undersuit down over his shoulders and arms. They run into a snag with his watch—this undersuit has long sleeves, and Megamind seems very set on keeping his watch firmly in place—but Rose works his sleeve carefully over its face until finally his arms are free and they can get the undersuit down as far as it will go with Megamind sitting in the tub. It's slow going; Megamind's left hand is injured and his right hand is twitching and seems to be having trouble gripping.

Rose talks to him the whole time, a steady stream of words. When they started, she was walking him through what she was doing and what she was about to do, but then Megamind interrupted her with, "Derya. Tell me." So Rose launched into regaling him with the saga of attempted bedtime routines, Derya's seven-month backslide, what the process is now.

"She likes humming, still," she says. "We can't stay with her now after we put her down, but if we go somewhere new, walking and humming is still our best bet. Good lord, how do you have so few scars?"

"Ha," Megamind says, but that's all.

Rose keeps talking. She tells him about her mother's visit a month ago, how Dorothy is so ecstatic to have a grandchild that she traveled out from Montana despite how stressful it is for her to stay in places that aren't her home. She had to go home a couple days earlier than expected, but it was still a lovely visit. She tells him about Salim's parents, who have adjusted to the news and love doting on their new granddaughter whenever they come up from Chicago. She slips her arm around Megamind's back to help him briefly lift his hips so they can peel his undersuit down and off of his legs. She keeps talking about anything and everything she can think of as she finishes rinsing him off.

(Megamind is not…entirely present, for any of this. Water is usually grounding, but there is absolutely no settling into his skin with what's going on and the pain he's in. Responding is difficult. Colors are too bright and sounds are far too sharp; Rose's particular voice is a blessing.)

(Still, he is Megamind, which means even when he's cut loose and drifting he can't not notice his surroundings, and—he notices that Rose's voice does not falter, and—he notices that she does not stare, and—he notices that her hands stay gentle, and—he is, on some level where he can still feel, grateful for these things.)

"Okay," Rose finally says, shutting off the water and bundling an oversized fluffy green towel around Megamind's thin shoulders. "Here, let's get you into those pants and then we'll see if we can't get that cut on your head to stay closed with some steri-strips, huh? And then maybe some gauze? Do you have any sensitivities to medical adhesive?"

"What?" Megamind says. Then, "Oh. Yes, that's. Fine."

Rose helps him get to his feet and into the loose drawstring pants Salim brought—the bottoms of them are cut off; Salim must have taken a pair of scissors to them so Megamind wouldn't trip—and then she helps him to sit down on the closed toilet again so she can wash her hands and close the cut on his head and tape a folded pad of gauze down over it.

"You may want to get actual stitches," she tries, but the look Megamind sends her tells her exactly what he thinks of that idea. "Okay," she says. "Well, let's get you on your feet. Ready? And, up we go—"

Megamind's body has finally realized that it isn't running on adrenaline anymore, and he's beginning to lose his usual mid-battle flexibility. He lets out a high, pained whine as his hip protests. He would usually bite his lip against it, but his lip hurts.

Knocking from downstairs. Pounding on the kitchen door.

"Oh, that's Annie, probably," Rose says, distracted. "Sounds like she went around back. Um…oh, lord, I'm too tall for this." She nudges the door open with her toe and calls her husband back from where he was about to go downstairs. "Salim? Hey, I'm not sure he can walk unassisted right now; can you get him to the sofa in the office? I'll go grab Annie."

Roxanne is—what? But—oh, maybe they don't know, yet. This will be awkward.

What is she even doing here? She came? Here? What does that—

Doesn't matter. Push it down.

"Yeah, no problem," Salim says, and he comes in and turns so he's facing the same direction as Megamind. "Here," he says, "put your arm over my shoulder…yeah, good, and then we walk…"

He guides Megamind carefully out to the futon sofa in the tiny second-floor office and settles him there as Rose goes downstairs to let her sister inside. "Here," Salim says, easing Megamind down. "Here, sit. Let me go get you something dry…"

He hurries away as Megamind shifts around and tries to get himself situated in a way that doesn't aggravate his hip.

"Megamind?" Roxanne says. He startles and blinks up at her, and then his heart twists and he turns his face away. "Oh, lord," she says, dropping onto the couch beside him. "Megamind, what happened?"

"Anything I can do?" Salim asks, reappearing with some kind of garment in his hands.

"Do you have simple syrup?" Roxanne asks. "Or honey in warm water? It's a two to one ratio. He's basically a hummingbird."

"I'll make some," Salim says, and hands Megamind the sweater he's holding, disappears.

"I don't understand what's happening," Megamind whispers, blinking down at the sweater. It's a weird shade of green, cable-knit, and extraordinarily soft and lumpy.

"Put it on," Rose says, turning it around in his lap for him. "Arms up. Good, now you stay there and put your feet up while I get an ice pack. Is it your hip or your knee?"

"Hip," he mumbles, watching with flat eyes as she pushes one of the little ottomans scattered around the room closer to the sofa. Roxanne lifts his legs, rests his feet on its padded top. "My right."

Roxanne straightens and peers at him, trying to hide her mounting worry. Megamind is just…sitting. Just sitting with his shoulders rounded, his features totally expressionless. It's so different from the way she usually sees him—he's usually in constant motion, with his heart on his sleeve. This flat emptiness is almost more disturbing than seeing him hurt.

And he isn't looking at her. And he hasn't responded to any of her texts since they argued, not even yesterday's 'I miss you. I'm sorry.'

When her sister comes back with the ice pack, Roxanne nods at his hand and tries to keep her tone light. "Rose, do you have a splint or something for his hand?" The last two knuckles look badly bruised and swollen.

"Oh, right," Rose says. "No, not one that will fit him. But I think I still have some thermoplastic from last Halloween lying around somewhere, so maybe we can figure something out with that?"

Which is how, a little while later, Megamind is sitting with his feet up and an ice pack on his hip and gauze taped to his head, and his hand wrapped in cotton and a stretchy bandage and a plastic splint that actually sort of fits him, sipping warm sugar water through a bright pink curly straw. Roxanne is still sitting beside him, aching to put her arm around him but unsure of how that will be received. Megamind hasn't pulled away from her, yet; that's a good sign. She hopes.

"Seriously," Rose says, packing away the rest of the roll of medical tape and the few remaining thermoplastic beads, "what happened? You look like you got hit by a bus."

"What always happens," he says. "I had a plan. It failed."

"Usually your plans don't end with you getting hurt this badly," Roxanne says, but he doesn't reply. "Do they?"

Megamind stares down at his splinted hand and his sugar water. Roxanne glances up at Rose, who has retreated to stand in the doorway next to where her husband is sitting on one of the other ottomans. Rose bites her lip, rests her hand on Salim's shoulder, and he reaches up to hold onto her.

"Megamind," Roxanne says, and swallows. "You don't normally get this hurt. This isn't normal, this is—you were reckless, this time, but—this isn't the norm."

"That's an impression I like to cultivate," he says quietly.

"What?" She puts a hand on his arm. Megamind doesn't look at her, and his flat expression doesn't change. "Megamind. Seriously, talk to me. Please, I—I know you're still upset, I know you don't want to talk to me—"

"I always want to talk to you."

She pauses, trying to figure out what that means. He hasn't moved; he doesn't look like he knows he said anything. Finally she goes with, "Then—we're still friends, right? We're still friends? Are you saying this isn't unusual?"

Megamind blinks once. "Friends," he murmurs, and finally glances at her face for a moment, turns toward her a little. Then he pauses. For a second, Roxanne thinks he's going to go quiet again, but then he says, "I wear a hard-light projection under my clothes." When Roxanne just stares at him, he slowly does something to his watch. It clicks and releases a soft whirring sound and a flash of blue light.

Roxanne presses a hand to her mouth, unable to keep from making a sharp, shocked noise. Across the room, Rose murmurs, "Oh, my god," and Salim inhales and sits up, moves his hands to his knees.

Megamind looks about a decade older. He has deep shadows under his eyes and his cheekbones; his sharp face is sharper, leaner. His blue skin is laced with scars, mostly old and pale but one or two still pink. There's a panel of metal affixed to the skin over his left temple, fitted to the curve of his head over the scar on that side of his face. It's—and it's a maintenance panel, it has to be, because his left eye is—

Horrified, Roxanne carefully reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, turns him so she can see his face a little better. Megamind lets her. "Megamind," she whispers, rubbing her thumb across the burned-smooth ridge where his eyebrow should be. "Sweetheart. When did you lose your eye?"

He blinks again. The lower lid of his left eye droops a little, doesn't quite match his uninjured one. "That was the Pineapple of Doom. You remember how quickly Metro Man got you home, that time." His expression finally shifts as he tries for something like a grin, but it's tired. Crooked, too; the side of his mouth is twisted by the tail of the branching scar that extends over the side of his head and face. "On the plus side, the biomechanical eye is pretty cool. Even if it doesn't…entirely look like an eye. I'm…working on that."

Roxanne shakes her head, speechless, and finally reaches around his shoulders to pull herself close to his side. Megamind jerks, stiffens, sort of flinches—but he doesn't push her off or lean away. He curves to fit against her, actually; he leans into her a little. Just a little, but it's still such a relief; if he shoved her off, Roxanne probably would have burst into tears.

This goes. Way beyond what she thought he was dealing with, when she was telling him—begging him—to think about retiring.

"I'm okay," he says, and Roxanne puts her other hand on the middle of his chest. He doesn't flinch, this time. "This really is not bad. The hip is…not new. I have a shard of bone in the joint that acts up sometimes. Honestly, it's just the cut and my lip. And my hand. I heal quickly." He leans back and sends her another smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm okay. I'll be back to normal in a few days."

Roxanne can only shake her head again.

"You don't look okay," Salim says. "You look like you've been beaten to Hell and back."

Megamind shrugs. "Over the years," he says. "Not all at once."

"That doesn't make it better, man," Salim tells him.

"Supervillains don't have long lives," Megamind replies, with a sort of gentle shrug. "That's no secret. I'm already an outlier in that statistic, especially against an opponent like Metro Man—but he pulls his punches, I'm pretty sure."

"Does he know about this?" Roxanne asks, looking into his face.

Megamind is quiet.

"Megamind," Roxanne says, curling her arm around his thin shoulders, pressing herself against his side, against his arm. "Does Wayne know you get hurt like this?"

"No," he finally admits. "But I think he might suspect. He's been careful, these past couple years. And I've…had a couple near misses. Recently." He sighs. "My reflexes aren't what they used to be."

Helpless, Roxanne looks at her sister and brother-in-law. Rosemary has her hand pressed to the base of her throat. Salim looks grim.

"What are you doing?" Megamind's voice is dull, and he's still terribly stiff in her arms.

Roxanne swallows hard. "Holding you," she says, proud that she's able to keep her voice from shaking. "Megamind, I'm so sorry. And I'm—I'm sorry I yelled at you. I had no idea things were this bad." Across the room, Rosemary turns and disappears down the hallway.

If Megamind is this determined—or this stubborn—this hopeless—

After a moment, Megamind takes another sip of sugar water, then places his glass carefully on the side table. "I'm okay, Miss Ritchi," he says. Then he frowns a little. "…Roxanne. Truly. I am. I'm…just…having an off day, I suppose. An off…month? Year? But I'm okay. Really." He fiddles with the hem of Salim's sweater with his uninjured hand, and Roxanne glances down—and catches her breath, because, oh. That's. Also a prosthetic. It's well-shaped, the mechanisms encased in a kind of translucent pale-blue silicone sheath. The device must be his own work; it moves exactly like a hand should as he rubs his fingertips along the knit—but his fingers keep jumping every couple of seconds. Something in it must be damaged.

"I'm okay," he says again.

Roxanne glances up at Rose as she comes back with Derya blinking sleepily in her arms. Rose's jaw is set, her lips squeezed together, but she comes over to the sofa and clears her throat so Megamind looks up. He recoils slightly, almost flinching, when Derya's little eyebrows pull together as she looks at him.

"Yes, it's Uncle Megamind," says Rose, her tone over-bright as she bounces her daughter before bending down and shifting her to start to pass her over. "Do you want to visit? Want to go see Uncle Megamind?"

Derya still looks sleepy and sort of confused, but she does stretch a hand out as Rose brings her down. Megamind is already reaching for her, and his long hands close around her and—Rose doesn't let go immediately; she lowers Derya all the way to Megamind's chest so he can't drop her if his hand spasms—but he brings her in almost on autopilot anyway, settles her easily against him. She leans back and blinks at his face for a moment—and then she sort of sinks her head down on his shoulder, her nook moving slightly as she sucks on it.

Megamind slowly curls his uninjured fingers over her back. He blinks a couple times, inhales shakily, and then his flat expression finally scrunches. His face pinches. He gulps.

He isn't crying, exactly. But his breathing is shivery and his mouth is trembling and his expression is abjectly miserable, sort of frantically tired. He turns his head to the side and nudges his nose very gently against Derya's thin, curly hair.

"Mmmbuummbummuummb," Derya mumbles around her nook. It's similar to the noise Roxanne heard her make at the lake, before, but for some reason it makes Megamind's eyes blink wide—and then his fragile expression just shatters and he breaks down entirely.

But. He makes a similar noise deep in his chest, a soft muttering rumble, in spite of the tears on his cheeks and the way he's gasping.

Salim and Rose look at each other, startled.

"So that's what that is," says Salim, quietly.

Derya makes another soft little noise as she drops back off to sleep on Megamind's shoulder, and he grits his teeth against his tears and keeps humming in his subvoice—

—and Roxanne, who can't stand to just sit here and watch him cry like this, lifts the arm she has around his shoulders to press her hand to the side of his head and nudge him to lean on her a little more. "Shh," she whispers. Megamind turns his face towards her and his crooning hum ebbs—he's startled—and then he goes sort of boneless and allows Roxanne to guide his huge head to rest against her temple. "Shh. Hey. You're okay. You'll be okay; we're going to help you be okay. Shhh."

Megamind heaves in a shuddering breath and nods, gulping, breath hitching as he resumes singing in his chest as he cries.

"I'm so tired," he gasps out, and Roxanne nods against him. She presses her hand to the curve of his cranium, her other hand to the side of his face, and Megamind presses helplessly against her palm as she carefully brushes his tears away with her thumb.

That night, an exhausted Megamind sleeps on the futon in Rose and Salim's office, and Roxanne crashes on the couch downstairs. Around three in the morning, her phone buzzes and lights up, and Roxanne—who isn't usually a light sleeper, but she's distressed and distracted and not sleeping particularly deeply—picks up and slurs a sleepy, "H'lo?"

"Miss Ritchi? It's me. I'm outside. Can you let me in?"

She sits up. "Minion?"

"I tracked his watch, can I come in?"

"Yeah, hang on."

She gets up and shuffles over to the door in the darkness, quietly rolls the deadbolt back and pulls the door open. Minion ducks inside from where he was looming in the doorway with a small duffel bag.

"I didn't want to wake anyone up breaking in," he says softly, as Roxanne closes and locks the door behind him. "So I tried calling you, first. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," she says, patting his furry arm and yawning. "He's upstairs, the second door on the left. Minion—um. How, how much of him is mechanical? At this point?"

Minion looks down at her for a moment. "More than he likes to admit," he finally says. "And more than I like to think about. He turned off the underlay?" Roxanne nods, and Minion sighs. "Well," he says, "I'll…call that a good sign, I suppose. If he's showing someone."

"He can't keep doing this," Roxanne says. "He's going to die. Minion, he's—basically killing himself like this."

Minion's little face wrinkles slightly, illuminated by his own bioluminescence in the dark living room. "I know," he replies. "But what can I do? He won't stop. I've tried."

"Maybe I could try, too? If I help—"

"It isn't your problem, Miss Ritchi," he says. "It's kind of you to worry, but it really is not your problem."

Roxanne stares up at him, then swallows hard against the stone in her throat. "You aren't the only one who loves him, Minion," she whispers, reaching to take his hand. "He wasn't born to die young. Neither were you."

Minion doesn't reply. He smiles thinly down at her, and gives her hand a little squeeze. And then he disappears upstairs.

Lying on her sister's sofa, Roxanne stares up at the ceiling in the dark.

I can't lose him, she thinks, as a lump crawls into her throat. Megamind has become such a part of her life, over the years—this past year, especially. She wasn't expecting to blurt out that she was going to be an aunt, and even after she did that, she wasn't expecting him to take an interest in the baby the way he did. But, god, the way he lights up with Derya is incredible, and the way he smiled and laughed when they went to the lake at Judson Pines was so telling.

There's so much more in him than just villainy. Roxanne knows there is.

She bites her lip.

I love him.

She rolls onto her side, remembering him tipped back in his chair with Derya asleep on his chest. Remembering him sprawled out on the rooftop, playing with Derya as she sucked on something Megamind brought with him who knows how many quadrillion miles from another planet. Remembering him saying, "You work too much. I worry." Remembering him studying a grasshopper—his first-ever grasshopper—with bright, interested eyes as it sat on his hand. Remembers how excited he was to show her a tadpole.

"This really is not your problem," Minion said, and Roxanne thinks—of Minion bringing her soup, making her a dish she hasn't had since she was a girl, getting her horrible coworker fired for her—Roxanne thinks, oh my god, enough of this.

She rolls onto her feet and stands up, then heads for the stairs.

Chapter Text

Roxanne taps her fingernails twice on the door before she opens it. She doesn't want to wake Megamind up, but she also doesn't want to startle him if he's already awake.

He isn't. He's asleep, with his hard-light mask in place. Minion stirs as Roxanne closes the door behind her.

"Miss Ritchi?" he whispers. The gorilla exosuit is sitting on the floor under the window, and Minion himself is wedged into a sort of castle in his dome, blinking at her.

"I can't," Roxanne whispers back. "Minion, I can't stay out there while he's in here, hurt. I can't."

"But—"

"Enough," she tells him, moving toward the bed. "Go to sleep, Minion. I'm not going to hurt him; you know that."

Minion hesitates, then slowly nods. A moment later there's a grumbling from inside the suit and his little castle descends into the chest cavity.

Huh. That's neat, but Roxanne doesn't have room in her head to think about it, right now. Before she can overthink or tell herself not to, she sits on the edge of the bed and tugs the blanket and sheet back so she can climb in.

Megamind frowns and mutters something, then says, "Minion?"

"It's just me," Roxanne tells him, her voice low, and his eyes pop open.

"Roxanne?" He lifts himself onto his elbow, then winces and lowers himself back down again. "Roxanne? What's—"

"Hush," she says as she slides down under the covers with him. 

He sounds much more lucid than he did earlier. "Is the sofa uncomfortable? Do you need me to—"

"The sofa is empty." Roxanne lies down facing away from him, then scoots until she can feel him at her back. "Is this okay?"

Megamind is very stiff. "I—but—"

Okay. "Megamind," Roxanne says, very quietly, "If you want me to leave you alone, I absolutely will. But I am freaking out. I feel like you're dying and I'm scared you hate me now and I'm scared of losing you. Okay? And—and so I need you to hold me, if that's okay. If it's not too much to ask." She swallows. Gulps, really, and squeezes her eyes closed against the tears that threaten to rise again. "I will go, if you want me to, but I really really want to just stay here with you tonight."

After a long moment, Megamind carefully moves closer. Even more carefully, slides his arm under her pillow, and drapes his other over her waist.

"Like this?" he asks. "Is this okay?"

Megamind's voice behind her is hesitant and raspy with sleep, nowhere near his usual laughing purr, but he's comfortingly close and his body is solid. Roxanne draws a shuddering breath and leans back against him. Takes his wrist and gently brings his splinted hand up in front of her chest so she can wrap her fingers around it. "This is perfect," she says. "Thank you."

"Is," he says, sounding totally baffled, "is this a—friends thing?"

She sniffs. "It can be," she tells him. "But this…this is a Megamind-and-Roxanne thing, I think."

"Ah? Ah."

Bit by bit, he relaxes. Roxanne feels the tension ebb out of his slender frame by degrees until eventually he shifts again, settling closer still, curling his knees in behind hers and turning his head to rest his cheek on the curve of her shoulder and neck. His skin is cool; his breath is cool on her skin.

After a while, she whispers, "I really do care about you."

"Oh," he says, sounding uncertain. "I…hoped you did. I wasn't…sure. You said you wouldn't talk yourself out of leaving."

"I don't have to talk myself out of it," she tells him. "I should never have said that in the first place. I really—I do care about you. I never stopped." She hesitates. She doesn't want to sound accusatory with this next part. "I tried to tell you, the next morning," she says, cautious, "and, um, a couple other times? But you never texted back."

He sucks in a breath. "Oh," he says again, now sounding absolutely shocked. "Oh, I—I couldn't—I thought we were done. I never dreamed you'd—I couldn't look at—even remembering I have a phone made me feel sick."

Relief swirls through her. "You didn't see my texts," she says.

"No, I—that's why you thought I didn't want to talk to you," he says. "Oh, Roxanne, I'm sorry. And I absolutely do not hate you, I—I'm sorry."

"That's okay," Roxanne says, relieved beyond words that he truly isn't upset with her. He seemed like he wasn't, earlier, but he also seemed like he wasn't all there. "I'm sorry I said I didn't want you in my life. You don't have to apologize; all you did was believe me."

"No, I assumed," Megamind tells her, earnest chagrin in his voice. "You didn't say you didn't want me, you said you wouldn't keep me. There's a difference."

Oh. That's right, she realizes, heart sinking, he doesn't forget anything. He's going to remember that forever. And everything else she's ever said to him, over the years; he remembers all of it. There are more than enough angry words there for him to convince himself she was serious.

Well. She'll just have to start giving him good words, instead.

"I want to keep you," Roxanne says. "I want you in my life. No matter what. I want to keep you in my life, and I know Rose and Salim want you in Derya's life, and—Megamind, I'm sorry. I never should have said that." She shakes her head. "I should have listened. I should have said…I should have just told you why I was so upset. And I should have tried to understand. I'm sorry."

Megamind takes a deep breath, releases it slowly. "It's okay," he says. His whole body is relaxed, now, folded close behind Roxanne. "I…should also have listened. This was important to you. You mentioned it before, too, at Waffle House."

"So did you," Roxanne has to point out. "It…and I'm listening now, if…"

"No," Megamind says with a sigh. "No, I'm…tired of saying it. And I suspect you've already reassessed what I said. You have a good memory. I want—" He swallows. "I would like to listen. Now. I want to try."

God, she loves him. Just, the trust that she's already thought about and considered what he said, even though she threw it in his face the last time they spoke—

And she has definitely thought of everything she wanted to say but couldn't find words for; she's been thinking of this all week, thinking of Megamind maybe hopefully someday listening to her, but now that he's here, it's hard to know where to start.

"I…I'm so sorry you've been hurt like this," she says. That's as good a place as any. "I do not ever want you to be hurt, at all, and I am so sorry that you have been hurt so badly and I had no idea, and—" She pauses, struggling. But he's listening, now. He said he's tired, he said he wants to try. "And I know," she finally says, "you can't see any other way to live. I know that. I know villainy is the only thing you can think of to do, and…and there's nothing else. I know that.

"And—but Megamind, if—if we could find another way for you to live, a safer way—a different way—would you want it? If it was there, would you take it?"

"I'm a villain," Megamind says, after a moment. "I'll always be a villain. I told you."

"But you weren't always," she replies. "You…and Megamind, you're a good person. Truly, you are." He goes a little bit tense again at that, and she very carefully squeezes his splinted hand. "I know you don't like hearing it, but you are. And, and what about before, when you were a kid?" she adds, before he can protest. "Think back. What did you want to be when you grew up? When you were a kid?"

He's quiet for a while. Eventually, he says, "I didn't…really think about growing up. Much. I caught just about every cold and flu there was before my immune system finally adjusted; I never expected to make it past twelve. And I learned exactly what I'm good for as far as the rest of the world is concerned when I was very small, anyway. So when I hit thirteen and it was already me and Minion against the world, I thought, okay, but there's no way I'll make it to twenty." He shrugs a little. "There didn't seem to be much of a point in wanting."

Roxanne blinks into the darkness, startled, dismayed. "Didn't you want anything?" she asks, and Megamind sighs again and seems to think for a while.

"I suppose I wanted to be happy," he finally says, low. "That would have been nice."

Oh.

Roxanne has to take a moment and gather herself to try and keep her voice steady, and even then, she doesn't really succeed. "And…are you? Now?"

"Not especially," he shrugs. "Villainy is engaging and I won't deny it has its moments, but…no, I would not say I'm happy overall. But that's not surprising. Or disappointing, really. Like I said, I never really expected things to work out for me."

Can there be a third time, he asked, weeks ago. And just before that, he said it was hard for him to remember good times without melancholy, and…oh, that does make more sense, now. With a mindset like this. Of course it would be hard to remember good times if he can't imagine he'll have another one, and from this, it sounds like Megamind has always lived with one foot in the grave, expecting to die. Of course happy memories would be tainted, then; he would live always thinking the best is behind him.

And maybe Roxanne should drop it. Maybe she should leave it there until she's thought about this a little more, maybe she shouldn't push him, but—but god, she can't—

"But if," she says, "if things could work out for you, would you want them to? You have me, now. And Rose and Salim, and Derya. That baby adores you, Megamind; we all care about you; can't you—will you try?"

"Try what," he says, a touch of irritation in his voice. "Try what? I told you before, there's nothing else out there for me, so—"

"I'm out here for you," Roxanne says, desperate. She grips his hand, backs off when he winces. "I'm here. I know what I said before, but I am not going anywhere."

"Roxanne…"

"No, really," Roxanne says. "Megamind, I'm right here. I'm right here, with you, and I am not leaving no matter what you do with your life but I just, I want you to be—were you—weren't you happy when you met Derya and Rose? Weren't you happy at the park with the fireflies? Were you happy then?"

"Of course, I was happy then," Megamind says tightly. "I was having fun, then. But—"

"Then let's go back," Roxanne says. "Let's go again! It's still hot out, we can go back to the lake and—"

"It won't be the same."

"That doesn't mean it won't be fun," she says, frantic to make him understand. "That doesn't mean you won't have a good time! We could—"

"You aren't listening," Megamind snaps, pressing his cheek to her shoulder, holding her tight against his chest. "None of this makes any difference. I'm—I'm still me, I'm still a villain, I'm—still the same godawful mess of a creature that couldn't figure out how to just fucking let go and die when it was seven and sick with strep and the flu simultaneously. Hell, Roxanne, I survived a black hole. My whole life is a near-death experience; a couple of day trips aren't going to change that. You aren't listening."

"I am too listening," Roxanne says, shoving past godawful mess of a creature with what feels like tremendous effort. "I am. I know, I know you can't see anything else in your future, but that doesn't mean there's nothing there, Megamind, and I am listening very carefully and you haven't said no. You haven't said you don't want to try. You've been shooting me down, but you haven't said no."

She thinks, wildly, with a sort of knee-jerk oh no as she hears the words leave her mouth—do I sound like Hal?—but no, no; Megamind is not afraid to say no to her. He's said no to her in the past, frequently. He might have trouble saying yes to the things he wants, but he has zero problems saying no, and Roxanne has no idea what it means that he isn't saying it now.

And he goes very still behind her. Roxanne bites her lip again to keep herself from continuing—something about the way he just froze and stopped breathing tells her she needs to let him turn that one over in his head for a while. Maybe…maybe it's something he didn't even realize?

She focuses on the feeling of his unsplinted finger and thumb curled around her hand, his arm around her. The cool, alive weight of his body behind hers, his faint heartbeat against her back. He hasn't moved away from her at all, the whole time they've been talking, not even when he started to get annoyed. He hasn't withdrawn once. If anything, he's held on even tighter.

"Roxanne…can you," Megamind says slowly, "truly envision a future for me that…that somehow does not end with me smeared across the pavement?" His throat moves against her back as he swallows. "Is that—is that honestly a thing you can see happening?"

That does it. Tears finally rise and trickle from the corners of her eyes onto the pillow. "Yes," she whispers. "Yes, it is. Megamind, I can see you being an old, old man someday."

She feels his face shift slightly against her shoulder. Frowning? "I can't," he says. "I…can't see that."

"That's okay," she begins, but he stops her.

"No," he says, still speaking slowly, and sounding sort of troubled, now. "No, it—it isn't, is it? I have a good imagination. And, and I can imagine death—dying—but. I can't. I can't imagine living." He pauses. "That…isn't good. Is it."

Roxanne gently presses his hand between hers. "No," she whispers. "No, it isn't good. But," she continues, before Megamind can reply, "it isn't bad, either. To feel that way. You can learn. It'll be hard, but—plenty of people do. You can be happy. You can learn how. I know you can, I promise. I'll help."

Megamind is quiet.

Roxanne swallows again and takes a deep breath, thinking as quickly as she can as a sort of half-plan forms in her head. It's a lot, and it's going to be personal and it's going to open her to questions and rejection and—but this is Megamind, it's just Megamind; he might question and reject her but he won't make fun.

(She should really just go ahead and tell him she loves him, but now is seriously not the time to make things about her and her feelings.)

"Okay, listen," she says. "I'll…I'll tell you what I see. What I want for you, for—for us. Close your eyes and try to picture this with me, okay?"

"Yes," Megamind murmurs.

"So, first, I want you to picture me forty years from now. I'm seventy-seven. I am wearing glasses and a cardigan and I have an old-lady haircut and lots of wrinkles and probably a cane because arthritis runs in my family. You with me so far?"

"I suppose…"

"Good. So. I want you to picture me like that. And I'm holding your hand." She grips his hand gently with both of hers, now, curling her fingers over and around his splinted blue ones. "I'm holding your hand, and we're…sitting. We're sitting on a porch swing in the sun on the roof of Evil Lair, in the garden with lots of flowers and bees and brainbots everywhere around us, and we're talking about how, a week from now, our nieces and nephews are coming to visit for a few days. Minion is there, too; he's…helping us plan activities. Things we want to show them, things we want to do. And hopefully one of you is handling meal planning, because I am just terrible at that.

"We're going to take them out on Lake Michigan," she continues, petting the side of his thumb. "You've built that hydrofoil you keep mentioning you want to try, and we're going to go out and go swimming, and…and fishing, maybe?

"The kids are grown and they'll have their own plans for some of the trip, of course, but they'll come back to Evil Lair in the evenings and tell us about their day. Maybe they'll bring their kids and we can babysit a little. Maybe we have grandbabies. Grand-niblings.

"Or, or maybe someone will bring a friend or some old college roommate over to the Lair for a while, and they'll tell a story about some silly thing like, hey remember the time we—and we'll all laugh. And you'll tell a story about—about Derya's graduation party—and we'll all groan, because you've told that story a hundred times over the years. And you'll pout and make fun right back because come on, how are you supposed to know how often humans have to be reminded of things in order to remember them?

"And…and one night, while they're visiting, they'll take the three of us out for dinner. You and Minion and me. We'll all go out to eat, and you and Minion don't have to worry about anyone seeing you and calling the cops or screaming. You haven't had to worry about that in years. You don't even think of it—because—because you know you're safe. And I've forgotten my reading glasses, so I have to borrow yours in order to read the menu, and you laugh at me because I'm all grumbly because your prescription is stronger than mine. Minion tells me for the umpteenth time that I should really just get bifocals. And…and we're just…" She gulps. It's a miracle she's managed to hold her voice steady for this long; she's finally starting to crack. "We're just. Another old couple out to eat with our family. You're blue, and Minion is a fish, and we're together with our family. And—and we're—happy. We got to watch Derya grow up, and we got to grow old with my sister and her husband, and—we're happy."

She falls silent, struggling with herself. After a moment, Megamind moves his head and presses his cheek to Roxanne's hair. His arm around her is very tight, now, squeezing her against his chest. Roxanne wouldn't have it any other way.

"Can you," she says, in an extremely wobbly voice, "can you picture that? With me? Can you think of that?"

Megamind makes a low, soft sound, close to her ear. "Almost," he whispers. "I—I almost can."

"Great, and do you want it?" Roxanne asks, frantic and choked. "Because you can have it, Megamind. We can do it, we can make it happen. I know we can, I know we can. Just because your whole life is a near-death experience doesn't mean you have to live like you're about to die; just because most supervillains die young doesn't mean you can't keep being an outlier.

"And it is most, Megamind," she adds, "it is not all; I've been doing research and I think I've tracked down a couple of supervillains from the eighties living on a volcanic island in the Pacific. There are some who do live and I promise, I promise you can be one of them, so—so, do you—could you ever want that? Any of what I said?"

Megamind nods hard. Presses his face to her hair, then tips his head down and shoves his forehead against the curve of her skull and nods again or nuzzles there. "Yes," he says, his voice muffled but sounding pretty much as thick as Roxanne's. "Yes, I, I do, I—I want all of it. Everything you said. I want—I want all of it, everything. Everything."

Roxanne squeezes his fingers, strokes his arm. "Good," she whispers. "Good. Me, too. I want all that, too."

He brings his other arm down a little, under the curve of her neck so he can curl it up around her shoulders. "But," he manages, "with, with—me? You want—that, what you said—you want—with—"

"You, yes," Roxanne says. "I do. Megamind…god. Um." She sniffs hard and shoves herself backwards against his chest. "Listen, we'll…talk more in the morning, okay? This is a lot, I know I've just dropped a lot on you, can we…can we talk in the morning?"

His gulp is clearly audible. "We can talk. In, in the morning. Yes. We can do that."

She nods. "Just…think about not dying. In the short term, if that's easier. We'll go back to the park this weekend, okay? Think about Star Lake. Maybe Minion will come, this time. The water will be warmer, now; I'll be able to swim with you for longer. And I'll bring goggles and a snorkel so you can show me where the tadpoles are."

"That sounds nice," he whispers.

Roxanne nods. "It does," she says, "it does sound nice. And there might still be a few lightning bugs out and about. I'll show you how to catch them. We can catch grasshoppers, too. We can—" Oh, who cares, caution to the winds— "if you want, we can try to catch enough that it's worth trying to cook them. Okay?"

Megamind heaves a sigh, then nods and finally turns to rest his cheek on her shoulder again. "I'd like that."

Oh sweet lord oh christ jesus I have really got it bad, Roxanne thinks wildly. I am volunteering to eat bugs for this man.

She can't just leave it here. She can't. She desperately wants to sleep, but more than that she just wants—

"Goodnight," she whispers. "Goodnight, I love you."

Megamind's hands twitch and his breathing sort of—hitches—but his voice when he speaks is low and steady. "Goodnight," he replies. "I love you, too."

Chapter Text

Roxanne wakes to morning sunlight streaming through the office's east-facing window behind her. Megamind is still wrapped around her like a starfish, holding her with both arms and his legs tangled in hers, breathing slow and steady against the curve of her shoulder.

Someday, she wants to wake up holding him like this.

She yawns. "Megamind," she murmurs, stroking his unbandaged fingers and his arm. "Megamind, hey."

He makes a complaining grumbly noise and twitches a little. Roxanne grins and keeps stroking his hand, and eventually he stirs and—hisses an odd sort of chattering buzz at her, like an angry red squirrel, and he pulls his arms in and rolls away and curls up in a little ball on his other side.

Roxanne sits up and looks down at him, amused and somewhat befuddled.

She has no idea how his hip issue works. If there's a shard of bone in the joint, then he shouldn't be so bendy, should he? He has trouble if he straightens out too quickly, but—is that all? Is he still just as bendy as he would be otherwise, he just can't stretch as quickly?

Well, he's still alive. She has time to find out.

Megamind needs his sleep, she decides, and Minion is missing from his place under the window, so she yawns again and then heads downstairs to see what's happening.

Minion is having an exceptionally strange morning.

Both of his bipeds were still asleep when his suit woke him automatically at seven, and he didn't think it would be right to wake them—they both had a long night, and Sir was openly clinging, which he wouldn't appreciate Minion seeing. Let alone Miss Ritchi, but…well, there wasn't a whole lot Minion could do about that except for a preemptive strike with the forget-me stick, and Minion was not about to use the forget-me stick on Miss Ritchi.

So. Not much he could do. So he went downstairs. And he went quietly, hoping not to wake anyone else up if he didn't have to—but there was a tall woman in the living room who could only be Rose, working on a laptop on the coffee table. The twin brainbots were snoozing on the sofa next to her, and Derya was on her play mat on the floor, knocking around with her toys. Rose looked up when Minion stepped into the dining room, and she gave him a sunny smile and waved him over, shifting her laptop aside and standing up.

She told him good morning. Said it was great to finally meet him. Shook his hand. Waved him into a chair and insisted it was okay if he broke it by accident of his weight.

And she didn't seem to mind if he had trouble figuring out how to reply. She chatted easily to him and invited him to come along on her walk with Derya so smoothly that Minion found himself nodding and turning on his disguise generator almost without even thinking about it.

She's worried about Megamind, she said, as they walked. And she sounded worried, which Minion just did not know what to do with. He can reassure Sir, and he can usually manage to be reassuring with Miss Ritchi, but anyone else—anyone else is a mystery.

But maybe she wasn't looking for reassurance? She kept talking, making her concerns known and asking simple questions. Occasionally patting Minion's arm when he responded. Occasionally pausing by stop signs to…check her phone? Send messages? Minion wasn't sure what that was about. Minion has only had a few humans speak with him this way, and while it makes sense—of course Rose would know Minion is fully sentient; of course Roxanne would have told her—it still throws him.

And when they got home, Salim and Roxanne were awake—hooray!—and Metro Man was hovering up in a corner near the ceiling. Not hooray. Not hooray at all.

But he offered up a wan sort of smile as Minion came in behind Rose, and he didn't say anything as Roxanne came to hug Minion and get him settled in his armchair again, and—most importantly—he didn't attack.

He said "good morning." In fact. Which was just the wildest thing.

And then Rose and Salim sat on the sofa next to each other, and Miss Ritchi sat in the other armchair but her body was turned to face Minion, and she said—

"Minion, I'm scared. Can I talk to you?"

And she was wearing a similar unhappy pleading face to the one Sir wears when he's in the middle of one of his downswings and hasn't slept in three days. So…

So now Minion is sitting in a strange room, with strange people and his arch-nemesis and Miss Ritchi. But Minion really only cares about one of those things, and if Miss Ritchi is this upset and nobody is attacking, then Minion can table his uncertain fears for now.

Besides, the door is just to his right, and Minion's path is totally unobstructed. That helps.

So he nods. "Yes," he says, "yes, you can talk to me. You can always talk to me, Miss Ritchi. What's wrong?"

"I am so, so worried about you," she says, staring at him and squeezing her hands together between her knees. "I don't even know how to explain how worried I am. But, um. Rose was texting me, a little bit, earlier? While she was talking to you? And…and it sounds like…you're prepared to lose Megamind, one of these days. Or he's prepared to lose you."

Minion nods slowly and tries to get his brain in gear, tries to work out where she's going with this. "Our plans do mostly focus on me staying out of the way," he says. "But, yes, we are both aware of…risks."

Roxanne swallows. "Okay. That's…look. I need to run something by you, just…hypothetically? Sort of. Not actually hypothetically. I just, I need you to bear with me, okay?"

Minion frowns, nods.

"If," Roxanne says, keeping her eyes on his face, "if we could find a way for you and Megamind to retire from villainy safely, do you think you could be on board with that?"

He stares at her.

That's…

Minion hasn't dared consider such a thing in years. Not since Sir lost his arm and Minion tried to get him to please give this up, please, we'll find something else, we can leave Metro City and move to the coast where no one knows us. Or pull a Butch and Sundance and go to Bolivia, lose ourselves in the Amazon river basin. Or Australia. Live in the Great Barrier Reef, work on restoring the corals there. Anywhere, anywhere but here.

Megamind wouldn't have it. Very vocally and adamantly would not have it. So Minion gave up.

But, okay. Here it is again.

He flares his fins, gathers himself. "I am not sure," he says, "what the context for this is, Miss Ritchi. But I'm afraid Sir is quite set on his current path. He doesn't…it doesn't help when I ask. He only gets upset."

Roxanne bites her lip.

"What is the context for this?" Minion asks. He knows he hasn't answered her question, but it was awfully heavy, a loaded question if Minion has ever heard one, and he desperately needs some kind of explanation before he can even begin to contemplate a real response.

Roxanne sends him a smile that wobbles at the corners and doesn't reach her eyes. "The context is I'm in love with him," she says, and Minion's brain goes clunk and screeches to a grinding, sputtering halt.

What.

What. She's—

—No, okay, come on, think! Think, Minion. Think. Sir came roaring back to Evil Lair a week ago with tears in his eyes and rage in his voice and blood in his mouth from where he bit through the inside of his lip, and he wouldn't stop on the battlesuit and he wouldn't slow down and he wouldn't tell Minion what was wrong. None of which are good signs. Minion has watched Megamind self-destruct before, and this was going to be a bad one; he could tell. He wasn't surprised when Megamind didn't come back to Evil Lair after Jawbreaker fell—just terribly, terribly worried, but willing to stick it out until the agreed-upon time to start searching after no contact post-battle—but he was surprised when he found Megamind's watch at Roxanne's family's house.

But. Minion has been assuming Sir had some kind of fight with Miss Ritchi, some kind of argument. Have they made up, then? Minion already sort of noticed something like a romantic attachment happening, right? And people with romantic feelings fight sometimes; he knows this. And then they make up, sometimes. And Roxanne came to go to bed with Megamind and Megamind was clinging this morning, so. This. Is not actually a surprise, he decides. Minion just wasn't expecting to hear it right now.

"I am in love with him," Roxanne says again, and Minion realizes that he has been staring at her with his mouth open. "But I want you to know—I love you, too. Um." She bites her lip, looks down at her hands, completely unaware that Minion's brain is now just one big question mark. "Kind of a lot. Actually. In, in a—friendly way? But I've had friends before, and this, with you…um. And." She swallows hard. "And so I am scared. Really scared. Because—and I know, I know most of your battles are arranged so you stay out of the line of fire, Minion," she adds, "but it's him or you. It's only a matter of time. And no matter who goes first, it is going to break my heart. So I'm…sort of selfishly terrified, here." She's blinking hard. "And there are other ways. There are other ways to be and it sounds like maybe you know that, and I think he might actually go for them, now? But you would have to want to retire, too. We both know he'll never do it without you. So."

She bites her lips together, and she looks like she's struggling but Minion is still just…sort of staring at her and trying to figure out if his ears are working. After a moment, Roxanne looks at her sister and does something with her eyebrows.

"Minion," Rose says quietly, and he jumps and looks around at her. "One of these days, one of you is going to get hurt beyond what either of you can repair. And you're going to die."

Minion blinks a couple of times. "—Well, yes," he says. "Obviously. That—that is generally what happens to villains, yes." Then he frowns. "But," he adds, "I do this because he's committed. And if…if it doesn't have to be that way, then…" He looks back at Roxanne, who's gone pale under her freckles. "If you're sure, if there is another way and you think he'll go for it and you think it's possible, then…well, the last time he expressed discontent with villainy was years ago. And he was, um, not in a good place? But, but I'll…talk to him. I'm game to try, Miss Ritchi. If you're sure."

"It really does not have to be that way," Salim says, after a minute during which Miss Ritchi sits motionless and stares at him.

Rose reaches over to Minion and pats his hand. Smiles encouragingly up at him when he snaps back around in his dome to look at her. "We'll help you both figure something out. Whatever we can do. Okay?"

"I've got a couple ideas," Metro Man says, very quietly, up in his corner near the ceiling.

Minion studies him in wary silence, his eyes narrow.

"I'm…glad you're on board, Wayne," Roxanne says, apparently having found her voice. "Thank you."

Minion looks back at her, frowning in disapproval.

"Miss Ritchi…"

"I do not want him to die, Minion," she says, very sharply. "Or you. And you don't have to. I took some time off work to do some digging and I'm pretty sure I've located a couple of former supervillains leading a happy retirement on an island in the Circum-Pacific Belt."

Minion recoils and stares at her. Well, that's a revelation and no mistake! Sir will be interested to know that, for sure, if she hasn't told him already.

"You can retire," she tells him. "You both can. The main challenge here is going to be figuring out how to do it without committing pseudocide."

"But I do also have some ideas on that, if you decide you want them," Metro Man puts in, and this time it's Roxanne's turn to glare at him. He spreads his hands. "Hey, you said 'options,' I'm giving options."

Minion studies Roxanne for a moment. "We're really doing this," he says, finally. "You're…going to help us retire."

Roxanne nods and takes a deep breath. "Last night drove it home, urgency-wise, but I was already sort of thinking about it," she admits. "He mentioned a couple old wounds, once, and I realized. He has been a supervillain for fourteen years. The average for a villain is eight. And the average for a supervillain is seven, and the only reason it's that high is because Megamind's record is skewing it higher. The median is five." She shrugs, helplessness in her expression. "We're…we're down to the wire, here, Minion. You're running out the clock. So, yes, I'm going to help you retire, because—because my only other option is watching you die."

And then her expression sort of—it pinches? like Sir's sometimes does? Minion isn't sure what—

"And I will," Roxanne says, shakily, but it isn't until she gives a wet-sounding sniff and scrubs the heel of her hand over her cheek that Minion realizes this face is a crying face, oh no. "I will do that, if I have to. But I—I really love you guys, and I just—" She cuts herself off with a sort of stuttered hiccup as her face finally crumples for real.

Oh. Oh, she means that, when she says she loves them.

Minion lurches out of his seat and over to her, where he picks her right up out of her chair and into a hug. And apparently this was the correct move, because she wraps both arms around his dome and squeezes.

"You don't have to, Miss Ritchi," Minion says, patting her and trying to get his head around all this—any of this—as she breathes unsteadily against his glass. "You don't have to, probably. We'll push him. But I'll…need to talk to him, of course, first. Um. Confirm, with him, some…things? But. We can do this. I think, probably, if we both try."

Roxanne nods. Minion pats her again, his head spinning.

"And I love you, too," he adds, because it seems like the thing to say. And it's true enough, in any case. Roxanne clings tighter.

So, yeah.

Minion's morning? Deeply weird.

Megamind wakes to an empty bed. Roxanne is gone; he knows as soon as he wakes up that her warmth is missing from the bed. But that's okay. He wasn't really expecting her to stay.

Slowly, he sits up.

Everything in his body hurts, a low, dull ache. Minion brought his spare prosthetic and helped him into it with his pajamas last night when he came in, so at least his hand isn't twitching and sending little jolts of Ouch up to the stump of his arm anymore, but yes, Rose's hit by a bus assessment feels pretty accurate. What all even happened, last night? He thinks back, tries to remember.

He remembers—he remembers the suit going down, catching his glove and ripping it away as it threw him; he remembers picking himself up off the street and stumbling away into an alley before the cops could catch up with him after he split his head open on the curb. He remembers realizing where he was, what part of town. He remembers thinking—

He wasn't thinking at all when he staggered the two blocks to Rose and Salim's house. He remembers—Rose opening the door, and he remembers Rose helping him—bathe, god—helping him dress, bandaging his head—and he remembers Salim giving him clothes—remembers Salim giving him warm honey water—and—he remembers Roxanne, Roxanne at his side, Roxanne calling him friend again, Roxanne's head pressed to his as he cried in her arms like a child, and Derya falling asleep on his shoulder after shocking him out of his dissociative episode by babbling something that sounded like a very heavily-accented approximation of comfort-affection at him.

Well. This is embarrassing.

The door swings open and he looks up to see Roxanne standing in the doorway, wearing her rumpled clothes from yesterday.

"Oh good, you're awake," she says. "Breakfast should be ready in a little while."

Megamind nods fractionally and scrubs his hand over the side of his blue face as Roxanne steps inside and pulls the door mostly closed behind her. "Do you think," he says, his voice still rough with sleep and lingering exhaustion, "if I go out the window, skip town, and change my name, everyone will forget last night?"

She blinks. "I'm not sure we would want to," she says, coming over to him and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Last night seems like the kind of thing we need to talk about."

Megamind groans and flops onto his back and yanks the blanket up over his face. "No," he says, muffled. "I live here, now."

Roxanne chuckles but doesn't say anything, and Megamind lies still for a moment and breathes.

How is he going to do this.

Well, she came and got into bed with him, and she tried to text him after their fight, and it really does sound like Megamind cannot possibly mess this up any worse than he already has—which may not be at all, shockingly—so. He sighs and pushes the blanket down to his chest and closes his eyes.

"Listen," he says. "Roxanne. Listen. I…I was upset, last night, and—people say things, sometimes, when they're upset."

(I was tired, he almost says, I didn't know what I was saying; I was overwhelmed and in pain; I didn't mean it)

"But—what you said," he says, fighting to hold himself steady, "about—growing old, watching Derya graduate—I do want it. Even if I can't imagine it." His voice cracks, starts to break again. "It sounds nice. It sounds nice and I want it." He sniffs, blinks hard, feels the corners of his mouth turn down. "I want it a lot," he admits, and pulls a shaky breath. Turns his face away, embarrassed all over again.

Roxanne crawls the rest of the way onto the bed and sits by his hips, facing him with one leg curled under her. "We're going to make it happen," she tells him. "Okay? I promise. We'll do better."

Megamind slowly pushes himself to sit back up into a slouch. "I don't see how," he says, as the blanket falls around his waist. And oh, oh good, Miss Ritchi gets to see his pajamas! Wonderful. Another embarrassment. Add it to the pile. Megamind is really batting a thousand, this morning.

"I know," Roxanne says. "That's okay. Just…hey, turn that thing off, would you? The projection." She smiles a little. "Turn it off, let me look at you."

He eyes her skeptically, but he does adjust his watch so the illusion flickers and dissipates. "I'm not sure how this is something you want to look at."

"It's your face," Roxanne says, clearly appalled at this. "Of course I want to look at it."

"The underlay is also my face," he points out. Roxanne gives him a Look.

"The underlay was your face," she says flatly. "You've lived since then. It's okay to wear your life."

"And show everyone how easily I can be hurt," he returns. "Oh, yes, good plan. That will turn out well for me."

Roxanne's expression softens. "Hiding doesn't seem to have worked out terribly well for you anyway, Megamind," she says, and he looks away. She reaches up to brush her knuckles over the side of his head above the metal plate and Megamind jerks back on reflex, and Roxanne jumps, starts to stammer an apology. Megamind waves at her, shaking his head.

"No, no, it's okay." He's laughing in spite of himself. "Sorry. It's fine. I'm just. Jumpy. And, and the underlay—well, it allows some tactile input to come through. Pressure. Temperature. But it's not perfect." He flushes. "So, touching is, ah. Feels new."

She studies him for a moment, and then she slowly places her hand on his cheek, the way she did after his eye got stuck, and Megamind—allows himself to lean into her palm, allows his eyes to slip closed.

"Mmm." He sighs. Then he sighs again and murmurs, as he did last night, "What are you doing."

"Holding you," Roxanne tells him, as she did before. And this is fine; Megamind is not about to look this gift horse in the mouth. Not yet. He isn't sure where all the touching is coming from but he is not about to complain. Especially not with the underlay off—he feels pulled to her hand like he's holding himself straight in a strong current, held steady by the rush of the water around him. There's power, there, that could hurt him, but Megamind knows his currents and he knows Roxanne and he knows he's safe.

Eventually, Megamind straightens and opens his eyes. Roxanne's cheeks are pink, but she doesn't meet his gaze as she drops her hand.

"I've been talking with Minion and Rose and Salim all morning," she says, before Megamind can say anything else or figure out how to ask any of the questions burning in his mind. She looks down, plucking at a fold in the blanket. "And Wayne. He keeps insisting he owes me for the years I spent bearding for him, and I'm calling in that favor. The current plan is to have him retire, too, at the same time as you. Same press conference. Pending your go-ahead, of course," she adds, glancing up. "And probably with some kind of initial transition period. Ease into it, a little."

Megamind swallows. "Together," he says, uncertain and momentarily distracted. "Oh, that…that could…maybe work?" There's no precedent for a solo pair of declared arches stepping down simultaneously in a metropolitan territory. Then again, there are no other solo arches in a metropolitan territory the size of Metro. And the Scott family's lawyers are ruthless; if Wayne really does support this and they can figure out how to make it pull through…

"He has some ideas," Roxanne says. "You should hear them from him, but he has a few that I really do think might work. And you wouldn't have to spend the rest of your life in jail or anything like that."

"I probably should," he admits. "I've done my best but…well. I do have blood on my hands. I can't pretend I don't."

"You have always done your due diligence to make sure people get out of your way," Roxanne says flatly. "No, it hasn't always worked perfectly, and yes, that's a tragedy, but you have tried. And you take care of the people directly affected by your messes and you take care of their families."

"'Yes, your honor, I killed him, but I didn't mean to!' 'Oh, well, if you didn't mean to then it's fine.'" Megamind rolls his eyes. "Please."

Roxanne flicks his knee. "So do better," she tells him. "You can't take it back, so do better. Use the brainbots to defend and help out around the city instead of attacking it, leverage that for a full pardon while everyone is freaking out about Metro Man stepping down. And I know you, you old villain," she adds, grinning suddenly. "I am sure you can make yourself difficult for the people running this town by legitimate means, too."

Megamind scoffs and wrinkles his nose at her, but he doesn't argue.

"And I'll help," Roxanne adds, smiling at him with soft eyes. "Of course I'll help."

He smiles back but can't bring himself to reply, and after a moment, Roxanne cocks her head.

"This is all very important," he says, taking a deep breath. "But. I'm. Having trouble focusing on it? I'm…I don't know how to ask you this."

She frowns. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, just…" He pauses, heart aching. As much as he doesn't want to ask, doesn't want to disrupt this beautiful place where Roxanne wants him to hold her and is comfortable sleeping in bed with him and wants to touch his face—wants to hold him, too, despite their history and all his scars and mistakes—well, Roxanne said it already, didn't she? Last night is something they need to talk about.

Slowly, he moves his hand so it rests just above her bent knee at his side. He keeps his eyes on her face the whole time, his expression wary as he curls his fingers over her leg.

Roxanne holds very still.

Megamind swallows. Breathes. She didn't pull away; Megamind has his hand on her leg and she isn't pulling away; he can do this.

"Last night," he says, "the future you described. The one where I…live." He bites his lip. "You were there, in that future. I don't know if that was just to help me visualize, but you were there. With me. You called us—" He dares, very gently, to push his fingertips against her skin. "You called us a couple, you said our family, and—and I asked if you could want that with me, and you said I do but let's talk in the morning. And." He takes another deep breath, holds it for a moment.

"Megamind—"

"And as I said," he continues, "we were both upset, and tired, and—but I, I told you already: I definitely want it, everything. I meant that. I meant every word, Roxanne. And—and you said you wanted it, too, but—"

"I meant it," Roxanne says, putting her hand over his, her gaze flicking back and forth between his eyes. "I meant it, too. I want all that, too, someday. For now," she picks up his hand and runs her fingers over his silicone skin as he slowly wraps his long fingers around hers, "I want to see you more often. More than just texting; I want—I want to go on some real dates, with you, if you want to. I want to see more of you.

"And I want you to know that I really do love you," she says, and Megamind feels his breath catch. He knows his eyebrows went up at 'dates' but he wasn't—expecting— "I meant that, too, when I said it. I realized weeks ago. At the lake, when you let me hug you. You put your arms around me and I could smell you and I just…you're so sweet, and funny, and—and certainly very striking, physically. Um." She blushes. Shakes her head. "Anyway. I love you."

Megamind is staring, he knows, but he can't—he can't—

"What?" he breathes. "I thought—but I thought you were just referencing the time you fell asleep in Evil Lair, I thought—"

"I mean, I was," Roxanne says. "But I did also mean it. And it's okay if you only responded in kind because you were upset, or you were finishing the reference," she says quickly. "I get that, Megamind, truly." She squeezes his hand again, offers him a nervous-looking smile. "If all you want is a friend, you've definitely got one. But, if you want more, then I am—so, so very into that."

So—wait, she's—this thing, this thing Megamind realized was sinking silver claws into his heart when he thought everything was ruined—Roxanne is with him, in this thing? This is not something that spun out of Megamind's empty life on its own, not something he has to try to break or burn out of himself, this is—this is something they built together? accidentally? it sounds like? And she means it, she does; he can see in her face that she means it and he knows, he knows she won't lie to him.

"Oh," he says, finally, feeling at once like he's going to sing and he's going to shatter. "Oh, you—but I'm—" He touches his arm, the side of his face.

She smiles a little, then leans forward and reaches up to brush her fingertips forward over the sides of his head and down so she can cup his face and stroke her thumbs over his cheeks. "I wish you weren't hurt," she tells him. "But for what it's worth, you do wear the scars well. You are ridiculously handsome, truly."

Megamind swallows as she leans in. Wait, does she want—is she serious—even without the underlay? "Roxanne, you don't have to—"

She pauses, their mouths an inch apart, and Megamind flinches his eyes closed and hears himself make a soft, pleading noise. "I just told you," she murmurs. "I want all of that with you. Everything. I love you, Megamind; please let me kiss you."

Megamind sways forward and kisses her. Presses his lips to hers for a second and then—he tries to withdraw but he can't, he just can't, so he kisses her again instead and feels her lips curve into a smile against his mouth. After a moment, Roxanne cups the edge of his jaw in one hand and the back of his head in her other and holds him that way, keeps him close, so Megamind stops trying to make himself lean back and just goes with it, allows himself to be led. Roxanne brushes her lips over his and presses their mouths together and kisses him again—and again—and again, and he can feel her taking care to avoid the wound on his lower lip, can feel how she doesn't shy away from the uneven dip of scar tissue under her mouth, and he can barely think of anything except yes and Roxanne and perfect perfect perfect love you yes yes yes.

He's just barely managing to dizzily wonder if she'll let him deepen this or maybe even let him push her down onto her back so he can wrap himself around her again, when she carefully, softly eases away to send him the most brilliant smile he's ever seen in his life. Megamind hasn't seen her look like that since she got the news about Derya and he never, he never expected to see her look like that again, let alone because of him.

"I love you, too," he gasps, because he has to, because he can't keep it in anymore. "I love—I love you, too, I—I'm so sorry, I didn't even know it until you left and I thought—I thought that was it and we were done and—you said, you said—and later I realized, oh, that's why." He swallows and gathers himself, twitches a smile at her as he lifts his hand to gently touch her hair with the tips of his splinted fingers. "And, and can I just say," he adds, with something a little like laughter and a little like tears in his voice, "watch me do both was a fantastic parting shot and I was very impressed?"

Roxanne laughs, her expression rueful. "Yeah," she says, scooting a bit closer to him so she can—Megamind isn't sure what, actually; side-by-side and facing each other is not optimal for cuddles or even hugging, but he's not going to complain about having her closer. "But you didn't see me crying afterwards, so." She touches his far shoulder, then slides her hand up to cup the side of his long neck, brush her thumb up the line of his jaw, and all of Megamind's skin tingles and goes hot.

He just shrugs, though, studying her face with one wide green eye and one wider white and silver one. "You didn't see me, either," he says. "So we're even."

"I'm sorry," Roxanne whispers, but Megamind shakes his head.

"No," he says, finally reaching for her as well, touching her shoulders, her hair, the curve of her cheek, "you were right. I was…less right?"

Roxanne chokes off a laugh and takes his chin in her hand, pets the soft line of his facial hair. "The word you want is wrong, Megamind."

He kisses her thumb. "If you want," he says. "Anyway. You were right. Villainy is fine, but I will die if I keep this up, and I don't actually want that. I haven't for a while," he adds, "but…I thought, for a long time, I still didn't care. If I lived or died." He sighs and leans forward and sideways to rest his forehead against Roxanne's, taking her hands in his and trying again to come up with some kind of picture in his head of the glimmering future she laid out for him, where they're old and together and happy. "But I do care. I'm tired of trying not to, I'm tired of trying to be okay. And I love you. So, if you're sure I can do something else…then I'll try to figure it out."

Roxanne smiles. "Thank you," she says, squeezing his hands. "For agreeing to try. I know it's a lot to ask."

He shrugs again and tries not to chafe at being thanked. "It's something new," he says. "I just…I don't know how to…not do this? What I've been doing?" He frowns, then glances up at her. "And I love you, by the way; I'm not sure if I've made that—clear—" He ducks forward and kisses her again, heart soaring when she makes a pleased sound and kisses him back.

Then she pulls away, and surprises him when she turns around and lies down on one elbow. "Here," she says, reaching up for him with her other hand. "Come here, lie down. Can you lie on your back? My knee is cramping up sitting like that and I'm sick of not hugging you."

Megamind follows where she guides him, down onto his back with his arm away from his side so Roxanne can settle next to him and pillow her head on his chest, hug her arm around his narrow body. And oh, this…this is lovely. Holding her last night was also wonderful, was absolutely amazing, but this feels less restrictive. Less like he's holding her captive and more like she's there by choice. She did ask, he knows; she asked him to hold her like that, he just…feels less uncertain about it, this way.

"So," Roxanne says. "We have to get breakfast, soon, but…here's what I'm thinking. You can't see much in your future. So, for now, we're not going to look at the future outside of concrete plans that exist. We can make any additional plans we want, but other than that…don't worry about the uncertainty. Just take time as it comes. Is that something you can do?"

He hesitates, wrapping his arm up around her waist and sifting the fingers of his other hand through her hair. The tactile sensors in his prosthetic are far from perfect, especially for soft textures, but he can at least feel the drag of her strands between his fingers. "Maybe?" he hazards. "Can I have an example?"

"We'll go back to the park this weekend," Roxanne says. "You can look forward to that. But don't think about tomorrow; for now, just get through today. Pick small, easy things to do. Play with the brainbots. Play with Derya."

"I don't know," Megamind says, doubt in his voice. "I don't…small things are good, but…it gets worse when I don't have something big to think about? In the background?"

"That's what we're going to talk to Wayne about, today," Roxanne says. "The big stuff. We'll get you a project, don't worry."

Megamind hums, uncertain.

"Okay," Roxanne says, in the tone of someone who's just had an idea, "I'll tell you what. You've got a niece, now, right? And you want to give her a good world to raise her kids in, if she has them? Solve global warming."

He lets out a startled laugh. "Global warming," he says, incredulous, "really?"

"Hey, it's the biggest thing I can think of, and you've got a personal stake in it, now." She is also sort of laughing, but Megamind knows her well enough to be able to tell when she's only half-joking. "And I know for a fact you want to give Derya the world, so do it. Stabilize the arctic for her. Figure out sustainable fishing and figure out how to get everyone on board with it. There's a ton of humans who'll help. They've got networks and resources already; they just need a systems guy to coordinate their efforts across multiple fronts and put pressure where it's needed."

Megamind turns this over in his head for a few seconds. It's not a bad idea. If he's going to live in this world, he might as well fix it up while he's here, right? It's his planet, anyway. He found it, sort of. So it's his. Finders, keepers.

"I suppose," he says. "Yes. I could…maybe do something with that. I'm good at pressure."

Roxanne laughs. "I'll say. I received a surprisingly comprehensive apology letter from Hal, last week." She's grinning, he can hear it, but the name still pricks at his good mood. "Handwritten. Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"That depends," he says, disgruntled. "What did it say?"

"Well, I have no idea if he actually meant any of it," she says. "Knowing Hal, I doubt it. He was quite specific, but he was also insistent that his grandmother was making him write to me under duress, despite his concerns about…keeping his fingernails? I think?" She laughs a little. "It was in messy cursive and kind of difficult to read, but I'm pretty sure it said fingernails. He seemed very worried."

"Goodness," says Megamind, deadpan. "I wonder why that could be."

Roxanne lifts herself up on her arm and frowns down at him, but her lips are twitching. "Megamind, did you threaten Hal with some unknown terrible fate and then inflict him on his poor grandmother?"

He wrinkles his nose. "Absolutely not," he says, affronted. "I threatened him with a very specific terrible fate and suggested, tactfully, that his grandmother might appreciate a visit."

Roxanne gives a bright laugh, and Megamind's heart flutters. "I shouldn't find that as sweet as I do," she says, gazing down at him with amusement and fondness in her eyes, "but I do. But leave him alone, okay? He's not worth it."

Megamind's eyes narrow. "It's important to follow through on threats," he says.

"Megamind."

He rolls his eyes. "Oh, all right. I will consider letting him have this one. Maybe."

She ducks her head and kisses him. "Thank you. That's all I want. And—oh." Megamind has just leaned up and tilted his head for another kiss, lips parted and eyes half-lidded, and Roxanne is only too happy to oblige. She lingers on this one, kissing him until he hums, and when she lifts her head and looks at him she finds that all the sharp lines of his years-older face have gone soft and relaxed.

He is somehow even more attractive now, which is something Roxanne had not realized could be possible. He aged incredibly well. And lying here with her, gazing up at her with gentle eyes and a wondering smile, lifting his hand to stroke her cheek and then carefully draw her back down for another kiss—opening his mouth under hers with a gasp when she teases his lips with her tongue—

Roxanne wins so hard. She knows she's got a rough road ahead, but Megamind is more than worth it. She wins so hard.

"Okay seriously," she finally says, breaking the kiss and sitting up with no small amount of regret, "we should go downstairs and have breakfast. Salim is making lamb sausage and it smells incredible and I am so hungry."

Megamind sits up, too, already missing the warmth of her. Really? Already? He's about to flip his life on its head; can't he just stay in bed and let it happen?

Apparently not. Apparently turning his life around requires him to get up and do things, ugh.

Roxanne climbs off the bed and holds out her hands to help him to his feet, but Megamind surprises himself and puts his hands on her waist, instead, and pulls her gently to stand between his knees. And then he leans forward and wraps his arms around her, hides his face against her stomach.

"Thank you," he says, muffled, "for not saying 'I told you so.'"

"Minion may not be so gracious," she warns, with a smile in her voice and her hands petting gently over the skin of his head.

Megamind withdraws, scowling again. "Minion never is," he grumbles.

Roxanne laughs and bends to kiss his crown, then goes over to the duffel Minion brought, which is sitting on the office's swivel chair. "Come on, love," she says. "Let's get you dressed and put some food in you."

Chapter Text

Megamind takes a deep breath as he steps into Rose and Salim's dining room, unconsciously lifts his chin and squares his shoulders. He is still deeply embarrassed about allowing anyone to see him in the state he was in last night, and while he isn't limping half as badly as he was, coming downstairs without his underlay feels like it can only backfire spectacularly, somehow. The shirt he's wearing is another short-sleeved black one with a floral print, which means his prosthetic is fully visible, and that's…he doesn't like that, either.

Wayne's jaw drops as Megamind steps onto the hardwood floor. "Jesus," he says, and it honestly is not evident whether he means it as a prayer or an oath. "Was…did I do all of that?"

"The split lip was you," Megamind says dryly, pausing in the wide doorway into the living room. Behind him, Rose and Salim appear to be finishing up getting breakfast ready in the kitchen. The table is already set. "The split lip, and the arm." He flexes his fingers a couple times, glancing down at his prosthetic. "The rest was mostly me, trying to hurt you. And various cops, over the years. A couple of gangsters." His expression darkens. "Someone I trusted."

Wayne shakes his head, stunned. "I'm…I'm so sorry, little buddy. I had no idea."

"Not many people do," Megamind admits, frowning. "It's…the people in this house. And the brainbots." He frowns harder. "I'm not sure even the spiderbot knows. I don't know how much it shares with the host."

Wayne swallows. "Okay," he says. "Well. Uh. And, um, Roxie said…you're thinking about retirement?"

Megamind's expression flattens.

"Megamind," Roxanne murmurs, beside him, and takes his hand, squeezes gently.

"Yes," Megamind says, after struggling for a moment. "Yes. Retirement. Less thinking about, more committed to."

"Really?" This is Minion, seated in one of the armchairs in the living room. He doesn't sound startled, but there is a wary note in his voice. "Are you committed?"

Megamind swallows. "I think," he says, "I think I have to be."

Minion frowns. "Sir—"

"No," Megamind says, "listen," but he walks slowly to the sofa and settles uncomfortably there before he speaks again. Roxanne sits down beside him.

"Villainy is my life," Megamind says, finally, staring at the coffee table with worry lines etched on his forehead and around his mouth. "But. It is also going to be my death, if I keep going with it. And I can't—Minion, you know I can't see much of anything else for myself, for us. And, but I—I realized, last night—I can't actually even imagine anything else. Living. A future." He pauses, feeling his expression pinch slightly. He takes a deep breath; he is not going to cry. He shed quite enough tears last night and he is not about to shed any more, especially not in front of his nemesis.

"But I want one," he says, finally, breathing steadily. "I want a future. I want to see it." He swallows. "I want," he says softly, and pinches his lips together under his scowl.

Minion nods slowly.

"You haven't said that in years, Sir," he says, very quietly. "Not since we were kids."

Megamind's lips twitch into a wry, humorless smile. "I think I am in a slightly better headspace, these days, Minion," he says. "And we have more resources now, and I know the trade-offs. Plus it just...isn't terribly engaging anymore, anyway."

Minion cocks his head.

"You were right," Megamind says, his voice heavy. "Jawbreaker was far too rushed. Flawed. Poorly tested. I just—I just wanted to get it done and over with." He frowns. He hasn't had a slump this bad in a long time, and never with a battlesuit in play.

"We haven't had as many ongoing plots as usual, lately," Minion agrees, after a moment, and—oh, that is also a good point. Megamind stills. Frowns harder as tension gathers and coils in his shoulders.

"...Sir?"

"I'm bored," he finally bursts out, sending a ripple down his spine and curling his fingertips against the air. "I'm bored and I'm tired and I don't, I don't want to die, but at least if I was dead I wouldn't be so bored and tired!" He throws his hands up, falls back to slouch against the back of the sofa. Roxanne puts her hand on his shoulder, but he twitches irritably away. She withdraws, and Megamind grits his teeth, annoyed with himself. "I keep waiting and waiting for something to catch my attention," he snaps, "but I haven't felt truly inspired to make anything except that damned teething thing in months, and that turned out to be unnecessary! I've thought about even really pulling out all the stops on some kind of satellite death ray, and even that isn't catching my interest!"

"What?" Minion sounds very startled. "But you love satellites! You love death rays!"

"Apparently not!" Megamind exclaims. Then he sighs, shrugs, sweeps a gesture at nothing with his prosthetic hand. "So…retirement. If villainy is going to kill me, and I don't even enjoy it anymore anyway…" He trails off.

Then he hesitates, glances at Roxanne, shifts his leg a little to press the length of his thigh to hers.

"And Roxanne is confident there are other ways," he says, slowly moving his hand sideways until he can brush the backs of his fingers against hers. He isn't sure if she still wants to—but she slips her hand behind his, nets their fingers, squeezes. Megamind manages to twitch a smile at her. "She's…I think she's been trying to tell me for a while, now. And. I am ready to listen. If I don't have to do this—if I really can do something else—" He looks back over at Minion. "I think that would be wise."

"That's good, Sir," Minion says. "I'm glad. But I do worry that—"

"And I need you with me on this," Megamind adds. He can feel the tension still coiled inside him despite the reassurance of Roxanne's hand in his. "I need you. I need you to be with me on this. Please, Minion; I know it isn't fair but I—can't—I can't do this without you and I don't—" He cuts himself off, clenching his teeth as he looks away. "I doubt I'll be able to stick with this otherwise," he admits. "It's going to be hard as it is, and I'm…scared. It…really would be nice not to not go extinct quite yet."

Wayne stares at him.

"I'm with you, Sir," Minion says, after a moment. "Of course I'm with you. I'll always be with you; I just worry."

"Breakfast is ready!" says Rose, coming in and wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She sends Megamind a bright smile. "Good morning! Feeling better, I hope?"

Mostly what he's feeling is extremely tense and awkward, but she doesn't look like she's judging him. He smiles tightly and stands, wincing a little as his hip protests. The sofa is somewhat lower-set than he ordinarily prefers. "I appreciate your help last night," he says, stiff and too formal but unable to do anything about it. "Thank you. I apologize for the trouble."

She shakes her head. "No trouble," she says. "Just helping a friend. Come and eat."

Megamind does not want to eat. Megamind wants to crawl into a small hole and curl up there and go to sleep until the world is a different place and he doesn't have to deal with this one.

(He is definitely going back to bed when he gets home. Saying everything out loud like that helped solidify things in his mind somewhat but he is going back to bed, and then probably he is going to freak out for a while, because it all still feels pretty impossible. If Megamind isn't a villain, who is he? What is he?)

But. Breakfast. Minion will frown at him if he doesn't eat something, and Megamind owes his friend this much after all his pigheaded recalcitrance during the previous week.

"I'm confused," Wayne says, finally speaking up as they all move into the dining room to sit down. "Why—why did you not tell me about this? I mean, I am sorry. Seriously, I am. But—how could you not tell me? I would have been more careful! You just went ahead and let me believe you developed a healing factor? I even mentioned it! A couple times! And you said nothing!" He shakes his head. "And, and so I don't know if I should be more sorry or more upset, here! I mean, I apparently cut off your arm and didn't notice? I thought I smelled blood a couple times, but—"

"You didn't actually cut it off," Minion begins, his tone acrid, but Megamind interrupts him.

"I was already wearing the underlay at that point," he says. "And I didn't tell you because, yes, you would have held back. People would have realized, would have figured it out."

"This is why you gave me such crap about the x-ray vision back when we started," Metro Man accuses, "isn't it. Because you didn't want me to see—" His eyes flicker blue and he breaks off and goes wide-eyed, and Megamind, who was halfway into his chair, is back on his feet and slamming both hands flat on the table in the next half-second.

"Do not do that," he snarls, teeth bared, organic eye flashing. "You invasive selfish son of a cocksucking fuckcycle do not do that or I will rip your consciousness out of your body and shove it directly into the brainbot development nexus to be subsumed by the collective, repurposed, and rewritten into something with basic fucking respect for other people's privacy!"

Wayne leans back and holds up his hands, blinking. "Okay, okay, sorry," he says, sounding startled. "Jeez."

Slowly, Megamind straightens. "And no," he says, in a voice like ice, "that wasn't why. The underlay is partially interdimensional; you couldn't see through it anyway."

"Then why—"

"I don't owe you an explanation,"Megamind tells him coldly. "You just keep that x-ray shit to yourself or I will make you think you were never born. Got it?"

Wayne nods.

Megamind finally settles into his chair and glances down, then slowly uncurls his fingers from the handle of the utensil he grabbed when he was shouting. His prosthetic's automatic tension regulators are set to turn off when his blood pressure gets to a certain point, and the spoon is badly warped. "Ah. I seem to have crushed a spoon," he says. "My apologies."

"I'll fix it," Wayne says, subdued. He holds out a hand, and after a moment, Megamind tosses it to him.

"Bismillahi wa 'ala baraka-tillah," Salim murmurs, and quietly starts the tray of eggs and sausage going around the table.

Megamind scoops breakfast onto his plate, trying to think. He should—should he apologize for the outburst? He doesn't think he was in the wrong, but—expressions of anger tend not to be met with sympathy from humans—none of these particular humans seem to have a problem, but—

"You okay?" Rose asks, raising her eyebrows at him from where she's getting Derya settled in her high chair. Megamind blinks at her, too out of place and embarrassed and uncertain to figure out a response. After a moment, she glances over her shoulder. "Wayne, apologize; that was beyond rude and I know for a fact you know better."

"I apologized already," he protests, and Rose turns and glares at him. He flushes. "Sorry I didn't ask," he mumbles.

Megamind jerks his chin in a nod. He has the feeling that Wayne is going to be apologizing a lot, for a while, and…well, it's not okay. But. "Find me some good lawyers, and we'll call it even," he says. "Something tells me I'm going to need them."

They'll get there. Eventually.

Wayne nods. "Yeah, absolutely. You…so, do you want to get together later and come up with some kind of plan for all this? Brainstorm session?"

Formulating an approach sooner rather than later is a good plan, but Megamind still hesitates. He woke up less than an hour ago but he is tired, still, in a dull sort of monotone way that goes all the way to his marrow, and he's feeling even less charitable towards Metro Man than usual after the x-ray thing. Wayne has a lot of nerve, asking if Megamind wants to get together right after pulling something like that.

"Tomorrow," he says, finally. "Yes. Not today."

"You can meet at my place, if you want," Roxanne offers. "Neutral ground."

"That sounds great, Roxie, thanks," says Wayne, and Megamind nods.

Roxanne picks up his splinted hand and kisses it, the side of his thumb, and Megamind takes a deep breath and flutters a smile at her and returns to his breakfast with an effort. The eggs are good, and the sausage is fantastic. Megamind has not had lamb sausage before, but he is definitely going to have to have it again. He stays quiet as conversation rises, begins to flow and ebb around him, and he keeps his eyes on his food.

He'll be okay. Probably. He isn't looking forward to this brainstorming thing, but. It won't be the first time he's worked with Wayne on something. And he has Minion, he has Roxanne. He has Rose and Salim and Derya. And he hasn't had any issues with actually wanting to die in a long time—and Roxanne was right: just because he can't see a future for himself doesn't mean he doesn't have one. Time moves forward; Megamind moves with it.

Well. He can learn to move with it, anyway.

He glances over at Derya, who is happily making her way through a jar of something orange with her mother's help. Her first birthday isn't so far off, he realizes. Only a few more months. He can sort of see himself making it until then, if nothing else. And when he gets there, well, maybe by that point he'll have gotten the hang of this 'living without villainy' thing and it won't seem like such a tall order to make it to her second.

He'll be okay.

"Megamind, listen," Rose says, after a while. He looks up. "Salim and I talked a little, last night, and any time you want to stop by and visit or even just hang out if you need a change of scenery, is okay by us. I can't promise we'll always be terribly entertaining, but you are always welcome. Okay?"

Megamind blinks. Frowns as he tries to switch gears. "Okay," he says slowly. "Thanks? Thank you?"

"Here," Salim says, leaning across the table and offering something small and flat. A key.

Slowly, Megamind takes it, stares down at it. This is a first.

Then Salim jumps. "Oh wait," he says, before Megamind can figure out how to reply. "I forgot—let me see that really quick—"

Mystified, Megamind hands it back to him as Rose makes an exasperated sound and says, "Salim, don't."

"No no, he'll think it's funny," he exclaims, digging in his pocket and then clipping something to the key. "Okay," he says, grinning and passing Megamind the key again and dragging his pajama sleeve through the butter in the process. "Now it's yours."

Megamind blinks down at it, then snorts. His key is now attached to a glittery blue keychain in the big-eyed teardrop shape of a stereotypical alien head. "Wonderful," he says, laughing in spite of himself as he feels some of his stress and embarrassment ease. "That's fantastic."

"Told you," Salim says to Rose, who shakes her head at him. "Similar senses of humor."

"Dorks," Rose replies, smiling at Derya and attempting another spoonful of baby food. "I am surrounded by dorks."

"We aren't all dorks," Wayne begins, in a tone of offense, but Megamind cuts him off.

"No, of course not," he says. "One of us is an infant."

Wayne rolls his eyes as the humans laugh.

The ride back to Evil Lair begins in something like an awkward silence. Minion is wearing the expression that means he's thinking, and Megamind knows he has a Talk coming, but for now, he gazes out of the windshield and lets Minion contemplate whatever it is he needs to say.

He's tired. His head hurts. There's so much new, right now—Roxanne loves him? And he's not going to be a villain anymore? At least he's between projects at the moment; he would feel very strange leaving anything half-built. A year ago, he would probably have had three or four things in the works and in various stages of planning and construction, but lately…well, as Minion noted, he doesn't really have much in the pipeline right now.

It's possible that giving up villainy won't actually be as difficult as he fears. If he has to stop, then doing so when he's in the middle of one of his slumps anyway is probably the best time. It just feels incomprehensible, is all.

"Sir," Minion finally says quietly, glancing over at him. "I need to ask. Do you want to quit villainy?"

Megamind takes a deep breath and forces himself to stop trying to think about the future. Refocuses on the present. "Frankly, Minion…I don't know what I want to do," he admits. "I just…I just know I want to live, if I can, and I can't do that like this. I mean, look at me." He gestures vaguely at himself. "What happens when I blow my legs off? You know it's my legs or my head next; it's only a matter of time. And there are limits to what prosthetics can do, even for me. I'll never swim again, if I live; not properly."

"I know." Minion shakes his head. "And I am with you. I worry, you know I worry—but—well." He reaches over, pats Megamind gently on the shoulder. "Sir—Siirh—I want you to live, too. You're all I've got."

Megamind bites his lip. "Thank you. I…and I'm…sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me; maybe I'm getting old. I just…" He trails off, exhales. "I had…one blissfully normal day. With friends. No hiding."

Ah. Yes. Lake day. Minion had known, as soon as Megamind walked into Evil Lair late the night he came home from the lake with Roxanne, there were going to be repercussions. Megamind had been very quiet, his gaze almost skittish, and he went to bed earlier than he had in months. But what the repercussions actually were, Minion couldn't be sure—good? bad? Megamind wasn't going to talk about it, that much was clear. When the corners of Megamind's mouth turn down, Minion knows pushing him to talk will do more harm than good. But he didn't go into one of his dark moods, the way Minion feared he would, and as far as Minion knows he isn't hurting himself, so…

Megamind pauses for so long Minion begins to wonder if he's lost the flow of things, but finally he softly says, "I had one day. Just one. And I used to think—what wouldn't I give to have a day like that one. I even, I swam with them, Minion, I—they saw my gills, even, and…it was okay. I was okay." He pauses. Exhales. "And I thought. I want…I want that." He swallows, and Minion's heart sinks. "You asked what I wanted and…that's…what I want, Minion. Some semblance of normal. Still." He looks down at his hands, one of them splinted and the other mechanical. "I thought—it wouldn't be so bad, really, seeing that, touching it," he adds, "I really did think I gave all that up as a lost cause. But…I do still want it. So, so badly."

Minion glances over at him. "We aren't normal, Sir," he says, very gently.

Megamind looks up. "I know. I know, but—we can have normal things, Minion," he says, in a more solid sort of voice. His I'm-Having-An-Idea-I-Might-Be-Excited-About voice. "Some things, anyway. Not everything, but—friends? People who at least don't scream or sneer when we walk into the room." He stares out the windshield, grips his knees. "It happened once, it—it can happen again. Roxanne seems very sure I can do something else. And, and be happy. Consistently happy, I mean. And I do think she knows what she's talking about." He sends a smile in Minion's direction, but what Minion can see of it looks brittle, uncertain. "I trust Roxanne; I—I know she loves me, I know she doesn't want to hurt me; I love her and I trust her. It's…it's just. A lot."

Minion swallows. It happened once after we kidnapped a human enough times that they finally formed a bond with us, he doesn't say. We have failed over and over and over at being good. Failed over and over at simply connecting with people. Miss Ritchi only began to like us within the past couple of years, have you forgotten? And school? Have you forgotten?

He doesn't say any of that. Megamind is talking with something that sounds dangerously like hope in his voice, and it makes Minion's fishy heart squeeze. And Megamind already said he needs Minion to be with him on this, which means he needs Minion not to echo everything he's probably trying very hard not to think, himself.

The bad guy role always was a bitter pill to take. So Minion sighs, and changes the subject.

"Yes, she mentioned that earlier," he says. "Loving you. How long has that been the case? Do you know?"

"Since we went to that park," Megamind says. "She says we'll go again this weekend. You should come, Minion. It's nice."

"It sounded nice," Minion admits, because it did. What very little Megamind said about it. Minion has never eaten a tadpole before, but he wouldn't mind giving it a chance. "Will it be empty again?"

"I don't know," Megamind says. "But even if it isn't…I'm tired of hiding." He scowls. "I'm tired of it. I'm tired of—I'm tired of shadows and I'm tired of hiding and I want—I want. More. Want to not have to hide anymore. If Roxanne says we can make that happen—"

Minion can't help himself, this time. "How is she so sure, Sir?"

"Minion."

"I am with you, I promise I am," he says. "I swear, I am with you one hundred percent. But I don't…actually know what else we can do besides villainy, if we stay in Metro City."

Megamind nods and rubs a hand up over his scalp, then drops it into his lap with a sigh. "Neither do I. But, maybe—city defense? If Metro Man is quitting, too, there's a void to fill, and—"

"That route does not end with you any less dead, Sir."

"—and the brainbots can fill it; yes, thank you Minion; I am aware that hero is just as dangerous an occupation as villain." Megamind sends him a mildly disgruntled look. "But we can start there. Defense, at least. The host is swarming at nearly hundred and twenty thousand strong and still growing; it's getting harder to find enough things for them to do. Training them in city defense, or community support—we could do it. You know some of them have already gone the companionship route; we could expand that."

This is true. It's rare, but a few of Megamind's brainbots have adopted themselves into families in Metro City. One of them has bonded with a man who lives in the little tent community under the seventy-ninth street interchange. Megamind has used that to his advantage once or twice; it's a handy excuse to drop by and 'check on things,' gather information from the people who see the effect of new policies most quickly and feel them hardest. Seek input. And very quietly see what might be needed in the way of supplies.

It could be a start. Minion doesn't see how it could possibly help, but—

Well, but people are going to panic when Metro Man steps down. That's just a given, really. He and Megamind can take advantage of that, play off of that, can't they? A little bit, at least. Metro City is going to be a massive target for transient villains in the months following their retirement, Minion knows that's a given, too; who better to defend the city against villains than the ones who held her in their clutches for fourteen solid years?

Huh.

Well, that's not so hard to get his head around, if he thinks about it like that. It's just…doing what needs to be done, really. Minion is good at that.

He feels himself perk up a little. It's a start. And Minion does trust Roxanne, too. He very much wants her to be right about all this. Minion doesn't think terribly highly of humans, very much, but Roxanne is an exception. And if she thinks they can do this…

Well. Minion will throw his whole weight behind anything that ends in not dying, and Roxanne has certainly trusted him enough over the years. He owes her this much.

"All right," Minion says, finally. "Let's go for it. Let's give defense a shot."

"I know it doesn't feel possible—"

"We've done plenty of impossible things already, Sir," Minion says, nodding to himself and feeling some of the stiffness ease from his lateral line system. "Let's do some more! We can always find another way, if this goes south. There's always another way."

Megamind takes a deep breath. "Yes," he says. "Yes. Exactly. We have options. I—might not be able to see all of them yet, but—we do have options."

"I like the idea of a plan that mostly involves not dying," Minion offers. Megamind snorts in spite of himself. "I just worry. You said earlier, you're scared, and the last time you started talking like this—that came from fear, too, I think."

Megamind smiles ruefully. "Fear and despair, Minion. Fear and despair." He shakes his head. "I don't know exactly what this is, but I think it might be fear and hope, this time?" He glances down at his phone, which has—wonder of wonders—more than one contact in it. "And we have people who care about us, now," he adds. "More than just our uncles. People who can actually help."

"They certainly seem to want to, Sir," Minion agrees. He was right, then: it was hope. That's...dangerous. Megamind has been hopeful before and it rarely ends well. "I haven't had the opportunity to talk to them, very much. But they seem nice." He frowns a little, then shrugs. "Well. If you think we can do it, then I think so, too. The hero says he has some thoughts—apparently Lord Scott wants to retire? If he takes over his father's company—"

Megamind groans.

"—and restructures it in a way specifically designed to fully disrupt a multi-billion dollar industry, with an end goal of total overhaul, do you think you might be interested in assisting with that?"

He looks up. "Which industry?"

"Medical. Healthcare."

Megamind blinks, and then bares all his teeth in a mirthless smile. "Oh, yes. Yes, I think that sounds like fun. What on earth got him thinking about that?"

"I mentioned that we would need something to do," Minion says. "And he suggested Scott Corp as having potential. Apparently he's been trying to help some people with their bills, in recent years. He also mentioned setting up some kind of charity along those lines—the board of directors at the company may pose a problem—but he has no background in business."

Megamind waves a hand. "The current board of directors won't go for it, no," he says, "but I can encourage them to step down, no problem."

Then he sighs a little. "But first, I think, we take a break. Learn to breathe. Exist. In the city. I'm tired, Minion," he says, leaning his head on the window of the invisible car and closing his eyes. "Jumping right into a new endeavor…probably will not help me be any less tired."

"Taking a break sounds like a lovely plan—if you can actually manage it, that is." Minion's tone goes teasing in spite of his nerves. "I have some new quilting patterns I want to try. But we can do this, Sir. We've gone this far. We can go a little farther."

Megamind nods.

He does go back to bed. Frankly, he isn't sure what else to do, and his mind right now resembles nothing so much as radio static or television snow. He strips down to his undersuit and plugs his phone in to charge, and then he goes to bed, where he lies awake for a while with his eyes closed and his thoughts whirling and buzzing in his mind, the old familiar tangle of

(can't)(want)(have to try)(won't let me)(destined for)(won't listen)(have to try)(won't let me)(can't do this)(want)(try again)(listen)

spinning and spinning and spinning into so much white noise until he finally falls asleep.

Across town, Roxanne paces her apartment, thinking.

She's never been with anyone who held her like that after an argument. Let alone while they sounded frustrated at what she was saying. Megamind is something special, but for so many of their years of snipping and snapping at each other, the most she ever thought of him was that he was witty and smart. She thought plenty of bad things about him, too, and she was never shy about speaking her mind. He hasn't said anything about that, but Roxanne can't help but feel bad about it. Repairing that won't be easy.

He seemed so quiet when he left her sister's house. Quiet is not like him, even when he is in a mood. And Minion was still worried, still harboring some reservations, Roxanne could tell.

So, Minion is uncertain and Megamind is depressed. But depending on how much of the issue is situational, moving them towards some kind of retirement that eventually includes public acceptance might be even better than Roxanne is hoping. And Megamind, at least, knows something is wrong; he knows he does want more than what he can see for himself. So, that's okay. It's a starting place; Roxanne can work with that. She just—

(Minion's 'well, yes; death is generally what happens to villains' comment earlier still has Roxanne biting her lip every time she thinks of it. Like it was nothing. Like it went without saying.)

Is—she doesn't want to push them into anything, just on principle, but—but if she doesn't push, then—

Megamind might want to change but it's a pretty safe bet he doesn't know how to do that on his own. If Roxanne doesn't push, he may just wind up going nowhere.

Which is better than going down, or backwards, or…whatever direction is worse. Where he is now seems much better than where he used to be. It's just that where Megamind is right now sounds like it also sucks, and Roxanne would like for him to be content at the very least, instead of just…wanting to be happy but not knowing how to learn.

She bites her lip and picks up her phone.

Megamind wakes up feeling unexpectedly better. Less strung-out, less like a worn violin string waiting to snap. Steadier. He opens his eyes, inhales, exhales.

And. The old tangle of confused thoughts has ebbed somewhat, and Megamind pauses to maybe address it—

—and finds that at some point while he was sleeping, have to try folded in on itself and is now circling around as

want to try

Which is something Megamind feels much more comfortable working with, really. That's a good sign, he's pretty sure.

He—and he still has his old papers, right? Plans and sketches, notes he scribbled ages ago, back in school when he was bored or in detention—which was always, so there certainly were a lot of them. He could take a look at those. Maybe there's something useful, there? Something hopeful, from before he committed to all this? He'll go see.

Green energy, he thinks. Stabilize the arctic—he can re-freeze the ice caps with a satellite array—freeze rays instead of death rays—ice beams—could he? He could do that; who's going to stop him? Sustainability will take longer, of course, making sure things can't get so bad again will be hellishly complicated, but Megamind can at least make sure the immediate problem is addressed before he tackles the source of the issue.

He still feels a residual twist of oh no when he goes to pick up his phone, but no, no, it's okay. It's all okay. He and Roxanne are friends again; she came back.

More than friends. He feels himself flush at the memory of her body against his, the heat of her mouth, her touch on his skin. Running her hands over his head. She can't—she can't really have enjoyed that, can she? She didn't seem to mind it.

He sighs and unlocks his phone, perches on the edge of his bed.

Oh, that's…many texts, mostly in the first couple of days after their fight.

Hey. I'm sorry about last night. I said some things I didn't mean, can we talk?

You have every right to be upset but I am so sorry and I really would like to talk to you

Megamind please don't freeze me out like this please just text me back

I know I said I didn't want you in my life but I was wrong. I wasn't thinking and I shouldn't have said that. It was mean and it wasn't true, please text me

Me again. Take all the time you need, I'll try and leave you alone.

I miss you. I'm sorry.

Then a couple of pictures, sent earlier today while Megamind was asleep: Minion holding Derya and both of them beaming at each other, and Megamind in his favorite chair, tipped back and napping with Derya asleep on his chest.

I love you. And maybe this sounds cheesy, but I really do believe in you. You're the most incredible person I've ever known and I am so, so lucky to know you. We can do this, okay? We'll figure this out, I promise. Love you forever but we'll take it one step at a time.

Megamind sits on his bed and stares down at his phone, at the proof of her there in front of him. The photos are nice, as is the text telling him she believes in him, but for a moment he has to just sit and reel at—she wanted to talk to him. She never stopped caring, she—reached out, apologized—repeatedly, as though it was entirely her fault, even though it wasn't, he knows it wasn't—she—thought he didn't want to talk to her—

He swallows hard and takes a deep breath. I love you, too, he texts back. Thank you for helping me with this.

He waits for a moment, then, thinking. And then he sends, I have some old papers I want to look through before I talk to Wayne tomorrow. Could use some company. Can I come over?

His phone pings with a text alert before he finishes putting his clothes back on. Of course! Would love to see you!

He smiles.

He's—still very much adrift in all this—but he and Minion aren't alone, anymore. That's going to make such a difference, he can tell. They have friends, now. Megamind went to them when he was injured and half out of his mind and they helped him, didn't hurt him, treated him gently and let him sleep in their home. And he has a girlfriend, too, someone who loves him.

Loves him.

I love you, Megamind, please let me kiss you—

He touches his lips for a moment, feels them curve into a small smile.

She loves him and she was sorry and she said the fight wasn't entirely his fault and Megamind hasn't lost everything, hasn't lost anything, and the relief of that honestly takes his breath away for a moment. Megamind is going to kiss Roxanne so hard when he sees her.

It's going to be complicated. Megamind knows this. It's going to be complicated and difficult, probably in ways he doesn't expect. But he's going to make it work. He wants a future and he wants to live and he doesn't have to fight until he dies, and he is going to build that future and make sure it's the last thing he ever does. He's going to—he's going to watch Derya learn to walk. He'll teach her to read. He'll pick her up from school if her parents are working and she needs a ride. He'll help her with her homework. And he'll see her graduate, someday, if she wants to. He will.

He gets to his feet. Stretches. "Okay," he murmurs, and shrugs back into his shirt.

Chapter Text

A week later, Metro Man and Megamind—healed up, and with his underlay in place—announce their new arrangement, a formalization of their former gentlemen's rules: if they are in regular clothing, out of uniform, then they are not acting as superhero or supervillain. They are off work. They are to be left alone.

(This is, of course, only the first phase of their plan, but they don't mention this.)

They both receive a certain amount of push-back, which they expected. Metro Man's is of the "how can you ignore the city when it needs you" variety, while Megamind's is mostly variations on the theme of "how do you expect us not to have you arrested on sight."

But both Metro Man and Megamind operate under Michigan State Code Chapter 752, Act 126 of 1909, Section 170, which provides additional legal regulations and exceptions pertaining to the "super" classification of villains and heroes. It is quite a long section and ponderously detailed, but what it boils down to is: they are each other's problem. Both Megamind and Metro Man were awarded "super" status almost directly out of high school; as such, Megamind has never been formally arrested as an adult. He has no criminal record outside of 752.126.1909.170(8)(a)(ii), which doesn't obligate the local or state police forces to have anything to do with him unless they want to tangle with him. And, as it happens, Megamind has rather a lot of background on both the local and state police forces that (1) they would very much prefer him not to have, and (2) functions nicely as a deterrent to keep them from so much as glancing in his direction.

This has come in handy more than once, over the years. Just another benefit of living with what amounts to an army of highly-sophisticated, intelligent surveillance drones.

Metro Man, unfortunately, does not have brainbots gathering intelligence and offering him leverage to keep him safe, and he has a much harder time adjusting. He can't turn off his super-hearing, and ignoring cries of distress—of which there are many, in a city the size of Metro—just makes him feel frantic and distracted and unhappy. Justifying all this to himself is something he can usually manage, but his decision is so much harder to defend when humans try to criticize, when they ask him to defend his choice to step back.

"That whole faking-your-death thing is lookin' real good, little buddy," he says to Megamind, one morning a couple weeks after making the initial announcement about their situational ceasefire. They've met up to touch base, to make sure they're still on the same page. "I always said I couldn't understand the appeal of pseudocide, but I tell you what. Trying to ease out of this job is, uh. Oof."

He has his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. The two of them are sitting on a bench in the park in the early morning, hours before pretty much anyone else is likely to turn up. Megamind has gone out in public once or twice in plainclothes in full daylight, but he was with Roxanne, and even then he was jumpy and anxious and unable to focus on how amazingly, fantastically wonderful it is to stand at her side with his hand in hers. He is much more comfortable as—what was the word?—as a crepuscular creature. Dawn and dusk.

"You have more than done your duty to these people," Megamind says, for the third time. Despite their rocky start, he's finding Metro Man surprisingly easy to get along with, at least in small doses. "The brainbots have it covered. You need to take a step back."

"Yeah, I realize," Wayne says dryly. "Taking a few days to just rest in my hideout…man, that was nuts. I slept for, like, a whole day, and then I started picking at the guitar like I always wanted, and now it's like…it's almost like there's a weight on my chest every time I even look at my uniform. I don't know what's up."

Megamind frowns. "Well," he says slowly, trying to muster up some sympathy, "you haven't had a vacation in fifteen years. Prior to that, your down time was sh—school, every day. I'm not surprised you're burned out."

"You know what's great?" Wayne says, as if he hadn't heard a word of this. "Sandwiches. Sandwiches that I make, exactly the way I wanna make them, that I can eat by myself, uninterrupted, someplace quiet. That is fantastic. And the fact that that—just eating a sandwich—is this awesome—I dunno. I dunno what that says about me, but it's starting to freak me out."

Megamind frowns harder, turning this over in his head. Eventually, he hazards, "Were you happy?" Wayne turns a little and looks at him without really sitting up, and he clarifies, "We covered my feelings on villainy when we sat down to figure this out. But. Were you happy? As a superhero?"

Wayne heaves a massive sigh, hauling in air and blowing it out of both his lungs and the exhalant siphons on his back, puffing out his shirt.

"I used to think I was," he says, at last. "But maybe…maybe what I thought was 'happy' was just…" He trails off.

"Keeping busy?"

"Yeah. Something like that. I mean," he laughs a little, "don't get me wrong, the whole 'praise and adulation' thing is nice enough. People like me! It's nice! Except…" He frowns. "Except they don't actually like me. They like Metro Man. And Metro Man and I aren't the same person, it turns out."

"They do like you," Megamind says, genuinely startled at this. "What are you talking about? Everyone loves you. They always have."

"That's what I thought, too." Wayne shakes his head. "But I'm pretty sure they love the idea of me. They love the…the flawless, perfect hero who never takes a break and never drops the ball and always shows up where he's needed, and it's a horrible unusual tragedy when anything goes wrong in this city, and when it does it's always my fault for not being there. They love their version of me.

"But me, I'm…I'm just a guy, little buddy. Metro Man is the me I have to—the me I thought I had to be. But me? Really me?" He shrugs. "I don't know who I am without him. Without them. I don't even know what I want."

"Sandwiches," Megamind suggests, after a moment, and Wayne snorts.

"Yeah," he says, scrubbing his hands down his face and sitting up, leaning back. "Yeah, apparently. Uh—I'm, uh, I'm gonna—" He sort of lifts the arm that's next to Megamind. "I'm gonna put this? Along the back of the bench? Because I'm, um. Too big and, uh. Triangular. Sorry."

Megamind nods. "It's fine," he says, but he still twitches forward and away as soon as Wayne settles.

"Sorry," Wayne says, for possibly the thousandth time since they both started this endeavor. Megamind sighs.

"I'll get over it. Eventually." He pauses, struggling for a moment with himself, trying to let go of his habit of playing his hand close to the vest. Finally he offers, "I…keep thinking about guns."

Wayne frowns at him, uncomprehending. "Guns?"

"You know. Weapons. Weaponry, things I could build."

After a moment, Wayne says, "Huh. Not—plots? Plans to take over the city? I would've thought…"

"So would I!" Megamind shakes his head. "But no, it's—it's just—guns, almost exclusively. Sometimes bombs. Every time I start feeling—I don't know. Worried, stressed." He shrugs, troubled.

There's a pause. "I'm guessing that's most of the time, huh?" Wayne ventures, and Megamind nods. "You build any of 'em yet? Got any plans for them?"

"No, no." Megamind waves his hands, scrunches his face in dismissal. "Nothing like that. It's just…thinking. If I don't have anything else to think about, if I'm not focusing on something or if I'm feeling—upset—I don't know. I turn around and suddenly I'm thinking about firearms, again. Or explosives. A couple of laser cannons." He heaves a sigh, the corners of his mouth turning down.

Wayne scratches the back of his neck, wondering where the little guy is going with all this. "Well, uh…do the thoughts…do anything for you? Are you, like…happy about them?"

"No," Megamind says immediately. "No, I am very much not happy about them! They are extremely annoying! But—but I've been trying to figure it out and—it's almost automatic. I feel—less like I'm hurtling towards a cliff, I guess. Less like something terrible is about to happen." He scowls. "Anyway," he says, "you aren't the only one having trouble adjusting."

Oh. He's—sharing? He's just—

Huh. That's kind of him.

Wayne hesitates, then digs in his jacket pocket for his little notepad and pencil. Metro Man's uniform has a belt with various pockets for his various supplies, but Wayne has to rely on his pockets. He checks in his phone, then scribbles down a name and a phone number so he can rip the sheet off and offer it to Megamind. The smaller alien blinks down at it, then up at him, cocking his huge head. Wayne clears his throat.

"—This is, that's my, uh. Therapist."

It feels weirdly embarrassing to admit to this, never mind that Metro Man has always been an extremely vocal fan of mental health services. It's different for him. He's a hero; he doesn't need help; he doesn't need anyone.

(What a steaming pile of crap that turned out to be.)

Still, if Megamind is willing to share, then Wayne is determined to reciprocate. It is, quite literally, the least he can do. "I'm still pretty new at the whole—thing," he says, taking a deep breath, "but, but I've had a couple appointments with her and I think she's pretty good. Works with a lot of heroes, knows her stuff. I—and she hasn't said, but—but I'd be real surprised if she didn't have at least a couple clients on the evil side of things. She'd be able to recommend someone for you, anyway."

Slowly, Megamind takes the paper, stares down at it.

"Might even be cool if we both saw her at the same time," Wayne adds, when his smaller counterpart says nothing. "One of these days. Might help with the whole…you know. Awkwardness thing. Talking."

Megamind is quiet.

"It's, I just…" Wayne trails off. "I know you're…pretty private. But that sounds like you might have some heavier stuff going on than you can tackle on your own? So…it's ok to ask for help. Okay? No shame in asking for help."

Megamind finally looks up again. "You don't believe that," he says. Wayne rolls his eyes.

"I believe it just fine for other people," he says flatly. "Seriously, I mean it. Call her. Thinking about explosives and stuff just to feel like you're not about to die sounds like it super sucks." Megamind snorts, that's a good sign, and Wayne sends him a weak grin. "Hey," he continues, because he is badly in need of a change of subject, "you eat fish, right? Mostly? I'm remembering that right?"

Megamind blinks a few times, relaxes just a little. "My non-glucose diet is high in fish, yes."

You like salmon? You like tzatziki?" At Megamind's hesitant nod, he says, "Hey, great. Fabulous. Gimme like an hour's notice and come by my hideout sometime; I will make you the best salmon sandwich you've ever had in your life."

"Really," Megamind says, lips twitching. He doesn't lean back against the bench, but a little bit more of his tension eases out of him.

"Yup," says Wayne. "Absolutely. Hand to god, this recipe is the best on the planet and you will love it."

Megamind laughs. "All right," he says. "But you've got some stiff competition. Minion's salmon is to die for."

Wayne chuckles. "Well, heck, bring him along and we'll have a cookoff. Side-by-side comparison. The best competitions end with delicious foodstuffs all around, you know? Nobody loses."

"Win-win, for sure," Megamind agrees.

"And I've been making my own bread," Wayne adds, and Megamind makes an interested noise.

"Huh. Minion will have to give you his recipe for twelve-grain loaf."

Wayne grimaces. "I'm not sure Minion is likely to give me anything except a swift kick in the rear," he says. "He, ah. He has not exactly warmed up to me."

"Yes, well. I'm…starting to." Megamind sighs. "Minion will just have to cope."

Wayne glances down at him, then away. The sun has cleared the trees behind them and the sky is entirely light, now. "I don't deserve that," he says.

Megamind shrugs, uncomfortable. "Neither of us deserves most of what's happening," he says. "I have done some extremely messed-up things in my life. But." He sighs. "Here we are."

Then he frowns. "I wonder if I can make some kind of auditory dampener," he says. "Like a hearing aid, but in reverse. Something that would block sound at a distance but allow you to hear within a certain radius."

"If anyone can, it's you," Wayne tells him. "And that would be both amazing and deeply, deeply appreciated, because I am right now, as we speak, ignoring like four different people screaming and uh. I don't. Actually know how to do that and still feel like not a terrible person." He grimaces. "At least if I couldn't hear them, I wouldn't just be ignoring them."

Megamind frowns. "Would you prefer we continue this discussion in your hideout?"

Wayne turns and blinks down at him, surprised. "Yeah, but…I kinda doubt you'd be comfortable with that."

Megamind takes a deep, slow breath, and then he shrugs and gets to his feet. "Like I said," he says. "I'll get over it. Might as well start now. Up!" He lifts both arms, and Metro Man snorts, stands, and scoops him up, lifts him to sit on his shoulder.

"Okay," he says, pulling air into his flight system and rolling his enfraparticulate flow against Earth's subgravitational field, lifting off. "Okay, yeah. And thanks, I appreciate it," he adds, and ignores the sound of Megamind grinding his teeth. "Hey, you had breakfast yet? Cool, I'll make you a Monte Cristo on French toast."

"That's a sandwich?"

"Yeah, it's sweet, you'll love it."

Eventually, the citizens of Metro City seem to be starting to grow accustomed to seeing Megamind out around town. He isn’t keeping the invisible car invisible anymore, which—well, which mostly means he can’t park in no-parking-anytime zones anymore, more's the pity. But it also means people realize exactly how frequently he’s out and about in the city. 

A little more than a month after the announcement, Megamind is approached on the street and asked for his first selfie with a random citizen. His instinct is to say no, but—this is a good sign, yes? The human seems very hopeful. This is good. This means public opinion is turning. However, positive or not, a “selfie” requires him to step very close to a stranger, close enough that they can wrap their arm around his back. Megamind nearly breaks right then and there, but—he bares his teeth in an uncertain smile up at the cell phone camera, and he manages to postpone hyperventilating until he can get back into the invisible car.

Okay. Okay! He’s okay. That wasn’t so bad. That was okay.

…That was not okay. Megamind is getting better at realizing when things are not okay. 

He is also getting better at handling himself when he isn’t okay, which is to say he’s getting better at taking a few steps back and breathing deeply until he can think of something other than run/hide/fight . But he can't help himself, this time: he drives to Roxanne’s office and waits—paces—in Reception while they page her until she comes out of the elevator, looking around. 

She sees him and smiles. She looks a little confused that he’s come to see her, but that doesn’t matter. She sees him and she smiles, and Megamind is pretty sure he will never get over Roxanne being happy to see him. He feels himself stop moving, feels some of his restlessness settle as he breathes a little easier.

“Megamind?” Roxanne says, heels clicking on the tile as she walks quickly over to him. “This is a surprise! What’s up?”

“Need a hug,” he says, offering her a sheepish grin. “Do you mind?”

“Oh of course not,” she says immediately, stepping into his arms and wrapping him in hers, relaxing against him. “I’m never going to say no to a Megamind hug.”

He hums and tucks his face against the side of her neck, breathes her in. 

Now he’s okay. Megamind’s skills at helping himself feel better are improving, but seeing Roxanne is still the most surefire way to bring him out of a funk. 

(“Oh, of course it is,” said Minion, when Megamind mentioned being concerned about this to him. “Why do you think I insisted on kidnapping her so often? Integrating her into so many schemes?”)

After a long few seconds, he steps back a little, moves so that his head is resting against hers. There are a couple other people in Reception; Megamind knows they’re staring. It’s going to be a long time before he stops being hyperaware of his surroundings, angles of attack, faces he recognizes, exits and vantages he can use—but for now, he is slowly learning to acknowledge these things and then set them aside until he needs them. He still can't feel safe, but he's learning to try. 

“Lunch?” he asks, after a few seconds. “I am reasonably certain we won’t be disturbed by any of my…associates, this time.” Last time they went out, one of Megamind’s business-contacts-turned-enemies decided to take advantage of the supervillain’s apparent lack of armor and relaxed demeanor and attempt a hit. Both Megamind and Roxanne wear subtle armor, these days—the first thing Megamind did upon returning home from Roxanne’s after his nap was make a pair of studded bracelets and double thumb-pointer rings for Roxanne—so the attempt very much failed, and Megamind was able to avail himself of the opportunity to clarify a few points to his various networks regarding his continuing or discontinued involvement in their activities. He may be a ball of rattled nerves held together with spit and spite these days, but he is still Megamind and this is still his city. He’s easing off, not withdrawing completely. Total withdrawal from his more subtle operations is going to take time, and he still isn't sure he wants to give all of it up.

Roxanne knows this. Megamind was nervous about telling her, because he didn't want a fight and if she wanted him to immediately resign from all illegal activities, he was going to have to put his foot down on what timelines were realistic and which were beyond the realm of possibility. But Roxanne listened, and nodded, and said it made sense. 

"You're working toward something new," she said. "It's going to take time to build the world you want out of the world you have. Big changes have to happen in small steps if they're going to last; that's normal."

There's a reason Megamind loves her as much as he does. 

Now Roxanne grins at him and steps back, takes his hand. “Yeah,” she says, and nets her fingers with his. “Yeah, let’s do lunch.”

Megamind smiles.

He continues not to build any new weapons. He might be having trouble not thinking about them, but he can absolutely stop himself from building them. It's a step.

(Carrying weapons is, of course, another story. Weapons, shields—Megamind is never without his armor, even if he has reduced its surface area to something a little less ostentatious.)

Big changes. Little steps. He can do this. The first few weeks are rough, but nothing bad happens and nothing bad continues to happen and Megamind does eventually feel something slide into place in his mind like a key into a lock, and he thinks—oh. Oh, this—this is fine. Maybe he can't always control what he thinks about, but thoughts don't hurt anyone. He still wants them to go away but he doesn't have to feel bad about them. 

He breathes a little easier, after that. Not feeling guilty about the thoughts helps.

A week after that finds Megamind sitting at his drawing board in Main Storage. It’s morning, and pale late-summer sunlight is splashing down through the tall windows of the old power plant’s largest room, and the strings of Megamind’s idea cloud are hanging over his head with their clothespins and binder clips empty and waiting to be filled. His chalkboards are arrayed around him, wiped clean and ready for him to scrawl over them. And Megamind is sitting at his drawing board with his hands in his lap and his lip between his teeth, staring at his pencil and rubber eraser in their little tray.

He’s managed to bring himself this far, managed to actually sit down in front of his paper, but—

Well, it’s one thing not to feel bad about it. But actually making something else—if he starts, if he tries, and he just falls back into his old patterns—

He swallows.

It really shouldn’t be this hard. He really should not be so hung up on this whole good-and-bad thing. He even knows what he wants to work on! There’s a new office building in the works in midtown, forty-five stories high, and if Megamind can sell them on exceptionally thin photobioreactors instead of traditional window glass, he’ll be able to generate useful biomass out of light and the carbon dioxide generated by the city’s traffic and industry. It's a good idea, he knows it is, but actually picking up the pencil is proving difficult. 

Come on, hand. Pencil time . 

He presses his fingertips against his palms and grits his teeth. 

Then he jumps as his phone buzzes with a text. Oh, thank goodness. A distraction.

Something is wrong with Phobos, Rose says. You have a few minutes? 

Megamind has many minutes. All of the minutes. Yes.

On my way, he texts back, standing and already turning in the direction of his long rows of shelves. He'll need a few extra minutes to gather up a couple of his tablets and a few other tools so he'll be able to run diagnostics and hopefully make any repairs that might be needed. And he'll need to get dressed. See you in 30.

He turns out to have estimated his timing almost exactly, and half an hour later he's knocking on Rose and Salim's door to announce himself before he lets himself inside. Derya is in her playpen, knocking blocks together, and—it is honestly incredible how Megamind's whole body just— recognition/safety/love/protect—immediately orients itself in Derya's direction. 

"Hey," Rose calls from the dining room, "hey, c'mon in, thanks for coming—hang on, I'll be right there—"

Megamind looks up and—

—freezes.

There is. A stranger. Sitting in one of the dining room chairs. Her eyes are closed and Rose has some kind of bag with wheels open on the floor next to the two of them, and Rose is leaning forward and doing something to the stranger's eyebrows with a paintbrush.

He takes a breath. Okay, this is—this is unexpected but this is not necessarily bad, this hasn't gone bad yet and maybe it won't. It's just. Unexpected. That's all. 

"Okay," says Rose. "Lisset, I'll be right back, I just need to run upstairs and grab a sick brainbot—"

I can go upstairs, Megamind almost blurts, but Rose probably has a reason she wants him down here. And. He doesn't want to interfere with that. 

But Rose darts away up the stairs and Lisset sees Megamind standing frozen in the living room. She recoils, as Megamind had known she would. Startled expression, slight leaning back, expression falling to suspicion or uncertainty (he can never tell which; they look the same to him). 

He swallows, and places his toolbox and the bag with his tablets on the floor. This is apparently enough to draw Derya's attention, and she exclaims something and pushes herself up onto her feet against the wall of her playpen. 

Megamind redirects himself. The stranger named Lisset doesn't matter. Derya matters and Derya is reaching for him, so Megamind bends and lifts her up. "Hey, corazón," he murmurs. "You playing with your blocks? They're nice blocks, hm? Wow, you're drooly. More teeth coming in?"

Rose comes back down the stairs with Phobos flickering in her arms, its metallic tendrils draped up over her shoulders and coiled carefully around her arm and neck. "Here we go," she says. "I'm not sure what's up with it. It was fine last night, I'm pretty sure, but this morning it's all flickery and it seems to be having some motor troubles. Can't gain altitude, can't seem to grip anything."

Megamind places Derya back in her playpen and steps forward to gather the bot in against his chest. The little cyborg is humming steadily despite how its lights flicker, but it doesn't let go of Rose until Megamind runs his fingers over its blown-glass sail. "I'll figure it out," he says, as Phobos transfers its coiled grip to Megamind and wraps itself around him. "I think I've brought everything, but I might need to bring it back to Evil Lair if the problem is serious."

"Awesome, you're wonderful," Rose says. "I hope it's okay. I don't know what could have happened."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Megamind assures her. "The brainbots are resilient. Deimos and Phobos have some differences from the rest of the host, but nothing that should affect any critical functions."

He settles where he is, on the living room floor. Phobos continues to cling to him whenever it can, huddling close against Megamind's body, pressing its dome to his ribs. He isn't sure what that's about but he soothes it as best he can, petting its dome and arms with his fingertips as he waits for the diagnostics to run, conscious of Lisset's eyes on him but unable to care too terribly much. In the dining room, Rose continues to talk to her guest about…cosmetics, it sounds like. Megamind is incapable of not eavesdropping, no matter how he tries.

Huh. Software diagnostics indicate nothing wrong. Hardware, maybe?

Phobos twitches and clicks unhappily at the additional connection as Megamind plugs in, which he isn't expecting. "Shhh," he murmurs, "Hush, baby, you're okay. Daddy's here, daddy's got you."

Phobos whines. That, too, is unusual. The little bot seems to be indicating actual physical discomfort; while this is almost certainly a hardware issue, Megamind’s bots don't typically feel pain. Not as pain, at least. They register damage and malfunctions that need to be resolved, but other than that—

Nothing wrong in the hardware, either, except that the bot's neuromorophic motherboard is running several degrees hotter than normal.

Does it…is that a fever? Can the bots be feverish? They don't exactly have…immune systems…

Megamind stands. "I'm taking Phobos back to Evil Lair," he says. "When was the last time it had contact with Deimos or Derya?"

"Deimos last night, Derya…two days ago, probably?"

"And its symptoms only began this morning? You're sure?"

"Yeah," Rose says. 

Slowly, he nods. "I'm taking Deimos, too."

A few hours later, he texts Rose, Get Derya to the doctor NOW and have her tested for encephalitis. 

Rose texts back a grimace emoji. Yikes. OK we’ll go now. Will the bots get better??

Probably, he replies. I’m writing a counter-virus.

Is that a real thing? Rose asks, an hour or so after that. 

It is now.

Is it safe for babies? Also do we need to sterilize the nursery or something

Megamind blinks at that. She’s joking, right? She has to be. He knows Rose trusts him, but giving actual medical treatment to her daughter is beyond his ability to comprehend. 

He opts to ignore the question for now. I already sent a cleanup crew to your house, he sends back. They’re very thorough. 

Derya is not sick, thank every living god. Megamind is not sure what he would do if she caught some kind of illness from his brainbots, but he would feel awful. 

He keeps Phobos and Deimos in quarantine for treatment and observation and he completely forgets about his own immune system, which has not failed him in years. Two days after the bots go home to Rose and Salim’s house, Megamind wakes with a splitting headache and a mild fever.

He whines and rolls over, disappointment clawing at him. He was supposed to have a date with Roxanne, today, but Megamind does not deal well with headaches. Hopefully she won’t be upset at needing to reschedule, hopefully it’s just Megamind who’ll be disappointed about this. 

The sleep that finds him eventually is fitful and plagued with dreams brought on by the headache. He gasps out of a dream of gurgling pressure inside his skull to the sound of his bedroom door clicking softly closed—

—and then suddenly a hand is turning his covers back, and his mattress shifts, and Roxanne slides into bed beside him.

He blinks at her in the dim light, confused, wondering if he’s dreaming or hallucinating. “Roxanne?”

“Hey,” she says quietly. “Do you want…is this okay?”

He swallows. “You’ll get sick.”

“Maybe,” she replies, “but I’m pretty healthy. I’ll be fine. I can go, if you want me to.” 

He doesn't want her to. He's surprised, actually, at how badly he wants her to stay; sick and sleepy means he's vulnerable. 

He reaches for her, scoots toward her, rests his head on her chest.

"Wow, you're warm," Roxanne says, sounding surprised. 

"Fever," he mumbles. "Headache."

"Oh, honey." She lifts a hand, strokes his head. "I'm sorry. Headaches are the worst, and I bet they suck double for you." 

"Triple," he sighs. "Bad memories, too."

"Oh, no," Roxanne says. "I'm…god, do you want to talk about it?"

"No." He sighs. "Need to call the therapist. Wayne's therapist. There's some…stuff. I've noticed. Still affecting me, more than I thought it was. Can you just…talk to me? For a while."

"Anything in particular?"

Megamind yawns. "Tell me about next year? Next summer. The lake."

Roxanne is quiet for a while, lying in the dark and petting his head. Finally she says, "I bet you've never slept in a tent, before. I don't think I have one of my own, yet; we'll have to get one. Camping is sort of an extended exercise in…I don't want to say discomfort, but it's a different set of expectations. We'll go do some hiking, and some swimming…"

Still fever-warm and foggy, Megamind drifts off to the beat of her heart and the soft thrum of her voice under his ear.

Chapter Text

Megamind is in the park in Metro again, one afternoon a couple of weeks after that. Roxanne is walking beside him; he is growing much more comfortable on his own but this is a nice day, unseasonably warm, and Megamind is happy to spend it in the sunshine in his city, where hardly anyone screams at him anymore, with Roxanne.

They're walking by the lake, under the trees behind a small beach where some people are swimming and sitting on the rocky shoreline. Chatting quietly with each other, laughing. And—Megamind sees—

His smile slipping, he pauses, turns. Frowns out at the water.

(waves have rhythm; swimmers have rhythm; even people playing and talking have a certain kind of rhythm—patterns—Megamind is good at patterns—light catches on the water out of the corner of his eye, a break in the pattern—)

"Something wrong?" Roxanne asks. Megamind doesn't take his eyes off the waves, but he's gazing out towards the horizon, far past any of the swimmers; that's odd. "What are you looking at?"

"I thought I saw—there was a—"

The next thing Roxanne knows, Megamind is trilling a sharp command into his watch and ripping himself out of his boots.

"What," she begins, but he's already gone, sprinting across the rocks towards the lake.

"You," he snaps, tapping the shoulder of a girl with her phone out as he passes, "911, ambulance, now!"

He splashes into the water and dives, ignoring the startled exclamations around him. Roxanne hurries to follow him onto the beach and stares after him, hoping this isn't what she thinks it is.

"What's going on?" someone asks, but all she can do is shake her head.

"I'm not sure," she says. "He said he saw something, but I don't—" She cuts herself off as Megamind's head breaks the surface. He's holding onto a shape that becomes recognizable as an unconscious human when he begins kicking back to shore.

"—Yeah, Lakeside Park near Pavilion Three," the girl behind Roxanne is saying, "yeah I think someone was drowning—the um, the—lifeguard is bringing him in now—thanks, okay—"

Megamind kicks into shore at a clip that surprises everyone except Roxanne, and yes: he has a man with him, his eyes closed and his lips gray. A couple other humans splash out to meet them and help bring the swimmer onto the beach.

"I got my first aid cert renewed last week," someone says; "here, let me see—okay—"

Megamind stalks away and up onto the grass to retrieve a non-rebreather mask and small oxygen tank from the brainbots hovering there. He has a blanket and a towel, too, and—ah, and that must have been what he requested via the watch, Roxanne realizes. Quick thinking, but that's not terribly surprising, considering who he is.

On the stones, the woman with the first aid certification is still performing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Megamind crouches and begins setting up the oxygen tank and mask.

"Get this on him when he starts breathing," he says shortly, as Roxanne falls in at his back. "He should really be intubated, but that will have to wait for the paramedics. I can shove a tube down my own throat, no problem, but someone else? Ha! Rather not chance it. I'll be right back."

He rises, leaving the mask resting ready on the stones, oxygen already flowing, and jogs back into the lake.

Roxanne waits on the stones near the water's edge, bewildered and worried. Megamind doesn't often sound brusque like that, and there's a man on the beach who might be dying, and Megamind is back in the lake but Roxanne is pretty sure he's not set up for freshwater anymore; how soon will he need salt before his gills start bleeding?

"Dizzy," the woman with the first aid certification gasps, after a minute or so. "Can anyone else—"

A twenty-something with tattoos all the way up their arms and neck moves in. "Here, I got it."

Roxanne tucks her fingers in her armpits and stares out at the lake.

"So…you're Roxanne Ritchi."

"For thirty-seven years, now," she agrees, not looking at the man who spoke.

"And you're…dating? Megamind?"

Ugh. She's receiving this question with increasing frequency. Thus far, she's been skirting and deflecting it (the trick is not to deny anything; people will believe her or they won't, but Roxanne learned the hard way years ago—deny something they've already made up their minds on, and she's either delusional or a liar), but it's getting very old.

And she isn't in the best mood.

"I've heard rumors," someone else says. Roxanne glances at them, then looks back out at the water. Maybe if she just pretends to have gone temporarily deaf?

"I heard she was dating his fish."

"Looks to me like he is a fish."

"Yeah, just out of curiosity," says yet another voice, "what's wrong with humans? First Metro Man, now this?"

So much for ignoring them. Roxanne resists the urge to grit her teeth, snorts with laughter instead. "All right, first of all," she says, turning, "Metro Man is about as queer as a three-dollar bill and I was fully aware of that fact from our third 'date' forward." She gives the man an amused if derisive expression. "Which we covered in depth back when he came out, so I'm awfully curious about what, exactly, you consider 'dating.' And secondly," the edge in her voice is anything but friendly, "while I do tend to date people I've known for a while and already know I get along with, and while Megamind and Minion both fall into that category, I am curious as to why, exactly, you think it is any of your goddamned business what I, a stranger, do in my free time."

"I was just—"

"And thirdly," Roxanne contines, voice going knife-sharp despite the smile she's still wearing, "a man is fighting for his life on the ground in front of you, and you…are speculating about my love life? Is that really what you're doing?" She pauses for just a moment, then cocks her head and widens her smile to show a few more teeth than is usually proper. "What's your name?"

And, when in doubt, a healthy dose of public shame—plus the reminder that Roxanne can make that shame infinitely more public at her leisure—can usually be relied upon for a quick shut-down. Sure enough, the man flushes, mumbles something dismissive, and turns away.

There aren't any more snide comments, either. Roxanne turns back to the lake, satisfied. That's what I thought.

Circumstances don't allow time for anyone to recover; Megamind stands up in the shallows approximately three seconds later and staggers up onto the beach, dragging something floppy and rubber behind him.

"What's that?" someone asks.

"Inflatable paddleboard." He drops it on the ground with a wet splat. "Wonderful inventions until they spring a leak. Ah, thank you, Miss Ritchi." He takes the towel Roxanne hands him and scrubs it over his face.

"You've intubated yourself?" the stranger with the tattoos asks from where they're kneeling on the rocks, waiting to be tapped back in if needed.

Megamind shrugs. "No one else was going to," he says, frowning down at the man on the stones as he towels off. "Minion was unconscious and the brainbots are hopeless when it comes to first aid on organics."

"But wouldn't a doctor—"

"I don't do doctors," Megamind says, flat. The woman doing rescue breaths wheezes out a woo-hoo! and grabs for the oxygen. "I would rather have died. And I need to go," he adds, stepping back and clenching his hands at his sides as sirens become audible approaching the park. "I don't react well to, ah, medical personnel. Or uniforms. Sirens. And, and they don't generally—anyway, best of luck. I—"

"How did you know to look for a paddleboard?"

"That's Warner Staal," Megamind says, backing away. "He sells them. There was an article in the newspaper when he opened his shop four years ago. I—I have to—" He moves his head and peers up the embankment in the direction of the approaching sirens.

"You go ahead," Roxanne says, handing him his shoes. "I'll be right behind you."

Megamind nods and heads away at a brisk half-trot without looking back, elbows at his sides. Roxanne lingers just long enough to get the names and contact information of the two people who handled the first aid, then hurries to catch up with her boyfriend. She just barely manages to stop herself from reaching for his hand.

"What the hell was he thinking, going out that far without a personal floatation device on an inflatable paddleboard," Megamind snaps as she draws even with him, stones crunching against each other under their feet. "That's completely idiotic."

"Doesn't matter why," she says. "You got him in before his heart stopped and those people got him breathing again; he's lucky."

Megamind makes a grumbly sort of noise.

"We're going to want some kind of statement on this," Roxanne says. "Especially if he lives."

Megamind makes another grumbly noise, louder this time.

"Hey," Roxanne says, finally just giving up and gripping him by the wrist as she stops walking. "Hey, hold on. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he snaps, turning to face her without actually looking at her. "I'm fine. I just—it was—a lot of people. And. Looking at me. I am not used to that. And I am still technically a supervillain, and—I'm—not sure how to—talk. To people."

She sends him a tentative smile. "I thought you did okay," she offers. Megamind stares away at the ground, lips thin and shoulders tense. Roxanne studies his unhappy expression for a moment, then squeezes his wrist.

"Come on," she says, voice gentle. "Let's go back to the lair."

Megamind startles and looks up with something like alarm or dismay in his face. "We don't have to—"

"You're soaked," Roxanne says, "and you need salt water, and I had an unpleasant conversation with one of those people back there. I'd rather not stay."

Megamind swallows, nods. "Okay," he says quietly. "Okay, I'll…we can…go. To the lair."

He's quiet on the way back, and Roxanne is under no illusions as to why: he was viewing today as a date, of sorts. So was Roxanne, but she has a different ending in mind than Megamind probably does, and she's just figured out exactly how to make it work.

Also, she wants to talk to him, and she knows he isn't likely to speak freely under the sky. He is good at seeming calm, but Roxanne has known him for years; she knows most of his subtle tells. She's a reasonably observant person, generally speaking, and she knows Megamind was already struggling to keep from looking over his shoulder even before all the drama just now.

And she has noticed a few other things, recently. The way his eyes lose focus, and the way his hands get jumpy, and the frequency with which that happens—and she has also noticed that he has not crafted anything new in quite some time.

When they finally pull back into Evil Lair in somewhat despondent silence and Megamind puts the car in park on what looks like autopilot, Roxanne finally startles him out of his thoughts with, "Megamind, do you need to build something?"

He jumps and turns to look at her. "I don't, I—what? Build? What?"

"You haven't made anything new since we started this," she says. "Except for our armor bracelets and Wayne's auditory dampeners. Even good things." She tilts her head. "You okay?"

Megamind blinks, then slumps a little and looks away.

"I…don't know what to do," he tells her, corners of his mouth curving down, voice quiet. "Everything I think of circles back around and turns into guns."

Huh. Roxanne wasn't really expecting a particular response, but it wouldn't have been that one. "Guns?"

"Various ray guns. Lasers." He swallows. "I just," he says, "if I sit down to make something like the, the prototype energy conduits I want to try, or the moss-algae biopurification tanks, or the glass, and—and a new kind of ray gun falls into my hands instead—" He flushes, looks away. "Sorry," he mutters. "It's stupid."

"I don't think it's stupid," Roxanne tells him, putting her hand over his on the gear shift. "Your whole world revolved around weapons design for almost half your life; it makes sense that you're having trouble letting go of that."

"More than half," Megamind says, with a bitter little twist of his mouth, but he doesn't elaborate. After a moment, Roxanne shrugs.

"More than half, then," she says. "So of course you're still thinking in that direction. It's what you know. It's a safe bet." She squeezes his hand. "That doesn't mean you have to feel bad about it."

"I don't," he says, surprising her. "I don't feel bad—I did, but—not anymore. I just, actually sitting down and trying to make something else—if—" He swallows and pulls away. Looks down at his hands in his lap, fidgeting with the hem of his damp shirt. "What if that's all I can do?" he asks quietly. "What if…what if that's really all I'm good for?"

Roxanne thinks for a moment. "What if," she says, "you pick what you want to build, and we build it together?"

Megamind's gaze snaps to her and he lifts his head.

"Together," he says.

He's studying her face with startling intensity and Roxanne feels her ears heat. "I've never seen you at work except for when I was in the kidnapping chair," she says. "And I told you before, Megamind, your mind is incredible. If I can help—I don't want to get in the way, obviously, but—"

"You wouldn't be in the way," he says, sitting up. His eyes are wide, eyebrows rising; he's excited. Interested, at least. "You wouldn't be in the way at all, I would—I would love to work with you, Roxanne." Then he thinks of something. His face falls a little. "Oh, but—I don't want to rely on you for everything, though."

Roxanne laughs. "You aren't," she says. "Not yet, anyway. It's only relying on me for everything if you need me there every time. But just the first few times, just to start out…" She picks up his hand, turns off his underlay, then laughs quietly when Megamind makes a face and flinches at his wet clothes suddenly hitting his real skin. "I really would like to help," she tells him, smiling as she strokes his mechanical fingers between her palms.

Wet clothes or no, Megamind still looks absolutely floored. Before his mood can turn, Roxanne continues, "So. Day after tomorrow. Come over in the evening, and we'll decide what we want to do? You can bring some options with you, or we can play it by ear. Okay?"

He blinks, then ducks his head and sends her a sheepish sort of grin. "Giving me something to look forward to?"

She smiles. "In the short term," she confirms, voice teasing, still playing absently with his hand and running her fingertips over his palm.

"And the long term?"

He also sounds like he's probably teasing, but Roxanne pauses anyway. "It's Halloween, soon," she offers. She knows better than to say anything about Christmas, but other holidays should be safe. "You could take Derya trick-or-treating. Dress her up as a brainbot."

He laughs. "And dress a brainbot up as Derya," he says. Then he makes a sort of disappointed sound and adds, "It is her first Halloween, though. I imagine her parents will want this one to themselves."

But Roxanne has had a few seconds to think, now, and she already has an alternative. "Thanksgiving, then," she says. "You and Minion and I are all going out to my uncle's old cabin in Montana."

Megamind cocks his head at her. "We are?"

She nods. "Yep. We are. Maybe the rest of my family, too, I don't know; I'll have to talk with them about it. But there's your long term."

He studies her for a moment. "What about your job?" he asks.

Roxanne has some thoughts about that, but she isn't quite ready to share them yet. "My job will just have to take a back seat," she says breezily, and she brings his hand up to kiss his knuckles. "I've found something more important."

Megamind blushes, looks away. His fingers twitch. It really is amazing how much his prosthetic works like the real thing, Roxanne thinks, not for the first time. His silicone skin is obviously different, and the organomechanical muscles don't have the same give as biological ones, but the way it moves is indistinguishable from his other arm. She has to wonder how long it took him to perfect. Has to wonder if he had the technology ready to go when he lost his arm—was he prepared? Did he see that coming? Or was he caught unawares?

She squeezes his fingers gently. "For now," she begins—

—and breaks off, last-minute uncertainty kicking at her. She pauses, bites her lip.

Megamind turns back toward her and cocks his head. It's not like Roxanne to lose her nerve mid-sentence like that. "What?"

She goes pink under her freckles, then takes a deep breath and sends him a small, hopeful-looking smile. "Show me the reef pool?"

Confused, he wrinkles his face at her. Of course she knows he needs to regain equilibrium, she knows the pool is where he's headed, but…when she asked him to take them back to Evil Lair, he assumed she wanted to hang out with Minion until he was finished swimming. That's what usually happens when he needs to submerge for a while. And she looks nervous. Smiling, but nervous; is he missing something?

"The…but I haven't got any scuba gear for you, yet," he slowly says. "And, and you don't have a swimsuit."

"Do I need one?"

Does she—

Oh. Oh.

"Um," says Megamind, gaping at her as his massive brain briefly shorts out. "Um. No, I. I suppose not. If, if you're comfortable. That's—um—clothing, clothing optional."

"Good," says Roxanne, her smile relaxing, and she reaches to cup his jaw and pull him into a deep kiss.

Megamind keeps a wet-dry room accessible from the reef pool: a sort of domed grotto under the floor, with a shallow-water channel next to a raised floor for the rare occasions Minion gets hurt or sick and Megamind needs to stay with him without sharing water. It's close quarters, but the dry section offers a sink and a hose and a trunk with spare blankets and sheets for the low, narrow bed there. The lighting is dim and softly green, and water laps softly at the edges of the shallow channel—

—and if the bed is little more than a cot and the mattress is just a bit lumpy, well, neither Megamind nor Roxanne notices. By the time the two of them actually make it into the grotto, they are both rather heavily distracted.

Later, lying skin-to-skin together on the little cot, their bodies streaked with salt from the reef water and their breathing slow, both of them still glowing and loose-limbed and sated, Megamind murmurs, "I am about to sound hopelessly nerdy, Roxanne."

She lets out a startled little laugh and continues to trace absent spirals across his chest. "Oh?"

"If I tell you that working with you on a project is probably my oldest fantasy featuring you," he says, moving his fingers slowly through her hair despite its damp saltwater tangles, "will you make fun of me?"

Roxanne's lips twitch. "Maybe a little bit," she says. "Really? It is?"

"Mm. I am…terribly excited about this. You have no idea."

"Really," she says again, her hand stilling as she tips her head back to look up at him. "A project? That was your fantasy?"

He tugs a strand of her hair in an ineffective, affectionate response to her skeptical tone. "Not the only fantasy," he says, rolling his eyes, wrinkling his nose at her. "But yes. It was the first one."

Roxanne shifts a little, kicks the blanket until it isn't rumpled up under her hip anymore, then rolls onto her side. Megamind rolls with her, settles down spooning close against her back with his good arm hugged around her and the other under her neck. Roxanne makes a pleased little sound in her throat.

"Do I get to know why?" she asks, after a moment. She moves her hands to the stump of his arm and massages gently there, the muscles under his old scar and the surface-level calluses from his prosthetic. Megamind makes a soft noise in his subvoice, a rattling sort of rumble, almost a purr. She smiles. "Care to share any details?"

"If you want," he says. "Mmm, that's. Nice. Thank you."

But he doesn't say anything else for a while, doesn't explain or elaborate. He just lies quietly behind her, holding her.

"What kind of project?" Roxanne asks eventually, and Megamind chuckles.

"I could never decide what kind," he says. He's smiling, she can tell. "Not for sure. I thought about lots of things. As for details…" He trails off, then huffs a laugh. "You were incredibly frustrating, do you know that?" he says, amusement in his voice. "You refused to scream, you refused to be frightened, you took your cues entirely on your own terms—if you took them at all!—you refused to be even remotely impressed with anything I could come up with…very annoying."

Roxanne remembers those early days, remembers how irritated Megamind would get with her sometimes. She used to make it a point to get him going—after all, if he was going to disrupt her plans and piss her off, the least she could do was return the favor. He never stopped kidnapping her, never lost interest or stayed upset enough to just leave her alone, but he can't possibly have enjoyed all that.

"And you kept pestering me because…you liked being annoyed?" Roxanne can't keep the skepticism from her tone.

Megamind snorts. "What? No. The liking came later. But I respected you." He sounds wry. "You didn't react in any of the ways I was used to. No screaming, no shouting verbal abuse, no unsettling enthusiasm or gushing praise. You were…calm. Watchful. Also insightful, I liked that. And I'd had one or two who were similar before, but then on top of that you were kind to Minion. That was…significant points in your favor. And then you were consistently witty in addition to being fearless, and—well. I knew I could rely on you to break the monotony. You weren't boring."

Roxanne ducks her head a little, turns to kiss the skin of his arm. Megamind hums and snuggles closer, muscles moving under his skin, and he makes a soft little sound of pleasure when she rubs at the knot of tissue under his scar.

"And then when I got used to you," he continues, "and you were used to me, I began to notice—you were never impressed, not even a little bit. You participated in your own way and you were definitely paying attention, but your reports on my various antics were…professional. Strictly factual. Nothing beyond that."

"I didn't want to encourage you," Roxanne murmurs.

"It certainly would have been encouraging," Megamind says. "But you didn't, and it was annoying. I started—I began to actually work with you in mind, sometimes. To no avail, of course, but I did really try, a few times. I started to think—well, she's definitely intelligent—what if—what would happen if she ever was impressed? What would that look like?"

He swallows. Pauses for a moment.

"And I thought—well, she's curious. Because you were, Roxanne," he adds, "you always were curious; I could count on your interest, at least. So—she would ask questions, I thought, but—more directly. Actual questions, real ones, not just nosy leading statements to get me to give up information. I imagined that for a while, and then—then I thought, oh, maybe she would have an idea for me." He presses his hand to her sternum under the curve of her breast as his voice goes nostalgic, almost longing. "Maybe you would think of something, something I could make—something only I could make—and you would tell me about it! You would want to know if it was possible, you would attempt to describe the various particulars and I would try to understand…and of course you are very particular, and you would probably snap at me that I didn't understand what you were describing, and I would say well then why don't you help me actually do this instead of sitting there telling me how I should do it and all the ways I'm going to get it wrong—and—you would!" He moves his hand to her shoulder, squeezes; his shorn-off arm presses up against her neck just a little. He nuzzles his cheek against her back. "You would agree to work with me on it and make sure nothing went wrong. Because it would be your invention, really, simply with my hands and my tools and equipment.

"And, and then I would show you—my drawing board, and how I transfer my designs into the brainbots and which brainbots help me with which phases of a build, and the prototype labs and the test and staging arenas—and maybe you would add to your idea when you saw what the possibilities were. We would talk and work out a design, and then of course we'd both take part of the build—argue over who had the spanner last and what they did with it—I doubt you can weld, so I would handle the welding and electrical and you would do the body work and assembly and—anything else you wanted. I thought it would be fun," he concludes, sounding very wistful. "We could have fun with it. Maybe you would be impressed and maybe you wouldn't, but you would have fun. And I…could help you make something new. Something I never thought of."

Roxanne swallows the lump in her throat and rolls over so she can hug one arm over his body, press her face to his long throat. "That does sound like fun," she says softly.

"Doesn't it? I thought so." He hugs her back, strokes her back with his fingertips. "I really am looking forward to this. Thank you," he adds, "for being so willing to help me."

"Anything I can do," Roxanne tells him, and he squeezes her.

Then she pauses. Moves her hand that's pinned between them to smooth the backs of her fingers over his chest, absently rubbing along one of the longer scars there. It seems not to have healed properly; there's a slight but noticeable dip in the muscle. "I really want this to work," she admits, her voice soft. "Us."

Megamind's heart gives a hard pulse. "So do I," he replies. "I love you a lot, Roxanne," he says, slipping his arm down tighter around her and hugging her hard for a moment. "I'm—and thank you for bearing with me; I'm not—really sure what I did to make you fall in love with me, but—thank you."

It really is incredible, Roxanne thinks vaguely, how extremely cuddly this man is. He's a very solitary person, very private despite his bubbly personality, but when it comes to physical contact he is absolutely ravenous for it. As soon as he realized Roxanne truly would tell him if she needed space or to simply not be touched, all hesitation about touching her went out the window.

She's so glad that's the case.

"You didn't do anything," she says. "Megamind—I meant it when I said I want you in my life. I want you with me even if you decide you need to go back to villainy. I love you. It's not about what you do; I love who you are."

He huffs a laugh. "Skittish," he says dryly. "Shy and nervous and clingy and too jumpy and full of weird disturbing thoughts."

"Yes, all of that," she agrees, propping herself up on her elbow and grinning down at him as he finally settles onto his back again, close beside her, almost underneath her. "But you forgot some things."

He runs his hand slowly up her side. "Such as?"

"Such as…oh, fun-loving and kind and loyal," Roxanne says, "and full of wonderful amazing impossible ideas. Determined. Warm. And I love how you cling," she adds. "Physically, I mean; I know the rest of it isn't really very healthy. I know you're working on it. We'll get there. But I really do love how you hold me." Her grin softens, turns fond. "I used to think," she says, touching his face, the scarred plane of his cheek, "it was so silly and cliched when people said they feel like the only two in the world when they're with their partner. But I swear, sometimes you look at me and smile…and I just…everything else goes away. You put your arms around me and I don't have to think about anything else."

His eyebrows twitch, pull together, and he tips his head up a little, asking for a kiss—and of course Roxanne leans down and presses her lips to his and kisses him slow and sweet, with her fingertips brushing his cheek and his arm hugging the small of her back.

Roxanne chuckles as she lies back down and cuddles in against him on the narrow bed. "Also, you smell delicious," she says. Megamind snorts. "I know it's just the cyanide but I swear you smell like an almond cake, it's wonderful."

He laughs.

"And you aren't the only one who feels—inadequate," she admits, after a moment. "Uncertain, scared. I…I'm just human. I'm doing my best, but I don't know how to do any of this, any more than you do. And you're," she laughs a little, "an actual supergenius, okay; what happens when—when you realize I'm nothing special and you don't need me?" Megamind makes an indignant noise at that and she quickly adds, "I know that's silly, I know that's not really how this works, but. I still worry, sometimes."

Megamind lifts his head again and stares at her, then growls sharply enough that Roxanne startles and sits up and looks down at him. "I want to get one thing straight right now," he says, glaring at her but reaching up to tug her shoulder so she slowly lies back down, half-draped across him with her arms on his shoulders so she can keep looking at his sharp face. "I am well aware that I do not need you, Roxanne. I am with you because I love you. You are the smartest person—the absolute smartest person I know. Smartest, most observant. Witty and spirited and, and brave—and you do so much, so much more than you need to; you don't know how to leave things alone. You're a bulldog, Roxanne; you're amazing."

She smiles, confused but flattered, as he presses his blunt fingertips into the muscle beside her spine and drags them down. "I don't think I'd say smartest," Roxanne begins, closing her eyes as he rubs in little circles at the small of her back. "I'm—mmm, higher—I'm no quantum engineer."

"Different kinds of smart," he says. He picks himself up and kisses her between her eyebrows, then bends to press their foreheads together for a moment. "Just because you can't visualize interparticular spin interactions doesn't mean you aren't brilliant. You—okay," he says, when he falls back and finds Roxanne still looking as doubtful as she can while getting an impromptu, one-handed back massage, "okay, look—you remember the Fell Firestorm, of course you remember. You realized the fuel conduits were misaligned before I even turned it on. And you told me so before the plan could go south. Yes?"

"I mean, you had to explain what it was, first—"

Megamind rolls his eyes. "Oh, so you can't look at a complicated device designed by someone who isn't even your species and immediately guess its full purpose; oh no, you're an idiot; how did I never realize." He shakes his head at her, begins working his way up her back to her neck. "I didn't tell you its primary fuel source was plasmoctane," he reminds her, pushing his thumb and fingertips on either side of the dip at the base of her skull and rubbing there. Roxanne groans and drops her forehead to his chest—the back of her neck might not be as sensitive as Megamind's, but this still feels amazing. "You figured that out on your own, some-fucking-how, I'm still confused about that. And I've never explained the safety requirements for plasmoctane-acetylene burners, I am quite certain I never did, so how you knew it was wrong—"

"It just had a—it had a similar setup as most of your brainbots," Roxanne mumbles, in a tone that suggests she would be protesting if she wasn't so relaxed. "It was obviously supposed to, anyway."

Megamind snorts. "Yes, obviously," he agrees, "except for the part where most people probably would not actually notice it. And even if they did, they wouldn't be confident enough to yell at me about it and tell me to," he grins and switches his voice over to Roxanne's, "go and take a fucking nap before you blow us all to kingdom come, Megamind, I mean come on, this is basic!"

Roxanne stifles a laugh. "I didn't really sound like that, did I?"

"You very much did," Megamind tells her, warmth in his voice as he moves his hand to the slope of her shoulder, pushes and pulls at the muscle there. She makes an incoherent, pleased noise and lies down still further, flattening herself on Megamind's thin chest. "Also, if you noticed it was configured along the same lines as a brainbot's thrusters, then you already suspected something was amiss before I explained it; I didn't have to explain it at all. I just confirmed what you already knew.

"And that's—that's the kind of brilliant you are, Roxanne," he finishes. "You notice things. You're perceptive. And, and not just with machines and things, either; you—" He swallows, stills his hand. "You saw me drowning when no one else did. And you threw me a ring. I didn't even realize how tired I was until you pulled me in." He pauses briefly, and Roxanne struggles up enough to kiss the base of his throat before finally curling back down next to him with her head pillowed on his shoulder, her arm hugging his body, his thigh between her legs. "You didn't have to do that," he says, laying his long hand on her arm, pressing gently. "You didn't have to do any of it. I kept asking about your family all those months ago because I was selfish, I—didn't care, not at first—I only wanted you to smile at me again. You didn't have to bring me all the way into your life like you did. But you did. And I consider myself unfathomably lucky that you somehow fell in love with me in the process."

Roxanne smiles a little. "Even with all the nasty things I've said to you over the years?"

Megamind shrugs. "You say nasty things when you're upset," he says, stroking her hair and shifting just a little bit so he can tangle their legs together more favorably. "And I have a garbage sense of self-worth, and that's—I can already see that coming to bite us one of these days, yes, but—so we have flaws, so what? I love you. I love the flaws."

"Oh, don't start with I love you because you're not perfect," Roxanne begins, but stops when Megamind bursts out laughing.

"Not because," he says. "God, no, I don't love you because you're flawed, everyone is flawed." He shakes his head. "With," he says, lying naked and and content at Roxanne's side. "With the flaws. I know the flaws; I love them, too. They're part of you. How can I possibly not love all of you?"

Roxanne swallows against the sudden lump in her throat. "Oh," she says, when she can. That's a difference she probably never would have thought of. "Oh. I'm—thank you, my love; that's—a wonderful way to put it. And—and Megamind, you—I love yours, too, and I hope you know that. And I hope you know you're worth more than you think—you are worth so much more than the things you build."

He nods. Sighs. "I know inventing isn't all I'm good for," he says. "In theory."

Roxanne tilts her head.

"Megamind," she says. "I'm curious—when you say garbage sense of self-worth, how garbage are we talking? What do you think you're worth to the world, beyond making big guns?"

He hesitates. Finally he offers, "Pickled frog in a jar?"

Roxanne splutters with startled laughter. "Pickled—Megamind, that's awful! I'm sorry, I—that's not funny, I'm just—" She shakes her head, incredulous. "Why pickled, of all things?"

He shrugs. "Science class," he says, quiet.

And Roxanne thinks—

E.T. gave him nightmares because of men in white coats; he left the city as a child but almost certainly not by choice; he'd rather die than visit a hospital; he all but screamed at Wayne for looking inside him—

—frog, a pickled frog in a jar, science class—

What the actual screaming fuck, she almost says.

"No," she says, when she finds her voice. "No, you are good for so much more than that. There's so much more in this world for you. I promise. You deserve so much more."

He frowns. "I don't know about deserve."

"I do," she tells him, her heart and mind both still reeling in horrified shock, hoping beyond hope that she's wrong and that isn't what it sounded like. "I know you don't know, but I do, and you deserve good things. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to have people around you who care about you, who want to keep you safe and want you to have fun, who want to have fun with you. You deserve a future where you don't feel like you're trapped in something that's going to kill you."

"How do you know," he murmurs.

Roxanne squeezes him. "That's the wrong question," she says. "Everyone deserves those things. Everyone. The real question is, why don't you know that?"

He's quiet for a few seconds and then his expression scrunches and his body sort of—jerks—

Roxanne wraps her arms around him and squeezes him as hard as she can. "And Megamind," she says, "I should tell you. I was always impressed with you. Angry too, and resentful—but impressed. You are so, so brilliant. Your brain is—god. Incredible." She reaches up to rub her hands backwards over the smooth dome of his scalp.

Megamind twitches, then slowly tips towards her and turns his head, so Roxanne picks herself up on her elbows and kisses him with her hands still cradling his massive skull. She kisses him slow and deep and leisurely, then eases back and bumps her nose gently against the soft line of his facial hair.

It isn't quite as soft as it usually is. She lifts her head and grins.

"Your beard is all messy," she tells him, and Megamind flushes and cocks a wry eyebrow at her.

"Oh, and whose fault is that," he says dryly, and Roxanne laughs and kisses him again. She smiles against his mouth, and Megamind hums and brushes his hand down her body to her hip, then lower.

Chapter Text

The project goes better than Megamind was expecting. His fears do not manifest themselves as reality. He engineers a new form of photophilic algae to live between the panes of glass for the high-rise downtown, and for a couple of days, Roxanne's refrigerator is full of agar gels and petri dishes. She stays at Evil Lair some of those evenings, except for the hours she spends at her apartment, listening to Megamind talk animatedly about what he's doing now—or next—and why.

He has finally begun to relax somewhat in their relationship, finally started to lose some of the shocked oh-god-we're-gonna-crash air that he'd had in the beginning. And one night, when Roxanne wakes up from a restless dream of blood on blue skin, she staggers down the stairs from her loft for a glass of water and finds Megamind sitting cross-legged on her living room floor in his pajamas.

He has headphones on, curved around the back of his head instead of over the top of it, and he's bouncing absently to the music as he pipettes something into the little centrifuge that's taken up residence on Roxanne's coffee table.

He's humming.

Enchanted, Roxanne stops before he can realize she's there. Megamind is not good at humming at all—she can hear the song he's listening to from where she's standing; it's something by Led Zeppelin, she's pretty sure—his voice skips whole steps and sounds terribly out-of-tune and off-kilter. But he has soft chirrups and whirrs under some of the notes like a whispery bird, gentle little trills he doesn't seem to be aware of.

And then something changes. His voice goes low and hollow, crooning in his chest like—like a blues trombone, or something, what the hell—and okay now there's the melody he couldn't keep up with before. Roxanne's eyebrows shoot up under her hairline. Megamind is still whisper-trilling in his upper register, but the sound he's making in his throat sounds like nothing she's ever—

"Good lord," she blurts.

Megamind chirps sharply and spins, looking very spooked. Roxanne waves at him. "No no! I'm sorry, you don't have to stop! Sorry, the centrifuge, finish the thing—"

He makes another shocked noise and whips back around.

Roxanne hesitates, then crosses the floor to him instead of going to the kitchen. "What's up? Anything I can help with? I didn't know you were coming tonight."

His ears turn pink. "Neither did I. Sorry, I…couldn't sleep. Stressed."

"Aw." She brushes a kiss over his scalp as she passes on her way to perch on the edge of the sofa opposite him. "Stressed about what?"

He gives a sharp shrug. "Everything? Us, retirement. Minion is a nervous wreck already and I'm trying not to bother him. But. That means I come here and bother you, instead!" He wilts a little. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry!" She yawns, shaking her head. "God, no, don't be sorry. I'm always happy to see you."

Megamind twitches a small smile at her but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Have you been over here a lot while I'm asleep?" she asks. And then, when he cringes and goes bright red and wide-eyed, she quickly adds, "Not because I'm upset! I just want you to come to bed, if you're here. You don't have to be se-secr-secret—" She yawns again, hard enough that she has to put her hand over her mouth, but then she sends him a smile. "Just, you can come crawl into bed with me anytime. Okay?"

He blinks. Settles back a little and tilts his head at her. "You would let me do that? Truly?"

"Of course! It's you, why wouldn't I?"

Megamind stares at her.

Roxanne smiles at him, leans down and touches his hand. "Finish your pipetting," she says, getting to her feet, "I need water. I'll be right back."

He nods, bends forward.

She shuffles into the kitchenette, smiling to herself. Megamind is such a sweetheart. He's been so concerned about boundaries and accidentally stepping on them, hyperaware of their previous relationship. He doesn't need to be nervous, of course; Roxanne will tell him if something is wrong. But he worries.

Still, she supposes she can understand his hesitation. Slipping uninvited into her bed is possibly a bit of a leap for someone who used to drug her against her will. That's reasonable.

Megamind is finished with his work when she comes back to the sofa and places a glass of water by his hand. He looks at it, looks at her as he curls his fingers around the sweating glass.

"I love you," he says.

Roxanne smiles. "And I love you," she returns. "Do you need to be doing this? Is it time-sensitive?"

He glances down at the petri dishes and test tubes. "No. They can go in the refrigerator for now."

She nods. "Cool. Let's put them away, then? Come to bed, love. It's late."

Megamind takes a sip of his water and sighs, nods. But he doesn't actually move.

Roxanne tilts her head. "You okay?"

He shakes his head.

She frowns. Hmmm…okay. What to do? She could come around the table and sit with him. Or…

She stands up. "Come on. Help me put the stuff where it goes."

And he does, of course. He gets to his feet and stacks the petri dishes as Roxanne gathers up the test tubes in their stand, and he follows her to the fridge and arranges everything on the shelves Roxanne cleared out for him a few days ago. He takes the test tubes and slips them into the door of her fridge.

Roxanne closes the refrigerator with a soft k-chunk and then turns to pull him close. "Sweetheart. What's wrong? Come here."

He groans and steps into the hug, drops his forehead to her shoulder. The metal at his temple is smooth against her skin. "I don't know," he mumbles. "I don't know what's wrong. I just feel terrible and my heart won't slow down and I keep thinking. It's all guns again."

She hums sympathetically. Megamind heaves an unhappy sigh. After a moment, Roxanne offers, "Make an algae gun? Shoot bioactive green goo at people."

"...What."

"Good for the environment," Roxanne says, grinning.

He snorts. "What?"

"Yeah! And you shoot it and it would go—pblap."

Megamind dissolves into tired giggles.

"Let's go to bed," Roxanne says, and leads him away.

"You did a bunch of work tonight without building a gun," she tells him later, trying to sound encouraging. "You're going to be okay."

"I know." He shoves his forehead against her bare stomach. "I know, I know. I do."

"It's okay to be scared."

"I'm not scared," he grumbles, muffled against her soft skin. Roxanne strokes his head, his shoulders.

"It's a very new thing you're doing," she tells him gently. "New is frightening. I would be scared."

Megamind makes a small, unhappy sound, and crawls a little further up her body before flopping down again.

After a pause, Roxanne yawns, and then says, "Well. No matter what you do when you come over…I want you to come snuggle afterwards. Okay?"

He nods. "Yes. I can do that. I will be happy to do that. Are you sure? Even without telling you?"

She snorts. "We're dating," she says. "Of course I'm sure."

"Still," he says, "I think this is maybe not a good thing to assume, dating or otherwise. But…all right. Thank you."

"I love you," Roxanne tells him.

He's quiet. She squeezes him and trails her fingertips down the scar that runs nearly the length of his spine, a ropy thing that must have been hell on wheels to heal.

"Hey, um," she ventures, after a moment, "do you…do you have any ideas about why weaponry is your go-to? I sort of assumed it was because of feeling unsafe, but…is there something else?"

Megamind sighs. "Why would you ask me that," he says, sounding very tired.

"I was just…thinking." She swallows, gently cups her hand over the swell of his skull and presses his head to her chest. Megamind burrows closer, curls tighter around her body and flops the blankets up over the two of them. "You said, when we got back to Evil Lair a few days ago, what if this is all I'm good for, and…I don't know. Something about that…I don't know. But maybe it's nothing!" she quickly adds. "Is it? Nothing?"

He sighs again. He's quiet for a while, but finally he says, "I doubt it. It took me a while to make the connection, but—no. I don't think it's a coincidence." He takes a deep breath. "And, thinking about it…I don't think it's a coincidence that I felt so incredibly trapped in that line of work for so long."

Roxanne swallows hard and glances at her alarm clock, which reads a quarter to four in the morning. She has to get up for work in a few hours, but—screw it, she decides. This has been weighing on Megamind terribly, and Roxanne has been worried since she started wondering about it. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Megamind makes a sort of disgruntled noise in his throat. "Not particularly. And it's stupid, probably. Almost certainly stupid; I knew it was bullshit when they said it! It should not have gotten to me the way it did. But."

"Please tell me," Roxanne says, startling herself. "I'm worried. 'They'? Who were 'they'?"

He hesitates, then lifts himself up on his elbows and nudges at her. "Roll over. I need to be on your other side and I need to be holding you. Please. Now."

Roxanne follows where he guides her, and Megamind curls close against her back with both arms wrapped around her, sort of the way he held her all those weeks ago at her sister's house when he staggered inside out of the rain.

"Holding me?" she asks as he settles. "Not me holding you?"

"No. Door behind me, nothing grabbing me."

Oh. That doesn't bode well. Then again, anything that can drive a supergenius of Megamind's caliber to villainy and keep him there has to be pretty bad.

"Can I…?" She slides her lower hand up to thread her fingers into the spaces between his where he has his arm hugged up around her side. "Is that okay?"

"I think so." He exhales through his nose, his cool breath ghosting over her bare shoulder. "I should let you sleep," he says, instead of elaborating. "It's late."

"That's what Minion's wake-'em-up juice is for," Roxanne tells him flatly. Minion's wake-'em-up juice is an absurdly strong white tea sweetened with honey and milk until the sleepy drinker can get the bitter concoction down. "I've been worrying about this, I really just…please tell me."

He breathes for a moment.

"I was a child," he finally says, "when they came for me. They came in black suits and white coats," and he doesn't have to elaborate on that for Roxanne to know exactly what it means, "and they. Took me away. And they—studied. Me. My genetics, my psychology, my physiology. And it—it was—they allowed me, while I was there," he says, taking a deep breath, "to overhear certain conversations. They wanted me to think that if I—did—what they wanted—that it would be better. They thought, they thought if they didn't tell me directly, they might have a better chance of convincing me."

Roxanne frowns. She's pretty good at reading between lines, but there are entirely too many possibilities in there for her to sort through. "I don't think I understand."

Megamind clears his throat, and when he speaks again, it's in another man's voice. But the sound of it is vague and sort of faraway—close by, but hollow. "Let it think it's manipulating us," he says. "Let it think it has leverage. It's smart, too smart. Engaging directly will only tip our hand."

Roxanne frowns harder. Behind her, Megamind swallows. "They didn't know I could hear them, for that part," he says dryly, in his own voice again. "Idiots. Anyway, they said they wanted to learn from me. What they truly wanted was for me to design weapons for them."

Ice rinses down her spine and runs her blood cold. A world in which the US military is armed with Megamind's technology is not a world she wants to imagine. "Jesus," she whispers.

"Indeed." He takes a breath and switches his voice back again. "Well it isn't cooperating with us in the slightest and frankly I'm sick of dealing with it," he says, in an extremely exasperated tone. "It's a drain on the budget and a waste of my fucking time; sign the kid over to xenomorphology and be done with it. See what they make of it; maybe they'll find something useful."

She bites her lip hard for a moment. "And…xenomorphology…I can guess what that is, but god. I'm guessing that was the whole 'biological study' fear you've got?"

He nods against her shoulder. "Yes. They sucked. To be fair—let's be fair—I do not think they intended to hurt me very badly. It was study, you understand, not torture. But when you put a shunt in someone's skull to keep them complacent, you have to know it's going to cause some kind of pain."

Roxanne blinks, heart twisting in her chest, stomach roiling. "A shunt," she echoes. "I don't—"

"It's a tube," he says. "Well, a valve, in my case. Placed through a hole in the skull to drain cerebrospinal fluid into another part of the body where it can be reabsorbed. It's an entirely reasonable procedure, intended to relieve pressure on the brain in cases of excess fluid or swelling."

"Intracranial pressure," Roxanne says, remembering a term she heard somewhere, and feels him nod again.

"Yes. Unfortunately, I did not have an excess of fluid or swelling. In my case it created a pressure imbalance rather than relieving one."

Roxanne bites her lip, squeezes his hand. His fingers tighten between hers ever so slightly.

"They intended it to keep me foggy," he says, "to keep me from thinking of more ways to escape. It worked, but. It gave me the worst headaches. Full-body migraines on days they took fluid. I was foggy because thinking of anything except how badly everything hurt was…difficult."

Oh god, she wants to say, but her voice won't seem to work.

"Here," Megamind says, taking her hand and guiding it up and back, pressing her fingertips to the base of his skull behind his ear. There's a slight depression there, only about the diameter of a pencil eraser. "Feel that? Just there. Feel it?"

She swallows, forces words. "That's where it was?"

"That's where it was," he confirms. "It never did heal properly."

He lets go of her hand and wraps his arm back down around her, shoves his face against her back. "Anyway," he says, voice muffled, "there was…more, of course, but it was a long time ago. I would prefer not to talk about the rest of it. The point is, I think that might be…" He sighs, swallows. "I think it might have gotten to me. The weapons thing."

"Oh love," Roxanne says, heartsick and hurting for him, "oh, my love. God. I'm so sorry."

His arms around her tighten almost imperceptibly. "I used to think," he says, "that I had moved on. Processed it. Put it behind me."

"But really you just tried not to think about it?"

He makes a sound of assent. And then, to her surprise, he says, "And then I—met—Derya. She's so small. She's just a kid. A baby. And I—if she ever—if anyone ever—did to her what they did to me—I would rip this world in half."

"I would help you," Roxanne says, fervent. "God, Megamind, I am so sorry. I'm so sorry that happened to you, sweetheart, but...yes, that does sound like it would do a number on a kid's psyche. Knowing that's what they wanted from you…I can't imagine."

He hums. Then he says, sounding hopeful, "Now that we know that's probably why, do I still need therapy? I don't need therapy now, right?"

"That's not how it works, I'm afraid," Roxanne tells him, still trying to get her head around this and wishing she could hold him. "You definitely do need to see a professional about it."

He huffs a breath against her shoulder. "Balls," he says flatly, and Roxanne splutters a startled laugh.

"I know, I know you aren't happy about it," she says, stroking his arm, "but—my love, oh my love—that's—way beyond my pay grade. And just knowing what caused your trauma isn't enough to make it go away, I'm sorry."

From the way he heaves yet another sigh, she's pretty sure he already guessed that.

"Well," he says, "thank you for listening, at least. I…apologize for dropping this on you at four in the morning."

"I'm glad you did!" She shoves herself backwards against his thin chest. "I'm glad you did, I…sort of was afraid it might be something like that, when you said the frog thing. I'm so glad you told me. Thank you for telling me."

He turns his head and rests his cheek against the curve of her shoulder, just the same way he did that first night on Rose and Salim's futon. "Tell me again," he says softly. "Please?"

"I love you," Roxanne says. "Megamind, I love you so much. I'm going to be here, I'm going to be right here beside you, okay? No matter what. For the rest of your life. I'll be right here."

He hugs her. She wishes to god she could hug him back, but she knows why she can't. It's awful. "And," Megamind says, still quiet, "that's going to be a long time?"

"Please can I roll over and hug you," she blurts. She feels him startle. "Please? It's okay if you can't, I just—Megamind—"

"You can hug me," he says, after a surprised second or so. "Yes, I think, I think it should be okay now. Yes please."

Immediately, she squirms around in his arms and shrugs him up onto her pillow so she can hug him tighter than tightly for a second before settling back and pushing her forehead against his, their noses brushing.

"Yes," she whispers, firm. "Yes, it's going to be such a long time. Such a long time, Megamind. You're going to watch Derya grow up, you hear me? You're going to drive her to school and teach her how to scare off all her bullies. How to throw a punch, how to shoot a ray gun, how to play poker and shoot pool. All of that."

"What makes you think I know how to play pool," he says, sounding amused and somewhat startled now.

"You're almost forty and you're an alien supergenius from the wrong side of the tracks; do you not know how to play pool?"

He snorts. "No, I do," he says, "of course I do. I just didn't realize you were aware of that."

"I was guessing," she says. "I'm very good at what I do."

She's beginning to calm down from her earlier unhappy state, now that she has her arm over his slender body and can feel his soft breath brushing over her lips. "I love you," she tells him again. "Megamind, I was never expecting to love you as much as I do, but I love you more than air."

He hums and turns his head to the side a little, fits the gentle sweep of his temple to the curve of her forehead, and curls his fingers against her back.

After a moment, he murmurs, "I love you, too. Sleep, Roxanne. You need it."

She sighs, huffing her own very warm breath over his throat and shoulders, and holds him close and safe as she closes her eyes.

Chapter Text

Roxanne whines when her alarm goes off in the morning, and Megamind groans and blinks his sleep-heavy eyes open to find he has his face shoved against her throat and Roxanne's face is in her pillow and their arms are everywhere and their legs are tangled. His back hurts, his hip hurts. He's too warm, almost feverishly so, and Roxanne is sort of sweaty and sticky and her skin feels weird against his.

It's wonderful. He wants to wake up this way forever.

She peels herself off him and takes a shower as Megamind dozes happily in her bed, gets dressed while he watches with his eyes slitted open and his breathing long and slow with sleeping.

He tips his face up for a kiss as she says goodbye, and Roxanne has to laugh as she hurries to get the elevator down so she can make it into work on time. Megamind definitely was not awake when he mumbled, "Loveyu. Marrimee?" but Roxanne definitely meant it when she kissed him and said, "Of course." And his joyful little trill as he snuggled back down into the pillow with the scent of her hair, his happy purr behind her as she left down the stairs, more than answered any lingering doubts she might otherwise have had. If he ever asks, she'll say yes.

And maybe it's foolish to be already thinking of the rest of their lives! Maybe it is! The thought has definitely occurred to her that she's fallen awfully quickly for her sweet alien. But what is she supposed to do? Not imagine nice things? Roxanne can't help but dream about the days to come, and from the way Megamind keeps asking so hopefully to hear about the future he can't imagine for himself yet...she's pretty sure he's in the same boat. 

The fact that he can look for a future when his past is so full of pain is absolutely breathtaking. She's still reeling over last night's revelation and afraid to know what there was more, of course might mean. 

But it is the past. The future is going to be so much brighter. Roxanne is sure of it. They'll do better, make it brighter, build it strong and good. 

They'll make it. 

Two months after Megamind and Metro Man made their new arrangement known, the citizens of Metro City are beginning to realize something is up. Metro Man is working something like fifty hours a week, instead of one hundred and thirty hours. Megamind hasn't rolled out one single doomsday device since the announcement, and he is almost certainly romantically involved with Metro Man's ex-girlfriend.

There's a new hashtag, now. #MegaSelfie. Megamind is accustomed to the #MegaMecha tag that used to accompany news of his battles, but this is a new one. He's not sure how he feels about it. He is slowly getting used to the pictures, though. Two people have attempted to stab him, but his armor held and did its job and Megamind refuses to be cowed. He continues to smile for pictures when asked, and KMCP spins this into a narrative of—spirit or bravery or something embarrassing like that, he isn't sure. He points the armor out to Roxanne but she says that isn't the point.

So far, the whole not-being-evil thing has been shockingly easy for Megamind to manage. Conceptualizing it is still difficult—his brain sometimes feels like several wet cats fighting in a sack—but once Roxanne helped him get started, the doing of non-evil things was not hard at all. Just…put down the spanner and the power drill and go sit in the sun somewhere and breathe. Text his girlfriend. Visit his niece. Research problems that need to be fixed. Find the sources of those problems. Brainstorm how to fix them. Help Wayne figure out how to build a plan and structure for when he assumes control of Scott Enterprises.

And try to keep from thinking about weaponry.

Despite his initial concerns, this does start to get easier. Roxanne helps him to start designing and building more new things in spite of the thoughts that plague him. He keeps busy, keeps a steady stream of small projects going while he thinks about the bigger ones, allows himself to sit and do quiet things for himself, just because, and…it gets easier. It does get easier. Slowly.

If he has nothing else to do, he reviews brainbot footage. This also helps. A surprising percentage of the host volunteered for city defense and community service duties when Megamind put out the call, and they seem to be getting the hang of it pretty quickly. A few of the younger bots still have trouble remembering not to bite, but their older counterparts are keeping an eye on them. And there was some initial trouble with unsavory types trying to coerce brainbots into working with them, or entice brainbots over to try and catch them, or—one time—use a group of brainbots for target practice. But Megamind's brainbots are Megamind's brainbots, and they are more than capable of defending themselves.

"What did you expect?" Megamind says, when approached and asked about this on the street one afternoon. "I think I'd try to bite your leg off, too, if someone was trying to throw a net over me."

"They aren't even alive," says the man with the microphone, and Megamind blinks and then sneers at him.

"That doesn't mean they can't think," he says. "That doesn't mean they don't deserve respect. Honestly! Who raised you?"

That particular exchange doesn't end well. Megamind does not punch the man, which he feels shows an admirable amount of restraint on his part, but public responses are mixed. Apparently, calling someone a 'two-bit, ignorant hack who couldn't find his own ass with both hands and a map' on camera is not widely regarded as 'restraint.'

Whatever.

But in general, the brainbots seem to be doing very well in their new roles as community helpers, and the citizens of Metro are adapting quickly to their presence around town. The overall response has been incredibly positive. Megamind has some plans for how to tackle the underlying issue behind the outpouring of support—the heavier roles the brainbots are handling should be jobs given to humans, funded by taxes. Most of these issues should really be covered by properly-funded social safety nets; the fact that it fell to a (soon-to-be-ex) supervillain to fill in that gap is appalling. A scathing indictment of the local budget at the absolute least, among other things.

People are beginning to wave to Megamind when they see him. Usually from a distance, and he does still get people who cross the street when they realize he's walking towards them—but it's better than running and screaming, and it's better than attacking and throwing things, and Megamind figures it's a good start. He begins to breathe a little easier.

Can it really be this easy, he wonders.

It hits him at the strangest time.

He's in the park with Roxanne again, with little Derya in her stroller. They've just finished eating the ice cream they bought from a food truck a few minutes ago, and Megamind is cleaning the sticky from Derya's little hands and round cheeks. She accepts the wet wipes with all the fussy grace of a baby who was having fun a minute ago and has just been interrupted for the sake of such abstract concepts as cleanliness.

"Yes, yes," Megamind says, touching her face with his fingertips as he wipes at her mouth, "I know, it's no fun. You got it everywhere, mi vida, and now you must accept the consequences."

The baby makes a disgruntled noise and spits out the nook that Megamind pops into her mouth, then makes grab hands at his customary sidearm. He hesitates, then finally sighs and drops back into a crouch and draws his weapon, quickly disassembles it so he can pull out the BINKY inside and wipe it down before giving it to the baby.

"You don't have to do that," Roxanne says as Derya crows and crams the little glowing thing into her mouth, bites on it happily. Megamind reassembles his darkened gun and stows it in its holster.

"It's fine," he says. "I can reassemble it in four point three seconds. It'll be fine."

Derya smiles at him around the glowing BINKY, and Megamind smiles back and runs the tip of his finger down and taps the end of her little nose, making her giggle. And—

He blinks.

Oh, he thinks, pausing. Huh.

"You okay?"

He swallows and looks up from where he's still crouched in front of the stroller. "Yes. Yes, I just thought—oh, I—it's not just that I don't want to die," he says, staring up into Roxanne's eyes with wonder in his face. "It's—it's not just not dying; it's—I want to live."

She blinks, then reaches down and pets her hand over his head. Takes his hand to pull him groaning to his feet. "I'm so glad," she says, squeezing his fingers and smiling into his face. Megamind smiles back, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

It isn't without hardships. Most of these come in the form of lawsuits, which is expected. Wayne's team of lawyers steps up to bat and Megamind insists on fair settlements whenever possible. Several of these lawsuits are dropped shortly after the lawyers explain exactly how much Megamind has quietly been doing to compensate already for the thing he's being sued over. He isn't happy about them finding out, but Wayne insists it's for the best.

Megamind finds it shockingly simple to follow Roxanne's suggestion and leverage Metro Man's obviously impending retirement into a full pardon. He has some trouble swinging 'unconditional' into the mix, but he wasn't really expecting to succeed, there. It's enough of a relief to know the law won't be coming for him once he no longer has the protections of section 170.

(The conditions are a relief, partly. Megamind built his whole adult life around the artificial purpose of destroying Metro Man and taking over the city; the requirement that he step up to defend the city he spent more than a decade terrorizing is simply another purpose for him to follow. And the brainbots have it well in hand, leaving Megamind free to organize various patents and plans. So it's mostly a formality.)

(Mostly, though, they're a concern. Conditions can be modified, added to. Megamind does harbor some significant reservations about that. He would be handling city defense anyway; this blatant attempt to control his activities makes him nervous.)

The biggest obstacle winds up being Megamind, himself. He tries to act calm but he is somewhat jumpy about formally announcing his retirement as supervillain. When he and Wayne and Minion finally agree on a date, everything seems very real, suddenly, in a way it mostly didn't before.

"I can't do this," he tells Roxanne, desperate, a few nights before the press conference where he and Metro Man will officially step down. "I can't—I can't do this. Roxanne I don't, I don't know how to do this."

They've just returned to Evil Lair from Wayne's hideout and they're sitting on Megamind's sofa. He has his elbows on his knees and his forehead in his hands and Roxanne and Minion on either side of him.

"You've been doing just fine so far," she tells him, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his spine as Minion nods encouragement. 

"But—I'm still fighting with the mayor's office about the specific conditions of the pardon, I'm—just barely able to walk on the street alone outside without panicking when I get home—I can't," he says. He shakes his head wildly and looks at her with one green eye and the other glinting silver off its aperture. "It's—this isn't going to work! I'm going to get up in front of that podium tomorrow and—and either I'm going to open fire or they're going to arrest me! and if I'm not protected as a supervillain, there's nothing to, nothing to keep them from—they'll, they'll—I'm—never going to see daylight again! I'm—"

"Sir," Minion says. 

"—but! But I can just keep doing what I've been doing! I can go back, I still have Jawbreaker and once I iron out the kinks—"

"No," Roxanne says flatly. "Absolutely not. One hundred times no."

"Sir, you will be fine," says Minion, on his other side. "The pardon will work out, you'll see!"

"How do you know?" Megamind demands, turning to glare up at him with desperation in his face. "Minion, you don't know."

"I do too," Minion says, serene. "I outsourced it to a higher power."

Megamind stops, then wrinkles his forehead and stares at him. "Wh—is this your way of telling me you've found Jesus? Are you going to the mosque with Salim? I know you didn't go to a synagogue yesterday."

Minion blinks, then gives a bubbly, fishy snort. "What? No, I told the hero to take care of it. He was whining at me again about feeling bad about all this, so I suggested some ways he could make it up to you."

Megamind groans. "He doesn't have to feel bad," he begins, but Minion cuts him off.

"He mutilated your arm so badly we had to amputate it," he says flatly. "I think he can stand to feel a little bad about that."

Megamind swallows. He doesn't reply, but he does take Roxanne's hand and pull her arm over his shoulders. She smiles and squeezes him, then cups his jaw and gently turns his head so he looks at her. He doesn't even pretend to resist, just follows where she guides him. 

"Don't talk yourself out of it," she tells him, her arm around his thin back, his sharp chin in her hand. "Your discomfort matters."

"That's my line," he mumbles, flushing, and she kisses him gently.

"You're not alone," she says, when she pulls away. "It's okay to be scared, but you aren't alone. You have Minion. You have me and Rose and Salim. You have Wayne. We can do it. Just get through today, and tomorrow we'll tackle tomorrow. Okay?"

He nods, takes a deep breath. "Okay."

"It's so much easier, having you with us," Minion tells her later, very quietly. He's sorting laundry after declining Roxanne's offer to help; she's sitting on the dryer and keeping him company. "So much easier. He listens to you."

"He listens to you, too," Roxanne says, because he does. But Minion shakes his head. 

"Not the same way. He listens to me because he has to, because I'm right and he knows I'm right. But he wants to listen to you." He sends her a tired smile. "And you know how to tell him good things. I'm...a little too jaded to believe it when I try. He knows that, too."

Roxanne smiles a little. "Jaded or anxious?"

Minion shrugs. "It comes to the same thing in the end, I think. Here, you can help me with this sheet." 

She sits up and takes the corners Minion passes her, and the two of them make quick work of folding the faded black fabric, soft with age and washings. 

"And the fitted one," Minion says.

Roxanne doesn't groan at this, but she does say, "You fold the fitted ones? God, I just roll them into a ball. They're..." 

She stops, blinking down at the turned corners. The only elastic present in this sheet are strips right at the corners where they tuck under the bed. The edges of the sheet are all straight and neatly hemmed, if somewhat worn.

"Like this," Minion says, showing her how to use her hands to nest the corners together and then pinch and flip to make an even rectangle. "And then hold it taut and fold...and fold again. Thank you, these are always easier with two people."

Roxanne blinks at the folded square he's just put on the stack of linens for the brainbots to put away. "Minion, that's genius," she says. "It's so neat! Did you make that yourself?"

He smiles, nodding. "Oh, yes. Sir can't handle certain fabrics if he's been swimming at all recently, they're terribly itchy for him, so I just go ahead and make sure everything is shipshape. It wasn't really a concern while he was wearing that watch, of course, but...well. I've kept up the habit. And even good storebought sheets are irritating for me when it comes to the fitted ones, so..." He shrugs again. "Much better sense for me to just fix the design. Oh! Speaking of which!" He straightens suddenly, brightening. Literally, glowing brighter as his expression goes genuinely sunny. "I have something for you!"

"You...?"

"Wait here! I'll be right back!"

And Minion bustles off, sharp metal footsteps fading out as he hurries away.

Mystified, Roxanne waits. She isn't bored, she has plenty to look at and think about. Minion’s laundry space, like his little hydroponic herb garden near the sofa where Megamind sometimes sleeps, is simply a sectioned-off part of Main Storage. It's somewhat exposed, comparatively, but that means Minion has room to spread out a bit and hang clothes to dry on an array of lines and poles. 

Roxanne looks up at the lair's shadowy ceiling, smiling a little bit at its collection of various derelict atom bomb casings with teeth cut out of them, living brainbots zipping to and fro and hither and yon around and between them. For years, she had thought the brainbots moved at random, or according to distinct protocols. That they did as they wanted or thought they should. But now that she's spending more time with them, around them, she's beginning to be able to see patterns to their movements and behaviors. Certain makes—"runs," as Megamind says—seem to gravitate towards certain types of tasks. The most obvious are, of course, the amphibious bots that maintain Evil Lair's dual reactor power systems and external lakeside architecture. And the reef pool. Less obvious are the bots Megamind refers to with fondness as his dustbusters: they keep the lair's non-living spaces clear of dirt and dust that could gum up the building's ventilation and air cooling systems or hurt other bots and machines before their neuromorphic and biomechanical pieces are sealed. Dustbuster bots are from multiple runs, but their joints are reinforced with rubber and latex and caulk to make sure they're protected. 

Some bots have heftier thrusters, allowing them to more easily lift and carry. Some have built-in welding arrays. Some are fast. A crew of darters tends to keep close to Megamind in case a brainstorm hits and he needs a spontaneous idea cloud set up. 

Roxanne has only seen this happen once, but she can't wait to see it again. Megamind had been in an odd mood all day and Roxanne had suggested they go swimming. They were walking past the control room for the muon reactor when Roxanne had said something about Pando, the trembling giant aspen...and Megamind snapped abruptly upright and then spun away from her, reaching for the pens two brainbots were already swooping down to hand him as two more came to hover close with boards to support the scraps of paper the rest of the crew were spiraling in with. 

He had turned and circled, pacing with his vision distant and his eyes wide, muttering and trilling under his breath, scribbling notes on colored squares and rectangles and torn scraps of paper as other brainbots hung chains and strings from the ceiling around him. They whisked the notes away as quickly has he wrote them, clipping the notes to lines at different heights and angles. There were no pauses: each time Megamind turned, a darter was ready to meet him. The effect from Roxanne's perspective was that Megamind all but disappeared into a whirlwind of very fast brainbots spiraling upwards to clip plans and notes in a rapidly-growing three-dimensional collage over his head as he paced around and moved his hands through the barking cloud. 

She had just enough time to realize the colors and shapes of paper were coming in predictable sequences when Megamind's urgent expression changed to one of intense focus. He whirled around and jumped, then simply ran up into the air as if he was on solid ground, with brainbots coming to meet his feet as he sprinted upwards to circle and study the expanding cloud. And his sure footing wasn't because the brainbots already knew where he was going—Roxanne watched him dodge and think better of where he wanted to go more than once. His darters caught him every time he jumped in an unexpected direction. They were wholly oriented on his movements, meeting his steps and meeting his hands with more papers and supporting boards. Megamind hissed and twitterclicked at them and scanned the cloud with his eyes from as many angles as possible as he rushed through the air around the perimeter of the cloud, and his bots caught him at every turn.

Finally he jumped clear. He hit the floor in a somersault, rolling to his feet and backing away to get some distance with his hands out still, brainbots still following, circling him as he stared up at the swinging lines of plans with huge excited eyes and a breathless smile, his chest heaving. 

He kept his eyes on the cloud and his hands still scribbling the occasional note as he moved sideways back to Roxanne, who was staring at him. She hadn’t seen Megamind's face light up like that in...a lot longer than she had even realized. He was panting and limping a little, but his shoulders had relaxed and his eyes were bright with interest, the lines of his throat and wrists were soft when he finally nodded and dropped his hands. The circling brainbots lifted, dispersed.

His cloud of notes twisted and turned in the breeze of the lair's ventilation systems above them as Roxanne shook herself and swallowed, summoned words. "What...was that?"

"Hmm? Oh! It's! A building!" He looked wildly excited about this. "A museum, specifically. The history of metavigilante activities in Metroooo City! Heroes and villains through the ages! And it will pioneer the first of the solar trees I've been thinking of, it'll be the scaffold! The trunk, the heartwood! Look, look at this—over here, follow! I'll show you! Oh—" He stopped suddenly and blinked at her. "But you wanted to swim?"

"Are you kidding? We can swim later, I want to know what a solar tree is!" And I want to see you ride this wave of inspiration into shore. And Megamind's smile blazed at her as he grabbed her hand and tugged her to follow him to one of the chalkboards the brainbots were wheeling over. 

They'd had a nice time. Watching him plan when he was actually inspired was incredible. He just lit up, bouncing around and periodically shaking his hands out as he tried to write fast enough to keep up with his thoughts. Roxanne had sat with him afterwards on the steps of the reef pool, and taken his organic hand in both of hers and rubbed the heel of it with her thumbs so it wouldn't get too stiff. 

She smiles up at the brainbots, remembering, then looks around at the sound of Minion’s approaching footsteps.

"Here!" he exclaims, bustling in from between a pair of derelict lightning sheep. He's carrying a large basket and a small stool. "I had an idea the other day that just wouldn't leave me alone. I think I've got the measurements right but I want to make sure before I finish the underlining, do you mind?"

"What?" Roxanne laughs as she hops down from the washing machine and steps onto the stool. "Minion, what did you do?"

"What I do best," he says happily. "I found a pattern and fixed it. Now hold still..."

The press conference is at one PM.

Metro Man drifts a few inches off the ground, as he always does. Megamind stands stiffly beside him, his back straight. Minion is on his other side, out under the sky as he so rarely is. He's not happy about it, but he agreed: this is something he and Megamind need do together.

Roxanne is in the crowd as support, in the dress Minion made for her. It's sky-blue and made of the same stuff as Megamind's capes, and it's fluttery and dainty, it moves like bias-cut silk and breathes like linen and she is in love with it. 

"As many of you have noticed," Metro Man says, "Megamind and I have been seriously scaling back our activities, recently. And, as many of you have speculated might be in the works, today we are announcing our mutual retirement."

This is pretty much expected, but a murmur runs through the crowd. Someone yells, "You can't just abandon us!"

Wayne takes a deep breath. "Look," he says, and ohhh it isn't going to be pretty if Wayne engages with his critics. He does his best, but he has no idea how to handle criticism without locking up or caving. Roxanne tenses. 

But she needn't have worried. "He can, in fact," Megamind says loudly. He waves a hand at Wayne, a sort of take it easy, I'll handle this gesture. "But he isn't. He's turning you over to me. You've noticed the brainbots filling in for Metro Man when he's off the clock; we're rolling out that functionality twenty-four seven, going forward." He takes a deep breath. "My hope," he says, as scores upon scores of eerily silent brainbots rise like a shimmering wave behind City Hall, "is that you, the…kind and generous citizens of Metrocity…will be kind enough and generous enough to leave us alone."

He turns off his watch. Another shocked murmur ripples out over the plaza. Roxanne bites her lips together and hugs her elbows, feeling eyes turn to her as well. This is the part none of them were sure of, public-response-wise.

"Because if we continue," Megamind continues, voice steady, "one of these days, one of us isn't going to walk away from a battle. And you think you know which one of us that will be," he adds, "but you really, really don't. I don't want to kill you," he says, glancing up at his counterpart, "but I'm…tired. And I don't want to die."

"I'd prefer not to die, either," Wayne agrees. "There's a lot of weird cheeses out there I haven't tried, yet. And you've been sitting on a surefire way to put me down for…what, four years, now?"

"Longer than that," Megamind says dryly. He turns his head so the metal plate at his temple catches the light, knowing the cameras will have zoomed in on his face at this point. "But, yes. And I don't know how much longer I can believably drag this out without fully destroying you. So, our hope," he says addressing the crowd again, "is to set a precedent, here, today. Offer a way out to other people like us, who might be looking for one."

"And we have time for a few questions," Wayne says, as usual, and the press down front surges forward.

"Metro Man, are you concerned about the suicide rate of ex-heroes?" asks a blonde woman, holding a notepad at the ready. "Some might say you need us as much as we need you; what are your thoughts?"

Wayne takes a deep breath. "A lot of those heroes were forced out of the business in some way or another," he says. "I'm doing this by choice, and I'm pretty certain about it. It's not gonna be easy but I'm hoping doing this on my terms makes a difference. But I've also got, uh, a really good therapist. I'm learning to set boundaries. And identify, uh, manipulative codependent nonsense like that line about me needing you. And I've got a pretty solid support system, too. Friends," he says, glancing down at Megamind, "in unexpected places."

She turns to Megamind and opens her mouth, but he cuts her off. "I'm a survivor, I think that's obvious," he says flatly. "I've lost an eye, an arm, a few vertebrae. Half a lung. Most of my secondary respiratory system on my left side. If I wasn't semi-cartilaginous I would definitely be dead, and I didn't go to the trouble and pain of rebuilding all that just to off myself because of some midlife crisis; thanks, Nancy."

"And, Metro Man," says a man in a garish bow tie, when Wayne points to him, "could you address the allegations that your ex-girlfriend of seven years is having an affair with your arch-nemesis."

Wayne blinks a few times. "An affair!" he exclaims, mock-shocked. "Wow, and here I thought it was only an affair if we were like…married! Yeah, they're cute together, got a great thing going. I'm happy for them, truly."

"Building on John's question," says yet another reporter, "Megamind, to the possibility of Stockholm Syndrome being a factor in this relationship, you would say...?"

He snorts. "I would say if you think Roxanne isn't willing and able to serve me my ass on a plate when I get too full of myself, you haven't been watching the news. Yes, you in the back."

"What's next? You've been pardoned, you're outsourcing city defense to your drone army. What's your five-year plan?"

Megamind grins. "Affordable prosthetics," he says. "And other assistive devices. And then I'm thinking global warming might be a fun challenge to tackle."

"And how do you plan to make that work?"

"That would be telling," he says with a wink. "I've still got a few tricks up my leather sleeve. Nancy, you have something else?" She's been all but bouncing, and Megamind is not above playing favorites.

"Thank you," she says, and—then she pauses as a man in a suit ducks in and slips her a piece of paper. He murmurs something, ducks away. She nods. "Yes, just one more thing," she says, and glances down at the paper—

—and freezes with her mouth already open to ask.

Megamind cocks his head. "Yes?"

"Ahh," she says, glancing from the paper up to his face and back down again. "Yes. Um." She hesitates, stammers for a moment. "I don't think this is—"

"Oh, just ask it," he sighs. "We both know it will be all kinds of drama and speculation if you don't."

She swallows. "Now that you're so newly approachable," she says, her face pale and unsmiling, "do you have—plans for—how would you address a potential retrieval attempt by the—um, the—research team that—examined you, as a child?"

Megamind's face goes absolutely blank and Roxanne's blood runs cold. 

"Examined," Megamind says, soft and dangerous. "Is that what they're calling it."

Nancy shakes her head very slightly. Swallows. Megamind grits his teeth, inhales slowly through his nose.

("Smoke bombs fully loaded in the perimeter cannons; will fire when ready, Sir," Minion says quietly.)

("You're okay," Wayne murmurs. "Say whatever you gotta, we're right behind you.")

"Hmmm," Megamind says. "Yes. Well. Good, I'm—glad you asked that." He raises his voice. "I'll take this opportunity," he says, "to preemptively remind…interested parties that I know exactly who they are and that I keep extremely close tabs on them and their loved ones in, say, Ashland, Virginia between Henry Clay Elementary School and the Trackside Bar, and in Baynard Village in Wilmington, Delaware. And just off the Capitol Beltway, north of Lake Accotink. As a few random, nonspecific examples. And I would preemptively remind them," he continues, "that I did not become a supervillain by issuing bluffs and empty threats. If they want to attempt to retrieve me, they are of course welcome to try, but they will not have much left to go home to at the end of the day. I'm stepping down, not rolling over." He pauses, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "And I'll be needing your source on that question," he says softly. Nancy nods. Roxanne is going to need to get in touch with her very soon. 

"Aaaand that about wraps us up for today, I think," Wayne says loudly, and Megamind's shoulders visibly slump. "Hey, thank you all for coming out. We'll be seeing you around, Metro City!"

"I'm not going out for dinner," Megamind says flatly, as soon as they get out of the way of the crowd. That had been the original plan, dinner to commemorate the occasion, but— "We can celebrate another night. I need to get back to Evil Lair."

Wayne nods. "Absolutely, totally," he says. "Yeah, that last question was…oof. You okay? Need to talk?"

"Not to you. I just—I need—" He fidgets, jumpy, his gaze darting too quickly around the area they've claimed backstage. 

"Okay, listen to me," Wayne says, landing with a soft thud that makes Megamind flinch. He drops into a crouch regardless and carefully grips the smaller alien by the upper arms. "If anyone," he says, "comes and takes you away, if you disappear, I will find you. No matter where you are. And I will get you the hell out of whatever the hell kind of bunker they've got you in. I promise. I swear to you."

Megamind nods, swallows, breathes.

"Megamind!" Roxanne is all but running across the pavement to them, slipping through the crowd with practiced grace and the occasional well-placed elbow. She doesn't slow down, taking the steps up to the stage two at a time; Wayne lets go of Megamind with one hand and turns him with the other. Roxanne runs full tilt into her boyfriend and wraps him in the tightest hug she can. "Megamind, oh my god, are you okay?"

He puts his arms around her and huddles close, trying to think of words.

Roxanne doesn't relax her arms even a little bit. "Are you okay?" she asks again after a moment, hearing the note of desperation in her own voice. 

Megamind stirs.

"They. put. a bomb inside me. last time," he mumbles into her shoulder. His hands are wrapped into fists against her back. "Leverage. To control me, later. I had to rip it out myself. My uncles helped. If—and it wasn't rigged to go off if I touched it because—they, they didn't realize I knew about it. What it was. And, and—where. Where it was. They didn't realize I could—hear them. Talking."

Roxanne feels as though the world has been yanked from under her feet. Over Megamind's shoulder, she catches Wayne's eye; his mouth is hanging open and his face is pale and shocked.

"Holy fuck," he says, recovering. "So! Different idea! What if my parents adopt you and Minion? As, as a formality. Get you protected that way? Just to cover all your bases?"

Megamind looks up, eyes still frighteningly blank, and turns. "Do you think they would?"

"If I tell them to. Yes, definitely." He straightens and puts a hand on Megamind's back, over Roxanne's arms. "Is that something you want?"

Is it...

Megamind heaves a breath in and tries to steady himself. He's okay. He's. Okay. Roxanne is here and Wayne is his friend now and he's okay. 

"Um," he says, blinking and frowning as the world returns a little. "Maybe. Let me…think. And talk to Minion."

Wayne nods. "Absolutely. You just say the word, okay? No pressure either way."

Megamind nods back and then turns away, presses his face to Roxanne's neck again. Feels her arms lock tight around his body, her pulse against his high cheekbone. And he feels…

Not safe, never safe. But he feels loved. And held. Protected.

"Thank you," he adds, belatedly.

"Yeah, of course!" Wayne exclaims. "Oh, totally. Here, lemme give you three a lift back to Evil Lair? Yeah? Minion, hey, come back—Minion! Hey!" He drops his voice and tells Megamind and Roxanne, "Hold on a sec," and Megamind feels the air move like water as he flits away.

Roxanne strokes his back with trembling hands. "You going to be okay?" she asks quietly. "Are you holding down a panic attack, or…?"

Megamind makes a quiet noise and lifts his head. "I'm all right," he says. "I am. I'm…not actually panicking, I think." He sounds mildly surprised about this, but his eye is gleaming as he looks at Roxanne. "I'm with you," he says, scarred mouth tugging in a tense but genuine smile. "Apparently that's enough. For now."

Roxanne blinks once, then quickly kisses him before she can burst into tears at the realization that apparently her just being there is enough to keep this man from losing his shit after what sounded like an intentional attempt to make him open fire in panicked self-defense on a crowd of assembled citizens.

There's a thump like a small thunderclap as Wayne materializes at Megamind's side. "Okay! Got Minion and the car back to the lair. Aaand three-two-one hup!" And the next thing Megamind knows, he's zipping through the air at unholy speed back to his home and true safety.

Wayne holds both him and Roxanne against his body the same way: their hips in the crooks of his elbows, his hands wrapped over their legs. Megamind looks at Roxanne across the expanse of Wayne's broad chest, the gold of his tie and his cream-colored suit. She smiles at him with tears in her eyes and the wind in her hair. Megamind reaches forward and takes her hand with the air flying past swirling around his skin, and exhales. And he smiles back, hardly feeling how it pulls at his scars.

Instead of going to a restaurant, he and Roxanne go to dinner at Rose and Salim's that night. Roxanne offers again and again to stay in, tells Megamind please not to push himself if he's tired or scared, but he just smiles a tired smile and says, "I want to. I do. Want to see...friends. Your family."

Roxanne squeezes his hand. "Yours, too."

Oh. That's. So very wonderful to hear. But he just nods; he's too rattled to put very many words together. Still, he really does want to see everyone. He needs to. He can't even say why. 

And Minion agrees to come, too, which Megamind is thrilled about—Minion still doesn't leave Evil Lair, much. Not wearing his own face.

(The fact that Minion is so shy and anxious around other people is a fact that still amazes Roxanne; she mentions this again to Megamind as they're getting dressed to leave.)

("He's always seemed so gregarious to me," she exclaims. "He's so personable.")

("Well, he knows you," Megamind says, holding still while Roxanne helps tug his undersuit into place over the silicone of his prosthetic arm. He's used to doing all this himself, of course, but it really is nice to have someone else to help when he's one-handed or grappling to get the polyethylfullerene over his silicone. "He was shy with you, too, in the beginning.")

So. Megamind goes to dinner at Rose and Salim's. Minion goes to help Salim in the kitchen when they arrive, and Derya sits in Megamind's lap while he reads to her from a book with thick pages: a story about a caterpillar—oooh, Megamind has never seen a caterpillar! He'll have to see if he can find one in the spring—and he finds that Derya can help to turn pages now with her little fingers. He isn't sure if that's new or not, but he's willing to wait while she grabs at the edges of the book with her sharp little nails and help her separate pages when necessary.

He finishes the story and lowers the book, glancing around at the little row home where Roxanne's—where his? family?—lives. Roxanne and Rose are chatting on the sofa, and Minion and Salim are just visible in the kitchen, laughing as they finish getting dinner ready. And Derya is in his lap, warm and soft and smelling of baby, and Megamind's heart is suddenly so full he can hardly stand it.

He's had a hell of a week—or month—and he still feels water-loose and shaky with adrenaline from the afternoon. But he's really okay, shockingly. And he has so much, so much more now than he ever imagined he would. There's a feeling of expanding warmth in his chest like the fire on the beach with Salim's guitar in his hands and Rose's laughter in his ears and Derya asleep behind him, Roxanne's fireflies like the eyes of the night of his homeworld around him. And he thinks...

Yes. This is love. 

Derya wiggles and pushes at his hands in the way he knows means I want to get down, so he presses a kiss to the top of her head and sets her down—briefly—on his bent feet, holding her hands and swinging his legs out so she startles and giggles at the unexpected ride. And then he lets her crawl away to her toy bin to play by herself for a while.

"Megamind," Roxanne says. "Sweetheart? You okay?"

He looks over at her. He knows his smile is very wobbly, but he can't not smile and he can't make it stop wobbling, so he just rolls with it. No one here will laugh at him. "I'm very lucky," he says, heart full and throat tight. "I have—I have a good family."

She smiles and pats the sofa at her hip, and Megamind comes to sit next to her. He leans into her side and loops their arms together, takes her hand. This is another thing he's sure he's never going to get used to or tired of: cuddles. He's come in contact with Roxanne once or twice over the years, but never with the disguise generator off. And this, this skin-to-skin stuff—it's amazing. Best thing in the world. He can't believe he forgot that. He's lucky Roxanne doesn't mind how hungry he is for it.

(He worries that he lies too close at night and sits too close on the sofa. He is so afraid of smothering her. But she keeps insisting she will tell him if she feels that way or she needs him to back off, and Megamind is slowly learning to believe her. Roxanne came home from work seething with rage a couple weeks ago and Megamind went to give her a hug—because that's what you do, isn't it, when your partner is upset—but she snapped, "No don't touch me; I'm angry," and he backed off. He felt hurt, at the time, but honestly it was a relief. Such a relief to know she really will tell him to leave her alone when she needs to be left alone, to know he can reach out without fear that he's imposing without knowing it.)

For now, he settles beside her. Takes her hand. Tips his head back to rest on the back of the sofa. Closes his eyes, and hums when Roxanne brushes her lips over his temple.

Life is good. And Megamind is going to live.