Chapter Text
Roxanne has a lot on her mind, a lot to think about, and when she finally, finally manages to escape the crowds and cameras and go home, she wants nothing more than to take a hot shower and go to sleep. And not think for a while.
She can stop worrying about Hal, now, which is a relief, but she still has to try and process Metro Man's abrupt retirement. Knowing he's alive is nice, but knowing he didn't turn up even when things were actually pretty dire…that stings. What she told Bernard—no, she reminds herself for the umpteenth time since last night, no, that was Megamind, Megamind all those times—was the truth: she and Metro Man were never a couple. But that doesn't mean she never regarded him as a friend. He had been one of her closest, in fact, before he 'died.' Definitely enough of a friend that she feels more than a little bit betrayed at his leaving her out to dry, no matter how glad she is to know he's alive.
And then, of course, she still has the whole Bernard-Megamind fiasco to consider. At this point, Roxanne is well aware that the person she fell for was Megamind. But…
She shakes her head and turns around as the elevator doors close behind her. Enough, she tells herself. Enough thinking about this for one day. But of course she's still thinking about it when she reaches the seventeenth floor, and she's muttering under her breath as she slides the deadbolt home behind her.
She sheds her clothes all the way to the bathroom, then slams the sliding plexiglass shower door closed, determined not to think but seriously this time, Roxanne.
And, for the next half-hour or so (because at this point she deserves a long hot shower and her utilities bill can go piss up a rope, as far as she's concerned; electricity is fairly cheap in Metro anyway), she really doesn't. This is due more to years of conditioning than strength of will—she has never allowed herself to think about heavy problems in the shower, not since she was in school and worrying about her GPA, and over the years she's kept up the habit. Water goes on, worries go off: full stop, end of story.
But when she gets out of the shower and into her pajamas and bathrobe, all her problems come rushing back. She's exhausted, but the last thing she wants to do is sleep. She's pretty sure she wouldn't be able to, anyway, even if she tried. Her mind is still flying at full tilt; she is still on edge and jittery, her nerves jangling and her knees weak.
"Damn you, adrenaline," she mutters, and picks up her clothes and then wanders off to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of coffee and retrieve the book she left on the counter that morning. Then she comes back to her living room and turns on the news, hoping for something mindless and droning so she'll be able to focus on her book.
She should have known better, really.
Usually the news makes for decent background noise, because very little is news to Roxanne, but despite her best efforts she can't tune it out tonight. They keep rolling footage of 'Metro Man' fighting Hal, and Megamind fighting Hal, and Megamind getting tossed around and shot at and stepped on and punched and slammed into a concrete wall hard enough to leave a spiderweb of cracks behind and good god, do they have to keep showing that?
Because even as confused as she is about him, the sick-churning please, no feeling in her stomach when she saw him impaled by the Metro Tower spire is something she never wants to feel again. As she watches the film clips repeat, the footage from cell phones and cheap video cameras mostly blurry and out-of-focus, she sees again just how close a thing it all was. It was luck, really, pure blind luck and stubbornness that they won at all.
She tries to remind herself that she's still mad about Bernard, but a moment later she finally has to admit it isn't quite as true now as it was earlier. She's still upset, certainly, and confused and hurt, but anger is no longer at the forefront.
There were a few times when she was kidnapped that scared her, but those were ages ago. They were all back in the beginning, before she'd come to know the villain.
As much as anyone can claim to know Megamind. He was generally secretive and prickly and as off-putting as he could manage to be, in those early days, but the fact that he never intended to harm her became obvious pretty quickly. Hurting Roxanne would have been pointless, and…he honestly seemed to enjoy their encounters.
And really: anyone Minion likes must have some good qualities, right?
Roxanne had never questioned Megamind's own assertion that he was evil, or pushed too much about the career supervillain's motivations beyond furthering his schemes. Not openly, at least. She had definitely wondered, but…he hadn't given her many reasons to really dig deep. Silly antics and shameless flirting and the occasional chatty mood notwithstanding, he mostly kept his guard up. Kept his guard up and offered more than enough newsworthy material to keep everyone satisfied—and most importantly, refused to speak in the presence of any reporter who wasn't Roxanne, and then only during kidnappings. And he'd told her flat-out, once, early on: he doesn't like questions.
No sense prying into the man's personal life when she has a reasonably solid rapport with him already. No sense risking it. He wasn't the only one who occasionally enjoyed their encounters, inconvenient and aggravating though they were at times.
Did you really think that I would ever be with you? She mutes the television, tips her head back against the sofa, and closes her eyes, considers this.
Last night, she was furious. Furious and scared, and that was the unsettling part, really. Megamind hadn't been frightening in ages. Weird, yes; diabolical, yes; evil…sure, okay. Never actually scary, not for years. But knowing he spent so much time twisting her mind in his favor, and she fell for it—that was horrifying. She never expected him to be able to toy with her so easily, wouldn't have pegged him as the type. Heck, she hadn't expected him to have that kind of attention span.
Looking back, though, she's pretty sure she knows what happened. Megamind truly doesn't have the drive necessary for that kind of long game. Looking back…the whole thing started off as a way to get her out of his Lair. And then she brought the whole 'partner' thing up, surprised him with that, and she knows from experience that Megamind tends to short-circuit when he's surprised. He went along with her, initially, and from there things had progressed into something else. Roxanne isn't sure what, anymore, but the way he'd looked at her…
The way he had talked to her, from the safety of his human mask. Let her investigate him—helped her do it! And the way she'd talked to him. The way he had listened, and laughed, and made her laugh.
And even with the mask off, it's not like he's unattractive. Not at all. He's physically stunning, honestly: fine-boned and wiry, bright smile, high cheekbones. Well-groomed. Fastidious.
And of course he is also dazzlingly brilliant, which…is attractive, too; Roxanne's always gone in for that. And he's never talked down to her, even though he definitely could if he wanted to.
Okay. Yes. Yes, as far as potential partners go, she could do a lot worse than Megamind. And she isn't sure she could do better than him, even if she wanted to—does she want to?
She doesn't think so, and that's…about as unsettling as Bernard turning into a space alien in the middle of a restaurant, to say the least.
She sighs. No sleep tonight, she thinks, and then jumps about a mile when her buzzer sounds.
She's running on autopilot and answering the door is reflex, so she's already in the process of undoing the deadbolt when she realizes it's half-past two in the morning, and who the hell would be calling on her at this hour of the night? She presses her eye to the peephole.
Minion? What the—?
She opens the door. And then she sees what Minion is holding, and her stomach turns over again and she's amazed to find that she can actually speak words, real words, because her mind has gone totally blank.
"Minion, what happened?"
He blinks down at her. "I'm sorry it's so late, Miss Ritchi, I really am. I didn't know where else to take him after today."
Roxanne just holds the door open as wide as she can for him. She isn't sure how to answer that one—she isn't even sure if she can, because this, this is the cherry on top of the sundae of disaster that has been her week so far.
In Minion's arms, Megamind is very pale, and very, very unconscious.
"I don't understand," she manages, staring first at Megamind and then up at Minion's unhappy little face. "What…he was fine earlier, what on Earth happened to him?" He looks like he's been hit by a bus, she thinks, and has to resist the hysterical urge to laugh.
"Titan happened," says Minion, and then, seeing her expression, sighs a little. "A side effect of the dehydration process is that it takes your nerves a little longer than the rest of you to rehydrate. The less time spent dehydrated, the longer your nerves are out of commission."
Roxanne shakes her head a little. Another time this would have made total sense, but it's two in the morning and after the day she's just had, she's feeling a little slow on the uptake.
"He seemed fine earlier because he couldn't feel any pain," Minion explains. "But rehydration is…well, it's hard on your cells on a good day, and after what Titan did…his body's beginning to shut down."
Her jaw drops. "He's dying?"
"No!" Minion's voice is a startled yelp. "No, not dying—it would take more than that to kill him. Probably."
Roxanne is nodding frantically, latching onto that piece of information. "Yes, all right, of course, I mean I've seen him stand up to Metro Man and he was always okay after that, so…"
Minion gulps a little. "Miss Ritchi, Metro Man only ever tried to hurt him."
This is true. Metro Man was never shooting to kill. There's a long, awkward pause.
"I can't keep him in Evil Lair. People were already starting to turn up looking for it and it's the middle of the night. I've been out of it all day, and I didn't realize…I didn't think…" Minion's voice is getting higher by the second, which pulls Roxanne back to reality somewhat. The facts: Megamind is hurt, and maybe Minion is too. She shoves her rattling nerves to the back of her mind and takes charge.
"Is there a doctor who can treat him?"
Minion hesitates. "I don't…I don't know. There's a doctor at the prison, but I don't know what Sir's legal status is right now and I don't know how long it'll be before he can break out, and they always separate us when they catch both of us, and—"
Okay. So, no doctors.
"You both can stay here, then. Come with me."
Minion shakes his head, but Roxanne is already heading towards the closet where she keeps future Christmas gifts. "I only came to ask if you knew a good hiding place. People know where you live."
Roxanne's apartment is a mess of old newspapers and magazines, but she knows where everything is and she doesn't have to search for what she wants. "Yes, and if anybody tries to break in here, I'll have a team of rabid lawyers on them so fast it'll break the sound barrier." She pulls down a flat box she had intended to give her brother. "He'll be perfectly safe here until he recovers."
"That's kind of you, Miss Ritchi, but I really don't think…"
She turns. "Minion."
"What?"
She holds out the box. "Get him into these and out of that suit. It's too tight, he needs to be able to breathe easier. Is he clean?"
"Yes, the detox—"
"Good. Call me when you're done." She disappears into the bedroom and hurriedly changes her sheets. She switched them just last week, but who knows what Megamind's immune system is like when he's in this state. Better not risk it. And she needs to do something to keep from thinking about how he picked her up and swung her around this afternoon, laughing.
"Miss Ritchi! Help?"
She's back in the living room in record time. Megamind's leathers, spandex undersuit, boots, and gloves are in a pile on the floor, and the blue alien on her sofa is now clad in a set of grey silk pajamas that are miles too big for him. Mostly clad. His shirt front is still open.
"It's the buttons," Minion says miserably, "this is my spare body and it's bigger than the other one and I can't get the hang of these buttons."
Roxanne waves his hands away and does up the buttons as quickly as she can, trying not to see the dark bruises purpling under Megamind's blue skin. In all the years she's watched him battle Metro Man, all the times she's seen him get hit, she's almost never seen Megamind actually show signs of injury. Metro Man must have been pulling his punches.
She straightens, ignoring the tightness in her throat, and heads back towards her room. "In here."
Minion hesitates. "Are—are you sure? He's small, he's stayed on couches before, and I really do hate to impose."
Roxanne chokes back another shrill laugh. I'm hysterical, she thinks wonderingly. I haven't been hysterical in ages.
"Minion, do you want him on a sofa? Like that?"
"But—it's your bed! I don't want you to have to—" He stops talking when he sees the way she's glaring at him. "Okay. Thank you."
He puts his charge down on Roxanne's bed where she's turned the covers back, slowly arranges his arms by his sides. Then, one hand under Megamind's long neck, he glances around. "Do you have…um, a small pillow? Or something similar?"
Roxanne does not, but she thinks she knows what he has in mind and she thinks of something that might work. Something ridiculous and childish in her won't let go of the notion that it might also be lucky, so she hunts under the bed for the box she wants until she finds her prize. "Will this work?"
Minion looks at the stuffed dog Roxanne is holding. Its fur is flattened around the middle and it's squished from years of hugging, one button eye is missing and the other is loose. It is ragged and patched, half its lopsided face doesn't match, and stuffing pokes out of a small hole under one of its arms.
But, "Thanks," says Minion, and he takes Mars and slips him under Megamind's neck, then pulls the sheet and comforter up over his chest, never mind that it's summer and the air conditioning in Roxanne's building shorted out earlier in the week.
Throughout all of this, Megamind doesn't move; his shallow, unsteady breathing does not change.
"Won't he overheat?"
Minion looks at her curiously. "Exactly how much body fat do you think he has?"
She shakes her head. "Right. Of course," she says, and follows Minion out of the room, turning out the lights as she leaves.
After a long while, Megamind's shallow breathing evens out, then deepens.