Fic: Rain on the Just (10/?)
Oct. 10th, 2011 01:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sharelleTitle: Rain on the Just (10/?)
Author: Rummi (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sharelle)
Characters / Pairing: Ensemble / Megamind/Roxanne
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Badness. (And not the good-for-bad kind.) I'm sorry!
Word Count: 6,504
Summary: A former villain and a former hero each try to adapt to the new destinies they've chosen. It's not always easy . . . especially when a new danger threatens to blow everything apart.
Previous chapters can be found here. (Or at FF.Net.)
Author's Notes: I'm still not 100% sure how many chapter breaks I'll have between here and the end, which is why I've still got that silly question mark as my end point. However, the final segments are coming together. (Not as quickly as I'd like, but, given the start of the new academic year, it's probably about as quickly as I can expect.) I do hope this offering is enjoyed, and I'll do my absolute best to continue as soon as possible!
Many thanks to everyone who has been so supportive of this story. It's been a long time since I've enjoyed writing a fic this much, and it has a great deal to do with you!
And, of course, huge thanks, as always, toray_wing - a lovely beta, a supportive sounding board, and a tremendous help!
Rain on the Just
by Rummi
Chapter 10 - Cold and Warm, Dark and Light
Roxanne's workday had been interminable so far, and it was only half over. But at least, by the time she reached her afternoon break, she knew she only had a few more hours left to go.
Just a few hours to wait until Megamind's big evening plans - whatever those might be.
She caught herself blatantly grinning as she walked down Main Street. It felt a little silly but she couldn't help it. She gave in to it and permitted herself a moment of unabashed giddiness as she reached the Café Beanery and nudged the door open with her hip. She listened to the pleasant little tinkle of the wind chimes on the door as she rooted through her purse for her wallet.
On impulse, she glanced over to her usual table. She hadn't seen Wayne in several days - not since the day of the Metro Tower bombing - and she didn't like the way they had left things after their last conversation. She had hoped for the opportunity to offer him a real apology.
Roxanne froze just inside the entranceway.
Today, it seemed, was her lucky day - in more ways than one.
He was there. Finally back. Sitting at the table with a small smile on his face. Roxanne grinned and shook her head slightly. He also had two coffees waiting in front of him. She abandoned her search for her wallet, dropped her purse back over her shoulder, and walked toward him. She stopped beside the table and offered him a soft smile.
Before she could greet him further, Wayne held one of the cups toward her. "Flavored creamer, no extra sugar," he said.
Roxanne accepted the cup and felt her hands warm against it. "I was beginning to wonder if I drove you away," she replied, still smiling softly. "I had hoped not." She pulled the chair across from him out and settled down onto it. "Look, Wayne, about last time: I know I was probably out of line-"
"Please," he interrupted, raising a hand to stop her. "I came here to apologize. Think of the coffee as a peace offering. I also have a favor to ask."
Roxanne blinked at him. "Wayne," she said, "you don't have anything to-"
"Yes, I do," he gently interrupted her again. "I really do." He stared down at his drink for a moment and rolled the cup lightly back and forth between his hands. When he looked up at Roxanne again she noticed something off about his expression. He actually seemed . . . nervous.
"Roxanne," he finally began, "we're . . . friends, right?"
She looked at him as though she couldn't believe he would ask that. "Of course we are," she said.
Wayne nodded tensely. "That's good," he said. "That's really good. I'm glad." He shifted awkwardly in his chair and paused.
Roxanne waited. She desperately wanted to say something encouraging, but she didn't want to muscle in on whatever he was struggling with.
Finally Wayne released a miniature explosion of air from his mouth, followed by what sounded like the mockery of a laugh. He shook his head. "You know, this only goes to prove how much better I was with having fans than friends," he muttered off-handedly. At last, he met Roxanne's eyes again. "I guess I should apologize for that in advance too; I'm not really good at this."
Roxanne smiled at him sympathetically. "It's all right," she said.
"Okay," he continued. He said it as though he was prepping for a big announcement. Then he squared his shoulders and looked her full in the face. "Look, I know I've been dodging your suggestions that I see Megamind," he said. "I bet that's been frustrating. But I've actually had a reason for it."
Roxanne leaned slightly toward him against the table. "Oh?"
"Yeah," he answered. "It's kind of a stupid reason, but it's a reason. The fact is, Roxanne, I don't want to see Megamind. At all."
Roxanne sat back again. It was her turn to shift awkwardly in her chair. "Oh."
"That sounds awful, right?" he asked. A guilty, humorless smirk tugged at a corner of his lips. "I leave you both in the lurch last year, and then basically refuse to even speak to the guy now?" Wayne shook his head and cast his eyes down toward the table. "But it's like I said a few days ago: it's not really about him." He looked back up at her. "It's me, Roxanne. I'm . . ." He swallowed. "Believe it or not, just the idea of talking to him . . . well, let's just say it scares me a little."
For a moment, she could only blink at him in surprise. Roxanne replayed what he had just said to her several times in her mind before it finally, completely registered. When it did, she leaned toward him again, gazing at his face with concern. "But, Wayne-"
"I know," he said. "I know how that sounds. But I don't want to talk to Megamind because the thought of seeing him now . . . like this . . . when, let's face it, he has everything and I have nothing . . ." Wayne tugged on the lapels of his trenchcoat as if to illustrate his point, then let his hands drop back to the table. "Honestly? It's not a very appealing idea."
Roxanne reached forward with both hands, covering his very large ones as he held onto his coffee cup. It hadn't been that difficult to sniff out his apprehension when it came to the people of Metro City discovering his secret, but she'd had no idea he had felt this way about talking to Megamind. After all, Megamind already knew that Metro Man was alive. And since there were so few people who did, Roxanne had only assumed that Wayne would eventually welcome their company.
Superhero solidarity, after all.
The fact that Wayne had been purposely isolating himself . . . Roxanne just couldn't understand it.
But it didn't have to be that way.
"I'm sorry, I had no idea," she said gently. "I guess I was being really pushy then, huh?" She inched closer to him, perching on the very edge of her seat. "But, Wayne, if you're worried about him rejecting you, please don't. I know there's a part of him that has always admired you - even when you two were fighting. I mean, you were his one worthy adversary, right? And no one says you have to become best buddies right off the bat - things like that take time. But I know he would at least be receptive to talking with you. I know it."
Wayne gave her a sad smile and chuckled self-depreciatingly. "You know, in a way that's almost worse than a rejection," he said.
Roxanne's brow knitted in concerned confusion. "What do you mean?"
Wayne sighed. "I don't know how much he's told you about all the details of our history," he said. "If he hasn't, it's not really my place to tell you his part of it, but let's just say he didn't have the easiest time of things when we were kids. He wasn't made to feel very . . . welcome." Wayne shifted again. "And . . . I probably had something to do with that."
Roxanne's heart twisted. She had known at least part of that.
. . . None of the other kids really liked me . . .
Megamind had, indeed, mentioned some of the rather painful details about his past to her - the fact that he had been excluded, even bullied, as a child. It had taken some gentle coaxing on her part, but having him open up about some of the most difficult aspects of his past was certainly a testament to how much he had come to trust her. He hadn't gotten into many detailed specifics regarding Wayne's role in all that (though constantly referring to him as Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes certainly offered a hint), but to hear Wayne allude to having a hand in Megamind's early painful memories added a rather telling layer to their relationship.
"I probably could have made things easier for him," Wayne continued. "But I . . . I guess I didn't. In my defense, I was really young when we first met, but . . ." He shook his head. "I'd known I wanted to be a hero, even then. But a hero - a real one - would have probably stood up for him." Wayne glanced back down into his coffee cup. "If I go to him now, and he actually lets bygones be bygones . . ." He shrugged. "What does that say about who's the better man?"
Wayne shook his head and chuckled ruefully down at the table. "He didn't even tell anyone that I wasn't really dead this past year. He kept my secret," he muttered softly. "We fought for years, but he still kept it. He didn't have to." He stared past Roxanne toward the door of the café. "Apparently, it means the guy's better at losing and at winning than I am."
Roxanne had been listening attentively, careful not to interrupt with platitudes or false assurances. She might not be privy to all the gory details of the complete Wayne Scott/Megamind history, but if what she was hearing now was true, perhaps Wayne's guilty conscience was at least a little bit deserved. Part of her wanted to reassure him, but it simply wasn't her place to tell him everything was okay.
Of course, Megamind had made his own decisions about his life, too - and he was still dealing with the consequences of those choices. But a person can only be told they're "bad" so many times before they start believing it. No doubt, both men shouldered at least some of the blame for the way their little game had escalated. It was also clear that neither one of them was very good at seeing their relationship as anything more than a competition, even now. Getting past that would undoubtedly take time.
But this wasn't about who was the better hero, and it certainly wasn't about who was the better man. As Roxanne looked across the table at Wayne, she knew there was a difference between being remorseful over one's mistakes, and completely beating oneself up.
That, Wayne didn't deserve.
She gave his hands a gentle squeeze. "Okay," she said. "I get it, Wayne. I do." She gave a small huff of laughter. "You know, you two are probably more alike than you realize. Megamind takes things harder than he really should, too." She shook her head. "I hope someday you can get through this roadblock enough to want to see him, because I really believe it would do you both a world of good."
Wayne nodded. "How does today sound?"
Roxanne's eyes shot back up to Wayne's face. Her mouth worked wordlessly for a moment, then she squinted at him in confusion. "But I thought you just said-"
"That I don't want to see him," Wayne finished the sentence for her. "That's true, I don't. But I'm going to do it anyway, Roxanne. I . . . I need to." He offered her a small, almost bashful, smile. "Because I thought about something else you had said - about finding a little bravery of my own. I may be apprehensive about talking to Megamind for a number of reasons, but I'm also tired of hiding from him. Cowards hide, and that is something I definitely don't want to be."
Roxanne couldn't stop an enormous grin from spreading across her face. This really was turning out to be a very good day.
"And that's where the favor comes in," Wayne added. "I was hoping maybe I could convince you to be there. You know, when I talk to him. It might make it easier . . . to have a friend there."
Roxanne continued to beam at him. "Of course I will!" she said. "Nothing would make me happier than seeing you boys finally bury the hatchet." She smirked and added, "In something besides each others' heads, that is!"
Wayne laughed deep in his chest. "So, today?" he prompted.
"Well, tonight he and I have . . . plans," Roxanne informed him with a subtle duck of her head. "It's sort of a special occasion. But now is good." She smirked at him again. "How is now for you?"
Wayne's eyes widened. "Now, huh?" He fidgeted a little with his coffee cup, then raised it to take a large gulp. "Maybe I should finish this first," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist.
Roxanne giggled lightly. He really did look nervous now. "A little liquid courage, Metro Man?" she teased. "You may need something stronger."
"The day I find something that's actually strong enough to work, I'll let you know," he mused wryly. Then he gave her a sincere smile. "Yeah, I think now is just fine. I know you're on your break. Will you have enough time?"
But Roxanne never got the chance to answer. At that moment, an explosion rocked the building. Startled screams erupted from the people filling the café as they ducked for cover, ceramic cups smashed upon the floor, and a blinding shower of glass burst through the room as the large storefront windows shattered inward.
* * *
Megamind was smiling as he carefully removed the flowers from the passenger seat of the invisible car. He adjusted them in his arms as he closed the door behind him with a good, firm kick.
"Minion?" he called out as he took a few steps deeper into the lair. "I'm back!" He tugged gently on the tissue paper that was wrapped around the flower stalks to smooth out any wrinkles. "I'm sorry it took so long. Who would have thought it could be so complicated to aesthetically organize an arrangement of plant life? One would think working with something that grows out of the ground would be a simple matter."
As he took a step forward, his foot met the floor with a soft, wet-sounding splish. He glanced downward, to where he appeared to be standing in a puddle. Megamind wrinkled his nose at it then looked toward the ceiling. He cocked his head a few times and squinted upward, holding out one hand to see if he could catch any telltale dripping.
"Seems we have a leak," he called out, his voice echoing through the lair. "Somewhere," he added in a grumble as he looked at the palm of his hand, which had remained conspicuously dry. He stepped out of the puddle and shook the excess water off the bottoms of his shoes. There would be time to deal with that later.
"Anyway," he resumed - loudly, so Minion (wherever he was) could hear, "the entire process was a bit more involved than I had anticipated. For instance, did you know that flowers apparently have their own language?"
He walked toward the monitors and gave them a cursory glance. The screens displayed the live feed from outside the lair. All was quiet at the moment.
"It's true!" he said. "Everything has a meaning. For instance, did you know that a rose of a certain color means both friendship and jealousy? Can you imagine that! So if you send someone a yellow rose, how is that person supposed to know if you envied them, or wanted to be friends?"
Megamind paused and wondered if, in hindsight, that said anything about his choice to bring yellow roses to the Metro Man Museum all those months ago. He wrinkled his nose. Of course not. Besides, he had just stolen those off a street cart; it wasn't as if he had actually given the choice any real thought.
"And what if that person doesn't even speak 'flower'?" he continued. "How does one convey their message properly?" Megamind shook his head and stepped away from the monitors. "It was all very complex. Then I learned that red roses mean love, which seemed perfect at first, but the very helpful flower-ist in the third shop said that roses were a very, very common choice. And you know the last thing I want is to be too predictable."
Megamind peeked into the alligators' pit, but it looked as though they had already been fed. Minion wasn't down there either.
"So I went with white tulips," he called out, walking back toward the inner portion of the lair. "They are unique and look quite impressive when grouped together, and the woman at the shop even showed me this wonderful spray that they use to dye the petals different colors. So I had her tint the very tips of the flowers blue." He shrugged. "I like them. Besides, Roxanne loves the park, which has a very large tulip garden in the spring . . ." He trailed off, crooking a finger thoughtfully against his chin. "Of course, she also used to visit that park with her mother. You don't think tulips would remind her of her mother, do you? That's not quite the message I had hoped to send." Megamind scowled as only silence answered him. "Minion, I could really use your input on this! Do you even hear me?"
He walked toward one of the lair's side rooms, just beside the monitors.
"Minion, are you even here, or am I just talking to my-"
He froze.
"-self."
There was Minion. Finally! But what was he doing? Megamind's brow furrowed as he scrutinized his friend. The suit was just lying there, prone - face-down on the floor. Was Minion looking for something? Megamind began to walk toward him.
"Minion?"
This was strange. Minion's suit actually looked powered-down. But he never did that in the middle of the day. Not when there were always so many things to do. And even when Minion did power-down, the suit usually remained upright. Reclining was unnecessary - the position of the suit made no difference to the fish inside the tank.
"Minion?"
Frustratingly, Minion didn't respond. That wasn't like him at all. Megamind began to feel an unsettling prickle against the back of his neck.
"Min-"
-splish-
The soft, wet sound beneath his feet halted him a second time - just as abruptly as if he'd hit a wall. The unsettling prickle on his neck intensified into a creeping, uncomfortable chill running down the entire length of his spine. Almost against his own volition, Megamind turned his hesitant gaze downward. He was standing in another puddle, staring into his own wide-eyed reflection.
Megamind slowly tilted his head to glance behind him. Some primal part of his brain pleaded with him not to look, but he did anyway. For the first time he noticed, not just two puddles, but an unmistakable trail of water - a lot of it - splotching the concrete floor of the lair. It began several feet from the monitors, and led all the way to . . . here.
Megamind tore his eyes away from the floor and raised his trembling gaze back to where his friend's suit was lying motionless several yards ahead. His blood ran cold. His heart hammered in his chest.
Realization slammed home.
". . . Minion . . ."
* * *
The world upended itself for a moment as the building around Roxanne shook. The cacophony of people screaming, ceramic mugs shattering on the floor, and the breaking of the glass windows seemed to sweep around her like a whirlwind. It all happened so quickly, she only had time to raise one arm to instinctively protect her face.
Though neither she nor Wayne had moved from where they sat, Roxanne felt his hand firmly grip her other wrist upon the table between them.
When everything settled and the world returned to its axis, Roxanne found herself staring at the gaping hole in the café's storefront. The city outside was clouded from view by a thick haze of swirling dust. An eerie silence hung in the air.
Roxanne cautiously stood up. She took a step toward the yawning opening near the entrance - only to feel a firm tug against her wrist. She glanced down at Wayne, who was eyeing her with a cautioning glare.
"Roxanne," he warned.
She would have argued with him if she'd had the time. In the next moment an enormous shadowy shape loomed through the dust outside the broken window. Roxanne directed her attention from Wayne toward the silent, approaching shadow.
When a long, robotic leg, ornamented with sharp spikes, stepped through the haze and into the café, Roxanne's heart skipped a beat in her chest. Her breath caught.
"Megamind?" she said, her voice small and disbelieving.
Wayne must have been shocked as well because his grip loosened and Roxanne's wrist slipped free.
Roxanne's eyes widened as more legs crawled into view and the unmistakable hulking frame of Megamind's spider-bot emerged through the thick dust. Something Minion had said not long ago flashed through her thoughts:
. . . The new stealth modifications on the spider-bot are working well . . .
Oh, god. She had never even heard it approach. She hadn't heard anything until the windows had exploded. And what was probably even scarier: neither, apparently, had Wayne. Roxanne continued to stare at the huge mechanical arachnid in horrified confusion, until the individual operating it pushed the safety harness off his shoulders and stood up in the seat.
Disbelief hit Roxanne like a sledgehammer. She narrowed her eyes at him and blinked.
It wasn't Megamind.
"Owen?"
At first, Owen's only reply was a noticeably smug grin as he struck a rather overly-dramatic pose from the driver's seat of the spider-bot. He rooted his fists to his hips and glared down at her with an air of self-importance. It wasn't until Roxanne blinked a second time that she actually noticed what he was now wearing. The young man's lanky body was swathed in a red spandex bodysuit - or, at least his torso was. His pants were a pair of black, multi-pocketed cargo trousers tucked into a pair of high black work-boots. The other trimmings of his ensemble - from his belt to his gloves to a cape that extended just a bit past the back of his waist - were also a matte black, and he had a pair of what looked like swimmer's goggles perched upon his forehead. His sandy hair curled haphazardly around the lenses. What caught Roxanne's eye most, however, was the beetle with the flame on its shell that emblazoned the front of his bodysuit.
"So, Ms. Ritchi," he drawled, raising an eyebrow, "we meet again."
As opening lines went, that was pretty unoriginal. Roxanne let out an incredulous noise that couldn't quite pass for laughter. Her hands settled on her hips as she glared at him.
"Owen . . . you?" she retorted dubiously. "You're the Beetle-Bomber?"
At that, Owen's entire body visibly bristled. His dramatic pose deflated a bit. "Seriously?" he asked. "That's what you came up with?"
Owen pointed sharply to the emblem on his chest with both hands. "Do you people not recognize a play on words when you see it?" He addressed the entire café, though he scowled directly at Roxanne as he spoke. "It's Fire Bug, okay? Fire-" he spat, pointing to the miniature flame on his outfit. "-Bug!" he concluded as he indicated the beetle. "You'd think the fact that I started all those fires would have made it obvious!"
The young man actually looked like he was sulking. Roxanne made an unimpressed face as she met his eyes again. She crossed her arms and fixed Owen with a stony glare. She wasn't afraid of this guy. For years, she had locked horns with Metro City's resident criminal genius - and she had held her own just fine. She could handle Megamind's fanboy.
"Well, technically," she replied, "you planted bombs." She shrugged. "If you're going to choose to be all cryptic about your identity, Owen, and wait for the public to guess, you might not have too much say about what name you get."
The young man's features went from sulking to venomous. "I told you," he snarled through gritted teeth. "The name . . . is Fire Bug!"
Out of the corner of her eye, Roxanne noticed most of the people in the café were cowering back from the unstable young intruder and the huge robotic spider. Some had ducked behind the counter, while others had hidden beneath tables. No doubt a few had taken refuge in the restrooms. Roxanne was the only one standing.
Roxanne arched an eyebrow at him, keeping her arms crossed challengingly and cocking her weight to one foot. If she managed to stay calm and collected, it might help keep the other people around her from panicking. She took a bold step closer to Owen. "From the looks of things, we can probably find an even better name for you," she offered conversationally. "Like 'Parasite', maybe? The bomb gimmick is one thing, but there's something to be said for a villain who comes up with his own inventions, instead of stealing them from-"
Roxanne froze.
Wait a minute . . .
Her eyes widened and her cutting banter died on her lips. The spider-bot! Roxanne had been so relieved that Megamind hadn't been the one in the driver's seat, that she hadn't stopped to question why someone else was. If Owen had the spider-bot, that meant . . . he had somehow gotten it from the lair. Which meant-
Oh, God.
Owen's gloating smile returned in response to the change in Roxanne's demeanor. At her horrified expression, he rooted his fists back onto his hips and stared down his nose at her. He flashed her a revolting sneer. "You were saying, Ms. Ritchi?"
Roxanne glared up at him with a sudden fury in her eyes. "What did you do?" she demanded.
Owen barked with laughter. It was a high-pitched, straining sound. He shook his head. "If I were you, I'd be a little more concerned about what I'm going to do." He reached down into the bed of the spider-bot, hauled out an imposing ray gun, and trained it on her with both hands. "Don't you think?"
Roxanne's heart felt as though it had leapt into her throat as she stared down the muzzle of the large-barreled weapon. Over the years, she had spent quite a bit of time at the business end of many of Megamind's inventions, but they had never caused her to feel as uneasy as this one did right now. It spoke to the strange sort of trust she had had for her erstwhile kidnapper - even then.
This young man, however, was a different story.
Roxanne still managed to stand her ground against Owen. Her shoulders rose and fell heavily with every breath, but she was determined not to back down. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her sides. She had to keep her wits about her. "I wouldn't be so hasty with that," she warned him. "Some of them have a nasty tendency to backfire on the user." She was taking a slight gamble and she knew it. Owen was wielding a device that she didn't actually recognize from previous experience.
Owen, however, only shrugged. "Oh, I managed to do a little research while Megamind was out," he said. "Of course, his favorite damsel should be pretty familiar with all his stuff," he added with a casual shrug, hoisting the weapon in his hands. "Come on, Ms. Ritchi, you've probably seen most of these in action. Shrink ray, freeze ray, stun gun, mind control device . . ." He leered down at her again. "Tell me: What's this one do?"
Roxanne took a tentative step back. She swallowed hard. Owen was more unstable than she had thought; he was almost manic. She shook her head cautiously. "Can't say that I know, Owen," she replied, attempting to keep her voice calm and even.
Owen frowned again as she insisted on using his real name, but it was quickly replaced by another mad grin. "Oh," he said flatly. "Well, let's find out."
Roxanne didn't even have time to react before he fired.
The solid crack of an impact reverberated through the café. The world surrounding Roxanne spun out of focus. Several screams erupted around her, but Roxanne was conscious of very little else for several endless seconds. When awareness finally caught up with her again, she straightened her body. She didn't remember twisting away from the blast, though, apparently, she had. She lowered her hands from where they had reached up to instinctively shield her head.
As she faced forward again, her view of Owen was blocked by the broad expanse of a wide, muscular back. Her breath caught in her throat.
Wayne.
Roxanne gasped and stared wide-eyed, catching a glimpse of his profile. Wayne's expression was determined, focused, and unfaltering. His Intense Scowl of Justice was back - unmistakable, even beneath the shaggy hair that covered his face. But there was a tense throbbing in his jaw that Roxanne had never seen in the countless times he had rescued her in the past. His eyes, too, were different. They were overly-bright and, underneath the rekindled superhero façade, there was a flicker of something . . .
Fear.
Roxanne felt as though a cold clamp had gripped her heart as she stared at him.
But she knew it wasn't Owen he was afraid of.
Roxanne could practically feel every eye in the café on her - on him. The weight of those stares actually felt palpable, as did the unnatural silence that suddenly hung heavily in the air. In an instant, more than a year of deception was over. The moment Wayne had stepped in front of that blast, he had risked tarnishing Metro Man's golden legacy by publicly exposing his lie to a roomful of citizens.
And he had done it willingly . . . for her.
Wayne had doubted his ability to be a real hero because he had thought he could never truly be brave. Roxanne knew now that he couldn't have been more wrong.
"Oh, Wayne," she whispered.
A hushed silence continued to linger in the café for several more eternal moments. It was finally broken when one quiet, clear voice floated up from somewhere near the back of the room.
"M- Metro Man?"
A steady buzz of disbelieving exclamations followed as the people in the café actually began to realize what they were witnessing. No doubt several of them had even whipped out their camera phones by now.
Wayne, however, did not divert his attention from Owen. He remained every bit the focused superhero. Since there was no need for the disguise any longer, he shrugged himself out of the trenchcoat he had been wearing, tossed his hat aside, and crossed his arms over the broad barrel of his chest. The plain jeans, the simple, white t-shirt, the disheveled hair, and the scruffy jaw created a surreal image, but Wayne stood there impressively, as though he was somehow once again shrouded in the protective comfort of his usual, golden-trimmed ivory armor.
"I'm sorry, Fire Bug," he remarked to the young man before him. "Something tells me the lady isn't too hot to remain in your company." The quip came easily and he flashed his trademark smirk as he spoke, but, Roxanne noticed, Wayne's voice, like his expression, was tight and tense.
Roxanne finally tore her gaze away from Wayne and back to Owen. If it was even possible, her heart began to hammer even faster in her chest. The young man didn't look very surprised, or even scared - at least not for long. If anything, his face now looked positively ecstatic.
He began to laugh. It started low in his throat and developed into an eerie, high-pitched giggle. It was nothing like the villainous, diabolical laughter Megamind had honed over so many years, but it was enough to set Roxanne's teeth on edge.
"I knew it," Owen breathed. His eyes were bright and elated. "I mean, I wasn't completely sure, but . . ." He stabbed a finger pointedly into the air. "Still! I knew it! I knew it was something!" he crowed triumphantly. "This is turning out even more perfect than I could have planned!"
Wayne looked unimpressed by the young man's bluster. "Well, it seems those plans are about to go up in smoke," he said. He uncrossed his arms and pounded one fist into the opposite hand.
Owen smirked and traded the weapon in his hand for another he had stowed beside him in the spider-bot. He raised it to his shoulder. "Good thing I came prepared," he retorted.
This time Roxanne recognized the weapon immediately: the long, cylindrical chamber attached beneath the gun's barrel . . . the swirling, gaseous vapor inside . . . the memory of the raw power of a fiery explosion, frozen and suspended in time . . .
Her eyes widened.
. . . The paradox gun . . .
"No!" Roxanne shouted, almost automatically. "Wayne, wait!" She made a desperate lunge for his arm.
At the same moment, Wayne moved and Owen fired.
The beam hit Wayne in the shoulder as he twisted his body to shield Roxanne. She heard him grunt in confusion and watched as the translucent, milky substance immediately began to spread up and down the length of his left arm. It was enveloped quickly and he held the limb up to his face, staring at it in bewilderment. He tried to clench his fist closed, but seemed to struggle with the movement.
"Wha-" he grunted. "What is this?"
Roxanne looked on in horror as the boa plasma raced over Wayne's body. He met her eyes for a split second, then glanced down to where she was still tightly gripping his other arm. In the final moment before that was covered too, he shook her off, sending her stumbling back into her chair just as he crumpled to the floor.
Startled gasps and protests reverberated through the crowd in the café. Wayne's body was hunched over, and he struggled with the effort to raise himself. Just the simple lifting of his head looked arduous. Shakily, he raised a hand to his temple. He squinted.
Nothing.
He tried again.
Again, there was no reaction.
"I can't use my laser vision," he panted in disbelief. He raised his head to Owen, who was smiling with a ravenous look on his face. Wayne grimaced and attempted to fly at the young man, but didn't get more than a foot off the ground before he was dragged back down to the floor.
Roxanne stared, transfixed and horrified. Megamind's boa plasma had worked after all. Everything Wayne tried to do to break free was negated by the substance that trapped him. It was worse than having a weakness - the plasma used his own strength directly against him. Metro Man was truly helpless.
Owen pressed a button on the spider-bot's controls, opening a hatch and releasing a large claw from deep within its chassis. He aimed it at Wayne.
Roxanne started to climb back to her feet. She glanced to where her purse had spilled over when she had fallen into the chair. She clenched her jaw, reached inside quickly until she found what she needed, then clambered back to a standing position.
Owen made a display of snapping the claw closed and open. He leered down at Wayne, who scowled back at him in defiance. "Guess I'm going home with a prize," the young villain drawled.
Suddenly, Roxanne appeared. She positioned herself between Wayne and Owen, staring at the young man ferociously and raising her balled hands into fists. "If you want him," she spat, "you'll have to go through me."
"Roxanne!" Wayne protested at her back. "Don't!"
Owen, however, simply looked amused. "Wow, feisty," he chuckled. "But, don't worry. I wasn't planning to leave you out."
He pressed a button and the claw shot forward, clamping over her waist and dragging her off her feet. Roxanne cried out as she hurtled forward until she was face-to-face with Owen.
"It just wouldn't be the same without Roxanne Ritchi." He grinned.
Roxanne shot him a fierce scowl as she hung helplessly from the grip of the spider-bot.
Owen pressed a button and unceremoniously dumped her into the narrow space beside the driver's seat. He smirked at her as he added, "Now stay put while I grab your ex."
A moment later, Wayne was tossed into the space beside her. He attempted to raise himself to look at her. "Roxanne," he grunted. "You shouldn't have." Even speaking seemed laborious.
The spider-bot lurched into motion and began crawling out of the café.
Roxanne placed one hand on Wayne's arm, even though he probably couldn't feel it through the plasma. The cold, wet sensation against her fingers made her skin crawl.
"Don't worry," she whispered, hoping the substance didn't prevent him from hearing her. She glared at Owen's profile as he maneuvered the spider-bot out into the city, then she offered Wayne a wry smile and uncurled her other hand from its tightly clenched fist. There was a small, round mark affixed to her palm. The circuitry inside gave off a dim, pulsing shimmer of electric blue.
"Tracking devices may be against the Hero Code," she said, "but I have a feeling we can make an exception in this case."
She only prayed that Owen hadn't done something to prevent Megamind from following it.
* * *
He moved without thinking - dashing forward desperately, heedless of the flowers he had dropped and crushed underfoot as he ran. As he closed the distance between where he had been standing and his immobile friend, his massive brain had room for one thought, and one thought only:
. . . Minion . . . Please be all right, please be all right, please be all right . . .
Megamind dropped to his hands and knees and scrambled up the length of the robot suit, pulling himself level with the glass dome at the top.
It was drained. Empty.
. . . Oh, God, no . . .
The fish inside lay among the few remaining drops of water like a discarded tub toy. How long had he been like this? Megamind's thoughts raced desperately, trying to calculate just how long he had been gone. Minion's physiology enabled him to go without water for far longer than the aquatic life native to this planet, but the fact that he wasn't moving, he wasn't gasping, he wasn't struggling, he wasn't doing anything - it was not a good sign.
Megamind shot a frantic glance behind him at the water that trailed through the lair. What could have happened to cause such a horrible malfunction in the suit? And why hadn't Minion called him for help? There should have at least been plenty of time for that.
Megamind followed the macabre trail of water with his eyes - it spattered the floor like a grisly crime scene. Then he glanced toward the area ahead of him. A large industrial sink was affixed to the wall in this room. They rarely used it, but that must have been where Minion was headed when he . . . lost consciousness.
All other thoughts - all questions of why or how this had happened - receded to the furthest corners of Megamind's brain. Only one thing mattered: he needed to get Minion out of there. Now. The old sink on the wall ahead beckoned like a lifeline.
His first thought was of the flip-lid at the very top of the bowl. If he could remove it, perhaps he would be able to squeeze Minion out through the opening. Megamind scuttled up the suit and pressed his fingers against the revolving cap to release the hermetic seal. As it tilted open, he grabbed it firmly in his hand and tried to wrench the rotating hinges free of the dome. Even as he struggled with it, he knew it wasn't going to work; Megamind had originally installed the lid so Minion would easily be able to eat, but he hadn't wanted to risk Minion ever falling, or getting accidentally thrown, out. (Not when evil plans always seemed to have a habit of going unpredictably wrong.)
It wouldn't be possible to remove the lid by hand - he had made certain of that when he had designed it. He would need the right tools, but Megamind didn't know if Minion had that kind of time.
He needed to get the dome off completely.
But the suit was face-down, and the buttons to release the seal were on the chest underneath. With Minion unconscious-
. . . Not dead, not dead, please, God, not dead . . .
-he wasn't capable of establishing his link to the suit to help turn it over. And it was too heavy for Megamind to move by himself. But if there was a way to rouse Minion, to wake him up, even for a moment . . .
Instinctively, Megamind pounded on the glass of the tank with the flat of his hand. The glass was thick; he wouldn't be able to shatter it without significant force. But he knew Minion could feel the concussion that sort of pounding created. Maybe the loud echo and the vibrations inside the dome would be enough to revive him long enough to get him to raise the suit.
"Minion! Minion! MINION!"
Megamind yelled into the tank's speakers until he was hoarse. When the fish didn't respond, Megamind scrambled back around and gripped the robot's shoulder with both hands. He braced himself and pulled with all his might, trying desperately to turn the suit over himself. He let out a long, agonizing wail as he strained against the solid weight of it. Even without the water, the suit wouldn't budge. It wouldn't budge!
Megamind collapsed on top of it with a gasp. He screwed his eyes shut. This wasn't happening! How could this be happening?
Help me! Someone, help me, please!
Megamind raised his watch to his lips. The brainbots were scattered all over the city - patrolling, scanning Roxanne's apartment, keeping watch over the places that had been targeted by the bomber - but maybe . . . maybe there were still some close by.
"Brainbots," he rasped into the watch. "Help. Help me!"
Dead silence answered him. His mind reeled in panic, even as an overwhelming defeat began to settle in his heart. He buried his face in the synthetic fur of the suit. Then a series of soft bowgs could be heard approaching from the far corners of the lair. Three brainbots came to hover over him and Megamind raised his head.
He felt a cold rush upon his cheeks. (His face was wet. When had his face gotten wet?) He scrambled frantically backwards off the suit. "Turn him over," he commanded the 'bots. "Gently!" he added emphatically.
The brainbots did as instructed. Megamind's heart gave an agonized lurch as even the very careful movement still caused Minion's little body to roll and flop bonelessly within the confines of the empty glass dome. When the suit was turned over, Megamind dashed forward to punch frantically at the buttons just below the tank.
. . . Right, left, middle, middle, right . . .
The dome released with a hiss. The airtight seal opened and a few remaining drops of precious water escaped to leak down the robotic gorilla's chest. Megamind's hands trembled as he carefully reached inside and drew Minion out. In all the times Minion had purposely tricked Megamind - faked him out, "played possum" just to get him to smile-
. . . Classic Minion. Classic Minion . . .
-he had never looked or felt like this. He was completely limp, unresponsive. The long appendages of his bothria hung lifelessly beneath him and his skin was so very cold. Megamind swallowed. Minion's skin had always been cold, which was momentarily reassuring, but now it was also unnaturally dry - like delicate sandpaper.
"Minion," Megamind whispered.
He looked at the brainbots. "You!" he commanded the nearest one. "The sink! Turn it on, now!" As the 'bot sailed off ahead of him, Megamind gently cradled his friend's little body in the crook of his arm and ran. Water had begun pouring from the large faucet as he reached the sink, but as Megamind looked down, he saw that the drain had no plug.
Carefully - very carefully - he shifted Minion's weight from one arm to the other and shrugged himself out of the jacket of his navy blue suit.
"Hang on," he said to Minion as he struggled out of the sleeves. Please, hang on.
He balled the jacket up and jammed as much of the fabric as he could down tightly into the drain. The level of the water finally began to rise. Megamind reached forward and gently placed Minion beneath the surface.
He held him there as the water level rose up, first past his wrists, then past his elbows. Soon the arms of his dress shirt were completely saturated. Megamind stared at his friend through the ripples the running water created on the surface. He stroked one thumb lightly over the area between Minion's closed eyes.
"Minion?" he coaxed. His voice was a ragged whisper. "Come on. Come on. Please."
There was no reaction - no shudder of response. Not to the water, not to Megamind's touch, nor to his desperate pleas. There was nothing. Megamind let out an anguished cry and leaned forward into the sink, partially submerging himself as he pressed his forehead to Minion's beseechingly.
"Don't do this," he pleaded. "Please, Minion, don't." He screwed his eyes shut again, gritting his teeth as though he was in physical pain. "You can't leave me," he implored desperately. "I'll be all that's left."
When he couldn't stand it any longer, Megamind slumped to the floor beside the sink, though his hands still stretched upward and cradled his friend beneath the surface of the water. He stayed there as the liquid reached the brim and began to spill intermittently over the side, pooling around his knees.
Kneeling on the floor of the lair, with his head against the cold porcelain of the basin, Megamind wept. It was the first time since his childhood, but even then it had never been like this. It was a sort of crying he never would have imagined himself capable of - too horrible and too profound to produce any sound or even any tears. Noiseless sobs wracked his shuddering body, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and his mouth was open in a gaping, silent rictus of pain.
Megamind knew what it felt like to experience failure. But this . . .
This must be what it truly felt like to lose.
Click here for Chapter 11 Part 1
Author: Rummi (
sharelle)Characters / Pairing: Ensemble / Megamind/Roxanne
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Badness. (And not the good-for-bad kind.) I'm sorry!
Word Count: 6,504
Summary: A former villain and a former hero each try to adapt to the new destinies they've chosen. It's not always easy . . . especially when a new danger threatens to blow everything apart.
Previous chapters can be found here. (Or at FF.Net.)
Author's Notes: I'm still not 100% sure how many chapter breaks I'll have between here and the end, which is why I've still got that silly question mark as my end point. However, the final segments are coming together. (Not as quickly as I'd like, but, given the start of the new academic year, it's probably about as quickly as I can expect.) I do hope this offering is enjoyed, and I'll do my absolute best to continue as soon as possible!
Many thanks to everyone who has been so supportive of this story. It's been a long time since I've enjoyed writing a fic this much, and it has a great deal to do with you!
And, of course, huge thanks, as always, to
ray_wing - a lovely beta, a supportive sounding board, and a tremendous help!by Rummi
Chapter 10 - Cold and Warm, Dark and Light
Roxanne's workday had been interminable so far, and it was only half over. But at least, by the time she reached her afternoon break, she knew she only had a few more hours left to go.
Just a few hours to wait until Megamind's big evening plans - whatever those might be.
She caught herself blatantly grinning as she walked down Main Street. It felt a little silly but she couldn't help it. She gave in to it and permitted herself a moment of unabashed giddiness as she reached the Café Beanery and nudged the door open with her hip. She listened to the pleasant little tinkle of the wind chimes on the door as she rooted through her purse for her wallet.
On impulse, she glanced over to her usual table. She hadn't seen Wayne in several days - not since the day of the Metro Tower bombing - and she didn't like the way they had left things after their last conversation. She had hoped for the opportunity to offer him a real apology.
Roxanne froze just inside the entranceway.
Today, it seemed, was her lucky day - in more ways than one.
He was there. Finally back. Sitting at the table with a small smile on his face. Roxanne grinned and shook her head slightly. He also had two coffees waiting in front of him. She abandoned her search for her wallet, dropped her purse back over her shoulder, and walked toward him. She stopped beside the table and offered him a soft smile.
Before she could greet him further, Wayne held one of the cups toward her. "Flavored creamer, no extra sugar," he said.
Roxanne accepted the cup and felt her hands warm against it. "I was beginning to wonder if I drove you away," she replied, still smiling softly. "I had hoped not." She pulled the chair across from him out and settled down onto it. "Look, Wayne, about last time: I know I was probably out of line-"
"Please," he interrupted, raising a hand to stop her. "I came here to apologize. Think of the coffee as a peace offering. I also have a favor to ask."
Roxanne blinked at him. "Wayne," she said, "you don't have anything to-"
"Yes, I do," he gently interrupted her again. "I really do." He stared down at his drink for a moment and rolled the cup lightly back and forth between his hands. When he looked up at Roxanne again she noticed something off about his expression. He actually seemed . . . nervous.
"Roxanne," he finally began, "we're . . . friends, right?"
She looked at him as though she couldn't believe he would ask that. "Of course we are," she said.
Wayne nodded tensely. "That's good," he said. "That's really good. I'm glad." He shifted awkwardly in his chair and paused.
Roxanne waited. She desperately wanted to say something encouraging, but she didn't want to muscle in on whatever he was struggling with.
Finally Wayne released a miniature explosion of air from his mouth, followed by what sounded like the mockery of a laugh. He shook his head. "You know, this only goes to prove how much better I was with having fans than friends," he muttered off-handedly. At last, he met Roxanne's eyes again. "I guess I should apologize for that in advance too; I'm not really good at this."
Roxanne smiled at him sympathetically. "It's all right," she said.
"Okay," he continued. He said it as though he was prepping for a big announcement. Then he squared his shoulders and looked her full in the face. "Look, I know I've been dodging your suggestions that I see Megamind," he said. "I bet that's been frustrating. But I've actually had a reason for it."
Roxanne leaned slightly toward him against the table. "Oh?"
"Yeah," he answered. "It's kind of a stupid reason, but it's a reason. The fact is, Roxanne, I don't want to see Megamind. At all."
Roxanne sat back again. It was her turn to shift awkwardly in her chair. "Oh."
"That sounds awful, right?" he asked. A guilty, humorless smirk tugged at a corner of his lips. "I leave you both in the lurch last year, and then basically refuse to even speak to the guy now?" Wayne shook his head and cast his eyes down toward the table. "But it's like I said a few days ago: it's not really about him." He looked back up at her. "It's me, Roxanne. I'm . . ." He swallowed. "Believe it or not, just the idea of talking to him . . . well, let's just say it scares me a little."
For a moment, she could only blink at him in surprise. Roxanne replayed what he had just said to her several times in her mind before it finally, completely registered. When it did, she leaned toward him again, gazing at his face with concern. "But, Wayne-"
"I know," he said. "I know how that sounds. But I don't want to talk to Megamind because the thought of seeing him now . . . like this . . . when, let's face it, he has everything and I have nothing . . ." Wayne tugged on the lapels of his trenchcoat as if to illustrate his point, then let his hands drop back to the table. "Honestly? It's not a very appealing idea."
Roxanne reached forward with both hands, covering his very large ones as he held onto his coffee cup. It hadn't been that difficult to sniff out his apprehension when it came to the people of Metro City discovering his secret, but she'd had no idea he had felt this way about talking to Megamind. After all, Megamind already knew that Metro Man was alive. And since there were so few people who did, Roxanne had only assumed that Wayne would eventually welcome their company.
Superhero solidarity, after all.
The fact that Wayne had been purposely isolating himself . . . Roxanne just couldn't understand it.
But it didn't have to be that way.
"I'm sorry, I had no idea," she said gently. "I guess I was being really pushy then, huh?" She inched closer to him, perching on the very edge of her seat. "But, Wayne, if you're worried about him rejecting you, please don't. I know there's a part of him that has always admired you - even when you two were fighting. I mean, you were his one worthy adversary, right? And no one says you have to become best buddies right off the bat - things like that take time. But I know he would at least be receptive to talking with you. I know it."
Wayne gave her a sad smile and chuckled self-depreciatingly. "You know, in a way that's almost worse than a rejection," he said.
Roxanne's brow knitted in concerned confusion. "What do you mean?"
Wayne sighed. "I don't know how much he's told you about all the details of our history," he said. "If he hasn't, it's not really my place to tell you his part of it, but let's just say he didn't have the easiest time of things when we were kids. He wasn't made to feel very . . . welcome." Wayne shifted again. "And . . . I probably had something to do with that."
Roxanne's heart twisted. She had known at least part of that.
. . . None of the other kids really liked me . . .
Megamind had, indeed, mentioned some of the rather painful details about his past to her - the fact that he had been excluded, even bullied, as a child. It had taken some gentle coaxing on her part, but having him open up about some of the most difficult aspects of his past was certainly a testament to how much he had come to trust her. He hadn't gotten into many detailed specifics regarding Wayne's role in all that (though constantly referring to him as Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes certainly offered a hint), but to hear Wayne allude to having a hand in Megamind's early painful memories added a rather telling layer to their relationship.
"I probably could have made things easier for him," Wayne continued. "But I . . . I guess I didn't. In my defense, I was really young when we first met, but . . ." He shook his head. "I'd known I wanted to be a hero, even then. But a hero - a real one - would have probably stood up for him." Wayne glanced back down into his coffee cup. "If I go to him now, and he actually lets bygones be bygones . . ." He shrugged. "What does that say about who's the better man?"
Wayne shook his head and chuckled ruefully down at the table. "He didn't even tell anyone that I wasn't really dead this past year. He kept my secret," he muttered softly. "We fought for years, but he still kept it. He didn't have to." He stared past Roxanne toward the door of the café. "Apparently, it means the guy's better at losing and at winning than I am."
Roxanne had been listening attentively, careful not to interrupt with platitudes or false assurances. She might not be privy to all the gory details of the complete Wayne Scott/Megamind history, but if what she was hearing now was true, perhaps Wayne's guilty conscience was at least a little bit deserved. Part of her wanted to reassure him, but it simply wasn't her place to tell him everything was okay.
Of course, Megamind had made his own decisions about his life, too - and he was still dealing with the consequences of those choices. But a person can only be told they're "bad" so many times before they start believing it. No doubt, both men shouldered at least some of the blame for the way their little game had escalated. It was also clear that neither one of them was very good at seeing their relationship as anything more than a competition, even now. Getting past that would undoubtedly take time.
But this wasn't about who was the better hero, and it certainly wasn't about who was the better man. As Roxanne looked across the table at Wayne, she knew there was a difference between being remorseful over one's mistakes, and completely beating oneself up.
That, Wayne didn't deserve.
She gave his hands a gentle squeeze. "Okay," she said. "I get it, Wayne. I do." She gave a small huff of laughter. "You know, you two are probably more alike than you realize. Megamind takes things harder than he really should, too." She shook her head. "I hope someday you can get through this roadblock enough to want to see him, because I really believe it would do you both a world of good."
Wayne nodded. "How does today sound?"
Roxanne's eyes shot back up to Wayne's face. Her mouth worked wordlessly for a moment, then she squinted at him in confusion. "But I thought you just said-"
"That I don't want to see him," Wayne finished the sentence for her. "That's true, I don't. But I'm going to do it anyway, Roxanne. I . . . I need to." He offered her a small, almost bashful, smile. "Because I thought about something else you had said - about finding a little bravery of my own. I may be apprehensive about talking to Megamind for a number of reasons, but I'm also tired of hiding from him. Cowards hide, and that is something I definitely don't want to be."
Roxanne couldn't stop an enormous grin from spreading across her face. This really was turning out to be a very good day.
"And that's where the favor comes in," Wayne added. "I was hoping maybe I could convince you to be there. You know, when I talk to him. It might make it easier . . . to have a friend there."
Roxanne continued to beam at him. "Of course I will!" she said. "Nothing would make me happier than seeing you boys finally bury the hatchet." She smirked and added, "In something besides each others' heads, that is!"
Wayne laughed deep in his chest. "So, today?" he prompted.
"Well, tonight he and I have . . . plans," Roxanne informed him with a subtle duck of her head. "It's sort of a special occasion. But now is good." She smirked at him again. "How is now for you?"
Wayne's eyes widened. "Now, huh?" He fidgeted a little with his coffee cup, then raised it to take a large gulp. "Maybe I should finish this first," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist.
Roxanne giggled lightly. He really did look nervous now. "A little liquid courage, Metro Man?" she teased. "You may need something stronger."
"The day I find something that's actually strong enough to work, I'll let you know," he mused wryly. Then he gave her a sincere smile. "Yeah, I think now is just fine. I know you're on your break. Will you have enough time?"
But Roxanne never got the chance to answer. At that moment, an explosion rocked the building. Startled screams erupted from the people filling the café as they ducked for cover, ceramic cups smashed upon the floor, and a blinding shower of glass burst through the room as the large storefront windows shattered inward.
Megamind was smiling as he carefully removed the flowers from the passenger seat of the invisible car. He adjusted them in his arms as he closed the door behind him with a good, firm kick.
"Minion?" he called out as he took a few steps deeper into the lair. "I'm back!" He tugged gently on the tissue paper that was wrapped around the flower stalks to smooth out any wrinkles. "I'm sorry it took so long. Who would have thought it could be so complicated to aesthetically organize an arrangement of plant life? One would think working with something that grows out of the ground would be a simple matter."
As he took a step forward, his foot met the floor with a soft, wet-sounding splish. He glanced downward, to where he appeared to be standing in a puddle. Megamind wrinkled his nose at it then looked toward the ceiling. He cocked his head a few times and squinted upward, holding out one hand to see if he could catch any telltale dripping.
"Seems we have a leak," he called out, his voice echoing through the lair. "Somewhere," he added in a grumble as he looked at the palm of his hand, which had remained conspicuously dry. He stepped out of the puddle and shook the excess water off the bottoms of his shoes. There would be time to deal with that later.
"Anyway," he resumed - loudly, so Minion (wherever he was) could hear, "the entire process was a bit more involved than I had anticipated. For instance, did you know that flowers apparently have their own language?"
He walked toward the monitors and gave them a cursory glance. The screens displayed the live feed from outside the lair. All was quiet at the moment.
"It's true!" he said. "Everything has a meaning. For instance, did you know that a rose of a certain color means both friendship and jealousy? Can you imagine that! So if you send someone a yellow rose, how is that person supposed to know if you envied them, or wanted to be friends?"
Megamind paused and wondered if, in hindsight, that said anything about his choice to bring yellow roses to the Metro Man Museum all those months ago. He wrinkled his nose. Of course not. Besides, he had just stolen those off a street cart; it wasn't as if he had actually given the choice any real thought.
"And what if that person doesn't even speak 'flower'?" he continued. "How does one convey their message properly?" Megamind shook his head and stepped away from the monitors. "It was all very complex. Then I learned that red roses mean love, which seemed perfect at first, but the very helpful flower-ist in the third shop said that roses were a very, very common choice. And you know the last thing I want is to be too predictable."
Megamind peeked into the alligators' pit, but it looked as though they had already been fed. Minion wasn't down there either.
"So I went with white tulips," he called out, walking back toward the inner portion of the lair. "They are unique and look quite impressive when grouped together, and the woman at the shop even showed me this wonderful spray that they use to dye the petals different colors. So I had her tint the very tips of the flowers blue." He shrugged. "I like them. Besides, Roxanne loves the park, which has a very large tulip garden in the spring . . ." He trailed off, crooking a finger thoughtfully against his chin. "Of course, she also used to visit that park with her mother. You don't think tulips would remind her of her mother, do you? That's not quite the message I had hoped to send." Megamind scowled as only silence answered him. "Minion, I could really use your input on this! Do you even hear me?"
He walked toward one of the lair's side rooms, just beside the monitors.
"Minion, are you even here, or am I just talking to my-"
He froze.
"-self."
There was Minion. Finally! But what was he doing? Megamind's brow furrowed as he scrutinized his friend. The suit was just lying there, prone - face-down on the floor. Was Minion looking for something? Megamind began to walk toward him.
"Minion?"
This was strange. Minion's suit actually looked powered-down. But he never did that in the middle of the day. Not when there were always so many things to do. And even when Minion did power-down, the suit usually remained upright. Reclining was unnecessary - the position of the suit made no difference to the fish inside the tank.
"Minion?"
Frustratingly, Minion didn't respond. That wasn't like him at all. Megamind began to feel an unsettling prickle against the back of his neck.
"Min-"
-splish-
The soft, wet sound beneath his feet halted him a second time - just as abruptly as if he'd hit a wall. The unsettling prickle on his neck intensified into a creeping, uncomfortable chill running down the entire length of his spine. Almost against his own volition, Megamind turned his hesitant gaze downward. He was standing in another puddle, staring into his own wide-eyed reflection.
Megamind slowly tilted his head to glance behind him. Some primal part of his brain pleaded with him not to look, but he did anyway. For the first time he noticed, not just two puddles, but an unmistakable trail of water - a lot of it - splotching the concrete floor of the lair. It began several feet from the monitors, and led all the way to . . . here.
Megamind tore his eyes away from the floor and raised his trembling gaze back to where his friend's suit was lying motionless several yards ahead. His blood ran cold. His heart hammered in his chest.
Realization slammed home.
". . . Minion . . ."
The world upended itself for a moment as the building around Roxanne shook. The cacophony of people screaming, ceramic mugs shattering on the floor, and the breaking of the glass windows seemed to sweep around her like a whirlwind. It all happened so quickly, she only had time to raise one arm to instinctively protect her face.
Though neither she nor Wayne had moved from where they sat, Roxanne felt his hand firmly grip her other wrist upon the table between them.
When everything settled and the world returned to its axis, Roxanne found herself staring at the gaping hole in the café's storefront. The city outside was clouded from view by a thick haze of swirling dust. An eerie silence hung in the air.
Roxanne cautiously stood up. She took a step toward the yawning opening near the entrance - only to feel a firm tug against her wrist. She glanced down at Wayne, who was eyeing her with a cautioning glare.
"Roxanne," he warned.
She would have argued with him if she'd had the time. In the next moment an enormous shadowy shape loomed through the dust outside the broken window. Roxanne directed her attention from Wayne toward the silent, approaching shadow.
When a long, robotic leg, ornamented with sharp spikes, stepped through the haze and into the café, Roxanne's heart skipped a beat in her chest. Her breath caught.
"Megamind?" she said, her voice small and disbelieving.
Wayne must have been shocked as well because his grip loosened and Roxanne's wrist slipped free.
Roxanne's eyes widened as more legs crawled into view and the unmistakable hulking frame of Megamind's spider-bot emerged through the thick dust. Something Minion had said not long ago flashed through her thoughts:
. . . The new stealth modifications on the spider-bot are working well . . .
Oh, god. She had never even heard it approach. She hadn't heard anything until the windows had exploded. And what was probably even scarier: neither, apparently, had Wayne. Roxanne continued to stare at the huge mechanical arachnid in horrified confusion, until the individual operating it pushed the safety harness off his shoulders and stood up in the seat.
Disbelief hit Roxanne like a sledgehammer. She narrowed her eyes at him and blinked.
It wasn't Megamind.
"Owen?"
At first, Owen's only reply was a noticeably smug grin as he struck a rather overly-dramatic pose from the driver's seat of the spider-bot. He rooted his fists to his hips and glared down at her with an air of self-importance. It wasn't until Roxanne blinked a second time that she actually noticed what he was now wearing. The young man's lanky body was swathed in a red spandex bodysuit - or, at least his torso was. His pants were a pair of black, multi-pocketed cargo trousers tucked into a pair of high black work-boots. The other trimmings of his ensemble - from his belt to his gloves to a cape that extended just a bit past the back of his waist - were also a matte black, and he had a pair of what looked like swimmer's goggles perched upon his forehead. His sandy hair curled haphazardly around the lenses. What caught Roxanne's eye most, however, was the beetle with the flame on its shell that emblazoned the front of his bodysuit.
"So, Ms. Ritchi," he drawled, raising an eyebrow, "we meet again."
As opening lines went, that was pretty unoriginal. Roxanne let out an incredulous noise that couldn't quite pass for laughter. Her hands settled on her hips as she glared at him.
"Owen . . . you?" she retorted dubiously. "You're the Beetle-Bomber?"
At that, Owen's entire body visibly bristled. His dramatic pose deflated a bit. "Seriously?" he asked. "That's what you came up with?"
Owen pointed sharply to the emblem on his chest with both hands. "Do you people not recognize a play on words when you see it?" He addressed the entire café, though he scowled directly at Roxanne as he spoke. "It's Fire Bug, okay? Fire-" he spat, pointing to the miniature flame on his outfit. "-Bug!" he concluded as he indicated the beetle. "You'd think the fact that I started all those fires would have made it obvious!"
The young man actually looked like he was sulking. Roxanne made an unimpressed face as she met his eyes again. She crossed her arms and fixed Owen with a stony glare. She wasn't afraid of this guy. For years, she had locked horns with Metro City's resident criminal genius - and she had held her own just fine. She could handle Megamind's fanboy.
"Well, technically," she replied, "you planted bombs." She shrugged. "If you're going to choose to be all cryptic about your identity, Owen, and wait for the public to guess, you might not have too much say about what name you get."
The young man's features went from sulking to venomous. "I told you," he snarled through gritted teeth. "The name . . . is Fire Bug!"
Out of the corner of her eye, Roxanne noticed most of the people in the café were cowering back from the unstable young intruder and the huge robotic spider. Some had ducked behind the counter, while others had hidden beneath tables. No doubt a few had taken refuge in the restrooms. Roxanne was the only one standing.
Roxanne arched an eyebrow at him, keeping her arms crossed challengingly and cocking her weight to one foot. If she managed to stay calm and collected, it might help keep the other people around her from panicking. She took a bold step closer to Owen. "From the looks of things, we can probably find an even better name for you," she offered conversationally. "Like 'Parasite', maybe? The bomb gimmick is one thing, but there's something to be said for a villain who comes up with his own inventions, instead of stealing them from-"
Roxanne froze.
Wait a minute . . .
Her eyes widened and her cutting banter died on her lips. The spider-bot! Roxanne had been so relieved that Megamind hadn't been the one in the driver's seat, that she hadn't stopped to question why someone else was. If Owen had the spider-bot, that meant . . . he had somehow gotten it from the lair. Which meant-
Oh, God.
Owen's gloating smile returned in response to the change in Roxanne's demeanor. At her horrified expression, he rooted his fists back onto his hips and stared down his nose at her. He flashed her a revolting sneer. "You were saying, Ms. Ritchi?"
Roxanne glared up at him with a sudden fury in her eyes. "What did you do?" she demanded.
Owen barked with laughter. It was a high-pitched, straining sound. He shook his head. "If I were you, I'd be a little more concerned about what I'm going to do." He reached down into the bed of the spider-bot, hauled out an imposing ray gun, and trained it on her with both hands. "Don't you think?"
Roxanne's heart felt as though it had leapt into her throat as she stared down the muzzle of the large-barreled weapon. Over the years, she had spent quite a bit of time at the business end of many of Megamind's inventions, but they had never caused her to feel as uneasy as this one did right now. It spoke to the strange sort of trust she had had for her erstwhile kidnapper - even then.
This young man, however, was a different story.
Roxanne still managed to stand her ground against Owen. Her shoulders rose and fell heavily with every breath, but she was determined not to back down. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her sides. She had to keep her wits about her. "I wouldn't be so hasty with that," she warned him. "Some of them have a nasty tendency to backfire on the user." She was taking a slight gamble and she knew it. Owen was wielding a device that she didn't actually recognize from previous experience.
Owen, however, only shrugged. "Oh, I managed to do a little research while Megamind was out," he said. "Of course, his favorite damsel should be pretty familiar with all his stuff," he added with a casual shrug, hoisting the weapon in his hands. "Come on, Ms. Ritchi, you've probably seen most of these in action. Shrink ray, freeze ray, stun gun, mind control device . . ." He leered down at her again. "Tell me: What's this one do?"
Roxanne took a tentative step back. She swallowed hard. Owen was more unstable than she had thought; he was almost manic. She shook her head cautiously. "Can't say that I know, Owen," she replied, attempting to keep her voice calm and even.
Owen frowned again as she insisted on using his real name, but it was quickly replaced by another mad grin. "Oh," he said flatly. "Well, let's find out."
Roxanne didn't even have time to react before he fired.
The solid crack of an impact reverberated through the café. The world surrounding Roxanne spun out of focus. Several screams erupted around her, but Roxanne was conscious of very little else for several endless seconds. When awareness finally caught up with her again, she straightened her body. She didn't remember twisting away from the blast, though, apparently, she had. She lowered her hands from where they had reached up to instinctively shield her head.
As she faced forward again, her view of Owen was blocked by the broad expanse of a wide, muscular back. Her breath caught in her throat.
Wayne.
Roxanne gasped and stared wide-eyed, catching a glimpse of his profile. Wayne's expression was determined, focused, and unfaltering. His Intense Scowl of Justice was back - unmistakable, even beneath the shaggy hair that covered his face. But there was a tense throbbing in his jaw that Roxanne had never seen in the countless times he had rescued her in the past. His eyes, too, were different. They were overly-bright and, underneath the rekindled superhero façade, there was a flicker of something . . .
Fear.
Roxanne felt as though a cold clamp had gripped her heart as she stared at him.
But she knew it wasn't Owen he was afraid of.
Roxanne could practically feel every eye in the café on her - on him. The weight of those stares actually felt palpable, as did the unnatural silence that suddenly hung heavily in the air. In an instant, more than a year of deception was over. The moment Wayne had stepped in front of that blast, he had risked tarnishing Metro Man's golden legacy by publicly exposing his lie to a roomful of citizens.
And he had done it willingly . . . for her.
Wayne had doubted his ability to be a real hero because he had thought he could never truly be brave. Roxanne knew now that he couldn't have been more wrong.
"Oh, Wayne," she whispered.
A hushed silence continued to linger in the café for several more eternal moments. It was finally broken when one quiet, clear voice floated up from somewhere near the back of the room.
"M- Metro Man?"
A steady buzz of disbelieving exclamations followed as the people in the café actually began to realize what they were witnessing. No doubt several of them had even whipped out their camera phones by now.
Wayne, however, did not divert his attention from Owen. He remained every bit the focused superhero. Since there was no need for the disguise any longer, he shrugged himself out of the trenchcoat he had been wearing, tossed his hat aside, and crossed his arms over the broad barrel of his chest. The plain jeans, the simple, white t-shirt, the disheveled hair, and the scruffy jaw created a surreal image, but Wayne stood there impressively, as though he was somehow once again shrouded in the protective comfort of his usual, golden-trimmed ivory armor.
"I'm sorry, Fire Bug," he remarked to the young man before him. "Something tells me the lady isn't too hot to remain in your company." The quip came easily and he flashed his trademark smirk as he spoke, but, Roxanne noticed, Wayne's voice, like his expression, was tight and tense.
Roxanne finally tore her gaze away from Wayne and back to Owen. If it was even possible, her heart began to hammer even faster in her chest. The young man didn't look very surprised, or even scared - at least not for long. If anything, his face now looked positively ecstatic.
He began to laugh. It started low in his throat and developed into an eerie, high-pitched giggle. It was nothing like the villainous, diabolical laughter Megamind had honed over so many years, but it was enough to set Roxanne's teeth on edge.
"I knew it," Owen breathed. His eyes were bright and elated. "I mean, I wasn't completely sure, but . . ." He stabbed a finger pointedly into the air. "Still! I knew it! I knew it was something!" he crowed triumphantly. "This is turning out even more perfect than I could have planned!"
Wayne looked unimpressed by the young man's bluster. "Well, it seems those plans are about to go up in smoke," he said. He uncrossed his arms and pounded one fist into the opposite hand.
Owen smirked and traded the weapon in his hand for another he had stowed beside him in the spider-bot. He raised it to his shoulder. "Good thing I came prepared," he retorted.
This time Roxanne recognized the weapon immediately: the long, cylindrical chamber attached beneath the gun's barrel . . . the swirling, gaseous vapor inside . . . the memory of the raw power of a fiery explosion, frozen and suspended in time . . .
Her eyes widened.
. . . The paradox gun . . .
"No!" Roxanne shouted, almost automatically. "Wayne, wait!" She made a desperate lunge for his arm.
At the same moment, Wayne moved and Owen fired.
The beam hit Wayne in the shoulder as he twisted his body to shield Roxanne. She heard him grunt in confusion and watched as the translucent, milky substance immediately began to spread up and down the length of his left arm. It was enveloped quickly and he held the limb up to his face, staring at it in bewilderment. He tried to clench his fist closed, but seemed to struggle with the movement.
"Wha-" he grunted. "What is this?"
Roxanne looked on in horror as the boa plasma raced over Wayne's body. He met her eyes for a split second, then glanced down to where she was still tightly gripping his other arm. In the final moment before that was covered too, he shook her off, sending her stumbling back into her chair just as he crumpled to the floor.
Startled gasps and protests reverberated through the crowd in the café. Wayne's body was hunched over, and he struggled with the effort to raise himself. Just the simple lifting of his head looked arduous. Shakily, he raised a hand to his temple. He squinted.
Nothing.
He tried again.
Again, there was no reaction.
"I can't use my laser vision," he panted in disbelief. He raised his head to Owen, who was smiling with a ravenous look on his face. Wayne grimaced and attempted to fly at the young man, but didn't get more than a foot off the ground before he was dragged back down to the floor.
Roxanne stared, transfixed and horrified. Megamind's boa plasma had worked after all. Everything Wayne tried to do to break free was negated by the substance that trapped him. It was worse than having a weakness - the plasma used his own strength directly against him. Metro Man was truly helpless.
Owen pressed a button on the spider-bot's controls, opening a hatch and releasing a large claw from deep within its chassis. He aimed it at Wayne.
Roxanne started to climb back to her feet. She glanced to where her purse had spilled over when she had fallen into the chair. She clenched her jaw, reached inside quickly until she found what she needed, then clambered back to a standing position.
Owen made a display of snapping the claw closed and open. He leered down at Wayne, who scowled back at him in defiance. "Guess I'm going home with a prize," the young villain drawled.
Suddenly, Roxanne appeared. She positioned herself between Wayne and Owen, staring at the young man ferociously and raising her balled hands into fists. "If you want him," she spat, "you'll have to go through me."
"Roxanne!" Wayne protested at her back. "Don't!"
Owen, however, simply looked amused. "Wow, feisty," he chuckled. "But, don't worry. I wasn't planning to leave you out."
He pressed a button and the claw shot forward, clamping over her waist and dragging her off her feet. Roxanne cried out as she hurtled forward until she was face-to-face with Owen.
"It just wouldn't be the same without Roxanne Ritchi." He grinned.
Roxanne shot him a fierce scowl as she hung helplessly from the grip of the spider-bot.
Owen pressed a button and unceremoniously dumped her into the narrow space beside the driver's seat. He smirked at her as he added, "Now stay put while I grab your ex."
A moment later, Wayne was tossed into the space beside her. He attempted to raise himself to look at her. "Roxanne," he grunted. "You shouldn't have." Even speaking seemed laborious.
The spider-bot lurched into motion and began crawling out of the café.
Roxanne placed one hand on Wayne's arm, even though he probably couldn't feel it through the plasma. The cold, wet sensation against her fingers made her skin crawl.
"Don't worry," she whispered, hoping the substance didn't prevent him from hearing her. She glared at Owen's profile as he maneuvered the spider-bot out into the city, then she offered Wayne a wry smile and uncurled her other hand from its tightly clenched fist. There was a small, round mark affixed to her palm. The circuitry inside gave off a dim, pulsing shimmer of electric blue.
"Tracking devices may be against the Hero Code," she said, "but I have a feeling we can make an exception in this case."
She only prayed that Owen hadn't done something to prevent Megamind from following it.
He moved without thinking - dashing forward desperately, heedless of the flowers he had dropped and crushed underfoot as he ran. As he closed the distance between where he had been standing and his immobile friend, his massive brain had room for one thought, and one thought only:
. . . Minion . . . Please be all right, please be all right, please be all right . . .
Megamind dropped to his hands and knees and scrambled up the length of the robot suit, pulling himself level with the glass dome at the top.
It was drained. Empty.
. . . Oh, God, no . . .
The fish inside lay among the few remaining drops of water like a discarded tub toy. How long had he been like this? Megamind's thoughts raced desperately, trying to calculate just how long he had been gone. Minion's physiology enabled him to go without water for far longer than the aquatic life native to this planet, but the fact that he wasn't moving, he wasn't gasping, he wasn't struggling, he wasn't doing anything - it was not a good sign.
Megamind shot a frantic glance behind him at the water that trailed through the lair. What could have happened to cause such a horrible malfunction in the suit? And why hadn't Minion called him for help? There should have at least been plenty of time for that.
Megamind followed the macabre trail of water with his eyes - it spattered the floor like a grisly crime scene. Then he glanced toward the area ahead of him. A large industrial sink was affixed to the wall in this room. They rarely used it, but that must have been where Minion was headed when he . . . lost consciousness.
All other thoughts - all questions of why or how this had happened - receded to the furthest corners of Megamind's brain. Only one thing mattered: he needed to get Minion out of there. Now. The old sink on the wall ahead beckoned like a lifeline.
His first thought was of the flip-lid at the very top of the bowl. If he could remove it, perhaps he would be able to squeeze Minion out through the opening. Megamind scuttled up the suit and pressed his fingers against the revolving cap to release the hermetic seal. As it tilted open, he grabbed it firmly in his hand and tried to wrench the rotating hinges free of the dome. Even as he struggled with it, he knew it wasn't going to work; Megamind had originally installed the lid so Minion would easily be able to eat, but he hadn't wanted to risk Minion ever falling, or getting accidentally thrown, out. (Not when evil plans always seemed to have a habit of going unpredictably wrong.)
It wouldn't be possible to remove the lid by hand - he had made certain of that when he had designed it. He would need the right tools, but Megamind didn't know if Minion had that kind of time.
He needed to get the dome off completely.
But the suit was face-down, and the buttons to release the seal were on the chest underneath. With Minion unconscious-
. . . Not dead, not dead, please, God, not dead . . .
-he wasn't capable of establishing his link to the suit to help turn it over. And it was too heavy for Megamind to move by himself. But if there was a way to rouse Minion, to wake him up, even for a moment . . .
Instinctively, Megamind pounded on the glass of the tank with the flat of his hand. The glass was thick; he wouldn't be able to shatter it without significant force. But he knew Minion could feel the concussion that sort of pounding created. Maybe the loud echo and the vibrations inside the dome would be enough to revive him long enough to get him to raise the suit.
"Minion! Minion! MINION!"
Megamind yelled into the tank's speakers until he was hoarse. When the fish didn't respond, Megamind scrambled back around and gripped the robot's shoulder with both hands. He braced himself and pulled with all his might, trying desperately to turn the suit over himself. He let out a long, agonizing wail as he strained against the solid weight of it. Even without the water, the suit wouldn't budge. It wouldn't budge!
Megamind collapsed on top of it with a gasp. He screwed his eyes shut. This wasn't happening! How could this be happening?
Help me! Someone, help me, please!
Megamind raised his watch to his lips. The brainbots were scattered all over the city - patrolling, scanning Roxanne's apartment, keeping watch over the places that had been targeted by the bomber - but maybe . . . maybe there were still some close by.
"Brainbots," he rasped into the watch. "Help. Help me!"
Dead silence answered him. His mind reeled in panic, even as an overwhelming defeat began to settle in his heart. He buried his face in the synthetic fur of the suit. Then a series of soft bowgs could be heard approaching from the far corners of the lair. Three brainbots came to hover over him and Megamind raised his head.
He felt a cold rush upon his cheeks. (His face was wet. When had his face gotten wet?) He scrambled frantically backwards off the suit. "Turn him over," he commanded the 'bots. "Gently!" he added emphatically.
The brainbots did as instructed. Megamind's heart gave an agonized lurch as even the very careful movement still caused Minion's little body to roll and flop bonelessly within the confines of the empty glass dome. When the suit was turned over, Megamind dashed forward to punch frantically at the buttons just below the tank.
. . . Right, left, middle, middle, right . . .
The dome released with a hiss. The airtight seal opened and a few remaining drops of precious water escaped to leak down the robotic gorilla's chest. Megamind's hands trembled as he carefully reached inside and drew Minion out. In all the times Minion had purposely tricked Megamind - faked him out, "played possum" just to get him to smile-
. . . Classic Minion. Classic Minion . . .
-he had never looked or felt like this. He was completely limp, unresponsive. The long appendages of his bothria hung lifelessly beneath him and his skin was so very cold. Megamind swallowed. Minion's skin had always been cold, which was momentarily reassuring, but now it was also unnaturally dry - like delicate sandpaper.
"Minion," Megamind whispered.
He looked at the brainbots. "You!" he commanded the nearest one. "The sink! Turn it on, now!" As the 'bot sailed off ahead of him, Megamind gently cradled his friend's little body in the crook of his arm and ran. Water had begun pouring from the large faucet as he reached the sink, but as Megamind looked down, he saw that the drain had no plug.
Carefully - very carefully - he shifted Minion's weight from one arm to the other and shrugged himself out of the jacket of his navy blue suit.
"Hang on," he said to Minion as he struggled out of the sleeves. Please, hang on.
He balled the jacket up and jammed as much of the fabric as he could down tightly into the drain. The level of the water finally began to rise. Megamind reached forward and gently placed Minion beneath the surface.
He held him there as the water level rose up, first past his wrists, then past his elbows. Soon the arms of his dress shirt were completely saturated. Megamind stared at his friend through the ripples the running water created on the surface. He stroked one thumb lightly over the area between Minion's closed eyes.
"Minion?" he coaxed. His voice was a ragged whisper. "Come on. Come on. Please."
There was no reaction - no shudder of response. Not to the water, not to Megamind's touch, nor to his desperate pleas. There was nothing. Megamind let out an anguished cry and leaned forward into the sink, partially submerging himself as he pressed his forehead to Minion's beseechingly.
"Don't do this," he pleaded. "Please, Minion, don't." He screwed his eyes shut again, gritting his teeth as though he was in physical pain. "You can't leave me," he implored desperately. "I'll be all that's left."
When he couldn't stand it any longer, Megamind slumped to the floor beside the sink, though his hands still stretched upward and cradled his friend beneath the surface of the water. He stayed there as the liquid reached the brim and began to spill intermittently over the side, pooling around his knees.
Kneeling on the floor of the lair, with his head against the cold porcelain of the basin, Megamind wept. It was the first time since his childhood, but even then it had never been like this. It was a sort of crying he never would have imagined himself capable of - too horrible and too profound to produce any sound or even any tears. Noiseless sobs wracked his shuddering body, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and his mouth was open in a gaping, silent rictus of pain.
Megamind knew what it felt like to experience failure. But this . . .
This must be what it truly felt like to lose.
Click here for Chapter 11 Part 1
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-10 07:42 pm (UTC)Going to earlier details of the chapters, I loved the conversation between Wayne and Roxanne. You made Wayne's feelings very realistic, and all he said gave him another layer of depth to my beloved super -what made his later actions even more brave. I loved how he destroyed his secret and his facade to save Roxanne, that moment was very powerful.
OWEN MUST DIE. Or at least suffer A LOT for his crimes! Because the bombs, the fires... I could forgive that, BUT MINION. Who wants Owen's ass very BADLY kicked? *raises hand*
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 12:04 am (UTC)I admit, writing this chapter was very difficult, but believe it or not, that last part was the very first scene I had worked out in my head before this story even started. (And I guess I had the opportunity to make it super-tragic, given how long I've had to work on it.) But try not to worry, sweetie! Remember I told you a little while back: sometimes there's a difference between a "death" and a "death scene!"
I writing loved Wayne's part in this chapter. I've been leading up to his big moment of self-sacrifice for a while, too! I'm so glad you liked it!
*hugs*
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 01:10 am (UTC)Wayne's self-sacrifice was absolutelly gorgeous. He's definitely a hero of heart, and you always know how to love him even more!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 02:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 11:20 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 08:13 pm (UTC)In mine, there was more of a direct sense of immediacy and threat. Wayne didn't have time to consider his actions before doing what he did. (Or maybe he did have time to think about it first - super-speed and all that!) :)
Your version of Wayne certainly reveals his identity on a much larger scale, which is very admirable and heroic!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 10:41 pm (UTC)THANK YOU!!!! Thank you, honestly!!!! You made my night simply with this <333
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 10:56 pm (UTC)*hugs*
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-12 08:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-10 08:56 pm (UTC)HOLY SHHHHH- WOAH! This was tragic! Everything that could possibly have gone wrong, went wrong in one chapter. I don't cry at much of anything, but man did this bring me close. The lump in my throat was choking me!
I was half expecting the Spider-Bot to bring out it's adorable puppy personality and save the day xD I guess Owen turned that part of the robot off.
I loved Roxannes giddness, her moments with Wayne, Wayne's sudden burst of heroism, Owen - Er Fire Bug's sick and immature personality, Megamind's excitement and rant about flowers, and Megaminds sorrow.
Did I just list everything? I think I just listed everything. There wasn't anything about this chapter I did not enjoy <3
Serious cannot WAIT for more, I don't think I've ever meant that as much as right now O_O
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 12:12 am (UTC)I know, it did all go very wrong, didn't it? This was definitely my "rock-bottom" chapter. I'm certainly glad you enjoyed it, even though it was emotionally tough. There were so many moments in here that I also enjoyed writing very much, and you definitely hit on most of them!
It's hard to write something like this chapter and still keep the story in the same realm as the movie. (Ray_wing has certainly been helping very much!) There are a few chapters to go, and I hope the light at the end of the tunnel will be worth it in the end!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 12:28 am (UTC)I really think you pulled it off well. Also, feel free to drag those chapters out, I'm not ready for this too end :'D
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 12:34 am (UTC)Oh, honey, you said it! (I'm a teacher, but we still get homework! All those papers to grade . . . ugh!) I hope that my workload doesn't consume too much of my free time so I can
drag this out as long as possiblekeep writing! :)I'm glad you think I pulled it off! Thanks again!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 12:59 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-10 11:45 pm (UTC)Oh, this absolutely breaks my heart. I'm actually choking up writing this. That last scene was so soul-crushingly sad. The whole thing was sad, really. But oh! I was so hoping Wayne would end up going to the Lair instead of to Roxanne, so that he could be there to help Minion. But instead this.
Poor Megamind! I don't see how he can recover from this and still be himself. Minion was so much a part of him. And having to face a crisis like this while suffering the worst grief he can possibly know? It's horrible. I can't see a true happy ending from here. :( Though, I still can't wait to see where this goes.
Is it sad that I'm still holding out hope for some sort of deus ex machina resolution? ;_;
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 12:24 am (UTC)Due to the wrenching nature of the chapter, it feels a little wrong to say I'm glad you enjoyed it. But to a writer, getting an emotional response like that is also very gratifying. I really hope you do enjoy what's to come, though! *hugs*
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 01:02 am (UTC)Seriously, though, this is an absolutely wonderful story. I was so busy flailing over Minion that I didn't really get into the other stuff. Wayne's appearance, and Roxanne's subsequent mental comment on bravery, was fantastic! Owen is downright scary. Metro Man comes back from the dead to kick your ass, and you just start laughing? Time to run away! And he's just a kid! My hat is off to you, dear. I, too, am hoping your workload doesn't consume all your free time, because this story is one of the two or so that I consider my absolute favorite. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 02:57 am (UTC)I was very partial to the last line, too. And I even got a little weepy myself when I first wrote it. (I got a little desensitized during the revision process, but it was definitely pretty emotional for me in the beginning.)
And a favorite? Really? *twirls you* In that case, I'll try not to break your heart too badly for too long. (There are about 3-4 chapters left, after all!)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-12 02:29 am (UTC)Oh! I meant to say before, but kudos on the marathon! I started running in January and haven't managed more than a couple 5ks A marathon sounds about as possible as running to the moon to me at the moment. So, essentially, you're awesome. XD
(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-12 03:04 am (UTC)And thanks for the kudos, too! This particular marathon was tougher than the others and I've been very slow-moving for the past few days. But I was very happy to have finished!
And, yay! A fellow runner! Good for you! I hope it's something you're enjoying. (You could certainly do a marathon if it's a goal you're interested in. I ran my first one a little less than a year after I started running - not long after I turned 30. To this day, it's still my favorite one!)
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Date: 2011-10-11 12:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 12:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-11 01:07 am (UTC)(Translation: you WIN at writing emotional scenes!)
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Date: 2011-10-11 02:46 am (UTC)I'll try not to leave you hanging too long!
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Date: 2011-10-11 04:38 am (UTC)I'm going to come out and say what no one else is saying. I don't think Minion is dead. I'm just going to say it. Because if he was dead you would have used the word dead and you didn't use the word dead.
Now that it is out of the way.
This is fucking lovely. Everyone else has hit on all the great things that happen for the plot and characters. But what really impressed me here was the pacing. It manages to pick up off a massive cliffhanger and yet start with these slow normalized character interactions where Megs talks about his feelings and we are so happy for his very important realizations BUT SERIOUSLY PEOPLE MINION IS IN TROUBLE!
Then Roxanne gets to be a bantering BAMF as the tension raises with Owen and we get our hopes up when Wayne gets all into hero mode, only to have it come crashing down with Megs sobbing hysterically and the reader wondering if Minion could possibly be ok.
Nice. *narrows eyes and nods* Very Whedonesque.
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Date: 2011-10-11 08:31 pm (UTC)Sweetie, you flatter me so much. As I mentioned a few times, this was a terribly difficult chapter to write. Even though I knew exactly what would happen from the beginning, actually writing the text out was very tough. (Not just because it was so emotional, but I really wanted it to be done right.) To know you liked it means the world!
This may sound a little strange, but some of my favorite parts of this chapter were actually the section breaks. The pacing was one of the things that really fell into place for me here, so to see that you felt that way too is very gratifying. *hugs*
And I suppose I was tipping my hat a bit to Joss with this chapter. Even though there was no actual quote, I feel that I owe you a cookie! So, my dear, enjoy! :)
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Date: 2011-10-12 07:05 am (UTC)And I am enjoying the HELL out of that cookie. That may be my favorite video of theirs to date. Plus it made me remember that they have a new album coming out and now I am SO EXCITED and have evil plans to procure it from Target on the day it is released (mmmwahhahah).
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Date: 2011-10-11 05:13 am (UTC)I figured Owen would end up being the bomber, but I didn't expect to actually feel scared of him. (tho that issue of his name was kinda amusing) Wayne getting hit with the paradox gun I did not expect at all.
You're really good at setting up atmosphere, I always see everything play out in my mind's eye very vividly, and this chapter in particular is such a perfect example of that. Just the image of Megamind wandering around the lair, stepping in puddles and then slowly realizing where the puddle is from... DDD: I have no words.
This is just lovely, I'm gonna go cry into my pillow until you update. D':
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Date: 2011-10-11 08:48 pm (UTC)Yes, Owen came out a little darker than I had intended him to be at first. But I definitely feel that if a story is going to be worth much of anything, its villain needs to have a few meaningful layers. (And actually pose a threat.) Otherwise, it's just a one-dimensional caricature, rather than a character. And how is struggling against something like that supposed to build up the hero? But I also tried to be careful not to make Owen into some kind of OC super villain. He doesn't make his presence known until he has Megamind's stuff to back him up and/or hide behind. So, essentially, he's still a wannabe; he's not his own man.
Oh, the puddle scene broke me when I was writing it. That was how I knew it had to go in! As for the paradox gun, I dropped a subtle hint about how it might be used in Chapter 2, but it's nice to know (although many people did predict the villain) that I can still manage a surprise or two! :)
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Date: 2011-10-12 03:19 am (UTC)The way he cried-I keep thinking of how his face looks smushed up against the glass in prison as he says, "I-am-sorry." It's gruesomely sad.
And I keep picturing blue-tipped white tulips. Do they have a meaning in flower language?
I like how your Roxanne is more thoughtful than in many fics, not wanting to blithely assure Wayne that everything's okay. She's like the movie Roxanne, not too cartoony, more like a real person. Although I so cheer for her unflinching banter! Why didn't she grab her cell phone too? I keep imagining her calling Megs and getting the message, "Sorry, he's unavailable to take any calls right now. His pet fish just died and he's feeling a bit depressed..." LOL
I knew Owen was the bad guy-tho' I didn't guess 'Fire Bug', but...I do hope for more depth to him. Right now he seems too much the stereotypical insane bad guy.
I forgot about the paradox gun, so Wayne getting hit (cheers for his decision to throw off his cloak of anonymity to save Roxanne) took me by surprise, although I think I assumed he would at some point, by how you said it was a weapon Megs had never tried to use on him. And crap-I just remembered the only way to get something out is to blow it up! Help...
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Date: 2011-10-12 03:57 am (UTC)I'm glad you liked that bit with the puddles. I was trying to go for one of those moments in TV or movies where you totally know something the characters don't, and it just makes you want to yell at the screen for them to listen to you! I'm happy that moment seemed to come across that way.
I haven't done much with Owen up to now, other than show his crazy side, and his dorky alter-ego. So I'm hoping that, when he actually gets some screen-time
to monologuein the next few chapters, you'll see more actual layers to him.Yeah, Megs did say that the only ways to get something out after using the paradox gun were messy. Whether that will be a problem for someone like Wayne remains to be seen! I'm happy you're enjoying the story, dear, and I hope you like what's to come!
(And, no, I didn't find any official meanings for those flowers. Although I'm sure Megs assigned his own meaning to them!) :)
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Date: 2011-10-12 07:34 pm (UTC)(I am not going to comment too much on Minion...I know that scene is not over!)
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Date: 2011-10-12 09:07 pm (UTC)Yes! Good call! It's actually Megs's weapon that does it! (One person sent me a note at FF.N and asked how Owen came up with a weapon that could defeat Metro Man, and I kept thinking, 'Um, he didn't. Megamind did.')
And double-yay for fanart ideas! If you feel so inspired, I would certainly be thrilled!
I know that scene is not over!
No, it isn't. ;)
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Date: 2011-10-13 05:20 pm (UTC)Like many others, this chapter really, really hit me as a shock. I told myself at the end of the last one "No, don't worry, she wouldn't actually kill off Minion", and it's still not explicitly stated that he's dead, but I've been given false hope by that in stories before
and you are a Whedonite, so I really don't know what to expect now!I also didn't forsee the plasma gun actually being used against Wayne (silly me for not spotting the Chekhov's Gun), but it certainly does make the situation more urgent.
I'm on the edge of my seat for the next chapter!
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Date: 2011-10-14 08:08 pm (UTC)Thanks for the lovely words, as always, dear! I'm woefully behind on reading (*sigh* again), but I did see that you've posted Chapter 3 of your story! So you'll certainly be hearing from me again very soon!
(PS - Oh, Joss Whedon, what a bad influence you are!)
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Date: 2011-10-19 04:20 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-10-19 10:13 am (UTC)