This flashfic is a fill of this prompt:
Megamind grew up in prison, and doesn't really seem to mind going back there on a regular basis, probably because it's the closest thing to a home he's ever had. Prison food is probably his version of Mom's home cooking.
But now he's the good guy, and good guys don't go to prison. So...I'd like to request a flashfic of Megamind feeling a little nostalgic for prison life, or even outright homesick.
He should be happy.
He had everything he's ever wanted; the girl of his dreams, the acceptance he was denied so cruelly as a child, and the adoration of Metro City.
He even had more constructive ways to use his intellect now. Being good actually stretched his brain- after all, there are only so many ways to build a death machine. But there were countless things to improve upon- public transportation, water supply, police and fire department coordination- there was always something to be done.
So, he should be happy... right?
Yet, while absentmindedly tinkering on a brain bot damaged in his latest heroic battle, Megamind couldn't help but feel the slightest twinge of sadness. It felt as if he was missing... something.
"But what on Earth could it be?" he asked himself. "What more could I want?" He sighed, pushing away from his workbench with a dramatic furl of his cape. Megamind let his feet carry him across the lair, not even thinking of where he wanted to go. He just needed to do something to clear his head.
"Perhaps I'll call Roxanne," he mused. "She always knows what to do." The star reporter seemed to know all the things he didn't, like how to pronounce words like shool and where the last place he left his cape was. After all, she was the smartest human he knew.
Megamind was brought out of his thoughts when he realized that his wandering had led him to the Wall. The Wall was the place Megamind put everything that didn't need the utmost attention at the time- half formed plans, sketched out blueprints, unsolved formulas- it was also a place for pictures and cut out articles that he deemed important enough for remembering. Among those was the front page article published the day after Megamind's victory over Tighten, captioned 'Villain Turned Hero?'. Next to that was a picture of Roxanne and himself, and next to that was...
Metro City Prison.
It was a picture of him shaking the Warden's hand at the doors of the prison- a sort of peacemaking guesture toward the old man.
His heart twinged oddly at the sight. He reached out a gloved hand, unpinning the photo from the wall. He studied it closer, finding that he could recall every hallway and every cell block in that building, including the names of each of the guards that had worked there over the years, without a second's thought. He knew every inch of that prison. Somehow, that realization brought a sense of longing bubbling up to the surface.
Megamind stepped back, eyes glued to the picture, until he found the familiar comfort of his leather chair. He collapsed into it, letting himself sink into memories of years ago.
He missed his prison cell walls that at times seemed to close in on him from all sides.
He missed the security of a rigid schedule- breakfast at 6:00, lunch at 12:30, exercise at 3:00, dinner at 6:30, lights out at 9:15.
He missed hearing the comforting voices of his Uncles yelling and talking between cells late at night when he was growing up.
He missed the food; every day it was the same indistinguishable slop that no one questioned the ingredients of, because it was probably better not to know.
He missed all of it.
Prison was where he was raised, where he grew up, where he would go back to every day after school.
It was where his family was.
It was the one place he could really count on. Lairs could be created and destroyed, hideouts could be found and compromised, but prison was where he always returned to. It was the only place that would always be there.
It was safe.
It was home.
Before he fully realized what he was doing, he had pulled out his phone and hit the speed dial for Roxanne. It rang three times before the other line picked up and he heard a playful, "Ollo?"
"Roxanne, I...-" He trailed off, eyes sliding back down to the picture.
"Megamind?" The voice on the other end took on a concerned tone. "Is something wrong?"
"I-I think there may be. I have been stricken with the inexplicable longing for my old prison cell, and I don't know why."
"Alright, that's okay," Roxanne replied, her voice comforting to his ears. "What exactly are you feeling?"
He gripped the picture tighter and sighed. "I feel like there's something missing- as if I want to go back to jail, because that's the only thing that will fill this emptiness."
"Why do you want to go back?"
"It's..." His throat tightened and his voice thickened. "It's all I've ever known."
"I think I know what it is." she said. He waited, silently prompting her to continue. "You're homesick, Megamind."
"Home-sick?" he asked. "Is it some kind of illness? Is there a cure?"
"No, it's not that type of sickness. It's when you miss your home."
As usual, Roxanne was right, because the term 'homesick' sounded like it quite suited what he was feeling. "So, there is no cure?"
She chuckled. "No. You just have to give it time. It'll get better soon."
"And then it will be gone? I won't get it again?"
"Not quite. You'll always feel it, just a little. Sometimes it will get worse, other times you'll hardly feel it at all."
"Oh." He frowned. "I don't like this home-sickness. It's... unpleasant."
"Yeah," she agreed, sounding slightly sad as well. "But hey, I have an idea. Why don't I come over and we can reminisce about the old days, huh?"
Megamind smiled. "That sounds fantastic."
After all, if there was anyone who made Megamind feel at home no matter where he was, it was Roxanne Ritchie.