Megamind had not meant to sleep in as late as he had. By the time he awoke the next day, it was nearly noon, and his mouth felt like it was full of cotton. He groaned and tried to get himself up, finding that he was not even capable of rolling onto his side due to his broken ribs.

"Miniiioooon?" he called tentatively.

There was no answer. He glared at the ceiling and glanced over at the tank to be sure Minion wasn't inside it.

A small catfish glowered back at him, just sitting there without moving. It was kind of creeping him out, so he looked away. "Brainbots!"

Three entered the room shortly, buzzing curiously around him.

"Help Daddy into his chair. Carefully."

Obediently, they lifted him enough to awkwardly clamber into the wheelchair. It was then he saw the note beside his bed, dangling from the ceiling by a bit of string.

"Gone to the store? Eh." Megamind shrugged, and glanced at his brainbots. "One of you stay with me to help push. You other two just go back to what you were doing."

With the remaining help he was able to get over to his drawing board, plucking a pencil out of the cup with the hand that was just restricted by the wrist brace. He wouldn't be able to draw for long, but hopefully he could get a start on the blueprints for a more heroic venture than his previous inventions.

Ten minutes later had the basic layout for a set of power boots and a cape made of a much more durable fabric he theorized could be made synthetically. He handed them to the brainbot and instructed him to hang them. It always seemed better to hang his various ideas; they became all that much clearer. With his head feeling so fuzzy from the plethora of medications he was on, he could use all the clear he could get.

As that was being done he cast another glance over at the tank, where the fish still sat, staring at him with cold, fishy eyes. He shuddered and grimaced.

Then he looked up and recoiled in horror. His blueprints, when superimposed, formed the unmistakable face of one Roxanne Ritchie. With a frustrated yelp he scooted his chair closer inch by inch, grasping the first within reach and tearing it from the string. It crumpled in his hand. He took down the other two plans as well, wadding them into a ball with the rest. He rested his hand atop the papers, catching his breath after the exertion.

He turned and glowered at the fish, who was still staring at him. "What?"

He made his way over to the tank and poked the glass. "Stop that! You're creepy!"

The fish swam back a ways, then stopped and stared at him again.

"Ugh. I seriously don't get you. You can't even say anything," he grunted, tapping the tank again. "I don't know what he sees in you. You don't look that unusual; I imagine your brain capacity is fairly low even."

He tapped his chin, looking back to the still-dangling strings. "I wonder how much you can actually talk to him about..." A sudden fear hit him in the chest.

"You won't tell, him, right? Oh geez, I'm sorry I called you creepy! I mean, you are, but I'm sorry anyway!" His face was plastered against the glass.

"Promise you won't tell!"

The fish just floated there, silent and judgmental.

He glared at her. "Fine, I'll make sure you can promise then. Brainbots!"

An hour later Megamind sighed and looked at his handiwork, floating in the bowl in a daze. It really hadn't been as hard as he had expected. It would be a little bit before she was capable of vocalizing, but overall it had been successful. Any minute now the suppressing drugs would wear off and her body would go through the transformations necessary to facilitate what he needed of her. As a bonus, she would be more suitable company for Minion, though he imagined that Minion would soon lose interest in her.

That would suit him just fine. Minion was his companion first, after all. He grunted, typing one-handed onto his computer console to be sure it was monitoring her vital signs. If anything happened, the brainbots would be more able to handle it than he would, with his lowered dexterity and her surprisingly painful defenses.

He rubbed his hand where she had stung him with the hollow spine running through her top fin. He had to admit, she was at least a little feisty. She had that going for her.

He yawned, feeling a little tired from even the small amount of activity. He'd already had the brainbots bring his mattress and blankets down, thinking it wise to station them closer to the bathroom. He headed off to have a nap, leaving the fish to incubate a transformation under the influence of sedatives and painkillers.

"Oh Sir...What have you done..." Minion's voice sounded mournful.

Megamind snorted and looked up at his fishy friend, rubbing his eyes with the back of a hand. "What?"

"I...Sir. This is wrong." Minion held a bowl in his hands.

"Why? I just made her better able to communicate," Megamind said, struggling into a sitting position.

"With who? I could talk to her just fine!" Now the fish looked angry.

"Oh come on, she's just a dumb fish. She can't have been much for deep, intellectual stimulation..." He snorted.

"That isn't the point! She's hurting now. You hurt her! Look!" Minion proffered the bowl, where the madtom was hovering near the bottom, curled in on herself and twitching. "She is my friend."

"In my evil lair!" Megamind countered, though the sight of her made him want to cringe. He hadn't really thought of the process as being that painful. For some reason it had just not occurred to him.

"What is wrong with you?" Minion whispered, horrified. Without waiting for an answer he stomped up the stairs to the bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

Megamind watched him go in stunned silence. How could he not have realized how important this one silly Earth fish was to Minion? He must be losing his mind. How could he do that to her, not knowing that it would hurt her? He had never hurt anyone before; he had even avoided hurting animals. His boots weren't real baby seal leather, after all; they were just made by a company called Sealz. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Minion!" he called, trying to get up and follow him. His broken leg begged to differ, dumping him directly on his side where he curled on the floor, hissing in agony. Everything that was broken, bruised, or fractured made itself very plainly known that it was still in such a state. He lay there for several minutes, listening to his breath and the terrible silence Minion had left in his wake.

"Minion?" he called tentatively, getting no answer. With a frown he managed to roll over and drag himself back onto his mattress. He groaned and laid back, staring up at the rafters. This was just great. He reached under his pillow and pulled out the crumpled papers, smoothing them out and staring at his handiwork. Drawings could never compare to her actual face.

He suddenly felt the whole idea of getting the fish to promise not to tell Minion was possibly one of his worst ideas ever.

Minion gently tipped the bowl so it spilled both fish and water back into the larger tank, trying not to jolt her any more than he had to. She thrashed in the more open water, sinking down to the soft mud on the bottom and wriggling down into it as though to bury herself. Minion sighed and rested a metal hand against the tank.

"I'm so sorry..." he murmured.

Her mouth moved in the dirt, but he couldn't hear what noises she was making. Minion paused and looked up at the light, reaching over and pulling the chain to turn it off. Then, with only slight hesitation, he reached into his bowl and pulled his body out, slipping into the tank quietly.

He rested a tendril on her back. "Just stay still."

"Ah...hhh..." she rasped through a throat just beginning to be able to make sound.

"Shh, stay quiet. I know it hurts; it happened to me too." Minion grimaced in sympathy. Granted, when this had been done to him he had been much, much younger. Too young to remember being any other way. "It's better if you stay quiet, it'll be over in about an hour."

Her whimper was heart wrenching. She squirmed deeper into the mud, her fins quivering as they changed. Minion swallowed, knowing this could very well kill her. She was older, fully formed and grown. It was going to be worse for her.

Minion had been genetically modified when he was just hatched, having barely formed, and with a yolk sac still attached to his belly even. His bones, still soft at that stage, had molded much more fluidly to what was required of him. His skull had grown to accommodate his larger brain, mutating the rest of his body around it. It had been incredibly painful, he recalled, but it was a very vague memory. That had occurred almost half a year before he had met Sir and bonded to him through some instinctual need that drove him to protect him. Now he understood better that the modifications had programmed him to do just that; bond with the first suitable being he came into familiar contact with. It was why Sir's parents had avoided spending extended periods of time with him.

Now all he could do was lay a tendril on this poor fish's back and hope that Sir had not botched the job.