The air explodes.
That, first of everything.
Vision shattering into black shards fracturing the world apart and—
oh fuck
And then his body is flying through the fragmenting air, gravity opening up like the black-hearted void it is and sucking his consciousness down and
The cold concrete floor slams into him as if he and the Earth had been on intersecting trajectories and every bit of thought and light and life evaporates from his body with the breath from his lungs and he is gone gone gone
A voice, in the void, screaming his name and
Hands on his body, life rushing in and bringing only pain and
Roxanne's face, a grimace of tears and wide, wet eyes, and smoke-smeared skin and bared teeth. Her hand, on his chest, heavy as worlds and her voice, frantic—
She's on the phone, he can hear the static and sparking of a speaker on the floor near him and Minion's voice—
Minion?
Swollen eyelids blink—stick—un-blink
Minion's in Romania.
Oh.
She has Minion's number; of course she has Minion's number.
The void is rising to claim him again, and nothing these high panicking voices are saying can snatch him back from the jagged teeth that slice through the world to close around him.
His eyes unfocus, lingering on Roxanne's face, her lips shaping words his ringing ears cannot decipher.
This bleary world is dark—dark—
dark
Megamind wakes slowly, the heavy world tilting around his rising consciousness.
He's...soft, somewhere soft, and warm, and there is a hand lying across his ribs. Lifting with each breath he takes. A sound: the soft shuffle of a turned page.
His eyes open. The world blurs, swaying, but he's—on a bed, in a dark room. There's a door open, golden light pouring in from the hall beyond.
There is a scent, all around him, subsuming every pore, a scent he would recognize even on his death bed.
(is...is he on his death bed?)
The faint and very expensive scent of genuine rose presume, and the even fainter scent of the slightly-astringent, not-quite-grapefruit shampoo and—ohhhh, oh no—he cannot stop himself from inhaling deeper of the sharper, toe-curling, deliciously captivating, warm musk of her sweat, her body.
Roxanne.
He is in a nest of soft rumpled blankets on Roxanne's bed.
The hand lying across him is Roxanne's he is in Roxanne's apartment ON ROXANNE'SBED—
Megamind bolts upright, staggers to one side and falls over, unweildy limbs tangling, balance a strangely foriegn concept to his body, the movements wrong, all wrong—
A face looms in his vision, eclipsing the world.
ROXANNE.
"It's okay!" She reaches for him and draws her hands sharply back when the wide-blown eyes and strange throaty noise he makes give away his panic. "It's okay," she says again, soft and swift, "Megamind, it's okay. You're okay! You're not hurt, you're just—"
But the panic will not release his thinking brain from the needle-sharp claws digging into him and he scrambles away from her, pure primal instincts screaming. His feet tangle with her sheets and the soft things she'd nested him in—
(pajamas, fucking ROXANNE'S FUCKING PAJAMAS)
—and he tips over the side of the bed, still scrambling for a hold, misjudging entirely his own body's position in accordance with the edge and—
Two paws of blue-gray fur, every long toe spread wide, dark needly claws clutching at the sheets and his back legs flailing for purchase against thin air as his tails whips around, trying to balance him and his eyes bug out of his head—
Oh, he thinks, and the sheet slips and he goes over the side. Oh, no.
Then Roxanne's hands fill his view and her fingers close around his ribcage and she hauls him up, before he hits the floor, but the panic is still tightly gripping him and his back legs kick wildly, finding purchase at last in the soft flesh of her inner arm and she yelps but the hands around him remain gentle, careful.
She settles him gently on the bed beside her. She'd dove across it to catch him and is now laying on her side. She tries to release him, wincing, but his heart is going to hammer its way right out of his chest and he is hyper-aware of his rapid breathing and unable to control his limbs, unable to retract the claws clinging to her flesh.
I'm a cat!
The words ring in his head in his own voice, screechy with panic and somehow tinged with outrage.
"Oh, good," she says, a fervent breathy prayer. "I can hear you. Minion wasn't sure. Yes," Roxanne adds, softly. "Yes, you are, I know. It's okay. It's okay, Megamind. Minion says he knows how it probably happened and he says he knows how to fix it. Okay? Yes? It's temporary."
Her soothing tone finally begins to get through to him. Megamind takes a breath, tries to slow the rapid pounding of his heart.
Manages at last to release his claws from Roxanne's skin.
Of all the days for this to happen!
Of course Roxanne was there when everything went sideways and cat-shaped.
He glances around, imperious and humiliated and bristling with it. Why am I here?
"Minion's in Romania," Roxanne says, scooting to the edge of the bed to sit beside him, watching his face carefully. "He didn't want to give me any details but said it's really important and that he thought you'd rather he stay there until he's done helping—whoever it is he's there to help."
Ah. Yes. Megamind feels another measure of tension release its hold on him and float away.
They have a...contact, in Romania, an ally. He remembers now, remembers the mission Minion is away on.
Roxanne picks up on his minute relaxation and relaxes a bit more herself.
"So..." She breathes, looking down at her hands in her lap, wincing at the mangled wounds and then looking away again. "So, he said you should stay here and asked me to—look after you until he gets back."
There falls a silence. Megamind stares up at Roxanne. Roxanne stares down at Megamind.
Suddenly he bursts out with, Why aren't you UPSET about this! This is WEIRD, Miss Ritchi! I. AM. A. CAT! Why aren't you freaking out about this?
Roxanne blinks at him, clearly nonplussed. "Well, I mean. I guess my standard for weird is...non-standard?" She quirks a smile at him. "Besides, you've done far weirder things. Like the Improbability Drive, when we all turned into—"
Megamind is on his feet instantly, an outraged yowl bursting out of him, startling them both. Miss! Ritchi! WE ALL AGREED never to speak of that incident!
Her smile slips into a smirk. "There's also the whole...Equstrinator...thing. And the Bootwheel of Death. And the—"
Alright, alright! His tail, which had obviously come equipped with a mind of it's own, thrashed around behind him like an angry snake.
She reaches out one hand to carefully touch the tip of it. "We'll need to get some...you know, cat things."
A pause—Megamind slits his eyes at her finger, touching the tip of his tail.
Yes, that thing definitely came equipped with a mind of its own because that single fingertip holding it pinned to the bed is incredibly infuriating.
He twitches his tail tip out from underneath it. Roxanne makes a noise like smothered laughter.
"So," she says brightly, "want to come to the pet store with me?"
Megamind shuts his eyes.
Evil heavens what has he gotten himself into?
What heinous acts had tipped his universal karma so far off balance to deserve—
There is a tug on the tip of his tail.
His eyes flick open in outraged shock. Roxanne is smirking at him, biting one cheek to keep it from slipping into a grin.
His heart skips, plummets.
How is he supposed to survive this?
And he is imposing unforgivably on Roxanne. His ears droop. Miss Ritchi...you don't have to do this. I'm sure—Minion worries, you see, but there are other places I could go. Arrangements that could be made.
Roxanne's face—closes, all ease and warmth shuttered away with startling rapidity. "Oh," she says, in a very small voice, then sits up straight, settling her hands in her lap. He winces at the livid red scratches on her pale skin. "You...don't want to stay here. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have presumed..." She shakes her head, mouth turning down. "Of course you don't want to stay here. I'll—I can call anyone you want me to. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...brought you here, I—"
No! It isn't—it's not that, I'm grateful that you—brought me here, that you...helped me. It's—I can't impose on you! His lips wrinkle back from his teeth. Miss Ritchi, I'm the supervillain; the bad guy! I kidnap you! Surely you can't want me here. Even like this. His gaze sweeps down his body; the long, thin legs, the whippy tail, the oddly large paws. Especially like this.
(of course even as a cat he looks like a freak)
Roxanne draws a sharp breath as if in pain, then lets it out slowly. "Megamind," she says quietly, carefully, "I want you to stay."
Megamind's eyes snap to her face, his jaw falling open in shock.
He remembers, suddenly, from the long ago time of five minutes before, when he'd awoken with her hand resting across his ribcage.
Roxanne regards him through suddenly narrowed eyes.
"Where would you go, anyway?" she asks.
Megamind thinks of Dr. Kelley and the Warden.
Megamind thinks of his prison uncles.
Megamind even thinks of the Doom Syndicate.
And Roxanne, watching his face, says, "Please stay here. I want you to stay here. You don't have to. But I want you to."
Megamind sighs.
(Evil Gods help him, he's never really been able to refuse her anything)
All right. I'll—stay.
Roxanne medicates and carefully bandages the bleeding slashes on her arm before they head out and changes into a long sleeve sweater and Megamind wants to die and Roxanne's repeated reassurance only increases his guilt.
The pet store itself is...not the most awkward experience of his life, but standing in the fucking litterbox aisle with Roxanne Ritchi is a scenario that will haunt his nightmares to the end of his days.
After the pet store they return to the apartment, Roxanne burdened with very full bags and bulky packages containing, (they hope), everything needed to see him through for the unknown weeks until Minion's return.
They emerge from the elevator, Megamind trotting at Roxanne's heels, slowing and stopping at the weird plant in a gleaming plastic bucket halfway down the hall. Not only do the leaves smell particularly...enticing...but there is an oddly sharp, pungent odor he can't quite identify.
A roar behind him, like a beast from the deepest hell, and his body shoots into the air, all four legs sticking straight out, every hair standing on end as if he's been struck by lightning.
At her door, Roxanne turns sharply, nearly dropping her keys, to see Megamind with his eyes bugging out of his head, hurtling down the hallway towards her. Every hair on his skinny body standing on end, more bristle brush than cat, with that damn dog hot on his heels.
Her neighbor, Mrs. Fitzwilliam's mongrel monster mutt Bailey, snapping and snarling, flecks of foamy saliva flying everywhere, gaining on Megamind with every bound.
Roxanne flings her purchases aside and drops to her knees, arms wide, and Megamind leaps at her, claws sinking into her shoulder. She shoots to her feet before the dog reaches her, holding Megamind with both hands, trying to fend off the jumping dog with her knees.
Mrs. Fitz calling softly, fake-innocent, "Smoochum, here Smoochum, here Bailey, come here, the kitty doesn't want to play darling."
"Play?!" Roxanne's heart is pounding just as hard as Megamind's. "Your damn dog wants to eat him!"
Mrs. Fitz pretends not to hear her, as usual, the dog trotting back to her proudly, head held high to receive the happy scratches bestowed upon him.
Jesus. Roxanne turns away in disgust, retrieving her keys and their things and soothing Megamind at the same time.
"You're okay, it's okay sweetheart, I'm not going to let him get you."
What was that thing?! Panting in her arms. She can feel his heart pounding against his ribs. She strokes his back, smoothing down the fur behind his ears. Pushes the door open with her hip, dumping the bags and packages in her foyer and leaning heavily back against the door with her butt to slam it.
"Bailey, he's a Chihuahua mix—"
Mixed with what? Grizzly bear? Dragon?
"—ill manners, spoiled upbringing, no boundaries. If he's not snapping and jumping on me, then he's humping my leg; he pees on anything that sits in the hallway for more than two seconds—I fantasize about dog-napping him, driving him out to the middle of the country and dumping him on the side of the road.."
Roxanne throws the deadbolt and carefully sets him on the floor. Megamind forces himself to let her put him down, to refrain from clinging to her with claws—clinging to her even more with claws; she's going to have slash marks on her shoulder now to match the ones on her arm, wonderful, as if he didn't feel guilty enough already.
Roxanne crouches next to him as he sits up straight, wraps his tail tightly around his paws.
"You okay?" she asks.
I'm fine.
Roxanne chews her lip, fingers twitching with the instinct to stroke his fur again, quickly suppressed. Megamind isn't actually a cat, and it had been hard enough just to get him to agree to stay here in the first place; she doesn't need to make him even more uncomfortable with the whole situation than he already, clearly, is.
"You sure?" she asks, instead of petting him. "I don't like it when that thing jumps at me, and I'm person-sized."
Perfectly. Fine. Tail tip swishing, eyes narrow, and then he stands and turns, walks away towards the living room. You should take care of your shoulder.
Roxanne blinks. Her—?
"Oh. Um. Okay. You, uh. Make yourself at home and I'll set this stuff up and...make dinner."
Which is coming out of a can for him.
Turkey Giblets in Gravy.
Evil Gods help him.
As far as his cat body is concerned, Turkey Giblets in Gravy is
FAN
FUCKING
TASTIC.
He's got his lips peeled back in disgust as Roxanne cracks open the lid, places the open can on the counter for him. With preemptive distaste, he edges towards the thing, gives it a very dubious sniff, and—
Roxanne jerks her hand back sharply, just in time, as Megamind attacks the can of cat food.
Face shoved into the tin, horking the stuff down so quickly she's genuinely concerned he might choke, snarling under his breath the entire time, as if he's worried she's going to take it from him or something. She stands, wide-eyed, watching as he devours it, chasing the can across the counter when it gets empty enough to start to slide away from him, shreds of cat food flying.
He makes quick work of it, then sits next to the spotlessly clean can, licking fastidiously between wide-spread toes while Roxanne surreptitiously picks off flecks of Turkey Giblets in Gravy from her uneaten pizza and stares at the visible bulge of his full cat belly.
Jesus.
Well, at least they won't have to worry about feeding him while he's like this. Roxanne gives the top of her pizza slice a quick swipe with a napkin before taking a bite.
Megamind might think that Turkey Giblets in Gravy is the ideal dinner, but she'd rather take his word on that.
Dinner over, Megamind's empty can in the trash and her plate in the sink, Roxanne settles onto the couch, with the excuse of a book open in front of her unseeing eyes.
For the first time since the machines had exploded and Megamind's body had vanished in a cloud of fire and shrapnel, Roxanne shuts her eyes and just. Breathes
She'd thought he was dead.
He might have been, for a moment.
Or it might've been the delayed effects of the transformation. Minion hadn't been sure.
But when she'd knelt by the little blue-gray body and touched the skinny little chest his heart hadn't been beating.
She's going to have nightmares about it for the rest of her life.
He's okay now, she tells herself for the thousandth time. He's okay, he's okay. It's—just going to be weird for a while but he's okay and you can do this.
It'll even be fun.
Megamind is a lovely cat. He looks sort of like an Oriental (she did some cat-research googling on her phone while he was sleeping). Long and thin and whippy, every bit of him: legs and body and tail. His appetite at dinner was encouraging, because she's pretty sure you're not supposed to be able to count all the knobs in the spine of any cat. (Which raises some...worrying questions about actual Megamind's actual body.)
His head is still overly large, even compared to similar-looking cat breeds she looked up, but it suits him nicely, especially framed as it is with the overly large—frankly, enormous—ears on either side. His eyes, too, are still overly large, and luminously green. The tantalizingly silky-soft fur is a not-quite-implausible shade of gray-blue.
She'd brusquely fended off several would-be admirers in the pet store. No he doesn't like to be petted no you can't say hello yes he does bite.
The checkout girl had asked his name, and Megamind and Roxanne had stared blankly at each other for a moment before she blurted out Spike.
Even with all of that, though, the pet store had been—fun. Mostly. The litterbox aisle had been supremely awkward—Megamind had insisted that he could just use the toilet, and Roxanne had agreed, even as she shoved the fanciest electronic automatic litterbox on offer into the cart you know, also, just in case.
But she'd liked picking out cat beds together, and the toy aisle—
From the direction of the bathroom, a screeching yowl pierces the silence of her apartment, followed immediately by a SPLASH.
Oh god. Just use the toilet.
Fuck.
Roxanne hides her face in the book trying to smother laughter and peeks up a second later to see a very wet Megamind stalking towards the closet, head down, ears flat to skull, leaving a trail of water behind him like a large four-legged and very angry snail.
There is a long silence, and then another crash and feline yowl and the scrambling sounds of claws on plastic, the pattering rain of litter pellets against walls and floor.
Roxanne snorts and clamps one hand to her mouth, heart fluttering like a hummingbird, shoulders quivering and ribs aching with suppressed giggling.
After a moment she hears, Very funny, Miss Ritchi.
Roxanne, still holding back laughter behind book, trying to give him his dignity, says, "...Do you want a bath?"
...Yes.
She finally peeks up; he's sitting on the floor in between bathroom and closet, looking into the distance with the clearest expression of long-suffering rage that she's ever seen on a feline face.
He's wet, soaked to the skin and covered head-to-toe in clumps of litter.
Roxanne gasp-laughs, quickly attempts to smother, trying to stop, can't and breaks at last into loud and full-throated hyena cackling.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry oh god—oh my god you fell in the litter; you fell into the litter—" gasping for breath as she can't stop laughing. "Oh god, you fell in the toilet twice no wonder you're so pissed!"
Baleful green eyes narrow into slits and Roxanne realizes her inadvertent pun, and cackles even harder.
Megamind flicks his tail, casting loose bits of litter aside, and stalks, with wounded dignity, back into the bathroom, trailing bits of litter as he goes.
Author's Notes: I started this fic waaaaaay back, before Set and I got together when they posted their fic stay (don't stray) and mentioned in the notes that the working title had been "the feral cat story" my brain went oooooooh but WHAT IF and I wrote, like, half of it immediately. Megamind's "cat bucket list" is the one Set gave me when I asked them what /their/ cat bucket list would be. This was always meant to be a gift work for them. It just took three years to un-scramble my brain enough to write the remaining half of it.
The Improbability Drive is a reference to Set's fic Tenderize, aka the McNugget AU.
I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter!
