Megamind has kidnapped Roxanne exclusively for well over a year the first time he feels an unfamiliar tickle below his sinuses. He has one of his resources pinned to the wall in the shadows of a smoke-hazy bar with his weapon jammed under the man's chin and he is snarling into his face about how, exactly, the city got word of his involvement in the construction of the new bank going up on the lower east side.

"I didn't—I didn't say anything! I didn't say—"

"Strike one. You were the only point of contact when they poured the foundation," he hisses, "and I can smell when you lie, so do not fucking test me, Nevin."

"Gakh—I didn't—say shit! I swear!"

Megamind bares his teeth and adjusts his grip on his gun. "Strike two."

"She-she-she just wanted to know about the inconsistency with the keycards! At the construction site! She wanted to know what could cause that and, and so I told her what system we're using, that's all! I swear!"

He narrows his eyes. He's at the perfect angle for the dim light of the bar to catch in his pupils and light them blue-green and hollow. "Who?"

"The Ritchi lady! Who the fuck else would it be!" The barrel of Megamind's gun withdraws slightly and Nevin gulps. "C'mon, man, you know she's the one with the fuckin death grip on the lower east side. I didn't give her specifics, I didn't say anything about you, I swear. I dunno how she figured out what's happening over there but it wasn't me!"

Roxanne. Of course it would be Roxanne. She's brilliant. She wouldn't need specifics if she already had some other key pieces of information; Megamind has met very few other humans with Roxanne's knack for building the correct conclusion on a skeleton frame.

He lowers the de-gun and opens his mouth to say something scathing, and—

—chokes instead. His breath catches behind his tongue and he coughs, clears his throat. Swallows.

The feeling subsides. Huh. That was weird.

"It most certainly was you," he says, stepping back and holstering his weapon. "You underestimated an investigative journalist, what did you think was going to happen?"

"An…she's not an investigative journalist! She's a glorified news anchor! She's—" He falters; Megamind's upper lip has just curled.

"And you're an idiot, apparently." Megamind rolls his eyes. "If you think that's true. My loss of First Metro is still very much on you and I am going to require some favors before you're off the hook."

Nevin appears to have no problems with this. "Yeah okay sure! Sure, whatever you need."

Megamind sighs and finally turns away, signals the bartender. "How's Regina? Still sick?"

Uncertain and still very nervous, Nevin swallows and steps away from the wall. The door is tempting, but Megamind…just changed the subject in a weird way, and Nevin doesn't dare seem disrespectful after pissing him off so badly.

So he follows the alien towards the bar and follows his conversational lead. "The doctors…think it's something to do with her kidneys," he says slowly, sliding onto a stool near where Megamind is standing with his elbows on the bar and a scowl on his sharp features. "They're not failing or nothing, it's nothing like that, just…a weird amount of stones, you know? Something ain't right."

"Hm." Megamind's scowl tightens, his lips thin. "Sounds like a calcium binding problem."

"That's what they said, yeah." Nevin hesitates, then figures what the hell, why not. "You know how to fix it?"

Megamind shakes his head. "I'm no physician. I try not to get too far into human…" he lifts a hand and wiggles his long fingers, wrinkles his nose, "...whatnot."

Nevin sighs, nods. Sends the bartender a perfunctory smile and accepts the beer he's handed.

"The drink is on me, though," Megamind adds, pushing off the bar and turning away. "Sorry about your wife."

"...Thanks?" Frowning, Nevin watches him leave before turning back around.

"He does that," says the bartender, grinning at the perplexed look on his face.

"What? Threatens people, then buys them a drink?"

"If he feels sorry for 'em. Yeah."

Nevin lifts his eyebrows in bewildered acceptance and sips at his beer. "Sure. Okay. Makes about as much sense as anything else, these days."

0-0-0

Megamind goes home to Evil Lair in a foul mood. Now he'll have to find another building with a similarly solid foundation in the area, or find a way to build one without being found out. He had important plans for the foundations of that bank, goddammit!

But Roxanne is crafty, and Nevin is a straightforward thinker. It's not his fault he forgot who he was talking to or underestimated her. But now Megamind is going to have to figure out a way to harass Miss Ritchi about ii without tipping her off that he's impressed. He isn't sure how she always knows—he knows his tells, he's very good at hiding them! But she does always know. Lord knows how, but—

His throat tickles again and—tcchchh—no, no, there's—something back there, ugh

He coughs and spits the thing out into his hand and frowns down at it.

Fuck. Fuck fuck, is he spitting up blood? What the hell? When did he get an injury that would leave him coughing blood? For a panicked few moments, that's all he can think: red, coughing, blood. And then he realizes.

It's a petal.

Just one, but that's enough to make his heart trip on a beat. Hanahaki.

"No," he breathes.

This is. So much worse. So very, very much worse. He would so much rather be coughing up blood. He can figure out his biology, figure out how to alleviate or heal problems with his body. But his heart? Emotionally?

It's Roxanne, of course. Of course it is, there's no question. Megamind doesn't know what kind of petals these are and frankly he does not care, frankly he is only panicked, but of course he knows the petal must belong to Roxanne. Like Neven said earlier, who the fuck else would it be.

He goes to Minion in a kind of daze with the accursed thing in his fist and a ringing in his ears. And what must be an absolutely stricken expression on his face, because as soon as he steps through the doorway into Minion's studio, his friend is on his feet and coming to meet him.

"What's wrong," Minion says, urgent. "Sir—what is—what happened?"

Megamind feels his expression pinch as he holds out his hand and uncurls his fingers, wordless, helpless. Minion bends down to look as Megamind's eyes fill…and then he swears and drops into a crouch.

"Oh, Sir. Siirh. Oh, no."

Megamind swallows, a stuttering gulp. His voice is thin and reedy. "What am I going to do?"

"Stop seeing her?" Minion's grimace says he knows this probably isn't going to happen.

Megamind can't blame him for the suggestion—it was the first thing he thought of, too—but he also can't help how his breath catches in his shivering lungs or the way his expression finally crumples into tears. It's the most obvious solution, and the most feasible, it's just…

He doesn't want to stop seeing Roxanne. He wants to see her every day. Flowers in his lungs be damned.

Minion pulls him into a hug and Megamind wraps his arms around the glass dome, tucks his face against his friend's metal shoulder.

"What-what am I going to do," he mumbles again, despairing, and Minion pats him gently.

"We," Minion says, "are going to do what we always do, Sir."

"Self-isolate and plan to cause as many problems on purpose as possible?" Megamind mumbles.

Minion grips his arms and moves him back so he can see his face. "Keep moving forward," he says firmly. "We keep moving forward, Sir. We'll hide it for as long as we can, and…figure the rest out as we go along."

Megamind swallows. "She knows her flower," he says. "She has to know. She's amazing, Minion, she…there must have been others before me. She has to know."

The tall shelves with their bolts of fabric are close on either side, comforting as Minion pulls him into another hug. "We'll figure it out," he says again. "We'll get through this."

Megamind gulps and nods, squeezes himself against Minion's chest. "What the fuck is this planet," he whispers. "I thought I was exempt."

"I thought so, too."

Suddenly Megamind shoves himself back, staring at Minion in horror. "Oh—oh god, Minion—what if—what if you're—"

Minion shakes his head. "I don't think I'm capable, Sir. My species doesn't do pair bonding, remember?"

All of his breath leaves him in a relieved rush. "Right. Yes. Okay. And you don't have lungs."

"And I don't have lungs! Although," Minion grimaces, "we should…probably keep an eye on me, just to be safe. I do…care. For her. And, and I do have a swim bladder, so…"

Megamind nods. "Yes. Yes. Right you are, Minion. Shall we—we could do weekly scans? Make sure nothing is…growing?"

Minion nods. Megamind nods back, then lets his eyes fall closed and lets his forehead fall against Minion's glass with a gentle thunk.

"You'll be okay, Sir."

They both know he's lying.