Chapter 11

Megamind slams his nemesis out of the air, teeth bared and eyes blazing. Metro Man oofs and rolls across the concrete, limbs akimbo.

"What did you do," Megamind snarls. "You worthless undeserving self-absorbed asshole, how DARE you ignore her!"

Metro Man shakes his head, looking dazed. "Wh-what? What are you—"

"Hanahaki! Roxanne! What the FUCK is wrong with you!"

Metro Man shoves Megamind off and darts away into the sky. They aren't even fighting publicly right now, Megamind struck out of nowhere while the hero was on patrol south of the warehouse district. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"It's your fault," Megamind snarls, following him up and firing on all cylinders. "If you—if you paid attention to her! If you spent more time with—if you made more time to be with your girlfriend, you would—! How DARE you! If you don't love her!"

Metro Man rolls out of the way of another blast. "Whoa! No no no, hold up! Hold on!"

"She should not be pining over her own fucking boyfriend—"

"It's not me! You don't—augh! Blue—Megamind, what the heck! She's not in love with me!"

Megamind pauses his onslaught. He's still glaring, but he pauses over his controls, thin chest heaving with exertion and rage. "Explain."

"Okay, okay, god—just—you know people can be in love with more than one person! Right? Right, she's not pining over me! And we're planning on breaking up anyway! You little goober!"

Megamind stares at him.

"Also when exactly did you figure out how to do this?" Wayne tugs his flight suit down over his shoulder to reveal a livid bruise rising under his skin. "That's WAY not cool, that's a whole other thing, holy shrimp."

Megamind stares at him.

"Hello? Earth to Megamind? Ground control to Major Tom, come in."

Megamind blinks once. "She's not in love with you," he says flatly.

"No!"

"You're sure."

"Yes! God! It's probably that new guy she's working with, Tim or whoever. He seems real nice. I dunno, she didn't wanna talk about it. But it's not me."

Megamind turns on his heel without another word and stomps away. Wayne watches him go, shaking his head.

"Ow," he mutters, annoyed. What was that all about?


Megamind exits his battlesuit already choking on a dahlia flower. He hasn't coughed up a bud or just petals in nearly a month now, although he has sneezed petals once or twice. He spits the flower into his hand and hurls it away from himself with a strangled scream of despair and frustration. It's deeply unsatisfying; flowers don't throw very well.

Roxanne is in love. With someone who either doesn't love her back or doesn't know. And it might, in fact, be Megamind's fault for introducing them.

This is not happening. This can't—this can't be—

He could cry. This has nothing at all to do with him, he knows; he could never have anticipated this when he screened Tim for the role of Roxanne's cameraman. Granted, he chose Tim because he hoped Roxanne would like working with the man, but—not like this! Not like this. This was not what he meant to happen, and now—

And now—

He honestly had not realized that some part of himself was still holding out hope that Roxanne might someday turn and see him standing with his heart in his hands for her. He had thought he was already resigned to the fact that wouldn't happen. Apparently not.

Apparently fucking not, because this hurts worse than the flowers tearing at his lungs. This is a flower of metal, petals like knives.

Turns out coughing up dahlias while already in tears is the actual worst. He just—

—loves her, he loves her more than he can ever say; the flowers that bloom inside him are wine-dark and vibrant with love and with wanting. Wanting to see her, to smile with her, to share laughter and living and dying with her. Wanting her touch on his skin even just one more time. She is so, so smart. Quick-witted and sharp in every sense of the word. And kind. She doesn't always succeed, but he knows she does try to be kind.

He had thought, the time she gave him her makeup…she didn't have to put her whole hand on him. She could have just used her thumb. But then later he went to remove the eyeliner himself and discovered, ah, this is difficult and he needs to use leverage. She was steadying herself. That was all.

He puts the flowers in his over-full Shame Box :) and goes down to his reef pool.

He can't sleep there anymore. That used to be his go-to on bad days: use the weight of the water above him and the movement of water around him to soothe his mind and let him rest. But a couple of weeks into this Hanahaki nonsense he woke up actually choking on saltwater, coughing thirty feet down, and he had thrashed to the surface in a haze of panicked confusion and petals and water where it shouldn't be. So. He can't sleep in his pool anymore. But he can stay there and meditate for a while despite the agony of salt on his gills, and head for the surface when the tickle in his throat becomes a scratch.

(The idea occurs that he could just. Not swim up. Weigh himself down with something and let the water claim him. Not like his lungs would hurt worse than they do already.)

(But that's an old impulse and not one he's actually interested in following. He tamed that dragon years ago. Yes, it rears its head from time to time, but he's not in any danger, not really. Not really. It's mostly just annoying, at this point. Rather like the Hanahaki thing. He pushes it aside with a sigh.)

Could he…

Could he talk to Roxanne? About this? Offer comfort, a listening ear? Maybe even commiserate with her somewhat?

No.

No, she's far too canny for that. She would figure it out. He'll have to just…offer his condolences and leave it at that.

What he should do, of course, is ignore this knowledge. Anything else is an unacceptable risk. Megamind is safe if he holds himself away, if he keeps himself distant. But. That is not a thing he can do. Not right now, not with this. Not with her. He hasn't held himself away from her in quite some time, if he's honest with himself.

Should he tell her…?

No. Roxanne is kind to him. She would be kind about this. Megamind would honestly rather she were cruel; maybe then the flowers would stop.

The salt on his gills is worse than usual, not even a good pain, so Megamind just floats on his back on the surface and seeks what little comfort he can find while he uses his traitorous lungs.

Until the tickling flowers finally demand his attention once again. He scrapes his leg on a coral as he drags himself to the side of his pool, gagging and tired and grieving the small hope he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

He can barely breathe with his lungs for half an hour these days before they squeeze around a flower. He can't breathe at all with his gills. He sleeps like shit; he's up half the night coughing. Honestly, Minion was right; it's only a matter of time until the city finds out. But Megamind can't let that happen now! Not with Roxanne also in the grip of this curse! Your love is unrequited but at least the city's asocial outcast supervillain has feelings for you, enjoy your consolation prize. It would be downright insulting. Insult to injury, quite literally. He can't do that to her.

He can't. He won't.


Megamind knows he needs to keep his distance, but he is so tired. He is tired of being angry and tired of being in pain and tired of the tickling scratch in his throat. And he's tired of not sleeping.

That night, he goes to Roxanne's apartment after she goes to bed and creeps up the stairs to her bedroom as silently as he can. He doesn't enter—he doesn't dare—but he does finally allow himself to sit at the top of her stairs and lean his shoulder against her door, and put his head on his knees and breathe.

There. Okay. He can breathe. The sofa is close enough to Roxanne that his body can relax, but tonight—just for tonight—he needs to be closer. He just needs a break. Just for one night. One night of breathing as close to Roxanne as he dares, and then he'll be okay for a while.

He's just tired.

Beside him, on the other side of the door, he hears the rustling shift of a comforter or quilt as Roxanne rolls over in her sleep, and—

He can't help the sudden tears in his eyes any more than he could help coming here. Fucking pathetic, supervillain wrapped in his cape and curled up against a door crying silently so he won't disturb the woman he loves, who loves someone else. He can't—

He can't—

Megamind presses his temple to the wood of Roxanne's door and grits his teeth around his tears, bares his teeth into the dark and swallows everything down and away.

No. He is not doing this. He is a supervillain. He is the supervillain of Metro City. He is not feeling small and alone and sorry for himself; he is dealing with an illness. That's all there is to it.

(his heart hurts so badly)

(his heart hurts, his gills hurt, his head hurts from crying)

He gulps, sniffs, tips his head back against the wall, and closes his eyes. Breathes deeply. And he lets his imagination take over.

(Megamind has a good imagination and he refuses to feel guilty about it. Roxanne has his whole heart; Megamind will at least have this small fantasy.)

He thinks—

He thinks of—his hand. Turning the covers back in the quiet so he can slide into Roxanne's bed with her. He thinks of wearing his soft pajamas instead of this leather armor, of scooting towards Roxanne between the sheets in the dark. He thinks of her murmuring something, mumbling in her sleep as she—rolls towards him? No, she moves to give Megamind room, to let him lie down in the warm place she made with her body. And then she reaches for him, curls down at his side with her head on his thin chest and her arm around him.

She is happy. Safe with him and happy. His head is on her pillow. It is soft. Warm from Roxanne. It smells like her hair.

He is safe. Warm. With Roxanne. No pain.

He sleeps.


He wakes and just barely manages to keep from groaning aloud.

Everything is pain. His neck his back his legs. Gills of course. Everything cramping. Ow.

But it's fine. Megamind is feeling better, regardless. He needed a few hours of good sleep more than he even realized.

Megamind gets unsteadily to his feet, wincing. It's early, not yet dawn. He yawns and stretches as best he can, then finally turns and goes downstairs.

He turns toward the doors to Roxanne's balcony, then pauses.

The warm red and gold color scheme of Roxanne's apartment is pale and washed out before sunup. The clock above her door ticks gently. It's a familiar sound. Megamind would like to leave, at this point, but his struggling heart stops him.

(He can't. Not yet. Just two more minutes, please. Please, just a minute longer, let him pretend that he belongs in this familiar space.)

Megamind sighs, shakes his head at himself.

Fine. He can make coffee. He can do that. He can get Roxanne's coffeemaker going for when she wakes up; he knows how she laments not being able to program the damned thing and shave a few minutes off her morning routine. Megamind can do that for her, as long as he's here. Hooray, the coffee fairy came to visit.

(Maybe this will tip her off…? He can't even care anymore.)

He's found an elderly can of coffee grounds and started the machine when he hears—

—wow. He must have been more tired than he thought, to have slept through Roxanne's Hanahaki attacks. That sounds terrible, does he sound like that? No wonder his uncles are so worried.

Her bed creaks. Footsteps. She's awake, still hacking like a two-packs-a-day smoker in the throes of pneumonia.

Shit.

Okay, it's okay, Megamind can work with this if she comes downstairs. He…heard the news and was concerned. That's all. And maybe she'll go back to bed—it's still early.

He stands and listens with his fists clenched and his heart aching, wishing he could go upstairs and help.


She doesn't go back to bed, and he doesn't leave. Megamind is still standing in Roxanne's kitchen, leaning against her counter by her coffeemaker when he hears her door open and her footsteps on the stairs.

There's a click, and Megamind wrinkles his nose against the sudden light.

"Um," Roxanne says.

He takes a deep breath. "I made coffee." He looks over at her. She's wearing lavender pajamas and a fluffy bathrobe with seahorses on it, and his lips twitch. "I like your robe."

She turns pink under her freckles and crosses her arms over her chest. "What—are you doing? Is this a kidnapping?"

He shakes his head. "No. I simply…heard some news. I came to offer my condolences on your…ah, affliction."

Roxanne blinks and recoils, eyes going wide. "My—you—came to—"

Megamind sighs. He pushes off the counter and straightens. "I can't help but feel responsible, a little," he admits. Roxanne is pale and looks terribly confused; he can't blame her. She just woke up and she's probably still catching her breath from sicking up her flower. "For introducing you. I am…sorry."

She blinks again, then exhales carefully and sort of squints at him. There's a tuft of hair sticking straight up on the back of her head; god, she's cute.

"Sorry, what?" She squints at him. "You—introduced us?"

Megamind frowns. "Is Tim not your pseudamour?"

She raises her eyebrows and says, "Tim?" and bursts out laughing, and the weird tension that was building between them dissipates. "God, no! No," she laughs, "it's not Tim. I'd rather not talk about specifics, but rest assured, none of this was your fault." She grins at him and runs a hand through her hair as she finally comes into the kitchenette in her bare feet and retrieves a mug from her cupboard.

Then she glances at him. "Do you want…?"

"Not right now."

She shrugs and pours herself a mug. "Thanks for making coffee, though," she says, sending him a half-smile. "You're sweet. But you know—even if it was Tim, my Hanahaki wouldn't be your fault. My feelings aren't your responsibility."

Logically, that's true. But fuck, it doesn't feel true. Knowing Roxanne didn't fall for someone Megamind sent her way is a bizarre relief—nothing has changed, but he really does feel like a tremendous weight is off his shoulders.

"Still," he says, returning the other half of her smile but unable to make it reach his eyes. "Hanahaki is quite painful. Not something I would wish on anyone."

Roxanne pauses in returning the coffeepot to its place under the machine's spout. A pang goes through her and she looks at him. "You've—oh. You've had it, then."

"I have."

It must not have worked out. Maybe that's why the man doesn't date? He doesn't want to risk it again?

"I'm so sorry," she says, genuinely meaning it. "Did you…did you ever figure out how to make it any easier?" Megamind cocks his head at her at that, frowning, and she swallows. "Like, some kind of extra-efficient expectorant? A better inhaler?"

His expression clears. "Ah. No. I…frankly, I never bothered. But," he adds, "if you'd like, I can look into that for you. I can't imagine it would be difficult—it might even be fun for me."

"If you want to give it a shot, I absolutely will not complain." She smiles weakly. "I have some special expectorant, it's…um, prescription. But even just something to soothe? I've been drinking a ton of honey tea, but it's still been doing a number on my voice. And I kind of need my voice for work."

He nods. "Of course. This will be an interesting challenge, then."

"I'll be grateful for anything you can find," Roxanne says.

She sips at her coffee, then laughs a little. It isn't very good coffee; he must have used the old grounds. Still, it was…nice of him to start the coffeepot for her.

"Megamind," she says, amused, "why did you come over at the ass-crack of dawn? Not that I'm complaining, it's nice to have coffee waiting for me, but—is everything okay?"

He heaves a sigh. "I haven't…been sleeping well. I've been ill, I suppose. I didn't really think about what time it was when I heard the news." Finally he does smile a little, and this one looks like honest amusement. "You know me," he says. "Awake at all hours. Days on end."

"Driving Minion up the wall," she agrees, teasing, and he laughs.

"Indeed." His smile slips. "I should be going. He'll be worried. My sympathies, again."

"If you have to," Roxanne says, watching him turn away and head for the balcony with a flick of his cape. "So, no kidnapping this week?"

He pauses with his hand on the door. "Not this week, I'm afraid."

She sighs, nods. "Okay. Well…take care of yourself. Thanks for the coffee."

Megamind leaves. Roxanne puts her coffee in the sink, goes back to bed, and cries.

She really thought it was over. Megamind in her home making coffee? The sun barely even up? He must have figured it out. He must have. And the relief when she realized he had it wrong—

—and the despair when she realized he had it wrong, and she's still in this curse, and she just. wants. She just wants a fucking hug. Is what she wants.

She needs to tell him. Just get it out there and get it over with. If he knows she has Hanahaki, he is going to figure it out eventually anyway. Probably sooner rather than later. With any luck, the glowing flowers she sent away to be preserved will come back within the week and she can work out how to give them to him the next time he kidnaps her. This can't continue.

But the fact that he hasn't twigged yet isn't a good sign. "My friend always seemed fine around me" is typically a dead giveaway! Where the hell did Megamind get the idea that Roxanne might be in love with Tim? That's nuts!

Maybe…maybe he heard she has Hanahaki, but not how far the disease has progressed for her? Attacks in the beginning stages are often infrequent.

Yes. That's probably it.

Damn. Maybe it isn't a sign of anything, then.

She sighs and rolls over, pulls the blanket up over her head, and waits for her alarm to go off. Maybe she should just…

She tries to imagine telling him I hate you, you're horrible, I wish you were dead, leave me alone, you're disgusting, don't ever look at me again, I don't want you near me. Tries to imagine how Megamind might respond to that. Anger? Shouting? That might be okay in the moment; Roxanne can deal with shouting. Trouble is, he'll still have the lies to carry and deal with even after she's gone and he isn't shouting anymore. Roxanne has known him long enough to know his softer side is a lot less buried than most people realize; the look on his face last Christmas was—

She only realizes she's crying again when she has to sniffle because her eyes are watering so badly.

Megamind had been hurting and she couldn't help him; she can't even think of adding to that pain without feeling sick to her stomach. And she doesn't want to be that kind of person! Doesn't want to be someone who hurts someone else just to avoid the potential of getting hurt, themself.

Besides, she tells herself, you don't know how he'll react! Maybe you'll get home tonight and Megamind will be pacing your balcony waiting to tell you he's willing to give it a shot. Maybe he's waiting to confess his undying love for you! That would be nice, right? You never know!

Ha.

But it would be nice. And really, is it so implausible? He's being awfully nice to her, even though he knows none of this is his fault.

Nice does not mean someone might want to fall in love with you, she snaps at herself. You know this. He might just be nice because you're nice to him. He might just be nice because he works with you. He might not like you at all, but he's nice to you because Minion likes you. Remember how many times you've received petals. Niceness is a full house, not a straight flush.

Regardless. She's going to tell him. As soon as she gets his two glowing flowers back from the artist. No more putting this off.

She's just...fine, okay, yes: she's still scared. If he stops kidnapping her, will it be possible to keep seeing him? Could she ask him "hey, when I get over you, could we try again?" That sounds pathetic, but goddammit she doesn't want to lose him. She wants him with her. Whatever that means, she wants it.

But this isn't really about what she wants, is it.

That's the whole problem, in the end. Megamind will react how he reacts. Roxanne will give him her heart, and if he breaks it…it was a gift. He can break it if he needs to, if he wants to. Roxanne will make her peace with that, the same as anyone who's given her petals over the years has done. She'll have to.

(The fact that she honestly thinks he might not break it is more terrifying than she can express. If she knew the rejection was a sure thing, she could prepare. But she doesn't know that. Megamind likes her, as a friend if nothing else. Maybe he'll want to try? Maybe…)

She dresses for work with her throat and chest stinging with alien flowers and her stomach churning with nerves.