Again, a huge thank you to Karen B. Jones for road trip ideas (and all the other ideas, too!). This chapter would have sucked without her.
And in response to Negative Other (I couldn't reply to your question 'cause you weren't logged in)…the whole emotion-sensing thing is really just that: he senses other people's emotions. It's like walking past a rosebush and smelling roses, or walking past a skunk and smelling something a little bit stronger than roses. They don't become his emotions or anything, and ordinarily it wouldn't be a problem at all. But on Earth, he has a hard time with crowds of people. He can't really handle more than 10 in a room if he hasn't had caffeine in the last ten to twenty-four hours or so, depending on social context and his stress levels. Humans can't control what pheromones they put out, so for him, being in a crowd is like wading through the biggest flower garden you've ever seen, except it's in the same place as a huge garbage heap, and then there are a bunch of chemical processing plant odors on top of that. Take all of it and multiply it by six. The real trouble here is that he's built to react to some of these emotional broadcasts; his biology is such that it's meant to be a secondary form of communication. It may once have been his species' primary form of communication, before they developed syntax and a spoken language. His body reacts to some of these pheromone inputs without his direction.
But they don't become his emotions. Honestly, I could probably write something like a ten page paper on how all his biochemical stuff works, how it might have developed, that sort of thing. If any of you have questions, drop me a line. Oh, and there's another shortish story completed and posted to my Livejournal, if any of you want to read it before it goes up here on Ffnet. I'm postponing the cross-post until Twelve Days is over.
And speaking of Twelve Days, here's Chapter 5! I still own nothing. I hope you enjoy! Suicide trigger warnings in this one, but not a lot of trauma. Is there such a thing as a mild trigger warning?
Chapter 5
She opens her eyes and frowns. There's bright sunlight pouring through the windows and she sits bolt upright—what happened to six o'clock?
"What's going on?" she asks. Megamind's side of the bed is made up already, and he's sprawled over the sofa reading a newspaper. "I thought we were supposed to be on the road by now?"
"Change of plans," he says, smiling brightly as he folds the paper up and lays it down on his lap. "Sorry I didn't ask you first, but when I tried to wake you up you hit me in the nose and mumbled something about parsnips."
She chuckles. "Sorry."
"It's okay. You were asleep, you didn't hit very hard. It was more of a batting motion." He demonstrates, flopping an arm at her pathetically until she can't help but laugh. "So I called up to the house and told Lucy and Bob that we'd be up at ten o'clock for breakfast. They said that was fine."
The clock reads 9:06. "You do realize we have nearly eighteen more hours of driving today?"
"Yes. Don't worry, we'll manage. And this way we'll get to your mother's tomorrow morning, and we won't have to wake her up during the wee hours to let us in!" He sends her a sunny smile that she just can't argue with. "We'll take driving in shifts! And you know me, I can stay up for days. So you can sleep in the car and I'll get us to your mother's. No problem."
Privately, she thinks there will be a problem if only because they both tend to become slightly hysterical after ten or so hours of driving, but Megamind looks so excited that she can't bring herself to point this out. Oh well, she thinks ruefully, que será, será.
"That sounds great," she tells him. He beams. "You're not wearing the disguise yet? The sun's up."
His smile turns sly. "About that. I've been thinking."
"Uh-oh," she says, grinning, and he sticks his tongue out at her.
"I think it'll be okay if I don't wear it all the time. I know how much you hate it, and truth be told I like the safety it affords but it doesn't really help my mindset any. We can keep it off as long as the car stays invisible." He pauses. "But I think I should keep it on at all times when we're at your mother's house. Even at night."
Roxanne rubs the sleep sand out of her eyes and puts her chin on her knees, wrapping her hands around her ankles under the covers, thinking about how they really should put in a window in Megamind's bedroom at the Lair because his skin and eyes in the morning sunlight are just incredible. She can't remember the last time he's looked less human or more gorgeous.
He blinks at her. "Okay…what's that face? You've gone all misty-eyed and smiley at me."
"I guess you're right," she says, "about the disguise. But for now…we have almost an hour, and you found us this amazing little cabin, and it would really be a shame not to take advantage of its…seclusion?"
He mock-scowls at her. "I just got dressed." He stands. "And now you want me to take my clothes off again?"
Her mouth curls to the side. "No, I was sort of hoping you'd let me do that."
"Uh huh. I thought we got this out of our systems last night? Twice, even!"
"Mmm, I don't hear you objecting." She grins at him, then bursts into bright laughter when he falls across her, pushing her down—she grabs him and rolls him over.
Is it always going to be like this? she wonders as he smiles up at her, deep amusement warring with chagrin on his features, laughing and shaking his head at her when she just looks at him. She hopes it will always be like this. Familiar and still so new. Then he does something interesting with his hips that demands her attention, and her thoughts turn to other things for a while.
Some time later, he zips up the back of her dress with his toothbrush clamped in his teeth before heading back to the bathroom to spit.
"That's a new dress," he calls to her. "I don't think I've seen it before."
He hasn't. It's wool and surprisingly comfortable, an early Christmas gift from Minion. It's pretty and blue and it travels well, and they have a long drive ahead of them and she wants to feel pretty. Dressing well has always helped her mood immensely. "You like it?"
"I do." He comes out of the bathroom with the disguise back in place, wiping his hands on a towel. "Blue really brings out your eyes, and that particular shade goes really well with your complex-tion. The deep collar balances your profile, too, but it definitely doesn't eliminate any of your curves."
"I love having a fashion-savvy boyfriend," she remarks, and he chuckles and pulls on his gloves, strapping them around his upper arms with short, quick movements.
"You ready to head up to the house?" he asks. "All packed? I'd like to hit the road as soon as we're done breakfast."
"I'm ready if you are. Just let me get my boots on." Yet another benefit to living with Megamind is that the stuff he uses to waterproof his leathers is actually waterproof. This is the first pair of nice boots she's been able to wear through a foot of snow without worrying. "Okay. Ready."
Breakfast sends her perception of him back into the uncanny valley as he interacts with their hosts. Maybe it's just that she never sees him at city council meetings and things like that, but she's forgotten how good an actor he is. He seems completely at ease with Bob and Lucy, cracking casual jokes and asking about business and the area, so relaxed that Roxanne finds herself laughing along, teasing him playfully about getting lost the night before, elbowing him good-naturedly in the ribs—suddenly they're like any other couple on a holiday trip across the country. When breakfast is over, he shakes Bob's hand and gives Lucy a peck on the cheek, acting quite as though they've known each other all their lives, and he even gives a farewell beep of the horn as he backs out of the drive to go back to the highway.
It takes a couple minutes before Roxanne realizes how very strange all that was, but she can't identify why it was odd for the life of her, which is doubly strange. "What was all that?"
He looks at her curiously. "All what?"
"All that back there. The joking and the laughing and the—all of it." She shakes her head. "I've never seen you like that before."
"What?" He looks at her, wearing a faintly bewildered smile. "You see me like that all the time."
"You weren't acting?" The idea honestly hadn't occurred to her. She frowns. Now that he mentions it, it had been exactly how he behaves around her and Minion and, recently, Wayne. That's why it had seemed weird: Roxanne has never seen him at ease around strangers. "But you seemed so comfortable with them."
"Why shouldn't I be comfortable? They don't know who I am. Even if they did, I'll probably never see them again." He shrugs, then casts her a sidelong glance. "Not everything I do is an act, you know."
"I know that!" she assures him quickly. "I'm just not used to you being you around people who aren't, well…me." She frowns. "Wow, that really sounds bad."
But he's laughing again. "No, it sounds like you know me. I hide a lot from the people of Metro because I still have a reputation to uphold, but it's all completely conscious. And, frankly? It's getting harder to maintain." A line appears between his eyebrows, and she blinks at him in surprise. She hadn't expected him to ever admit something like that. Still more amazing is that he keeps going. "I'd like to retire completely. I've already retired the supervillain persona, but the behind-the-scenes guy is still out there. I've still got info on Metro's underground dealings coming in every day from seventy or so different sources." His mouth twists. "I mean, it's all necessary, of course. I'll do whatever it takes to keep Metro City a clean, safe place to live. I just wish it were legal."
Roxanne shakes her head. "What exactly isn't legal about what you do?"
"Aside from the fact that I'm something of a very quiet vigilante—" He breaks off, frustrated. "I suppose, technically, gathering information isn't illegal. It's just that I wish I didn't have to do it. I could help the police so much with what I know, but that would only make me a ton of enemies. So I guess what I'd really like to do is stop getting information entirely. Stop all the dealings with Lancaster and York, stop enforcing all the rules and everything and just…I don't know, buy a house in the country, or something."
"You aren't serious."
"No," he admits. "Probably not that; I like the city and I don't want to leave. But you know what I mean." He sighs and shrugs. "Trouble is, then the crime rate in Metro would go back to what it was before I started, and I'm not sure if I could deal with that."
Roxanne has heard that before, but not from him. She swallows. "So...leave Lancaster and York in charge! They'll do a fine job. They almost run the city on their own, you know that—all the criminals here are scared of them, not you."
"But I operate through them. Also, they're human! They have their own agendas."
"I'm human," she points out, "and I don't have an agenda."
"Yes, you do, you have the same agenda I do. Being happy." The little line deepens. "But that comes second to keeping Metrocity safe. No matter what happens, I need to know that I'll be able to field an army if the city ever needs one, and as long as I stand above Lancaster and York they'll mobilize together if I give the order. But if I step down, there's no guarantee that their suspicion of each other won't prevent them from doing what needs to happen should the need arise."
She holds up her hands. "Whoa, whoa. Why do you even need to do any of this? I love that you're so into keeping the city safe, but seriously, sweetie, you aren't actually the King of Metro. You don't need to do all this."
"It needs to be done," he replies.
"But what has the city ever done for you?"
He shrugs and says, with utter sincerity, "I don't see why that matters."
Roxanne is really, really glad he's watching the road because it means he can't look at the way her whole expression has just fallen open. Because that, right there, is the core of who he is. He keeps saying he's not a hero, he hates it when the media calls him one and he's always quick to correct anyone who makes that mistake—but Roxanne isn't sure if there's any other word for what he is. He's going through the exact same thing Wayne was going through: he's sick of the whole business and wants to retire but he doesn't dare, because he's the only one who can do what needs to be done.
"You're awfully quiet," he observes a minute later.
She swallows hard, trying to stay objective but feeling a lot of love for him. "Let me put this another way," she says slowly. "And I don't mean this as a loaded question at all, I promise. If it came down to a choice between keeping the city safe and staying with me—"
His hands tighten on the wheel. "Please. Don't."
"But that's the way you have to think about this!" she exclaims. "You deserve to be happy. If saving the city doesn't make you happy, you don't have to do it. I thought you hated the concept of moral obligations," she adds when his lips make a thin line and he huffs through his nose. "What about that stuff you told Wayne back when he was going in circles with all this? All that Latin stuff—non solum sumo tumpty bumpty, or whatever it was?"
"Non nobis solum nati sumus, we are not born for ourselves alone." He shakes his head. "This isn't about that. It has nothing to do with morality."
"Oh don't give me that," she scoffs. "You can't deal with knowing the crime rate is your fault? That's moral obligation all over."
"You aren't listening to me," he says flatly. "When I was eight days old I watched my planet disintegrate into the vortex of a collapsar. You don't think about what might happen if the Earth was just sucked out from under you some day or what might happen if you suddenly became responsible for the extinction or survival of an entire species, but I've never even taken air for granted. When I saw Earth on the viewfinder and knew I was headed somewhere that at least had an atmosphere, I was ecstatic. Do you have any idea what that feels like? To be relieved because you've just found out you'll be able to do things like breathe?
"And yes, it's been rough, yes, I could have had it a lot easier. But any way you look at it, Metro City is my second chance at a life that was denied the rest of my species." A muscle pulses in his jaw and his voice goes flat and hard as folded iron. "It's taken me a long time to reach this conclusion. A long time. I nearly threw it in everyone's faces once, but I pulled through that and I'm stronger for it, and I'm never going to take my life for granted ever again—I've lost too much. I've gained too much!
"That's why I stand above Lancaster and York. That's why I've imposed all these rules on Metro. It's…these are my people. Mine. Just like Metrocity is my home. I…" He trails off, gesturing wordlessly as he tries to work out his phrasing. "I don't see what's so difficult to understand about this. The city is my home. It's the only one I'm ever going to have. I love Metroci…agh, Metro City," he says, scowling. His pronunciation is getting better in general, but 'Metro City' still gives him problems when he's not thinking about it. Force of habit, Roxanne assumes. "I don't do this because I feel obligated, and I'm certainly not the only one who can do it. I do it because it needs to be done and nobody else is bothering to do it."
He glances over at Roxanne to find her staring at him. "Have I told you lately that I love you?" she asks.
A small smile tugs at his lips. "You said little else for nearly forty-five seconds straight this morning, as I recall," he says.
"Well, I meant it."
He smiles. "You know something?" His eyes are sparkling when he looks at her now. "I actually believe that."
She smiles back. "So I'll tell you what," she says, "you defend the city, and I'll help. Okay?"
"Why, Miss Ritchi," he drawls, dropping his voice to a purr, "are you finally taking me up on my offer to make you my Evil Queen?"
She laughs. "No. I won't be your Evil Queen. I will be your queen, though."
"Aww, but evil is so much more fun."
"Sorry, honey. Evil's a deal-breaker."
Megamind blinks, startled. "Is that what it was? You mean we could have gotten here years ago if I'd given up evil sooner?"
She shakes her head. "Okay, see, if I admit that, I'll have to admit that I was interested in you even back when you were evil."
He nods wisely. "Ah, I see. And you won't do that?"
"It's nothing against you, dear," she says fondly, patting his knee, "I just won't give my brother the satisfaction."
Megamind snorts. "I can't wait to meet him."
"He's really excited about this, too." She kicks off her shoes and snuggles into the seat, wiggling down and putting her feet up on the dashboard. "There aren't very many people who can keep up with him intellectually; I think he's looking forward to taking you for a test drive." She smirks. "He is going to be so madI got to you first."
"Were you interested in me when I was evil?" He doesn't expect her to answer. She never has before and, as usual, she turns an interesting shade of pink and stares out the window. "Come onnnn," he wheedles.
She presses her lips together and scrunches her toes against the cold windshield. "I will admit I was…curious."
He sniffs haughtily. "I shall just have to ask Drew."
"Don't you dare!"
His laugh this time is positively evil. "Why? What are you afraid he'll tell me?"
She huffs at him. "He's going to tell you a pack of dirty lies is what he's going to tell you."
"Oh, I'm so sure."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Grand Junction, Colorado
2: 13 PM Eastern Standard Time
12:13 PM Mountain Standard Time
"Stop here! Stop here."
He swerves across two lanes to the exit ramp. "What? What's here?"
"Colorado National Monument."
He groans. "I am not climbing any more hills."
"Yes, you are. Come on." She grins wickedly and holds something up for him to see. "Besides, we need pictures!"
He frowns, genuinely confused. "But why?" he asks, baffled.
"You have an eidetic memory," she tells him. "I don't. And Minion demanded pictures. Wayne threatened grievous bodily harm if we didn't bring back documentation."
"What? He threatened you? How dare—"
"Okay, one: I'm pretty sure he was joking, and two: he threatened you." She chuckles. "He said, and I quote, 'By the way, threaten your blue maraca with grievous bodily harm if he doesn't bring back pictures or videos or something 'cause I'm gonna need documentation of you guys out of the city.'"
"Maraca?" he echoes faintly.
"Because you're shaped like a stick and your head is…" She waves her hands in front of her, miming 'big.' "And if he picked you up and shook you, you would rattle."
Once upon a time, this would have sent Megamind into a towering sulk, vowing revenge. Now, he bursts into helpless laughter. "I've been called a lot of things," he chokes, "but that—that is the best. And now I know what to send him."
"A maraca?"
He nods, still laughing. "I'm going to paint it blue first. With a little face."
"And a goatee?"
"You know it."
The sign is brown with white lettering, set in a pile of stacked reddish sandstone, and the monument turns out to be little more than a particularly scenic view. Had it been earlier in the year, the hiking trails might have been open and they could have stretched their legs a bit more. As it is, they get some decent pictures—they have to take two because the flash is still on initially and Megamind wants to turn it off. Roxanne makes fun of him for being picky about settings when really he doesn't even need a camera until he tells her he'd been making a silly face in the first one and wants a more serious photo.
The flash goes off again, and this time there's not much he can say to Roxanne's overly-polite query of, "So what happened to being a supergenius?" other than, "Quiet, you."
"Only I'd think you'd be able to figure out how to work a camera. Give me that."
"There aren't any buttons," he protests as she takes it away from him, "it's just a stupid touch screen. And it won't acknowledge my gloves!"
Fiddling with the settings herself now, she nods indulgently. "Yes, dear. Okay, that should take care of it."
She checks the viewfinder, then sets the timer and darts back to him, draping herself over his shoulders.
The camera clicks, the camera flashes, and Megamind whirls, triumphant. "Ha!" he cries, pointing at her. Unfortunately, they're standing so close that his enthusiasm literally knocks her over. He immediately looks horrified. "Oh! Sorry!"
He reaches down to help her to her feet, and she takes his hand. Then…
"Kyaaaargh!"
He arches his back, scrabbling frantically at his collar as Roxanne dances away, dusting the snow off her gloves and ignoring his pained shriek. "No—getitoff getitoff—"
"Ha ha!"
"Cold!" With an effort, he stops hopping around and clamps his arms over his chest, glaring at her with Pavel's face. "That was evil."
She stands a safe distance to the side, grinning. "You knocked me in the snow, I dumped snow down your back. We're square."
"Square?" he repeats, incredulous and wide-eyed. "You dumped snow down the back of my neck." His shoulders are slowly tilting to the left in a drawn-out, vain attempt to dislodge the melting ice. "Why don't I just stuff some in your bra, see how you like it."
"You wouldn't," she says, sticking her tongue out at him, "you're a good guy now, but I have made no such claims. And I dare you to damage my dress. That'll hurt me and Minion."
He makes a funny tsking sound against his teeth, irritated. "Okay. Fair enough. But I will get you back for that!" One finger shoots into the air, waving in an agitated little circle as he leaps into a dramatic pose. "Mark my words, Miss Ritchi, you will rue the dayyou ever—"
"Crossed the likes of the criminal genius and master of all blah blah blah!" She jumps into a similar pose, complete with finger and Dastardly Smile #4, which is disturbingly similar to his own. "I know."
He drops his hand, looking distinctly disgruntled. "'Put snow down my collar' is what I was going to say, but if you want to be all dramatic I suppose that's fine."
She pulls off a glove with her teeth and goes back over to the camera. "Oh, hush. Go and change your armor. Look, let's just take the picture and get back on the road."
"I like that plan. That is a good plan." He suddenly resumes wriggling, letting out a groan of frustration. "Rrrrargh, why won't it just melt already?"
"Here," she says, finally just abandoning the camera, "let me."
He stands still and lets her scrape the snow out of his collar.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
East of Green River, Utah
4:30 PM EST
2:30 PM MST
"Someday," Megamind says out of the clear blue sky, "I'm going to buy that place."
Roxanne looks around, bewildered. "Wha…what place?"
"The Utah Launch Complex." He points. "It's over there."
"I don't see a launch complex," she complains, peering out at the flatter-than-flat landscape. Then she pauses. "What's a launch complex?"
He heaves a long-suffering sigh. "Missiles, my dear Miss Ritchi. This place was abandoned ages ago, but it's a great location. I have a secondary Lair at the bottom of the lake in case of…well, in case of things, but it never hurts to have a fortified land base as well."
"What kind of things?"
"You know," he says uncomfortably. "Things. Explody things."
She decides not to ask. "Okay. Well, are you hungry? I think it might be time for sandwiches."
"You mean the sandwiches Minion made us that we haven't been eating? Yes, I think so too. I'm beginning to feel guilty." He makes a face. "Supervillains don't do guilty."
She unbuckles her seat belt so that she can twist around and access the cooler, fishing out the Tupperware labeled 'Day 2' and rehydrating the contents. "Okay, our choices are…hmm. Ham again, salami, or…I don't know what this is; I think it's yours." Suddenly she gasps. "Oh. There's a tomato cheese one. Can I have that one? Please? I haven't had a tomato cheese sandwich since I was little."
He chuckles. "Sure, go ahead. I think the other one is probably peanut butter and bacon, I'll have that one. We'll eat the others for dinner; I want to get as much road time as possible."
"Thanks, honey, you're the best." She settles back into her seat and replaces her seat belt, squirming around until her dress is properly situated.
Megamind, who can't be as careful as he usually is because he's driving, sheds sticky bacon pieces and crumbs all over his lap, and Roxanne laughs at him. Until he points out that she has managed to get tomato in her hair, and between the two of them, that's the more impressive feat.
"I'd understand it if you had long hair," he chuckles. "You must have been really enthusiastic about that sandwich."
She huffs at him, but she's grinning. "We'll see who's laughing later when I kiss you with stale tomato breath."
"Me," he says immediately. "I'll still be laughing."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
As it turns out, dinner coincides with a gas station break, so they head into the building to stretch their legs a little. Roxanne decides to see how the pictures turned out while Megamind speed-walks up and down the aisles; there hadn't been much time to look at them earlier, what with all the snowy shenanigans happening.
"Okay, this is interesting," she murmurs, gazing fixedly at the viewscreen. Megamind, on his way past the next aisle over, makes a questioning noise. She calls over, "I think I've figured out why that guy at Lucy's Place was staring so much, and we're going to have to be careful with the camera from now on."
He comes around the end by the wall of refrigerators, already curious. "Why?"
"Come here." She turns the camera so he can see. "This is me and you at the national monument."
"Looks good," he says, "I don't see a problem."
"Okay. And this," she continues as she hits the 'next' button, "is me and Pavel at the national monument."
Megamind straightens, staring. "Oh. Oh." His brow wrinkles into a worried frown as she thumbs to go 'back' and he looks at the first picture again. "Oh okay then."
For all the photos they've taken so far, he has been wearing Pavel. But the picture he's looking at shows him draped, beaming, over Roxanne's shoulder in all his blue-skinned glory.
He looks at Roxanne, who bites her lip. "Remember how that girl said you looked a little bit blue that morning?"
"Let me see," he mutters, clicking the right arrow a few times. "Aha! Here, look." It's him as Pavel, standing by the brown sign and grinning like a fool. "I think it's the flash. Sideways light. It only hasn'tgone off twice, this time and the last time."
Roxanne picks up the camera and puts her thumb over the flashbulb. "Let's find out."
He nods and leans back, pulls a silly face. She laughs and clicks the shutter button, then turns the flash back on. "Cross your eyes?"
Instead he sweeps his nictitating membranes sideways and lets his mouth fall open, stretches out his hands in front of him. "Braaaains."
She's almost laughing too hard to take the picture, but a moment later there's a flash of light and Megamind drops the act with his usual split-second change.
"Okay, let's see." He takes one look and nods. It's easy enough to see that the second picture of him is blue and the first isn't. "Well, we'll just have to make sure the flash stays off from now on. I'll play around with the settings while you drive, see if I can't figure out how to turn it off permanently."
"I kind of like it," she admits as they pull back onto the highway, and he cocks an eyebrow at her. "We can take pictures of me and you together, instead of me and your human face, and no one but us will know."
"That's true," he agrees. "Well, we'll turn it back on every once in a while, then." He scowls at the touch screen, then heaves a resigned sigh and begins the tedious process of taking off his gloves.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Bonneville Salt Flats, Utah
9:04 PM EST
7:04 PM MST
Roxanne yawns and blinks a few times, shaking her head and peering at the road. "You awake, sweetie?"
Megamind had put his seat back shortly before sunset some hours ago and hasn't moved since, but he doesn't sound like he's just woken up. "I am. What's wrong?"
"Did you sleep at all?" she grins, and he sits up.
"As a matter of fact, I did. For over an hour!" he exclaims proudly. "I've just been drifting since then." He squints out the window. "I see we're still driving through the Land of Flat. I kind of miss the mountains."
"You should have seen it earlier; we've been driving across the salt flats for the past hour or so. The sunset was really nice but I didn't want to wake you." She rolls her shoulders, flexes her hands one at a time. "Can we trade off driving soon? My hands are starting to cramp up and I'm pretty tired."
He nods. "Of course we can. We can trade off now, if you like—it's not like there's anybody else on the road. Pull over."
"I can wait until we get to a gas station, that's okay."
Long fingers flick over the dashboard display he'd installed weeks ago. It scrolls something back at him, and he shakes his head at Roxanne. "No," he says, "Pull over."
Mystified, she shrugs and puts on her four-ways, slowing down and driving fully off the road. Megamind opens his door. "Turn off the car and come outside," he says, but he's already out the door before Roxanne can ask him why they're doing this.
"Okay, here I am," she says, shivering a little. Her winter coat is warm, but not designed for Utah at night in December. "What are you doing?"
He's walking away from the car and the highway with a purpose, staring intently up at the sky. "Come with me," he calls over his shoulder. "We're far enough south; I want to show you something."
She shoves her hands under her arms and jogs after him, leaving little puffs of breath vanishing behind her. Megamind is walking very quickly, and by the time he stops—well beyond where headlights can reach them, had there been any other cars on the road—her ears are starting to burn with cold.
He halts without warning. "Look," he says. "Up."
She glances up, then freezes, her small discomfort forgotten. "Oh," she gasps. "Oh, wow."
Out here, so far away from the lights of the city—from any lights at all—there are more stars than she has ever seen in one place. It's so easy for her to forget that the major constellations aren't the only stars in the sky, that Venus and Sirius aren't the only visible lights in most parts of the world. It's so easy for her to just focus on the here and now, on the problems in her life that seem so massive and all the wonderful little joys that seem so important from day to day, week to week, month to month.
But. The sky.
Those are all stars, all those little pinpricks of light. Every single one of those little tiny lights is a giant flaming ball of gas surrounded by miles and miles of empty nothing, and here she is on a tiny piece of rock spinning through the blackness and looking up at it. And maybe, somewhere very very far away, someone else is looking back.
There's life out there. There are people out there, real people with hopes and dreams and secret fears and goals just like hers. Out there. In that.
So this is what it feels like to have her mind blown. She'd always thought she knew what it felt like. I think I need to sit down.
Megamind finds what he's looking for and smiles, then turns to look at his companion. She's spinning a slow circle, gazing unblinkingly up at the night sky with her mouth open.
He grins. "Breathe," he says in a low voice, and she exhales in a rush and swallows, blinks a few times.
Then she turns that wide-eyed gaze on him. Pulls back a little and blinks again. Glances up at the sky and then wonderingly back to him, as if she's never seen him before, as if this is the very first time she's ever looked at him.
He takes a step towards her, one tentative hand coming up. "Roxanne?"
"You—" She stares at him, really actually stares. "You're from there." It certainly feels like this is the first time she's seen him. The sky above her is full of stars, absolutely choked with them, and more points of light appear every second she's looking up at them, and Megamind.
Megamind is an alien.
"You. I mean, you're—you're not even close to human," she says, marveling at the sheer impossibility of that fact. At him. "We're not even the same species. That's amazing. That's. You are an alien, that's incredible."
His face goes slack.
She inhales and looks up again at the field of light. Miles and miles, a distance so vast that it's measured in time, and the sudden crash of comprehension feels like she's just swallowed something too big and too hard to digest, like there's a hollow place in her stomach, because she finally gets it. He's not human. She had known that but hasn't fully understood it until now—and now she can see why he had been worried. The understanding rocks her to her core.
She looks at him again, standing there looking like he's been kicked between the legs, and the hollow place whirls into warm light and color and blood roaring in her ears. "All those stars," she whispers. "All those worlds, and you came to mine."
Her hands find his shoulder, the side of his jaw and his neck—her lips seek his, and find them. After a moment, his fingers come up and tangle themselves in her hair as his eyes slide closed.
"I tried to tell you," he says shakily when he finally pulls away. "I did try."
"I know," she manages, still staring into his eyes. She touches his face. "But I didn't really know what it meant. The projectors...but I think I had to see it this way for it to be real."
"This doesn't—change anything between us, does it?" he asks. She looks at him, her whole face lit up with wonder.
"Are you kidding?" She runs her fingers over the curve of his skull, down the long line of his throat to his narrow shoulders, skims down the ribs she knows his coat is hiding, down over his abdomen to the jut of his hips. And then back up, and down the length of his arm to his hand—the rectangular palm coupled with impossibly long fingers. "You are the most incredible person I have ever known. And you're beautiful. Mentally, physically, whatever, you're just completely breathtaking. You always have been, but this…"
Then she blinks. "What? Did I say something wrong?" Because his whole expression has just blown apart and then shattered back together a split second later. "Megamind, what is it?"
"You just—nobody's ever—" He shakes his head, unable to speak.
Puzzled, she tilts her head. "I told you you were beautiful two days ago. And I know I've said you were physically attractive multiple times before this."
He jerks his head from side to side. Good lord, he's actually trembling. "Yes but—standing here, you just finally got it, and you still think I'm—and you're not just saying it either, you really do mean that—"
"Oh, for heaven's sake," she murmurs, determined to be irritated because if she isn't then she's going to cry for him and she's done that quite enough already over the months. She pulls him in against her, wrapping her arms firmly around his back. "Come here, you silly creature. Calm down."
"And—and here you are, standing there, loving me—whether or not you should; I just…"
"You know, of all the things you've ever quoted at me I think that's the most surprising? But I'm not going to sing at you. Nobody wants that." She smiles into the night, blinking up at the stars over his shoulder. "Why do you even know that play, honestly? And sweetie, really, I thought we were past this." The words are so simple, so casual, how in the name of everything can she sound this casual when her whole being is reeling in shock and comprehension?
"I'm serious," he chokes. "We are past this, we are, it's just that I…that you…sometimes I still can't quite believe how lucky I am."
"How lucky you are?" she echoes, raising her eyebrows. She lets go of him and flings her arms out to the sides, spinning away with her head thrown back. "Look at that! Look at all of that up there! You had years of planets to choose from and you came here!" She laughs, swoops in another tight circle, then drops her arms and looks at him again. "I still can't believe you're worried I might leave you. I am the luckiest woman on the face of this planet. On the face of a lotof planets."
His smile breaks a little. "Look—let's not go into that now, okay?"
"What's to go into?" she asks. "We already went over this."
"I know, but we didn't really finish it," he reminds her reluctantly. "It got sidetracked."
Roxanne bites her lip and sighs, tries to drag herself back to Earth and focus. "Okay. Then—then can't we finish it now? Otherwise it's going to be hanging over my head until tomorrow, and I'll be in a bad mood and you'll be nervous, and…I'm in a ridiculously good mood, now." She frowns. "I don't know what kind of mood I'm in. But I think it's a good one. Euphoric."
"Is that how it's pronounced," he murmurs, then stops and looks at her for a moment. This whole 'pulling over and looking at the stars' thing has already nearly blown up in his face. Might as well go all the way, right? Better now than when one of them is driving, in case he has to end up explaining about—about one of the more fantastically stupid things he'd done. Which he probably will.
So he sighs and nods. "All right."
She pulls up a little and blinks at him. She hadn't expected him to give in so quickly. "You sure? If you really want to wait until tomorrow, we can—"
"No," he says, abruptly decisive. "No, we should do this now. This is important, it's really been bothering me and I'd like to get it out of the way with some time to spare before we get to your mom's. You and me…we work through stuff. We need to work through this, too."
She's still chewing on her lip. "Okay. Well. Like I said, I don't really know what there is to talk about. I'm not going to leave you."
He takes a deep breath and pauses, looking up at her uncomfortably through his lashes. "But we both know the possibility is there. I need you to acknowledge that for my own peace of mind."
"It really isn't, though."
"Look, Roxanne—please. Please, just listen to me," he tells her. "I know. But it could happen. And I just want you to know that if the reason you have to leave is that being with me is just too difficult or complicated or dangerous, that's not a silly reason. I will understand and I'll be okay. That's all. Can't you please just take that at face value?"
She shakes her head. "No! I can't. I mean, thanks, I guess. But I'm not going to want to quit on you!" she exclaims. "Didn't you hear anything I just said?" She cocks her head, staring at him like he's lost his mind. "What is this about, Megs? Seriously, now, this isn't the whole 'I'm an alien' thing again, is it? Because we just went over that two minutes ago. I get it! You're an alien! In case you haven't noticed, I'm sort of fine with that!"
"This has nothing to do with me being an alien," he tells her, and then his brain catches up with his mouth and he back-paddles. "I suppose it is, a little bit—but not like you think!" he adds quickly when she scowls blackly and opens her mouth. "It's the public's reaction to me being with you. It's going to be bad, Roxanne. You need to understand that."
"What's to understand?" She throws up her hands. "Yeah, the media will have a field day and people are going to be mad at us. So what? I'm not just going to quit you because of that!"
"I told you," he snarls, finally starting to get mad, "I've been there. All I'm saying is that if you wanted to, I would understand!"
"You didn't quit."
"Not for lack of trying."
"Then try harder next time," she snaps. Then she pauses, because Megamind's reflexive reaction to that was to burst out laughing. She blinks. "What?"
He shakes his head, positively wheezing with mirth.
"What?" she asks, disturbed. "What did I say?"
Hiccupping, he tries to compose himself. "You know what?" he says, looking at her, lips still twitching. "Forget it. This isn't the time. It's still too weird."
Something in his face catches her, though, brings her up short. He's still deeply amused, that much she can tell, but for the first time ever, there's something guarded hiding behind his eyes. She has always been able to read him like a book, but something made him close off.
"What did you try and quit?" she asks.
"I told you, forget it. We'll do this another time." He turns and starts heading back to the car.
Now she's starting to be worried; he's not reacting right at all. "Megamind, look, I'm sorry. I just want you to know that I really have no intention of leaving you, that's all."
He stops walking. After a moment, his shoulders slump.
"I just wish," he says, and now he sounds annoyed, "that we could have these kinds of conversations without you immediately going into Reassuring Mode. Which, for the record? is not really very reassuring."
"But I don't want you to think—"
"I am not a china doll," he interrupts tightly, turning back around. His back is ramrod straight, his heels are together, his eyes are glittering dangerously. "You are not going to break my delicate little psyche. You need to calm down, take a few deep breaths, and wake up."
Okay. Now Roxanne is able to place where she's seen that expression before. Titan. It's the way he'd looked at her when he'd told her she needed to wake up and smell the coffee, the world is not a happy place and sometimes people really are just bad people. It's exasperation. Megamind isn't upset, he's not insecure, he's not even angry—he is deeply offended and irritated and annoyed with her.
"As you know," he says, "I have been through worse than anything you could possibly do and I have come out on top. I know you're not going to just suddenly up and leave—took me long enough, but I got there—and I'm able to consider what I'd do if we ever ended up growing apart. Interestingly enough, I think I'd be fine. Sad, initially, but ultimately fine."
He cocks his hips and clamps his arms over his chest like a bar. "Life goes on, after all. So, all I'm saying—and this is all I'm saying—is that I am aware that such a thing is not entirely outside the realm of possibility, and if it ever happened, I would be okay. And if it has to happen, I want you to be okay and not think you have to stay with me to keep me from doing something heinously idiotic."
She flushes. "That isn't what I—"
"I didn't say it was, but that's the sense I'm getting from your inability or unwillingness to discuss this with me rationally. Frankly, it's insulting." He fidgets, glancing at her again from under lowered brows. "I have my own reasons for bringing this up, you know, and they aren't what you think. I am not suicidal."
"I don't think you are!" she exclaims.
"Just fradge-ile, then?" he shoots back, cocking an eyebrow at her, and okay, maybe he has a point. He rolls his eyes. "Right."
Then he purses his lips and squints, frowning downwards. He's considering leaving it here, she can tell—she can read him enough to know that.
"Keep going," she warns. "Keep going, because I get why you're upset with me—you're right, I'm not giving you enough credit, and I'm sorry—but I don't get why you think the public's reaction to us is going to have enough power to make me want to break up with you."
"Fair enough," he says grimly, and sits suddenly on the frozen ground. After a brief silence, Roxanne walks over and plops down beside him. Her butt immediately starts to go numb.
"I love you," he tells her. "More, I think, than you will ever know. What's more, I know you love me back. I also know how stubborn you are. I know how you love proving people wrong.
"And I don't think you're going to want to break up with me," he adds, which makes her blink and look at him. "At least, not anytime soon. People do grow apart, if it happens, it happens; I'm not worried about it. But you do not know how bad it can get or what it's like to try to function when everybody is against you. It is incredibly short-sighted of you to insist with such utter conviction that you can deal with something with which you have so little experience.
"It's going to be hard," he tells her, finally looking at her again. "It is going to be very hard. You will lose friends over this. People will hate you. There may even be attempts on your life." He isn't joking; his face is completely open and honest—almost stern, which she hadn't expected and hasn't seen from him before. "You can't tell me you're prepared to deal with that, because you aren't. You don't know what it's like, and you won't know until it happens."
He lets out a heavy sigh, shaking his head, and stares back out at the distant starlit mountains. "My point is. This is going to be emotionally exhausting for you."
"And it won't be for you?" she asks, trying to keep from sounding accusatory. Luckily, he doesn't seem to take offense.
He shrugs again. "I'vedealt with it before, I know how to cope. You don't." It's true, loath though she is to admit it. There's a pause during which she tries to figure out a good response, but before she can think of anything he blurts out, "And that scares me."
She blinks at him, taken aback. This is the first time that she can think of that Megamind has admitted to being outright afraid of anything—as proud as he is, he must really be serious. "Well, I know it'll be hard, but…"
"But you don't understand it," he says. "Trust me. I've been there. I know how bad it gets. When all your peers are against you, I mean…it gets bad. You have to talk to me," he adds. "You have to tell me what you're thinking. Promise me."
"I'll always talk to you," she tells him, really astonished now and not bothering to hide it. "I'm not just going to stop talking to you."
"Yes, but if you really need to, there's—well, there's a good chance you won't want to." He offers her a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I mean. I didn't want talk to Minion."
A very small alarm bell starts going off in the back of her mind. Wait…
Her eyes go wide as the bottom drops out of her stomach. "O-okay, sweetie? I'm trying to read between the lines there but I'm really not liking what I'm getting from that."
He heaves a sigh. "Okay. Look. I didn't want to do this tonight, but…" His restless gaze jumps skyward, jumps to her, jumps to the ground and back up to the sky. "I tried to commit suicide. Twice? When I was fifteen. Fifteen was a bad year for me. And try to remember that I actually am perfectly fine now," he adds. "See how I'm not freaking out at all?"
Her brain flat-lines for a moment. "Megamind," she says again, but that's all she's able to get out.
When she continues to gape in silence, he slumps, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "Listen, Roxanne…I was going to tell you. Really. I just hadn't decided when. You don't just bring that up, right? You say something like that and people think you're a mess. Even if it happened almost twenty years ago."
There's a long silence.
"I probably should have opened with that," he mutters. "Just so you would have had a better idea of where I was coming from with all this."
"Would've been nice," she says faintly.
"It's just…I don't think you're going to do that, or anything, but it happened because…well, because I honestly couldn't think of any other way out. It was never going to stop. I almost destroyed the entire human race, but then things happened and I was reminded that there are good people in the world," he makes a vague gesture and she doesn't press him, "so I just thought, no, I'll just take myself out instead and that'll be the end of it, that'll fix everything. You know?"
"N-no, not really."
"Well, good," he says. "On a not-completely-unrelated note, it turns out I can metabolize cyanide really, really well. But listen, please, the point I've been trying to make here is that I don't want you to end up anywhere near where I was mentally. Or emotionally. That was a bad place. But if you're not prepared for what's going to happen, which you aren't, I'm…afraid. For you. Hal got one thing right—you see the good in people to a fault." He turns towards her, fixes her with that wide green gaze and stares her down. "But you haven't seen what I have, and I know that when we go public, everything is going to explode. People fear what they don't understand, and they're not going to understand us. To make matters worse, we're public figures; we're going to smash their worldviews in a really big, really loud way. And I can live with that. Iknow how to deal with that. But you…"
"But I don't," she finishes quietly, and shakes her head. "I just. I just told you that you should have tried harder to kill yourself, didn't I?"
He snorts. "Yeah, that was great."
"Of all the terrible things I could have said to you, I picked that one. Wow." She huffs a short, disbelieving laugh. "Okay. So. Here's my response—"
"You're crushing my hand," he says suddenly.
"Sorry!" She relaxes her grip. "Sorry. But listen, you know that as angry as everyone is going to be, it'll get better, right? The hype will die down eventually."
He scrubs his free hand over the side of his face. "Please."
"No, listen—I know. I'm sorry." She tries a different angle, one that hopefully won't sound like she's still trying to undermine his concerns. "Thank you for fighting me on this. You're doing this because you care about me and you're worried I'm going to get into a really bad mental place from all the hatred and everything, and you remember what that was like and you don't want that for me. So you're trying to explain what I need to be prepared for to give me some idea of what to brace myself against, because you know what it's like to have everyone against you. You also know that some of them will actively try to separate us, maybe publicly, they'll try to pit us against each other and make us think we can't even trust each other; they're going to want us to be so miserable together that we'll want to break it off."
He turns to look at her, honest surprise written in every line of his face. "Yes," he says wonderingly. "Yes, that's. That's exactly it."
"But you know what I'm going to do, when they try that? Because they will?" she asks, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. She succeeds, mostly. "I'm going to remember tonight.
"I'm going to remember that you gave me something incredibly personal just to try to explain why you were so worried about me and what would happen to my state of mind. This is the kind of thing I'd understand if you didn't want to ever tell me, but you did because I wouldn't listen to you any other way—and, Megamind, I'm so sorry."
She reaches for him, catches her arms around his shoulders and pins him against her with her fingers twisted into his coat. Her nose and mouth are buried in his scarf; she inhales hard and has to make a conscious effort not to sob when she exhales and tastes the fiery-leather smell of him. It's a strange angle to hug someone, since they're sitting side-by-side, but whatever, she makes it work.
"It—it happened a long time ago, you know that, right?" The highway and the distant stars go blurry, then clear even though she hasn't blinked—her cheeks are abruptly cold. "It's like with Washington. I am fine now, truly." He snorts, and then he's laughing. He's still laughing, after all this. "Ugh, I did not want to do this today…"
She tries to mumble something into his shoulder, but the stone in her throat jumps up and chokes her so she settles for clutching him even tighter instead. He may be fine now, but there were so many years that he wasn't and he should have been, he should have been. It isn't fair.
"I know," she finally manages to get out in a surprisingly level voice, gazing distractedly through the highway behind him, unable to focus on anything beyond how comfortingly solid he is in her arms. "I know you are. Now. But you weren't."
He sighs and rubs a hand through her hair. "I shouldn't have said anything," he mutters again.
"I'm glad you did." She sniffs. "Means I can tell you how incredibly happy I am that you're alive without feeling silly."
He chuckles. "I'm happy about that, too, believe it or not. Mark me, Roxanne." He puts his hands on her shoulders and holds her gently away from him, and tactfully doesn't mention her red eyes. "I am okay. But like I said, I want you to promise you'll talk to me. Me or Minion. Okay?"
"I promise," she says, "I will always talk to you. I'll never hang up on you. I'll never not talk to you after a fight. You and me. We work through things, like you said, both of us together."
"Thank you. That's all I ask." It's a lot more than he'd asked, but he hears what she isn't saying; I love you rings like gunfire in every word. He cards his hands into her hair again and kisses her in full view of the highway, his breath mingling with hers and curling up through the cold air. He doesn't give any sign of acknowledging the single Buick that flies past.
"Now, can we please not talk about this anymore tonight?" he asks when he pulls away, stroking her bangs away from her face with his thumb. "I was having fun."
"That sounds good," she whispers. "Fun sounds good."
"We haven't gotten to the reason I pulled us out of the car," he reminds her.
"Right."
He stands up, pulling her with him, and turns her around in his arms. "So. Getting back to how I'm an alien and you think that's awesome. See Orion over there?"
It takes her a second to locate the constellation—usually the hunter isn't lost in a mess of other stars and usually she isn't halfway freaking out—but his belt glows as bright as always and Megamind's gloved hands are heavy on her shoulders and she nods. "Yeah. Don't tell me that's where you're from."
"Hah, no." He tweaks the short hair at the nape of her neck and she makes a noise and shakes her head. "I want you to follow the line of his belt down to the left. Do you know which one Sirius is?"
"The bright one. Now my neck is all tickly, thanks."
He nudges her, laughing in her ear. "They're all bright, Roxanne. That's the point."
She shoves back, not as hard as she usually would, but she feels him grinning against her cheek and starts to feel better. "Honey, I live with an alien. I think I know how to find Canis Major."
He actually laughs at that. "Keep following that line. There are three stars in almost a line, not quite perpendicular to Orion's belt but almost. The middle one is closer to the bottom one. They're a little hard to distinguish from the rest, but…" He lifts an arm and points to them. "That kind of a shape. About as far again from Sirius as Sirius is from the last star in Orion's belt."
She squints, trying to make sense of his cryptic instructions. "They're…okay. I see them."
"Good. Now imagine that the top one and the middle one are two vertexes of an equilateral triangle aiming to the left."
"I think I got it…"
"Now, that invisible third vertex?" he says, suddenly shy. "You can't see it, it's too dim for the human eye to pick up without a telescope—but that's where I'm from."
Roxanne's mouth falls open. "Wait, really?"
He nods. "I've never been able to show you before because Michigan is so far north. I've never seen it from this vantage, myself; I've always had to route the image through from my doom-satellite."
She puts her hands on his and leans back against him, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. "I feel small."
"Puts it in perspective, doesn't it? I'm from so far out you can't even see where my house was."
"Past tense," she murmurs. "I'm sorry. I don't know if I've ever told you that."
"It's okay," he says. "I don't really remember."
"Liar." She turns around, finds him smiling quietly. "You don't forget anything."
"Such is life." He looks back up at the stars. "You all right?"
She takes a deep breath and offers up a wan sort of grin. "It's a lot to take in, but…I'm okay if you're okay."
"Oh, I am more than okay," he assures her with an easy smile. "I've been okay for a long, long time, and I've been more than okay ever since I woke up in your bed this summer and you were all cuddled up to me and warm and soft in just, agh, all the right places." He looks at her again, grinning stupidly. "We should get back in the car. I can't feel my nose."
She laughs. "Yeah, sitting on the ground—my butt is completely numb."
His grin turns wicked and hopeful as he links his arm through hers and waltzes her back across the flat land towards the highway and the car. "I could kiss it. Make it better."
"You have to drive." It's her turn to shove him off-balance; laughing, he pushes right back. "I know you're the king of multitasking, but even you aren't that good."
They've reached the car. Eyes dancing, he bumps his nose into hers; his is indeed extremely cold. "Want to bet?"
"Nope," she says, and ghosts a kiss across his mouth before jumping into the car.
Megamind presses his lips together, grinning and shaking his head, then takes one last look over his shoulder at the light he can barely see before getting back in the car and cranking up the heat. Roxanne is already fussing with the radio, but as soon as they find a good station she's settled back in her seat with her eyes closed, nodding along to the music.
He glances down at where her hand is tangled up with his on the center console and realizes that he's still grinning. He could be wrong, but he's pretty sure they've just covered the last of the things he'd been worried about sharing with her, and it's—fine. It's all fine, they're both fine, they've worked through it. The two of them. Together.