Roxanne froze for a long second, unsure what had gone wrong this time. Was the water too cold? She'd been in a hurry and hadn't let it warm up. Maybe it was just stinging at his cuts, in which case he was really not going to like it when she got out the rubbing alcohol.

Megamind shifted his body so he was facing even further away from her, tension evident in the way he held his shoulders and clutched at the blanket she'd given him.

So maybe it was more than discomfort at the towel. But even if he didn't want her help, Roxanne refused to leave him like this. She wanted him to know she wasn't like that, wasn't like those assholes who had wanted to hurt him-

Oh, god, maybe she kind of was? She would never have done something like this, but there were a lot of kidnappings where she'd insulted his plans, his deathtraps, all kinds of things. Bantering with him was one of her favorite parts of the whole "hostage" gig. But what if he didn't see it the same way? He might think she did it for the same reason as Wayne: an annoyingly condescending sense of superiority. (Metro Man meant well, but he was… really narcissistic). And if that was the way he saw her- was he afraid she'd take him back to jail?

Megamind was shaking now, still looking away, and Roxanne realized he was trying to cry silently. Despite his efforts, she could hear the occasional hiccupping sob.

She put the towel aside and reached out to carefully put a hand on his shoulder. "Megamind," she tried, feeling even more awkward than before, "You must be pretty upset about, uh, your plan going wrong today. And maybe you expect me to be a jerk about it because I'm… not usually very encouraging? But I've never taken you to jail before and I'm not going to now. I just want to help you out so things can go back to normal."

He made a little croaking sound, fell silent for a second, and cleared his throat. His breaths were still irregular, but they slowed a little. "…you're still here?"

What? "Megamind," Roxanne reminded him, confused, "We're in my apartment. I live here."

He didn't respond to that for a second, then spoke in a tentative and confused whisper. "But I'm here."

"I needed somewhere safe to take you, all right?" Roxanne said, holding back all but a hint of defensiveness. "If I knew where the Lair was I would have taken you there, but I don't, so you'll just have to put up with me."

Megamind chuckled, looking back at her over his shoulder. One cheek, stained with tears, became visible. "As if there's anything to put up with."

"…what."

"There's more than one reason I always kidnap you, Ms. Ritchi. Your composure, your improvisational skills, the sheer number of times you've figured out the plot before Metro Man even showed up- you're completely brilliant. I honestly can't understand why you put up with me." He fell silent, looking at her with an emotion she didn't quite recognize.

That was- unusually direct. Then again, they'd never interacted quite like this before, completely outside the villain/hostage dynamic, and they'd definitely never interacted while he had a concussion. Had he ever gotten a concussion during a plot before? It was certainly possible, Metro Man usually took him to jail right afterwards so she rarely saw his post-battle injuries up close. And now that she'd thought of it, that was a little concerning. Maybe she should see if the prison would let her visit.

Roxanne stared at him blankly for what felt like a long time. He'd said too much. For a moment, it had seemed like nothing had changed, like maybe he'd imagined the disgust, but he shouldn't have allowed himself to hope. Hope hadn't helped him as a child and it was stupid to think it ever would.

At last, she spoke. "I never thought I'd be admitting this to you, but… Megamind, I enjoy our routine too."

What. WHAT. Had she really just said that, or was the headache he could feel coming on causing him to mishear things? "You enjoy being kidnapped? By me?" Of course he'd hoped, but that wasn't how these things were supposed to go at all!

She looked at him with what seemed like genuine concern. "I mean, the kidnapping part is a little annoying. Particularly the fact that you keep forgetting to wash the bag, that thing smells like expired perfume and charred keratin. But I'm totally on board with getting a front-row seat to every single plot! And you actually banter with me as well as Metro Man, which is like starring in a real-life action movie."

It really wasn't processing. "But- you- me?" He'd turned back around to face her without noticing, gesturing wildly at himself.

Roxanne raised an eyebrow. "What about you?"

"I'm an alien! A supervillain!" he burst out. "Or hadn't you noticed my head's too big, and my skin's the wrong color, and I'm constantly building doomsday machines?"

She went silent for another long minute, looking him over. What in Evil's name could she be playing at?

It was probably too much to hope that the way he was talking was another side-effect of the concussion. It had come out too easily for her to really believe that. But the alternative was that Megamind always thought about himself like that, and that seemed unlikely. He was too confident for that, wasn't he? Always smiling, even when he got arrested. Always standing back up, ready to get back in the fight.

She looked him over, bruised and still bloody on one side of his head, and thought about the way she'd found him kneeling in the snow. Like he'd given up.

Oh.

"Megamind," she started slowly, " 'it's big for a reason.' Isn't that what you always tell people? And the only people who think skin colors can even be wrong are bigots, and they can go sh-" She stopped as her tone abruptly became venomous, saving Megamind from the string of profanities that had been on the tip of her tongue.

He scooted away from her nonetheless, tears welling up in his eyes again. "I appreciate the effort, Ms. Ritchi, but I know you're lying. I heard you when you touched my head, you're disgusted by me. Just let me modify your radio and I'll call Minion to come get me." He fumbled behind him, pulling a portable radio she'd left there onto the couch.

What was he even talking about? When she touched his head, she- oh, "That wasn't at you! I was getting worked up about the mob in the square who threw things-" Then what he was doing registered and she snatched the radio from him as he tried to pry it open. "You have a concussion, you need to rest your mind, so no tinkering," she lectured him. She'd looked it up on the internet when she went to get blankets. "Please, just let me finish cleaning you up so you don't get an infection or something. I… I guess you don't believe me, but I really don't like seeing you hurt like this."

He looked at her blankly, head tilted and eyes narrowed like he was looking for something. Then he closed his eyes, trying and failing to hold back tears. "I believe you," he said quietly, "though I don't understand you."

"Good enough, I guess." Roxanne shrugged, trying to smile. She picked up the towel and wet it again, standing and moving over to his other side. "Okay, here's the plan. I'm going to finish wiping up the blood, disinfect with rubbing alcohol, and get you some bandages. If Minion hasn't found you by then I'll set up a distress beacon on the roof or something. Sound good?"

He simply nodded and closed his eyes again, face going blank. Roxanne faded deep into thought as she wiped blood off his skin, zoning out again. How had she never seen this side of him before? The breakdown was probably triggered by the concussion, true, but the depth of his self-esteem issues was so obvious that it was amazing he'd hidden it for- she didn't even know how long. Well, he couldn't hide it anymore, but now what? He certainly wouldn't agree to get professional help even if she could find someone who accepted supervillains as clients.

Just out of her field of vision, a single red light shone through the curtains at the window.

TARGET DETECTED: FATHER

OBJECTIVE COMPLETED: LOCATE FATHER

NEW OBJECTIVE: REPORT LOCATION TO MINION

SENDING DATA…

"bowg"