Disclaimer: "Megamind" is owned by Dreamworks. I am not profiting from this fanfiction.

Notes: The apartment this takes place in is a previous one from Roxanne's during the movie, as this would've taken place a few years beforehand. In another fic of mine (unfinished) I gave Roxanne five younger sisters, one of whom is her twin sister, Maxine. Max makes an appearance in this chapter. I also never expected to add any further chapters to this fic, but it seemed that this chapter would fit alright. And who knows? I might add more in the future too.

Sick Day

Roxanne had been fighting a cold for a week, the virus unusually strong, her prescription pills only slightly effective, when her day really started to plummet. Unable to sleep, she'd been laying on her couch, watching old black-and-white movies on her cable. She'd also been sniffling and sneezing, rubbing her forehead against the throbbing headache.

The coffee table before her had a TV remote, a DVD remote, her cell phone, three boxes of tissues (two of which were empty), a pot of cold coffee and a cup she'd been drinking from. Within arm's reach was a wastebasket, drawn in close from its usual place in the corner. It was filled with tissues and a little soppy from all the times she coughed up phlegm and had to spit it out.

And then she heard her patio door slide open.

She grit her teeth, the TV the only light in the entire apartment. Behind her, creaks sounded as someone tiptoed in, followed closely by heavier creaks. She could hear snickering.

Freaking Megamind and not-quite-so-irritating Minion.

"You win the timing award," she ground out, voice rough from not having spoken in several days, "I'll give you that."

He must have tripped, because there was a loud thud and then scrambling. Hushed whispers sounded, but she could only make out Minion's, "It's Miss Ritchi."

"Roxanne Ritchi!" he declared in his usual manner, jumping around the couch with flair, having located her. Then his face fell as he seemed to take in her appearance.

Old, ragged robe that she'd been wearing all week. Tissues clutched in both hands. Hair a mess, skin pallid, circles under her eyes and virtually no color to her cheeks or lips. She looked away from him to the television set.

"Yeesh," he groaned. "What's wrong with you?"

A sneeze worked up before she could answer, and she jerked from the force of it, though she still managed to catch it with her handfuls of tissues. She sniffled, an ugly, gross sound, before saying aloud, "It's commonly known as having caught a cold. Look into it." Her voice made her wince, annoyed at the nasally pitch.

"Sounds. . .hard," he muttered, eying her.

She tried a scoff, but it devolved into a series of coughs that she buried into the crook of her arm. Ew, she felt even more gross now.

"Sir, maybe we should come back later," Minion suggested. "You probably won't catch what she has, but. . ."

"What do you have?" Megamind asked.

She shrugged. "A cold? Whatever it is, it's persistent."

"And why haven't you kicked us out yet?"

She admitted that she would've, had she been more coherent. As it was, she looked back at the TV. The Count of Monte Cristo, the 1934 version, was beginning. "I'm not. . .myself," she tried to explain. "This virus has been kicking my butt and I haven't slept in two days."

He moved, and she saw him take stock of her coffee table. And, specifically, the half-full coffee pot still on it. With a swish of his extravagant cape, he turned, looking around further.

She couldn't make herself care. Let him look around. At this point, she couldn't even muster up any emotion to the thought that he had undoubtedly come here to snatch her up - again. A new plot against Metro Man every month, and she was always the bait.

It was to the point where she didn't really mind, but now she couldn't even care. Her brain felt. . .dead. She was hot and sweaty in her robe, yet she shivered every few seconds. The opening of the movie caught what thin attention she had.

Muffled sounds filtered through to her, and when she tried to focus, she realized her two guests were talking, off to the side. Trying to be quiet, no doubt.

She wet her lips, hating the awareness around her. She wanted to lose herself in the movie, not feel the slimy pressure in her nose or the tingling burn in her throat or the unyielding pulsing in her head. Even her stomach was rebelling, feeling like a yawning, empty cave.

When was the last time she ate? She couldn't remember.

The noise was continuing. Why weren't they stopping? Her TV volume was at three - so low she could only just hear it. Anything louder made her ears twinge.

"Ay, ay, ay," she groaned at last, covering her exposed ear. "If you're going to stay, sit down and shut up."

Silence fell. Blessed silence. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Then there was movement. Eyes on the movie, she could only see a flutter of black, then of blue. Megamind was crouched near her now, looking her over.

I look interesting, huh? she mentally taunted. Bet you've never seen a sick person before.

Then he moved again, sitting against the couch at her feet, silent. She didn't know if he was watching the movie or not, but when Minion took up a post at her head, she felt a little better. It may not be the best company she'd ever had, but she glad to have someone else here.

Not that she imagined she'd remember this later.

The odd question was asked as the movie passed, from either of her guests. She answered automatically, without comprehending what it was she'd heard. At one point she glanced over at movement, seeing that Megamind had shifted to bring his knees up, and was dumbfounded. When did he get here? Why is he watching my TV? she wondered.

And then, resigned, Whatever. She refocused on the TV. Every so often, she had coughing attacks, or sneezed, or grabbed her head and groaned. Without thought, she blew her nose and hacked up phlegm, adding the liquid and more wadded tissues to the wastebasket.

She was unaware of anything she said or did after the moment had passed. Though she was hungry, she kept forgetting that fact once a few seconds had gone by. Though she was tired, staring blankly at the TV and yet not registering it, her eyes refused to stay closed. She was the weakest she could remember being, but she yearned to go for a walk or ride her bike.

Somewhere in the middle of the movie, her phone rang. Delirious, she realized she'd been thinking of her twin sister, Maxine. She grinned as though an inside joke had just passed between the three of them.

"I'd bet my life that's Max," she said as she reached, reached, floundered, and finally grasped the phone.

"Who's Max?" Megamind asked.

She didn't answer as she flipped the phone open. Maxine was displayed. She pressed a button and answered, "Ollo?"

Maxine's voice came through, "Since when do you say 'ollo'?"

"Since now," was her reply.

"Wow. You sound terrible, sis."

"Oh, well, I love you too," Roxanne replied with as heavy sarcasm as she could manage.

To Minion, Megamind whispered, "What's going on?"

"She's talking to someone on her phone," Minion whispered back.

Maxine was going on, making it harder still for Roxanne to focus.

"What's up? I don't usually get the urge to call you at two-thirty in the morning."

"I was thinking about you, obviously," was Roxanne's reply. They'd always been like that - psychic with each other, if only to an extent. Three years apart hadn't dulled them to the sense of when one wanted to talk to the other. Which is why Maxine's number was the first Roxanne had programmed into her phone.

"Okay, I'll rephrase," Max said. "What's got you down?"

Instant dread settled in Roxanne. "I'm sick."

"For how long?"

"A week."

"A week?" Max echoed, shocked. "Have you been to the hospital?"

Megamind and Minion were still talking. She tried to shut them out.

"Yes," she answered. "Twice. They gave me pills."

"Well, haven't you been taking them?"

"Duh," was her sharp answer. "I've been as good as OD-ing on them. They're not working."

"Then you need to go back," Max pressed.

"Tomorrow."

"No. Now. Right now."

"I can't get up, Maxy," Roxanne sighed. "I haven't slept in two days - it's like insomnia caused by the symptoms or something. Oh, I should tell you this now: I promise I won't remember you called in another few minutes."

Max made a wincing sound, inhaling sharply. "Sorry, babe. I wish I could help more. Want to me. . .I don't know, send an ambulance to your place?"

"Look, I've been sick a week. I'm sure I'll kick it soon enough."

"I don't trust that."

"Trust me. I know myself. I'll kick it." When Maxine started to protest, Roxanne cut her off, "I'm already getting better. I haven't coughed once since you called. See? You're my medicine. Just hearing your voice makes my immune system kick in."

Max chuckled despite herself, then sighed. "I'm calling again tomorrow. If you're not any better, that ambulance is coming. Get me?"

"Got you."

"Bye, big sister."

"Love ya like a sis," Roxanne replied, smiling.

"I am a sis."

With a laugh, Roxanne flipped the phone closed, then tossed it on the table, sending it skidding. Maxine, the feel-good medicine. Ah, what a horrible, horrible lie. She'd been holding back a coughing fit for the entire conversation, swallowing to soothe the ache as best she could. Now she turned her face into her pillow and let them out, grimacing as the fire in her neck increased in temperature.

"Ow," she moaned, rubbing at her throat.

"Was all that true?" Minion asked, leaning over her.

She glanced up. "Was all what. . ? Oh, the talk with Maxine?"

"Maxine?" Megamind echoed.

"She's your sister?" Minion went on.

Roxanne narrowed her eyes. "Why would I tell you that?"

Minion had the grace to look ashamed of himself.

"You have a sister named Maxine?" Megamind was saying.

"You," she said, pointing at him - almost reaching his nose, too; he went cross-eyed to focus on her finger. "You can shut up. Don't ask those questions. I don't ask about your sisters."

She ignored the shadow that passed his eyes, refocusing on the television. The movie was continuing, and she would rather watch it than submit to twenty questions. Once again, time began sliding by, and soon enough she'd forgotten that Max had called.

When the movie reached its climax, showing Dantes and Mercedes in a tree, she started to cry.

"Wha-wha-what?" Megamind stammered, shocked at her reaction. He staggered to his feet.

Surprise trickled into her; when did he get here? Still, she pointed at the TV she could only just see through her bleary eyes, sobbing, "I want that. . ."

Both companions glanced at the television.

"A. . .tree?" Minion checked.

"No, that," she pointed, sniffling. Her nose began trickling with her tears, so she covered her face in tissues and ground out, "What they have. That love and devotion. . .I mean. . ." Her cries grew too harsh to speak through anymore.

She felt, more than saw, her occupants moving away. When she pulled the tissues away to grab fresh ones, strings of various fluids bowed from her face to the papers.

"Ewwwwww," she groaned, throwing them away. She needed a towel at this point. But then she forgot to get up and grab one, watching the credits roll.

For a long moment, she lay perfectly still, her arm hanging out. She was partially aware of movement and sound around her, partially aware that she'd said something, but didn't know what. Soon enough, she was alone again, and another movie began playing. This time, she forgot the name before the opening credits had finished.

"You know, sir, this seems like it won't work," Minion suggested tentatively.

Megamind shook his head. "Of course it'll work! She's in trouble, he wants to save her - all we have to do is convince him it's our fault," he reasoned, gesturing between them.

Brain bots hovered nearby, awaiting orders; more were working, watching chemicals boil, taking recordings with their single cyber eyes.

Megamind was overseeing it all, making sure everything was perfect. Nearby on a table was a familiar wastebasket, its contents strewn over the table. Liquids had been isolated, reduced to their basic compounds, and recorded on a slew of hanging notes. Through his considerable intelligence and knowledge-base, he was now aware that the reason why Roxanne's pills hadn't been working is because the doctors all assumed she had influenza, when she, in fact, had three separate viruses.

And once the results had been completed, he held up a vial of clear liquid, grinning. This would work, of course, without a shadow of a doubt. Although he didn't know everything about human immune systems, he knew that Roxanne would be completely cured of her sicknesses within a few hours. Provided she drank it, of course.

"Let's contact him," Megamind said, keeping the vial close.

Minion uttered one of his usual sighs, but went ahead and sent out a brain bot. Once it had discovered Metro Man and began a live feed, Megamind laughed into his own camera.

"Megamind," Metro Man hissed, offering the briefest of his dazzling smiles. "What do you want this time?"

"Oh, the usual," Megamind intoned, tilting his head. "You, groveling at my feet. The city right behind you. And eventually, the world. . ." This he said while uncurling his fingers, as though he could grasp it.

"Never," Metro Man shot back, his tone all serious. "I will never be at your feet. I am a mountain, and mountains never bow."

"Aha, but with enough dynamite, mountains can be reduced to rubble," Megamind countered.

Metro Man opened his mouth and shut it, eyes darting as he thought up a comeback. "Splashing the dynamite with water will render it useless," he finally said.

"Good thing I have a backup of nitroglycerine," Megamind grinned.

"Uh, sir," Minion interrupted, cutting off any retort Metro Man may have had. He made a continue on gesture with his robotic hands.

"Oh, yes," Megamind agreed, then turned back to Metro Man. "I have news for you, Metro Mawn. Your beloved Roxanne Ritchi has been infected with a virus I, myself, have developed." What a lie. "If she doesn't get the antidote within the next three days, she's dead."

Metro Man's eyes began glowing in the pupils, one of the few tells he had. This one said, That struck home.

Megamind lifted the vial, dangling it. "This is the antidote. I'll be keeping it with me, if you don't mind. Now, do as I say, and I'll gladly have her drink it. . ."

Metro Man had disappeared off the screen. Scenery whipped by as the brain bot spun and searched, but caught no sight of him.

"Uh oh," Minion breathed. "Sir, I don't think the trap is going to work. . ."

"Never give up hope," Megamind advised, turning off his camera and settling in at the controls. Now all he had to do was wait.

If all worked out, Metro Man would come crashing in through the ceiling as he usually did. But he would go straight through an illusion of the floor beneath (predictable, since Metro Man always slammed into the ground). Beneath was a vat of extremely potent chemicals meant to put him to sleep. And then, once he was under -

A crash sounded as the ceiling was broken through, interrupting Megamind as he recounted his latest brilliant plan.

The first problem came about when Metro Man didn't touch ground. He was right in front of Megamind in an instant, yanking him off the ground by his spiked collar.

The fury in his face made Megamind believe there would be no further witty banter between them.

"Checked on Roxanne before coming here, I assume?" Megamind asked with a cruel grin. "Then you know how serious her situation is."

"Diabolical villain," Metro Man grit out.

"Flatterer," Megamind chided.

"Give me the vial. Now."

"Ah ah ah," he said, curling his fingers around the vial behind his back. "I told you how the game was to be played, Metro Man."

"I'm changing the rules," Metro Man bit out, yanking Megamind's arm from behind his back. He seized the vial before either villain could react, Minion reaching out in vain when Metro Man took off, breaking another hole in the ceiling and carrying Megamind with him.

Panic flared in Megamind. Metro Man had never been this angry before. Usually this really was a game, and they'd both play up showmanship before the inevitable ending. Being yanked around by one piece of clothing wasn't on his list of fun-filled activities before landing back in -

He screamed when Metro Man dropped him, but landed not long after. He hurt his elbow and rear on the pavement, rolling as he went. Then he offered a sheepish grin at the number of officers he'd been dropped in the middle of. As he hauled to his feet and cuffed, he watched Metro Man weave through the buildings, his intent clear.

He hadn't lied about everything. That vial would cure Roxanne's illness, after all. And though his trap failed miserably, he accepted yet another tag of being bad.

Failed, maybe. But he was smirking in spite of it.

Still no sleep. For a moment, this afternoon, she had the inkling that she wasn't alone, but when she looked, no one was there. She chocked it up to her failing brain activity, then promptly forgot about it.

It wasn't too much longer when she felt herself lifted, finally focusing her eyes and seeing a wall of white and grey before her. It took a moment for recognition to spark, and she realized it was Metro Man. What in the world was he doing here? He never made house calls.

He was propping her up on her couch, her head limp on his rock-hard biceps. She wanted to ask him why he was here, but couldn't get the words out.

"Don't worry, it's almost over," he said in his best soothing tone. Something was pressed to her lips, something that felt like glass.

Liquid was poured into her mouth and she swallowed reflexively, not understanding what was going on.

"This will cure the virus Megamind infected you with," Metro Man told her, reading into her confusion. "His plot is over. Soon, he'll be back in prison - where he belongs."

Megamind infected me with a virus?

The cure must be working, she mused, for her thoughts to be this coherent this fast. And then she blinked, realization setting in. Megamind infected me?

She pushed herself up on her own, no longer seeing Metro Man before her. He infected me!

"That - no good -" she started, frustrated.

"Easy, easy, Roxy," Metro Man coaxed, pushing her gently so she leaned back into the couch. "Just try to rest. Is it working so far? Your color's better."

Whatever that liquid had been, yes, it was working. It was as if her aches and general sickliness were melting away. Her head felt less full, her ears unstuffed, her throat was soothed, her running nose was drying. Exhaustion still suffused her, but now, she felt as if she could really sleep.

Still, she wanted payback this time. This sickness had debilitated her for a week - and it was all part of Megamind's plot? What, to get her sick to the point where no human means of curing her would work? And how would he have known she wouldn't check into the hospital for good?

He must have been watching her, keeping tabs. Well, then, she decided, if he was watching this apartment, she'd be moving out real soon.

When Metro Man stood to leave, satisfied with her recovery, she grabbed him. "Wait," she urged. "I want to see him first."

Metro Man looked at her like she was crazy. Maybe she was. "You want to see Megamind?"

"Before he gets thrown in prison."

He looked her up and down pointedly.

She glanced down at herself. Oh, right, her robe - dirty, torn from the many times she'd run into things over the past week, and smothered with multitudes of bodily liquids.

"Wait here - or better yet, tell the police to wait - is he with the police? - and then come back. I'll be dressed."

"You're about to pass out," he observed.

"I'll make it a few more minutes," she bit out, forcing herself to her feet. "I'm changing."

"Then I guess I'll be back," Metro Man sighed, resigned.

In truth, it was as if he never left. Once Roxanne was dressed for outside and came back into the living room, he was still there, looking as if he wanted to clean up the mess but thought it'd be impolite.

"Take me to him," Roxanne ordered, brooking no argument at this point.

He gave a nod, picking her up and taking her on a slow flight down to where Megamind awaited in a circle of cameras and flashing lights. Once she was back on her feet, she confronted Megamind, pushing through the crowd with a strength she hadn't felt in days.

"You," she snapped, pointing. He glanced up, and she caught a flicker of some emotion before a mask of carelessness had been built. "You gave me some engineered virus?" she bit out.

He cocked his head. "Brilliant, wasn't it?"

She slapped him. It was both reflexive and intentional; she wanted to hurt him. For a week of her own personal hell, she wanted to hurt him. And the fact that he didn't care the least bit that her life had been in danger burned her. She'd thought - foolishly, it seemed - that he at least didn't want her dead.

Some twinge passed in her mind, a flicker of a memory, but it was gone before she had a grasp on it. And then she was just glaring, officers pushing her back now, away from the apprehended alien.

"I hope you suffer," she yelled.

Stares followed her as she was pushed further back, until she hit a wall and knew she'd been squired back to Metro Man.

Megamind waved his fingers at her, cuffs gleaming, his smirk just as satisfied and evil as ever, despite the way his cheek was darkening, reddening. "Ciao," he called before he was guided into the back of the police cruiser.

"Take me home," she sighed, feeling her exhaustion catching up with her. With no hesitation, Metro Man lifted her again, depositing her straight to bed.

She thought she murmured thank you, but was too tired to tell.

Although she did hear when Metro Man's voice drifted back into her bedroom.

"Don't you have a wastebasket in here somewhere?"

More than the idea that he would be cleaning up her living room, what caught her attention was the fact that it was missing. Where would it have gone? She had it last night, hadn't she. . ?

She was asleep before she could delve too far into her memories.