A few days have passed since what happened. You've gotten over yourself and your anger at having been interrupted. But, every once in a while, you still catch yourself thinking of ways how you can be of some help to the hero. You can't stop yourself from thinking no one else will do it if you don't. No one wants to see weakness in the hero; they blind themselves to it. Even if that 'weakness' is simply emotions, felt by them all, themselves. To them, he's an icon. He's Megamind the hero, not Megamind the man.
Wherever crime is, he will undoubtedly show up to negate it. It seems, then, that your best bet to meet him again would be to get yourself into more trouble. You remember how those lazy bank robbers didn't even put any effort into trying to get around security and quite literally announced their presence with those explosives—went insanely heavy on the gunpowder, too. They nearly leveled the building. Apparently desperate people do desperate things, but it might simply have been that they were tired and just wanted to get caught. You can't claim to know how they think, but you are thankful for them, really. Without them, that day would have been really quite boring. Instead, its effects reach far enough that here you are trying to think up possible ways to be in 'the wrong place at the wrong time' again. For you though, it would be 'the right place at the perfect time'.
On the edge of your bed you sit, absentmindedly fingering the corner of the autograph, your other hand holding your chin as you take your best shot at masterminding a scheme you begin referring to as 'Operation: Rendezvous'. But, it isn't for selfish reasons that you want to see him again. Even if you really did enjoy being so close to him when you had been, this is about him. You remind yourself about how no one else seems to notice that he isn't okay. Physically, he is as he always was, but emotionally and mentally he isn't all there. Even when he rescued you, he didn't even bring the spider bot and try making a game of the whole thing like he usually does. He just... dehydrated them and was done with it. Very bland, very simple; very not Megamind. It was as though he couldn't be bothered to do much else.
His retelling of the events told things a different way, though. Reading it over for the umpteenth time, you compare it to what really happened, which wasn't much of anything, truth be told. Based on where Minion appeared from with the car, you imagine he either dropped Megamind off around the corner where he made his way to you on foot, or he pulled up right at the scene and then went off to park while the hero did his thing. Either way, Megamind took the car. He stepped out. He zapped the felons. He won. What he wrote, though... He scribed a story that really would have been amazing to see. This is what he wanted to do. But, he wasn't feeling it. His mind was elsewhere. The music and the lights were literally just for show.
You've put the pieces together, and as the sun sets you begin to play with the idea of walking the streets at night just to tempt fate. If something were to happen, would he come to your aid again, or would his brainbots step in for him and whisk the perpetrator away? You ask yourself these things, but really what you're most interested in figuring out is why you're so preoccupied with the notion of helping him, anyway. It isn't your responsibility, yet you feel an obligation. Is it because the hero always needs to be so strong, and you want to offer to help shoulder his burden? Or is it because you know he will never ask for help on his own?
Either way, you cut your thoughts short.
With all this running though your mind, you aren't going to be able to sleep. A refreshing nighttime walk should clear your head. You aren't going to purposely get yourself into any trouble. But, there's someplace you want to go.
The air is crisp and cool as you take your first step outside. The stars and moon shine with beautiful white light, and paired with the street lamps and occasional brainbot glowing red and blue, there really is no complete darkness. You feel safe even without the sun, and your stroll is fairly uneventful. You run your hands through the pool of still water in front of city hall, sending ripples across its reflective surface. But, beautiful as it is with the sky and its stars mirrored in it, it isn't what you had come out for. With all the light you made note of one your way down here, nothing was lit up quite as dramatically as the museum right across the road; Megamind's museum.
Big fans of his make this trip somewhat of a weekly venture—probably daily if they are anything like the woman you bumped into the other day. You however, well, you come here when you need a change of scenery and a place to think. The walls of your room can only do so much to inspire deep thoughts, but whenever you come here you just feel at ease.
Inside, there are bronze statues, plaques, replicas and a great many other things from Megamind's heroic efforts. This place used to be dedicated to Metro Man, and those who never forgave Megamind for his death still cry 'murderer' whenever he's brought up in conversation. It doesn't change your opinion of him, though. You feel like you know him better than that, even though you may never have had a full conversation with him. You just know there's no way he didn't feel terrible about what happened.
But, you were letting your thoughts wander too far off track. You barely even realized you had already taken the escalator and were headed for the elevator to the glass balcony. The walkway encompasses the perimeter of the enormous likeness of Megamind which is the museum's crowning glory. Usually—especially when you come this late—there's no one else here. It's a good place to reflect. This time, though... you can swear you hear footsteps coming from the other side of the giant statue. Who could it be? You find yourself curious to see who else might show up here at such an hour, and before you know it you actually start walking toward the sound.
It doesn't take long before the figure come into sight.
"...!" You're speechless at first, and rightly so. You had given up on enacting your plan tonight but somehow it worked on its own.
"Megamind?" He's in what appear to be his pajamas, but even they still have the cape and dramatic, high collar everyone's used to seeing him with. Your voice seems to shake him from his thoughts and he straightens himself from his position of leaning forward over the balcony. He turns to face you with his eyes visibly searching his mental archives for what he remembers of you.
"We meet again, [y/n]," he then says, and you feel your face flush at his mention of your name. You're not surprised that he hadn't forgotten, but you just never really expected to hear him say it.
"I guess," you respond, trying to play it cool. "I was just, um, stepping out for some fresh air."
"Yes. It is a lovely night, isn't it?" He turns and once again rests on his elbows atop the barrier. You follow suit and stand beside him, but you both cast your gazes out over the city, neither one of you looking at the other.
"It really is," you eventually reply, nodding softly. A breeze blows past and and the two of you go silent as the moment stretches between you. Is he here for the same reason you are? Is this where he comes to think? Should you bring up what you wanted to talk to him about? You're afraid it will make him leave again. If-
"You know," he suddenly speaks, throwing you for a loop, "I tried to do everything right." You face him now, giving him your full attention. It looks like he's going to open up to you on his own. This, you were not expecting. Then again, you hadn't expected any of this.
His expression is solemn and altogether uncharacteristic. "But," he continues after a short pause, "as a villain I had always put myself first. Maybe I was overzeelous—I don't know—but I tried to keep her safe; I really did. I told her, I said 'if another villain tries to take my place, you will be their first target'."
He's rambling, but you can understand what he's trying to tell you. He knows how a villain thinks because he used to be one. In a way, that makes him the best kind of hero. The way they work and what makes them tick is common knowledge to him. But, even when he was a villain he never really hurt people. What he's scared of is the type of villain he doesn't understand; the type which has no remorse. If Roxanne had been held hostage by one of those, it wouldn't play out like it did when he was the one doing the kidnapping. They might actually hurt her, and the thought was unbearable for him. You feel like you might know what he's going to say next.
"I asked her to quit her job as a reporter."
And that was exactly it.
"She's always on television. The next big villain to try and take Metrocity would need to eliminate me, first. If we kept being so public about our relationship, they would try to use her to get to me. As a criminal genius myself, I know for sure that they would. I didn't want to lose her. I tried to put her first for once. But, she had worked so very hard to get where she is, and she's good at it." He smiles slightly as he no doubt envisions one of her TV appearances. "Most of all, she loves what she does." The smile fades. "She fought me on it, and I can't blame her. Roxanne—she," he mentions her name for the first time since he began speaking, "she told me that she understood my concerns. She said she understood, and I know that if she was ever in danger I would save her in a heeyartbeat. But, what if I'm not fast enough? So, we agreed to publicize ourselves less, and... we just drifted apart."
So, that was it. That was why they weren't together any more. He had to let her go to keep her safe. Seeing him this way, his sorrowful eyes and slumped posture, it made your heart sink. He still loves her. He probably always would. Still, you're standing before him in silence. The city's hero is baring his heart to you. You wanted to help him. So, say something.
"I'm," you begin, your voice catching in your throat as you realize you hadn't thought this far, "I'm sorry." Come on, you can do better than that. "I think... well, maybe it's better this way? I mean... now she's mostly safe from being personally targeted by some villain who wants to draw you out. To be honest though, any villain could threaten any person and you'd come running. That's just the kind of hero you are, but it isn't a bad thing. You saved me, right?"
He blinks, a blank expression dominating his face, and then he finally turns toward you, almost as if he had forgotten you were there. "You're right," he murmurs with disbelief lining his tone. "I did save you." For a moment, he just stares at you with furrowed brows, confused. You mirror him with your expression. What is he thinking? Did you say something you shouldn't have?
"This talk has been incredibly insightful," he suddenly says as he springs up with a new glimmer of hope in his eye. You start to think he's just gonna take off again when he turns around and starts to make his way back inside the museum. But, he pauses mid stride and looks over his shoulder at you. "Aren't you coming?"
You don't know what he means but you aren't about to question him, and instead simply follow him inside as he asked. The elevator ride is spent in silence, but once the doors open he spreads his arms wide and gestures toward the displays. "I'm the hero," he proclaims as the two of you walk. "It's my job to protect, isn't it?"
You just nod.
"So then it's not too late!" He laughs giddily for a moment before turning to you. "Oh, but it is late right now, isn't it? Since it's my job to protect, let me drive you home in the invisible car." He—you—drive—he wants to drive you home?
His thoughts seem to be all over the place; from 'it's not too late' to 'it is late'. But, you take him up on the offer. It just makes you happy that he seems to be his old self again, at least for the moment. He walks with you to the curb and starts reaching for what he probably thought would be the door, but there's nothing there and his hand swishes through the air. He turns to you and grins before leading you a little bit further down the road. Once he finds the car, he ushers you into your seat and then rounds the front to sit, himself.
You tell him the address of your apartment building and he starts in that direction. The ride goes by way too quickly. You'd much rather have gotten to stay with him a bit longer, but you know he's busy and needs his rest for tomorrow. You step out as he opens your door and thank him for everything, but he just shakes his head and responds with, "No: thank you."
He watches to make sure you get inside before he leaves, and your thoughts are swimming as you make your way upstairs. Well, you got what you wanted. You met him again and you helped him, to boot. You should be happy, and admittedly you are a little, but not for the reasons you should be.