A/N: Copied from Ao3. I'm back! This was one I had already started way back but really wanted to finish. I will always be salty that they left a scene like this out of the movie. It was needed, for Roxanne's character development. Alas
Hurt, discomfort, self-loathing, anger, and sadness. Every emotion raged through her like a dangerous hurricane.
Roxanne Ritchi walked down the street, arms around herself, feeling numb with anger. The rain had soaked her entire body and as she looked at the puddles on the ground, she willed herself not to cry.
Just the thought that Megamind, someone she thought no more dangerous than a city nuisance, had tricked her, had lied to her, and toyed with her emotions so discreetly, left Roxanne in an unbearably painful state. More than painful. She had been played and perhaps seen as a part of Megamind's game.
She had merely been a conquest and part of his plan of ruling the city.
If she had been honest with herself, she had always trusted him. Megamind wasn't someone she would expect to rip out her heart so brutally, even after knowing that he had killed Metro Man. Before that day, Roxanne would have even said she felt a connection with him. Something she never really explored but had hidden and left to fester on the side. Once he had revealed his true nature in the game she thought they had been playing, as much as she knew she shouldn't, she still felt like she trusted him.
The death of Metro Man had seemed like an accident to her, no matter how much she wanted to hate Megamind for it.
That didn't change the fact that he had been lying to her for months. Apparently, Megamind had thought she was dumb enough to fall for his tricks, and it turns out he was right.
Roxanne walked into her apartment building, not even acknowledging the door man who waved at her. She blindly pressed the buttons on the elevator and walked inside, sighing.
With the smallest amount of trust she had left in Megamind, she wanted to believe how sorry he had looked in the rain, eyes cast downward and pouring, what looked to be, his soul onto the streets.
Roxanne wanted to believe.
The man she thought she knew, the one she had gotten to know over months of time together, she would have believed without question. But the man, forlorn, and broken down, with the most miserable expression she had ever seen on his face, was something she was struggling to believe.
Roxanne so desperately wanted to believe.
As she walked into her apartment, drenched to the bone, freezing, and mentally exhausted, all she could think of was the man she left alone in the streets.
When Roxanne had turned, for a brief moment her sadness and anger subsiding at the idea of his sincerity, she saw Megamind walking away from her slowly, defeated. When she had turned around to look at him, it almost convinced her to call out. Which, keeping her pride, she had not.
Truthfully, there was never a time that she had ever hated Megamind, no matter what the tabloids wrote about her. When he kidnapped her, he was the most respectful and caring villain she had ever seen. Sometimes she wondered if he was even that much of a villain at all.
Roxanne flipped on the light switch and saw the remnants of her apartment in disarray, from her early escapades. Megamind had been with her, helping her formulate and piece together his own plan.
Roxanne held back a sob. He most certainly had planned everything, presumably from the very beginning. He had been directing everything, sitting with her in her own apartment.
Blind fury and embarrassment bubbled in Roxanne's chest. She felt herself flush with humiliation at her own stupidity. Roxanne had thought she was figuring out Megamind's plan with her partner's help, and the whole time the evidence of Titan sat unknowingly right in front of her face. Megamind had probably been encouraging her in the right direction, not thinking her smart enough to look at his floating mobiles as a whole. Not smart enough to figure out his real plans of building a superhuman. Not smart enough to realize who was sitting right beside her.
Stepping forward, one of the papers hanging from her ceiling fluttered into her face. In frustration, Roxanne batted it out of the way, only to step into another cloud of sketches. With a flurry of emotional rage, she grabbed a fist full of them, pushing them out of her face, and ripped them down.
Wildly snatching at them, tangling herself in red string, Roxanne yanked them down in violent clusters. Every little drawing was a drawing from him. Every string hung up was one they had put up together. The pages fell down like streamers.
Roxanne's frustration welled up in her chest, making her breath short, and she finally let out a loud cry of pain, falling down to her knees.
This welling of emotion lodged itself in her throat and spilled onto her face in tears. The anger from before vibrating into cold, ugly, dejection.
Roxanne had put her trust in her partner and had that trust thrown back in her face. She had shared her own ideas, her own thoughts with him. Megamind had been laughing behind her the entire time, most likely not taking anything she said with seriousness. Like she wasn't worth the effort of getting to know normally.
And wasn't that just the problem.
She wasn't mad that Megamind had apparently wanted to be with her. She wasn't mad that she had been dating Megamind in the first place. She was fearfully upset that she had been lied to. That she had been a joke and only a mere prize to be won.
By the end of their relationship, because more than anything she knew she was never going to see him again, Roxanne had almost been willing to hand over her heart to him. She stepped out towards him and instead of him reaching back she felt like she had been slammed into a wall.
Roxanne breathed, her chest filling itself with air, hard and rugged, and by the time she exhaled her whole body ached. She was so very exhausted; mentally, emotionally, and physically.
Shivering on the ground, cold and damp, Roxanne pushed herself off the floor with a fighting effort. Nothing left about the night could hurt her any more than it already had. She dragged herself towards her cabinets, grabbing a bottle of wine, forgoing the glass, and retreated to her bedroom, not once turning around.