Cold Fusion: Hallows' Eve, Ch. 12

[dal_niente]

Finally, a long chapter that isn't all one scene! This one actually jumps around quite a bit, but it's important that it does.

The last bit of this is…well, it's about as dark as I could make it.  Roxanne's bad day gets worse, if you can believe it.  I dunno if it warrants any trigger warnings, but if you have a problem with corpses, tall buildings, and gravity, or with creeptastic individuals at their creepiest, you should probably stop reading after Wayne leaves.  "Let the Bodies Hit the Floor" (c) Drowning Pool, and "It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood" (c) Mr.  Rogers.  (And, as always, "Megamind" (c) Dreamworks.)

You know, I have always thought that characters are, at least a little bit, extensions of those who write

them.  So then I look at Sundown, and I think…what is wrong with me?

Getting close to the end of this section of story.  Getting close to the middle of the story that is Cold Fusion.  A lot of questions left to answer.  A lot of loose ends waiting to be tied down, tied up - tied in general.  Fit to be tied, all of them, and they will be, in the end.  Memory loss, a brainbot with a distressing capacity for intelligent thought, one kidnapping gone wrong and another gone very right, with no real way to tell which is which…The board is set, the pieces are moving.  The real question is, who's moving them? Megamind thinks it's him.  Someone else thinks it isn't.  Only two people know the truth, but which two? OH THE SUSPENSE.  XD

Only one more chapter after this and then radio silence from me for a while, so I can get a buffer ready for Twelve Days.  These Hallows' Eve updates are way too far apart.


Chapter 12

There is a silence like shattered glass.  Megamind reluctantly looks down at Roxanne, who has, to his surprise, not gone white to the lips.

"Huh," she says into the silence.  She looks perfectly calm, but also just a little bit blank.  Or maybe he's just reading too much into it.  "I should…I should probably get my restraining order renewed."

Megamind blinks worriedly at her, then summons up his very best Evil Laugh, just to be safe.  He has raised laughter to an art form, and he knows exactly where to throw his voice so that it rolls around the big room like thunder.

When the last echoes fade away, he turns to find Roxanne staring at him, her expression somewhere between confusion and grudging admiration.  "Where the hell do you hide a lung capacity like that in your skinny little body?" she demands, and Megamind grins in worried relief.  "I don't get it!"

"Practice," he says, and ordinarily he would sound a little bit smug because that's just who he is, but right now he only sounds nervous.  "Listen, I - I don't want you to worry, I didn't want to tell you, but…"

"No, I'm glad you did." Roxanne swallows and nods a few times.  "Talk about coincidences, right? Wow." She chuckles.  "Bastard always did have a good sense of timing."

Megamind's face scrunches a little, a sign that he's devoting more brainpower than usual to a particular subject.  "You're going to be okay," he says.  "He's not going to come after you."

"I think he already has," Roxanne replies.  "The men this morning-he's the only one I can think of who would send people like that after me." Her gaze narrows, sharpens.  "Do you think he's behind all this? The kidnapping? And the fire?"

"I don't know," Megamind admits.  Now, there are three words Roxanne doesn't hear very often.  "It's possible."

"I wouldn't be surprised at all." Roxanne rests her head, very carefully, on his shoulder.  He's so thin, she thinks.  So narrow.  He isn't fragile, she knows that, but he looks it sometimes.  "He hates you, Megamind.  Like, seriously hates you.  I'm pretty sure he wants to kill you."

Megamind laughs.  "Well, he'll have to get in line," he tells her, brushing his thumb over the backs of her knuckles.  "There are a lot of people who want to see me dead."

Roxanne very carefully does not react to that.  "I didn't say he wanted to see you dead," she says evenly, "I said he wants to kill you.  And even you aren't immune to bullets and knives."

Megamind doesn't react either.  "In that case, he'll have to take a number.  I can only field so many assassination attempts at once."

Roxanne's lips twitch despite the subject.  "I don't think you're a high enough office for it to be called 'assassination.'"

"Clearly, you haven't seen the people they've been sending after me." Roxanne can hear him grinning, but she can't hear any humor in it, and she is starting to think he isn't joking.

"Wait, how many people have tried to kill you?"

"Twenty," Megamind says, then grimaces.  "Although that's an estimate.  I only know of four…fifteen." He looks down, frowning.  "Sixteen.  Counting the one on Halloween."

Roxanne's eyes go wide and she twists around to stare up at him in alarm.  "What one on Halloween?"

Megamind shrugs.  "I was shot at.  Was in the process of stealing Maxence back from those…people.  I've had all sorts of people come after me, though," he adds quickly, as if he's trying to be comforting.  "I'm used to dealing with that.  It's sort of become an annual thing."

Roxanne forgets, sometimes, just who he is and who he had used to be.  Even more frequently, she forgets how much deeper his plots had run than just the grandiose schemes she had grown accustomed to seeing.  There's what he had said about Enron, and counting cards, and collecting rare artifacts to sell later.  The land rights, the mineral rights that had been signed over to him 'under duress.' He's a goofball, but he had been a much more sophisticated villain than anyone had realized.  He had always known what he was doing.

And he still knows what he's doing, at least to some degree-that much is obvious.  If he's not worried…I guess I'll try not to worry, too.

She forces her mind to return to the Chad problem.  "Anyway," she says slowly, "you know you're not very popular in the prisons, these days.  It'd be really easy for Chad to organize something like this.  He knows everybody.  And he's smarter than a lot of people give him credit for." It's why I was interested in him in the first place, she doesn't add.

Megamind looks at her.  "You really think it's him? You don't just want it to be him?"

"I would really like it not to be him," Roxanne exclaims.  "But these are exactly the sorts of things he'd do if - if he knew it would pull you out into the open." She goes a little pale.  "Oh - oh god, do you think he knows about us?"

Megamind shakes his head.  "I doubt it.  If he hates me as much as you say-well, it's common knowledge that I'm at least a little bit fixated on you.  But, no," he realizes, "no, he set those goons on you in the warehouse district.  He knew you'd be coming here." His brow furrows.  "I suppose he might know about us.  There are a few people who do.  Sundown, I'm pretty sure."

Roxanne frowns.  "You mentioned him before, I think.  Would he have told Chad? What's his angle?"

"I have no idea what his angle is, but I very seriously doubt he's responsible for your attempted kidnapping.  You met him this morning." Megamind watches her face change.  "What did you think of him?"

Roxanne takes a deep breath, lets it out.  Remembers wild hair and pale eyes, the eyebrows like two slash marks above them.  "I think you're right, I think he's a psychopath.  The way he shot those guys…he didn't even blink."

"He very rarely does," Megamind mutters.  Then, suddenly, he pulls his free hand away and uses it to tilt Roxanne's chin up so that he can look her in the eyes.  "Are you okay?"

She holds very still.  He is getting a lot better about physicality between the two of them, but he's usually still shy about doing things like this.  "Yes? I think so?"

"It's just, you've had a really bad past day or so.  Somebody you had been close to died, you were nearly kidnapped, you saw two people killed in front of you, you met one of the most dangerous men in the city-"

"I'm dating the most dangerous man in the city-"

"And you just learned that your jealous ex has escaped from prison and might be after you.  Oh, and you had a screaming fight with your mother and your boyfriend." Megamind's worried gaze flicks back and forth between Roxanne's eyes.  "Are you really okay?"

Roxanne smiles at him.  I also just laid a bunch of things that had been bothering me to rest.  "Yes," she tells him, "I really am okay.  I promise."

Reluctantly, Megamind drops his hand.  "Okay.  If you're sure."

"I am," Roxanne insists, already missing the contact and not entirely sure why.  She puts her head back down on his shoulder and shifts around a little, shoving herself more firmly against his side.  Megamind rubs his hand over her hip in response.  "I really am.  I…I need to think about it, but yes, I think I'm fine."

Megamind nods.  For a moment, they're both quiet.

Then Roxanne chuckles.  "Do you know when I first realized that I might love you, a little?"

"The park?" he guesses, remembering a summer day that feels like ages ago "That picnic we had?"

Roxanne smiles.  "Not Bernard.  You.  In all your blue, big-brained, spiky glory."

He shakes his head.

"Wayne's Fortress.  When you tripped over that stupid fluffy cape because it was too big for you."

Megamind gapes at her, and she laughs.  "I don't know, you looked so enthusiastic! So excited.  And I just…" Roxanne shrugs, turning a little pink.  "I just couldn't figure you out.  You were ridiculous.  And it was right after you'd asked me if I had looked back, so I was already kind of thinking about it, and it was - a shock.  Because you tripped and went sprawling and popped right back up again, like nothing at all had happened, ready for another go just like you always do, and…" She shrugs again and grins at him, a little sheepishly.  "And then the way you and Wayne handled each other was…totally bizarre.  I'd known for ages that he was nothing like his stage persona, but I'd never thought that you could-but then we were outside and you were all, 'no, screw this, I'm done, have a nice life.'"

Megamind looks really confused.  "And, somehow, that…made you love me? What?"

"No, that wasn't what made me love you-that was a lot of little things that all came spinning together.  But that was when I realized.  And so I went back down and talked to Wayne for a while, by which I mean I chewed him out for abandoning us, and he seemed to think you were a lot less of a jackass than you acted sometimes, so…I was still pretty conflicted about it."

"Hmm." He frowns, and then he gives a little shrug.  "Well, I'm glad you're not conflicted anymore.  You aren't, are you?"

Roxanne shakes her head.  "Not after today."

Megamind's eyebrows draw together slightly and he ducks his head.  "You're sure? I just.  I just want to be sure."

Roxanne sighs.  "Okay, sometimes…sometimes I worry that I'm losing my mind.  Normal people don't fall this hard for people who kidnap them for years and years.  I mean, they have a name for that." She doesn't say 'Stockholm Syndrome,' but judging by his silence, he reads her loud and clear.  "But I don't think this is what that is.  I really don't.  This isn't some 'bonded with my kidnapper' thing, this is…Megamind, I love you.  Like I said.  It's just convincing that little voice in the back of my head that's the problem, but even that's starting to get a lot easier-and after today, I'm feeling a lot better about all this."

"What?" He cranes his head around to look at her.  "But-we just had a fight?"

"But I can talk to you.  I mean, I've always known that I could, in theory, talk to you," Roxanne says quickly, "but now I actually can.  It makes a huge difference."

She hadn't realized how good it would feel to finally say all of this.  To admit to Megamind that she sometimes has a hard time trusting her decision to trust him.  To tell him how much she hates being unable to defend herself, and that other people keep stepping in to save her.  To admit that she hates her mother sometimes and that she feels like her life is just passing her by.  To admit that she finds the depth of her feelings for him almost insane.

Good god.  She's been saying all of this to Megamind.  Megamind, the cackling evil genius who had hijacked her life and used her in his schemes, who had put her in danger on an almost weekly basis without a second thought, and whose apparent megalomania was second only to his egomania.

Megamind, who had stood there with rain pouring down his face and as good as told her that he loved her.  Megamind, who held her and did not judge her when she needed to cry.  Megamind, who fixed the city and purified the harbor water and whose underground governance kept the citizens safe from Metro's crime syndicates.  Megamind, who rescues children.  Megamind, who had all but run to the man who had once been his worst enemy when Wayne had needed him.

"So," Roxanne finally says.  "So, are you going to ask me to come live here, or what?"

Megamind blinks.  Blinks again.  "Wait.  You.  What?" Roxanne just laughs at him, and his eyes narrow as red floods over his cheeks.  "Minion," he mutters.  "I will flush him."

"Oh, don't do that," Roxanne says in mock horror.  "The poor plumbers would never know what hit them.  But yeah, he warned me ages ago that you were thinking about it."

Megamind snorts.  "You're evil, you know that?" he says, poking her in the stomach and making her yelp and bat at his hand.  Then he sobers.  "But, Roxanne, are you sure you want to live here? With me? It's a big step."

"No, Megamind, I don't want to live here with you, I want to live here with Benjamin Franklin.  Look, I spend most of my time here anyway," Roxanne points out.  "My lease is paid through next May, but it's a sunk cost and I can afford it."

"I don't want you to do this just to make a statement, or something," Megamind warns.

"Mr.  Mind." Roxanne's voice twists with mock-severity, and Megamind raises an eyebrow.  Roxanne pauses.  "Actually, I bet that's Dr.  Mind, isn't it?"

Megamind's lips twitch.  "Not officially.  I collect under assumed names.  So…kind of? I guess?"

"Kind of…" She laughs and shakes her head.  "Dr.  Mind.  I am going to tell you something." She sits up and faces him, throwing throws a leg over his narrow thighs and straddling his legs so that she can drape her arms over his shoulders and twist her hands together behind him.  He tenses, green eyes searching her face for answers.

"Let me tell you something about kissing, Megamind.  I've kissed a lot of boys in my time.  A few girls, too.  And there are bad kissers and good kissers, and you're a darn good kisser.  You learn really fast."

"Quickly," Megamind mumbles, as a high blush crawls across his cheeks.  "Th-the word you want is quickly.  But thanks."

Roxanne scowls playfully and runs a fingertip across the hollow of his foramen magnum, and Megamind makes a noise that sounds like ngk.  "Don't correct my grammar when I'm trying to be sexy," Roxanne warns, prodding him in the chest with the index finger of her free hand.  "That will not get you laid."

Megamind snorts; he can't help it.  He promptly tries to school his features back into a mask of calm expectation, but it doesn't really work because his mouth keeps curling in at the corners, and before he can get hold of himself he dissolves into silent giggles and has to brace his head on Roxanne's shoulder.

"You are completely useless," Roxanne grouses.  Megamind just laughs harder, folding his arms loosely around her waist.  "I don't know why I even bother."

"S-sorry, I'm sorry." It's a good thing she doesn't ask him what's so funny; he's not sure he can explain.  He thinks that it has to do with the weird combination of relief and disbelief sparking through his mind.

He and Roxanne have just had a Problem.  An actual Problem, with yelling and tears and everything, the whole nine yards-and there are couples who wouldn't have been able to move past something like this.  But here they are, with all their issues and respective baggage, barely half an hour from Roxanne crying on the couch and Megamind shrieking at Wayne in the hallway, and they've sorted it out so completely that Roxanne is agreeing to move into the Lair.  Is almost asking to move in.

For some reason, it all strikes him as being immensely funny.

"Oh, just…come here." Roxanne hauls his head up and kisses him, pulls him in and drags her tongue across his lips, kisses him the way she had on the sidewalk two days ago.  The smile he sends her when she pulls back is slightly dazed.

Roxanne's little smile has returned, wider than it had been.  "That," she says, "was the sort of kiss Peter used to give me."

Megamind tilts his head curiously.  "Is there a point to this, then?"

"I said I wanted to tell you something, didn't I?" Roxanne returns.  "Just listen.

"Kissing Peter felt safe.  Secure.  But also kind of monotonous after a while.  He was a good kisser, but he wasn't like you.  He wasn't like Chad, either - nobody else was like Chad." She kisses him again, hot and hard, tongue and teeth, until Megamind breaks away, gasping.

"Chad was like fire.  He was a good kisser too, but he took." Roxanne licks her lips and shrugs a little, somewhat breathless herself.  "And sometimes that was good.  Sometimes that was just what I wanted, and you've gotten pretty good at telling what I want.  But you don't kiss me like he did.  You aren't fire.  You don't burn unless you're angry."

She half-smiles and rubs her thumb over Megamind's lower lip, and for some reason, that simple gesture makes his heart crawl into his throat.  He isn't sure why, but he has to consciously stop his hands from shaking where he's holding her.  This, he thinks, this is what happy is.

Roxanne doesn't seem to notice-if she does, she refrains from commenting, for which Megamind is eternally grateful.  "Which isn't to say you're not exciting," she adds, "just to clarify.  And there have been others, too.  In between.  And they were all fun, in their way, but none of them, not a single one, was like you.  Kissing you feels different."

"Didn't-wouldn't." Megamind swallows and forces himself to speak steadily.  "Wouldn't everyone feel different? A little, I mean? I-I mean, I wouldn't know, but I always thought everyone would feel at least a little different."

Roxanne smiles and nods.  "Yeah, everyone has their own tone.  But…here.  I want to try to show you.  This is why I want to live with you."

She leans forward to kiss him a third time, and Megamind prepares to hold still and let her do whatever she needs to do to…show him?

The kiss she gives him this time isn't like the two before.  It's simple.  A short, soft brush of mouth against mouth.  It's the sort of kiss she gives him when she comes into the Lair after work, or just before she leaves to go back to work or back to her apartment.  It isn't passionate and it isn't sweet; it's just a kiss, a hello-goodbye-good-morning kiss, a holding-hands kiss, and Megamind blinks at her, confused.

Roxanne leans her forehead against his and closes her eyes.  "Kissing you feels like coming home."

His hands tighten on her waist.  "Roxanne," he says, and now he really can't keep the tremor out of his voice, "you are going to make me cry again."

Her head comes up, and he resists the urge to follow.  "Oh-I'm sorry-"

He shakes his head, blinking hard.  "No.  I'm happy.  I'm so happy that it's making me cry.  Is that weird?" He looks at her, suddenly unsure.  "That's weird, right?"

Whoa.  Roxanne stares, momentarily lost for words.  We're going to have to start fooling around with the lights on, she thinks, I can't get enough of those eyes.  "No," she stammers, "no, that isn't weird, that's-I'm happy you're happy." The words aren't enough, so she kisses him again, leaning against him and running her hands over the curve of his skull.

Megamind is happy.  The idea seems much stranger than it should, and Roxanne can only think that, whatever else happens, she wants to be the one who makes him feel like this.

"Your eyes are seriously the most incredible things I think I have ever seen," she mumbles when she finally pulls away.  There's an odd rumbling sound coming from somewhere nearby, but she can't put her finger on what it is.

Megamind smiles and brushes his fingers through her hair, then glances to the side.  And laughs.  "You, um.  Okay, this is super-corny, but I swear your eyes and my skin are just about the same color."

"Please tell me you know the hex code."

Megamind blinks at her, smiles wryly.  The rumbling is more distinct, now, almost a deep whirr.  "I'm not that good."

Roxanne grins.  "A boyfriend to match my eyes.  I really am the luckiest person on earth." Then she pauses and puts her hands on his shoulders at the base of his neck.  Tilts her head and listens.

Then she looks up at him.  "Megamind," she says slowly, "are you purring?"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Minion isn't really surprised to see that Wayne hasn't left the Lair when he gets back to the kitchen.  What makes him pause is that the big ex-hero has his head down on the little kitchen table, huge hands tangled tiredly in his unkempt hair.  The ponytail is gone.

Wayne doesn't lift his head when Minion comes in, but he flaps one of his hands in what Minion supposes is meant to be a wave.

"Have you eaten?" Minion asks, his tone brusque and businesslike.  "I hear you're allergic to fruit, but I've got some lovely mushrooms and tomatoes and cheese that would go well in an omelette.  Any spice allergies?"

"Nuh-uh."

"And green onions?"

"The green parts are good.  Not the white."

"Excellent.  Omelette it is, then." Minion rattles the pans more than he probably needs to until he finds the one he wants.  "What on earth are you still doing here?"

"Thought you said I should stay," Wayne mumbles dully.  "But I can go, if you want."

"Oh, don't be a fool," Minion snaps.  "If I wanted you to leave, I wouldn't bother making you breakfast.  I'm not doing this for me, you know.  Have you ever tried to eat a soggy omelette? Eeurgh.  No, I'm only asking to see if it was just because I told you to stay, or if there was something more you wanted."

Wayne doesn't rise to his sniping or his faint attempt at humor.  There's a long silence.

Then, out of the clear blue sky-

"Sorry I called you a fish all those times."

Minion is so shocked that he actually drops an egg, which he hasn't done in years.  Yellow translucence spreads over the tile.  "Oh, shit," he says, startled into profanity.

Wayne turns his head, lifts a finger to his temple.  "I got it."

Minion rounds on him.  "You will not.  You'll scorch the floor."

"Then I'll clean it up," Wayne says, not lowering his hand.  "Blue mopped my kitchen.  I'll mop his."

"I beg your pardon," Minion says stiffly, "this is my kitchen."

"Fine, then I'll mop your kitchen," Wayne finally snaps back with startling vim.  "Pete's sake, would'ja just let me do something?"

Minion sniffs disapprovingly and turns back to the mixing bowl.  "As you will, then." There's a crackle, a muffled thump, and the smell of burning eggshells.  "Mop's in the closet to your right, opposite the back door." He doesn't hear Wayne get up, but a few seconds later there's a terrible crash and a muffled curse.

Wayne doesn't say much after that, other than, "Dish soap okay?"

"Dish soap is fine."

Minion focuses on the cooking.  Careful not to bruise the mushrooms, hold them lightly; don't crush the tomato, but don't let it slip out of your fingers either.  Wait to add the cheese until the eggs have cooked enough to hold, melt it a bit.  Scootch the pan around, loosen the egg mass.  Add veggies and more cheese to one side.  Fold opposite side over.

"So how are you holding up?" he asks, flipping the semicircle onto its other side so that the new cheese will melt properly.

"Huh?" Wayne responds from where he's putting the mop and bucket away in the closet.

"I said, are you doing okay?" The mop job is sloppy; there's still traces of soap on the floor and a great big puddle that Wayne missed entirely, but Minion doesn't mention it.

Wayne drifts back to his seat and put his head back down on the table.  "I dunno what you mean."

Minion presses his lips together and doesn't say, What do you think I mean? "My memory goes as far back as Sir's.  I remember what it's like." He looks around at Wayne as he slides the finished omelette onto a chipped china plate.  Dash of paprika.  Green onions on top to add crunch.  Down on the table, clink it loudly to get his attention.  It's been a long time since Minion has had to deal with moping, and he's a little surprised to find that he's lost a lot of his patience for it.  "Here.  Hungry or not, you need to eat."

Wayne sits up reluctantly.  The steel tumbler from earlier has appeared as if by magic by the plate, steaming invitingly.  "How did you know I wasn't actually hungry?"

"You've suffered a massive shock and it hasn't worn off yet.  And - much to my surprise - you're worried about Sir." Minion makes a scoffing sound and sits down in the reinforced chair Megamind had designed for him when they had switched over to the big gorilla suits.  "You're on unfamiliar ground with someone who doesn't like you.  Of course you aren't hungry."

Wayne stares at the yellow half-circle, dotted over with small green circles and specks of red.

"Do you not like onions?" Minion asks, abruptly aware that he had asked Wayne if he was allergic to them, not whether he liked them.

"No, I-I like them okay.  It's.  You just." Wayne picks up his fork and starts eating with a gusto that seems almost desperate.  "'Ss nuffing," he mumbles, mouth full.

Minion pours tea into his ice tray, then aims the ice beam at it.  Frost crystals spin minute fractals over the surface almost instantly.  "Chew and swallow."

Wayne swallows.  "Dad used to do this.  Sometimes.  On the holidays, when he was home."

Minion blinks at him, perplexed, and Wayne sighs.  "The, the thing with the onions, I mean.  On eggs."

Minion stares for a moment while that sinks in, then has to resist the urge to go beat his tank against the nearest wall.  Of all the stupid, inconsiderate… "I'm sorry," he says without thinking.  "I-didn't realize."

Wayne shakes his head.  "You couldn't know.  'Sides, it's…it's sort of nice.  Like maybe he told you to do that, or something, so I'd know he's not…" He trails off, looking intensely embarrassed.  "Never mind.  That's.  That's dumb.  I'm gonna shut up now."

Minion locks his hand so he can focus on Wayne without worrying about freezing the table or dropping the gun.  He watches the way the big man eats with his head down and his shoulders hunched like he's trying to hide: a far cry from the heroic posturing Minion remembers.  Shallow breaths, half-lidded eyes.  There's the shock, of course, but there's a lot of guilt, too, if what Megamind had told Minion last night is correct.  But that's mostly unrelated to his parents, at this point.  That'll set in when the shock wears off.

Distract him, Minion thinks.  It shouldn't be hard.  There are a lot of things Minion doesn't know, and a lot of answers Wayne can provide.

"Why did you apologize?" he asks.  Wayne glances up, then quickly away.

"Blue told me how much it bothered you." He shrugs.  "Never really thought how it came across.  I always figured calling you 'minion' was pretty rude, but I guess I got it backwards."

Minion sighs.  He might as well offer an explanation.  "Well, Sir calls me 'fish' every now and again, but it's an endearment, coming from him.  I don't know how I'd react if Miss Ritchi called me that to my face.  It's fine as a descriptor, but as a form of address…" He shakes his head.  "I really, really don't appreciate it.  The fishes on this planet aren't sentient, and I take offense to being grouped with them.  I'm an alien fish, not an Earthian one.  There are pretty significant differences between us."

Wayne looks at him then, surprised.  "There are? But-I thought-"

Minion shakes his head again.  "Prehistoric swimming reptiles weren't dinosaurs.  It's a similar relation, but the difference lies in taxonomy rather than time.  When it comes right down to it…well, I'm not cold-blooded, for one thing, so you can shove your Earthian taxonomical boxes up your nose." He says all this in a very matter-of-fact tone of voice, and Wayne's lips twitch with reluctant amusement.  Minion takes that as a good sign, and grins, inviting further questions.

"So, if you aren't technically a fish, what are you?"

Minion waves at him, unfreezing his hand so that he can put down the ice beam and crack the tea cubes out of their tray.  "I am a fish.  Don't worry about it, all right? It's complicated."

Wayne hesitates for a moment.  "Look," he says awkwardly, "you don't like people calling you 'fish,' I don't like people thinking I'm too stupid to understand stuff."

Minion pauses and blinks at him, then nods.  "Fair enough.  I'm an enteroavian archeodiencephalic endothermic ichthyoid.  Good luck finding another one of those on this planet."

Wayne stares at him in consternation.  "Say that slower."

"Good luck finding another one of those on this planet."

"Oh c'mon," the ex-hero grumbles, "now you're just being facetious."

Minion's brow ridge flies up and his fins flare.  Wayne rolls his eyes.  "Oooh, yes, I know a big word.  Alert the press: Metro Mahn has an actual vocabulary." He puts air quotes around 'man,' and Minion has just barely manages to turn his snort at Wayne's approximation of Megamind's broad inflection into a hasty cough.  Wayne returns to his normal voice.  "Would you please just humor me? 'Cause otherwise you're gonna be Small Fry from now on."

"Small Fry? Save me from the inhumanity."

"I'm retired.  Come on."

Minion can't hold back the humor, that time, and actually chuckles.

Part of him wants to stay angry, wants to hold onto the grudge.  He wants to be angry with Wayne for manhandling Megamind, for yelling at him, for making Sir shrink back against the wall and lose himself completely.  And, truth be told, part of him is still mad.

But it's a disconcertingly small part.  He had seen Wayne's face when he'd asked if Megamind was going to be okay.

"Enteroavian archeodiencephalic endothermic ichthyoid."

Wayne frowns, thinking.  "I know what 'endothermic' is, that's warm-blooded, right? And I'm guessing ichthyoid is, well, 'oid' is like, 'like a,' so…'like a fish?'"

"Pretty much," Minion confirms.  He drops a few teacubes through the hatch on his dome, snatches one into his mouth and chews.  "The rest of it means that my digestive tract closely resembles that of Earth's birds, and that my brain is…" He pauses, thinking.  "…Complex? We actually aren't sure about that one."

Wayne reaches for the saltshaker and upends it, dumping salt onto the tabletop.  Minion is too baffled by the action to comment.  "Not sure? How can you not be sure?"

"Well, it's a translation." Minion frowns and decides not to say anything about the salt.  "It means, 'old double-brain.' We haven't been able to make sense of it yet - I only have one brain.  Sir's parents were able to put some basic information about the two of us in his shuttle, but there wasn't time for much, and there are a lot of holes in what we know.  We're not even sure how his people and mine communicated.  Sir remembers his parents having minions, but he doesn't remember either of them speaking."

"At least you remember something," Wayne grumbles, jiggling more salt onto the table.  He puts down the shaker and starts pushing the grains into a little mound.  "The information in my shuttle is all I have.  A bunch of technical documents, some medical diagrams, I can't read any of them.  A few pictures of people I don't know.  There's some music."

"Music?" Minion can't look away.  Wayne is trying to balance the saltshaker on one edge of its base, using the mound of salt as a support.

Wayne nods.  "One of the pictures is of a couple who I think are probably my parents.  They're holding instruments." He cautiously lifts his hands away from the saltshaker.  It stands.  "I guess I have a musical background," he mutters, frowning at it.

"Is there any singing?" Minion asks, thinking about vocal recordings and his boss's fondness for new languages.

"No." Wayne's tone goes flat.  The saltshaker falls over with a forlorn tink like an apology.  "I can't sing."

Minion blinks at him.  "Ah…" He tilts his head.  "Should you be able to?"

"I can play," Wayne says reluctantly.  His face looks like a book that's just fallen closed.  "Really - well, depending on the instrument.  But I can't sing."

Minion has the distinct feeling that this topic is slipping away from him, somehow.  "What do you play?"

"Mom sang.  Sings." Wayne slumps a little.  What life he had gained during the brief conversation bleeds out of him, flows down the liveliness gradient and is lost in the dead air around him.  His face goes still and tired again.  "I should go see her," he whispers.

Aha, we're back on solid ground, Minion thinks, though he's still a little bewildered by the bit about music.  "You haven't yet?"

Wayne shakes his head, stares down at his hands.  Helplessly rolls a finger through the scattered grains of salt and looks at them, rubs finger and thumb together gently.  "She doesn't know I'm alive.  She's also in a coma.  They're not sure if she's going to…" He swallows.  "I couldn't tell her.  I'm an awful son.  I couldn't tell either of them."

"Can you tell me why not?" Minion says.  He might not like Wayne very much, but it's not in his nature to watch another sentient being sit and suffer without at least tryingto help.

Another shake of the head.  His hair is getting long, Minion notices, frowning at the greying strands that trail over Wayne's shoulder.  Long and ragged.  It wants cutting.

Come to that, Wayne just wants cleaning up in general.  He looks tarnished, almost.  He needs to be cut and polished, his jagged edges sanded down and his whole façade oiled back to its usual shine, or something-Minion has been dying to see Wayne brought low like this for years, but now that it's finally happened, he's starting to wish that he hadn't wanted it quite so badly.  Seeing him like this is just unsettling.

"I'm…honestly? I'm not sure I even know.  All I know is that I was sick of being a hero."

"And you couldn't just retire?"

Wayne squeezes his fingers together.  There's a crunch, and pale dust sifts down onto the table.  "It…it doesn't work like that.  It wouldn't have worked."

Minion sits back in his chair.  Couldn't tell either of them, huh? "Your parents wouldn't have stood for it, you mean."

Wayne's head snaps up and he stares at the fish for a moment.  Then he groans and rubs a hand over his face, his ears turning pink.  "I'm - for heaven's sake, I'm an adult.  I've moved out.  It shouldn't matter so much."

"Oh, don't be silly," Minion scoffs.  "Everyone wants their parents to be proud of them.  Did you miss the part where Miss Ritchi is in such a state because she just told her mother off for insulting Sir? You're about the same age, aren't you?" He makes a huffing sound.  "Age has nothing to do with it, Mr.  Scott."

Wayne just groans again and puts his head back down on the table.

Minion sighs.  "Let me tell you a story.  Will you let me tell you a story?"

A shrug.  "Sure.  Why not."

"Once upon a time, Sir killed a man." Minion sounds very matter-of-fact about it.  "He didn't mean to.  It was an accident.  But it happened, and we were both shocked.  And that night, I couldn't find him.  I woke up in the middle of the night and went looking for him, and I couldn't find him.  And the car was gone.  I checked my phone.  Text from our uncle Guduza.  He's OK, he's with Mitch.

"Now, what you have to understand," Minion continues, "is that Uncle Mitch is the one who took the most responsibility for us when we were growing up.  He was sort of our father for a long, long time.  Guduza comes in a close second.  He was the one who helped Sir the most when he was eight, after-" He cuts off abruptly and looks over at Wayne.  "Do you know what the PHED is? Spelled PHED?"

Wayne looks up and frowns.  There's salt on his forehead.  "N…no.  I don't think so."

"Do you have a silver card?"

"Oh!" Wayne snaps his fingers in sudden recognition.  "Yes, them.  Father took me to see them when I was small.  They were nice."

Minion's mouth makes a thin line.  "They also run a fairly extensive research facility, and we aren't all lucky enough to have adoption papers and an influential father."

Wayne blinks.  "Oh." Minion just looks at him, and suddenly Wayne's eyes go very wide as comprehension dawns.  "Oh!"

"Good, you understand.  So-"

"Is he okay?" Wayne asks, looking horrified.  "I mean.  I guess that explains all the cloak-and-dagger stuff.  The paranoia."

"Oh, yes, he's fine now," Minion assures him, "don't worry.  But he wasn't, for a while.  Guduza helped him a lot.  Mitch did what he could, but it was Guduza put in for a cell change and stayed up nights with us.  And it was Guduza who looked after me while Sir was away.  He didn't know I could think, but he talked to me a lot anyway.  My point is that Mitch and Guduza pretty much raised us.  And if you had just killed somebody, even by accident, who would you want to see the most?"

Wayne shuts his eyes, and Minion pauses before making his point.  "We're all children, Mr.  Scott.  Really, we are.  We're bigger than we used to be, but when bad things happen, we want our parents."

Wayne just lets out a long, slow breath.  Minion looks at him.

He thinks about Sir, and Miss Ritchi, and Miss Ritchi's mother.  He thinks about pigheadedness, and blindness, and grudges.  He thinks about how he wishes Miss Ritchi's mother would be more tolerant.  He thinks about how he hopes everything will play out.  And he thinks about how he has been towards Mr.  Scott, and the parallels there, and he swallows.

"Mr.  Scott.  Would you…would you like some frozen tea? Or I could put the kettle back on.  Or we have coffee, if you'd prefer that."

Wayne glances up at him, and Minion pushes the ice cube tray in his direction with what he hopes is a smile.  Wayne stares.  "Look," he says slowly, "I know…I know Blue doesn't hate me.  But I was pretty sure you did.  You definitely have some good reasons to.  So why…"

Minion sighs and slumps.  He might as well just explain now and get it over with.  "I would love to keep my grudges against you, Mr.  Scott.  You made Sir's life a living hell for all twelve years we were in school, and you're at the root of a lot of his insecurities.  There was a brief period in tenth grade when I was not sure if he was going to make it.  Frankly, I don't like you very much."

Wayne swallows, but doesn't protest or try to defend himself.  He doesn't deny anything either.

"But," Minion continues, "you've apologized for the way you've treated me.  You've as good as apologized for the way you treated him.  You came when I told you he needed you, and that says a lot, and you also tried to help him with Miss Ritchi, back there.  You've done a pretty good job of convincing me that, despite my semi-valid bias against you…you're are not as bad a person as I thought."

He looks down and picks at a minute spot on the table, wishing he had sleeves so that he could fiddle with his cuffs.  What he's just said is not nearly enough, and he knows it, so he reluctantly continues with, "In fact, I think you may actually be a very good person.  Your heart is in the right place, anyway.  You may not be doing much with it, but I think you at least have one."

Wayne looks at him, almost unable to believe what he's hearing.  Other people have told him he's good, But not Minion.  Never Minion.  Even Megamind has treated him with something akin to respect since they graduated high school, but Minion has always treated him with open derision, complete contempt.

So when Minion calls him a good person, when Minion looks up at him again and says, "Which is why I find your assertion that you are an 'awful son' so difficult to agree with," it's all Wayne can do not to put his head back down on the table and cry.

It's a very good thing that the kitchen door opens and Megamind and Roxanne turn up when they do.  Minion and Wayne turn, both relieved and trying not to show it.

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