Cold Fusion: Hallows' Eve, Ch. 14
Coming up next: It's Christmas in San Francisco, and Megamind meets Roxanne's family! Hilarity ensues.
Oh, yes-Megamind and Wayne both have nictitating membranes, it turns out. I was a little hesitant to put that in, at first, because there's no reason to believe that two different species from two different planets would exhibit similar morphology. That being said, I have a hard time ignoring my headcanon, which is that Megamind's species is semi-aquatic while Wayne's species spent almost all of its time airborne…so nictitating membranes would make sense for both species. Hopefully I will be able to mention Megamind's biology a little bit more in Cold Fusion: Twelve Days (hint, hint!).
Chapter 14
The lock on the trapdoor doesn't take him fifteen seconds to bypass. Megamind shoves it up and away, then climbs up the final few stairs and pokes his head up into gale-force wind.
He needs to get away. Just for a little while, just for a few minutes, he needs to be somewhere nobody goes, and he can only think of one place that fits the bill.
The urge to seek solitude is new, and he's not quite sure what to make of it. He had been driving to the Fortress with the radio turned off and all of a sudden, he had felt…overwhelmed. Not tired, not the way he had felt back in August when he had still been getting his bearings. This feels more like resolve or resignation. Whatever it is, it's making his mouth dry out and tension gather in his shoulders and neck.
He climbs out onto the tiny platform and immediately stumbles when the wind tears at his long coat. He staggers to the metal supports for the Spire and uses them to regain his balance while he looks out over the city, the wind making his eyes burn until he gives in and sweeps his seldom-used second eyelids closed. The relief is quick, and he makes a mental note to use them as wind protection in the future-up until now, he's only bothered with them underwater.
I'm such an alien, he thinks, sinking to sit with his back to the pole and his knees to his chest. The air is freezing up here, and Megamind shivers a little, but he doesn't mind the cold as much as humans do. Another reminder of what he is.
The city spreads itself before him, as vast and complex as the lake at its edge. Megamind knows both city and lake by heart-the places you go, the places you don't. The Danger Zones, the rules, the passwords, the hand gestures and things you keep in your pocket. This is his city, this is his home. No matter what happens he belongs here as much as he can belong anywhere. Metro has been his playground for so many years, and he honestly can't imagine living anywhere else.
Except that everything is changing. He's glad it is, he likes the changes, but-it's not the same. He can't play around anymore, he has to be serious. An adult. He can't plot Wayne's demise anymore, he can't attack the city anymore, he can't laugh and caper in front of the cameras and do his mad dance for appreciatively cowering audiences. The bumbling, funny villain has had to step aside, and a more sober, forward-thinking Megamind has stepped up to take his place.
I can't just think about me, now.
For the first time, he recognizes and tests the weight of the responsibility that has slowly settled on his shoulders over the past few months. It's no different from what it had been before Wayne had disappeared, is it? The only thing that's changed is the way people think of him, what they expect from him. Is that enough to change who he is? He doesn't think so, but then, he's started to lose track of where the villain stopped and he began.
The wind shrieks at him, howls past his ears and pulls his coat away before whipping it back against the pole behind him. Megamind lets the wind scream; he has other things to think about. He sees his childhood-such as it had been-in this city, sees it in a thousand little back alleys and a million shady transactions, hears it in the sirens and hum of traffic, and suddenly he's homesick for a six-by-eight room and a hard cot and no need to worry about anyone but himself and Minion.
He thinks of Uncle Mitch and Uncle Guduza, raising him as best they could, keeping him away from the more dangerous inmates until he was big enough to handle himself. He remembers Mitch teaching him how to throw a punch and fall so that he wouldn't hurt himself; Guduza showing him how to fight with a hard stick that Megamind had needed to hide from the guards. He remembers Mitch reading to him at bedtime-Twelfth Night and Oedipus the King because "a growing boy's got to have a bit of culture to balance out the quantum stuff," switching to Oedipus Rex in stammering Latin when Megamind had turned nine to keep the boy's mind sharp. He remembers Guduza's bass accent asking him as he got into bed, "What you learn today, Fanyana?" and listening attentively until Megamind fell asleep. He remembers how, when he had returned from Washington and Uncle Guduza had greeted him as Mzwamandla instead of Fanyana, he had been confused and upset until Minion had explained.
He remembers the one and only time he had ever used a racial slur. Guduza had laid him flat on the ground in the exercise yard, black eyes blazing as he followed the boy down and planted a hand in the middle of his chest to pin him. "Mitch and me raised you better. You gonna call me kaffir? There's lines you do not cross; there's things you don't say, and I ain't never gonna hear you say them things again, ngiyaqonda na?"
"Ng-ngiyezwa," Megamind had stammered. Guduza had nodded and pulled him to his feet and that had been the end of it.
He remembers Dan, the young guard who had taken him to the Y on Monday nights for nearly three months and taught him to swim before he was transferred to another prison. Remembers him crouching, big hands wrapping the towel around Megamind's shoulders, remembers him saying, "There's nothing wrong with you, boy, and don't you let anybody tell you different. You're worth ten of them and they know it…they're just scared you'll end up their boss someday."
He remembers Nikolai, who had thrown him to the floor and covered him with his body when a fight in Mess had turned into a riot. Megamind had learned Russian to thank him properly-Niko had been startled, then appreciative. A year later, he'd been released and Megamind had never seen him again.
Billy the Kid, who had been Uncle Bill to Megamind, had been slow-witted but crafty: a killer for hire who, given enough time, could figure a way into-and out of-even the most secure facilities. He disappeared from the Prison for the Criminally Gifted in mid-November when Megamind had been five years old. Three years later, very early Christmas morning, Megamind had jumped awake to the rustling-cloth sound of someone crouching by his bed only to find himself staring into laughing green eyes above a wiry black beard with more grey in it than Megamind had remembered.
Bill had chuckled silently and put a finger to his lips, gesturing Shhh, then winked and handed Megamind a clumsily-wrapped box with dancing Santas on the paper as he had mouthed the words Happy Christmas. Then he had ducked forward and given the little boy a steel-wool kiss on the cheek that smelled like whiskey and a rub on the head that would have been a friendly tousle if Megamind had had any hair, and when Megamind had looked back up to thank the man, he had been alone.
The note scrawled on the package had read, I got thes for you after I exskap escaped but I herd you went missing. Got a call bout a week ago and herd you was wer back in town. Somday when you make it big time I hop you remembr remember your old uncle. Drop me a line somtime 304-363-2312. Happy Christmas with love from 'Uncle Bill'
Inside had been Megamind's first set of professional-grade lock picks, brand new and shiny from a man who usually spent all his money on booze. Megamind had sat in bed in his pajamas and looked at them, tears welling in his eyes, and then he had written a letter that Bill had never answered.
The memories fly in front of him, names and faces flashing across his mind, everyone who had a hand in his upbringing, every kind hand that touched him, every kind word that had been spoken. Very few had stayed for more than a few years, but Megamind remembers them regardless and he wonders what they would think of him if they saw him today. He also wonders, as always, what his mother and father would think. Would they be proud? He hopes so, but there's no real way to be sure.
He tips his head back and stares at the top of the Spire. The clouds flying past make it seem like it's tilting over, but he knows that's ridiculous; nothing he built would dare tip over.
Then he frowns. Blinks. I built this, he realizes. He turns and presses his hand against the support. Not only had he built the Spire, but he had also reconstructed all the lost floors that Titan had torn away and re-furnished them. He had fixed the damages to the stores, re-paved the roads, and the top of the building just over there, the tall one, he had renovated the interior and rebuilt the smashed parts.
He falls limply back, staring around at the city with new eyes. Simple defense of his home, well, that's one thing, but he could do something with this place. Make it a cleaner place to live. He could make something here.
Destruction, he thinks, destruction is easy, but creation? That's different. That's hard.
He suddenly remembers storming into Hal's apartment and feeling repulsed at what he had found. "All your gifts, all your powers, and you-you squander them for your own personal gain?"
"Yes!"
"No!" He had felt so angry-how dare Hal take the incredible gift he had been given and throw it away like that? People would love him, he could help them, he could make something of himself, he could do everything Megamind had only ever been able to dream about, and he had thrown that away as if it were nothing. It had been a slap in the face.
Maybe it's not that I couldn't do it, Megamind thinks. He rubs a hand over the cold metal he's sitting on, frowning in thought. Maybe it's that I gave up trying.
Then, abruptly, he laughs and rolls to his feet. The wind shrieks with renewed vigor, but Megamind throws his arms out and spins in place, hooks a hand around a support strut and leans out to swing around the strut in a joyful arc before letting go and planting his feet. "All right!" he shouts, though to whom, he isn't sure. "All right, I'll do it! One more go at being good, one last time, you and me." What does he have to lose, anyway? Roxanne, he thinks, but no-he's not going to lose Roxanne unless he tries to lose her; she's not that type.
She really isn't. Something turns over in his head, and he feels it-she's not going to get bored. Part of him still doesn't quite believe it, but now, suddenly, that part is in the minority. It clicks. He grins, and then he's smiling, and then he's laughing.
The world is changing, Megamind is tired, and he thinks he might be getting old, but so what? Life is for living. Megamind is going to live.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
He pulls up outside the Fortress with nervousness clawing at the pit of his stomach despite his inexplicable good mood, and he wonders absently how long it will take him to get over the trepidation he feels about visiting Wayne on his home turf. He's sure part of his worry is because he's dropping in unannounced. But that's what friends do, isn't it? he thinks as he turns off the car and climbs out. Not that I would know. But that's going to change.
The wind off the bay is sharp and smells like snow, and Megamind stares at the grey waves for a few seconds before shivering involuntarily and heading for the shoolhouse. Lost in thought, he's about halfway down the tunnel before he registers that he's hearing music and stops walking. He blinks, tilting his head. Considering who he's visiting, Megamind wouldn't be surprised if it were guitar music, but it isn't; it's viola.
His brow furrows in confusion. Wayne listens to classical viola? He hadn't expected that. Wayne had mentioned music before, but Megamind hadn't thought he'd been talking about classical. He moves quietly to the door at the end of the tunnel, then pushes it open and peers into the memorabilia chamber. That's when Megamind's understanding of the world creaks on its axis because, no, Wayne does not listen to classical viola.
Wayne plays classical viola.
Megamind can feel his eyes getting wider and wider, but he can't move. He knows this song: Stravinsky's Elegy for Solo Viola. He'd had to give a brief presentation on the composer back in high school, and he had decided to focus on the Elegy because it had been the only piece that presented any kind of challenge.
Wayne is floating there and playing it. The implications hit Megamind like a physical blow and he ducks back and presses himself against the wall of the tunnel, feels the door bump almost closed against his foot, feels his heart hammering in his chest.
"It doesn't sound that hard," Metro Dude says, smirking down at the blue alien by the stereo. The music room is arranged amphitheater-style, with raised rows of seats around a central stage.
Megamind just looks at him. He has learned the hard way not to respond when Wayne uses a certain tone. It's difficult, but he bites his tongue.
"Yeah," says the boy next to Wayne. "I mean. It's not even fast."
"Speed and difficulty are not mutually inclusive," Megamind says flatly. "The tonal dissonance makes this piece a challenge to learn because it's so hard to be sure if you're playing the correct notes. It doesn't sound right. Also, you could play with perfect technique and it would still be sub-par because you, Kenneth, and you, Metro Douche, do not have the range of emotion to even begin to comprehend this piece."
Metro Dude lounges in his chair, putting his hands behind his head and crossing his ankles in front of him. "Big words from a little guy," he drawls. "I bet I could do it."
The smirk he's wearing is the one that Megamind has sworn never to direct at anyone else. Superior smirks are fine, knowing smirks are good, evil smirks are even better - lazy smirks are just insulting. Megamind hates that smirk. Hates it enough that, without thinking, he snaps, "Prove it."
He can't stand it; he's already gone this far already and now he's well and truly pissed off, so he drops the quiet school persona for a moment and lets his real personality shine through. He brings out the lounging, sardonic Megamind who so rarely shows himself in public, and he sneers for all he's worth.
"You couldn't play this if your life depended on it," he spits. "You don't have the emotional capacity; you can't feel anything for anyone but yourself. You're as much of a freak as I am, you aren't even human. Overblown, overhyped, overgrown, narcissistic example of genetic deficiency. You won't be able play this for the single solitary reason that you do not have a soul."
Kenneth bursts out laughing, and the rest of the class follows suit. "Oh, he'll learn it," he snickers, punching Metro Dude in the arm. Wayne is sitting very still and looking at Megamind, but Kenneth doesn't notice a thing. "I could learn it, too. Gimme some time, hey, Freak? Like twenty years, huh?"
Goddamn, Wayne had been serious. He had said he could do it, all those years ago, but never in Megamind's wildest dreams had he ever thought the other boy could possibly have been serious.
Megamind frowns. How has he managed to avoid finding out about this? Elegy is not something most first-year violists play, not well, and Wayne has always been more interested in rock and roll and guitars. Facts are facts, though, and the fact is that there's more emotion singing through the Elegy than Megamind has ever seen Wayne express in person.
I should go.
He's intruding. This is like…this is like Wayne coming to the Lair and staring through Megamind's telescope. Megamind cannot be here. It's wrong.
He turns to leave and the door swings fully shut with a click. The music inside cuts off; a split second later the door bangs open and Megamind leaps and spins and backs away, knowing he probably looks as guilty as he feels.
Wayne fills the doorway, staring down at him, instrument in one hand, emotions flashing over his features too quickly for Megamind to keep up - there's indignation, and there's anger, oh yes. There's also a lot more fear than Megamind had expected to see there.
Megamind can't meet his eyes, but he has to say something. "I…stand corrected." He manages a weak smile. "About the Stravinsky."
Wayne blinks, lets out a long, slow breath and shifts his weight a little. "I-thanks. What are you-no, never mind. Thanks."
There's going to be an awkward silence in a minute if Megamind isn't careful. He grabs for a question, blurts it out. "How long have you been playing?"
"Started when I was six." Wayne's voice is flat. Dull. He doesn't elaborate, despite the fact that Megamind is nearly dancing with anxiety.
Open-ended, keep the questions open-ended, Megamind curses himself. "Why the viola? Why not the guitar?"
"I wanted to play the guitar. Mom said no, I had to learn a classical instrument. I had to pick something; she wouldn't let any child of hers grow up without music training. "
"And…you picked the viola?" Megamind can't quite wrap his head around that one.
Wayne bristles. "So what?"
"So," Megamind says slowly, "you made it sound like you only recently picked up the guitar. Why haven't you tried before this?"
Wayne's face slams closed. "You know, I'd really rather not go into that, little buddy."
Megamind sighs and slumps, lounging awkwardly against the wall. "I'm-I don't know what I'm doing, all right?" He scowls at the floor. "I'm trying to make conversation, but you've got to give me something to work with or we're going to end up staring at each other like two kids at a middle school dance."
The ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of Wayne's mouth. "All right, I get it. Just…come inside, okay? I don't wanna talk out here."
Megamind nervously follows him inside, making the mental note not to ask about the guitar again. "So…you play the viola."
"And the cello. Badly."
"Huh." Megamind sits gingerly on the armchair, glancing around, and Wayne flops down onto the couch.
"What's that s'posed to mean?"
"N-nothing, just…" Megamind trails off. "I don't know. Figured you'd be more of a bass man. Or trumpets, more like, or maybe a…a saxophone? A trombone, even. Some kind of…"
Wayne cocks an eyebrow. "Horn?"
Megamind presses his lips together. "Some kind of 'not the viola.'"
"I like the bassoon," Wayne mumbles, "but that's a reed. I guess the trumpet isn't bad, for brass. I never really cared enough to learn much about orchestral music."
A tense silence descends. Megamind twiddles his thumbs, adjusts his gloves.
"Do you know anything about a guy named Sundown?" he finally asks. They're not going to get anywhere talking about music, that's for damn sure. Might as well just change the subject and be done with it-besides, none of this is why he's here.
"I know of him." Wayne plucks absently at one of the strings, sending up a puff of rosin. "Heard of him, more like. I don't think I've ever met him."
Megamind nods, resigned. It had been a long shot anyway. "You'd remember. Listen, I, uh, I have something for you. If you want it."
Wayne shakes his head tiredly. "Dude, you keep bringing me stuff. Food and glass and stuff. What's up with that?"
Megamind gives an awkward shrug and tosses him something. Wayne catches it and turns it over, a puzzled frown briefly replacing the blank stare.
"A watch?"
"Put it on."
Wayne blinks, but clips the watch around his wrist. It's a nice watch, he has to admit, though he doesn't recognize the model and it's sort of a weird gift to be getting from Megamind. "Okay, it looks good, but what…"
"Now twist the face one click to the right."
There's a flash of bluish light and a muttering sound, and Wayne stares down at his hands. They've darkened nearly two shades, and the tips are blunt, the nails bitten short. "What the-"
Megamind holds out a hand mirror, and Wayne looks into it, sees reddish blonde cropped hair parted on the side and slicked down. An even smile with crooked teeth behind it. Hazel-brown eyes.
He looks at Megamind. "What the hell?"
Megamind is smirking. Wayne is confused, and I am a genius-we're back on solid ground! "Minion and I made it. It's the latest model of disguise generator. Waterproof to one hundred and forty feet, shatterproof, and as aerodynamic as Minion could make it, although I told him I didn't think you'd care, Mr. I-Love-Tassels."
Wayne rises and walks to his bedroom to use the full-length mirror there. Megamind trails behind him, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, still talking. "He's got a whole wardrobe, but just for the winter - I'll have Nibs program in some new clothes when the weather changes. See those notches on the dial? Each of those is a separate outfit." He pauses while Wayne plays with the watch, looking at the various options. "We took the idea from Pavel, my human persona."
Wayne turns. He looks completely stunned. "Why?"
"So you can get out more," Megamind shrugs. "I dunno. So you can walk around without worrying. Why not?" He pulls an envelope out of his pocket and waves it at Wayne before tossing it on the dresser by the door. "That's got a driver's license and birth certificate in it. Oh, and a checkbook. You've got a new bank account. I transferred your savings into it-holy shit, by the way, and do you ever plan on actually spending any of that?-your new name is Benjamin Atherton Sterling."
Wayne's eyebrows reach for the ceiling. "Benjamin Atherton Sterling?"
Megamind grins. "It was the most pretentious-sounding name I could come up with. Consider yourself lucky; Minion and Nibs wanted to name you Clark Kent, but I put my foot down."
"Can I be Ben?"
Megamind shrugs. "It's your name, do whatever you want with it. I advise against 'Benji,' though. Sounds like a small, obnoxious dog."
Wayne just stands there for a moment and stares at Megamind, bewildered; then he darts forward and drags the smaller alien into a bone-crushing hug. Megamind stiffens - over Wayne's shoulder, he can see himself in the mirror, looking hilariously surprised.
"Thanks, little buddy." Wayne puts him down again, as roughly as he'd picked him up. "I just-you're just-I can't say how much-"
Megamind stumbles a little when his feet hit the ground, but he straightens quickly and brushes himself off with quick, sharp movements. "It's fine, I know. I'm amazing and wonderful and brilliant, right? Tell me something I don't know." For a moment, he's the villain again, all cool tone and swinging inflection.
Wayne lets out a strained-sounding laugh.
Megamind changes the subject. "So, for Halloween next year, I'm thinking I might do something, some kind of costume thing. I don't know if you're planning on ever coming out of hiding, but…So I was thinking, if you do, and maybe even if you don't because it'd be super-fun and disguises are sort of the whole point of Halloween - I should go as you. And you should go as me. I mean we should wear each other's costumes."
"I dunno, I think my suit might be a little big on you. You'll have to lift a lot of weights to reach my pectoral girth."
Megamind scoffs and flaps a hand at him. "Oh, don't be so ob-tuss. You know what I mean."
Wayne does, and he has to admit that that does sound pretty funny. "Maybe that could be my coming-out-of-hiding debut," he suggests, half-joking as he follows Megamind back towards the trophy room. "I could, I dunno, mount an attack on the city. And you could stop me. For old times' sake."
Megamind groans. "They would hate you so much if you did that."
"They're gonna hate me anyway."
"Not if you play your cards right," Megamind says slowly. "I don't think so. Some will, of course-but if you explain, if you talk to them, they might understand." He shrugs into his coat and sends a careful glance up at the big ex-hero. "I did."
"Yeah, but you're not like them," Wayne mutters, then shakes himself and opens the door while Megamind tugs his gloves on.
Megamind starts towards the door, then stops. "Do you remember," he says slowly, "the time you were taking me to jail, and you asked me if I was okay because you said it was your turn to ask?"
The question catches Wayne by surprise. "That was after you stopped coming to school, right? Yeah, I remember that one. Something was up with Minion, right?"
Megamind nods and looks up at him. "You let me go. Why did you do that?"
Wayne shrugs. "Dunno. It just felt like the right thing to do." It wasn't quite a lie. He suspects Megamind knows that his answer was guarded, but the blue man just nods again.
"But it wasn't the legal thing." Megamind is frowning. "You should have turned me in."
Wayne's eyes narrow, then widen. Oh, no, he thinks. No, no, no. "Tell me you aren't thinking about becoming a hero, little buddy."
Megamind's lip curls. "No!" he says sharply, but it must be a reflex because then his expression changes to cautious. "But…it's looking like I might end up that way regardless."
The bottom drops out of Wayne's stomach. "Don't do it," he says immediately, shaking his head. "Don't. Forget what I said, forget what I told you about bad and good rising up against it-that wasn't-I was scared, and a coward, and-nobody deserves that kind of life, least of all you. It'd kill you, and I can't-you'd hate it, all those people and they're all judging you, constantly, you have no privacy and you can't ever have what you want, you can't ever be anything but what they tell you to be and it's hell."
Megamind takes one look at his face and starts to take his coat off again. "Easy, big guy. It's like you said, though, right? Nobody says it has to be a lifetime gig."
Wayne rakes in a shallow breath and tries to get a grip. "Well, yeah, but there's no way out. You can't quit or they'll tear you to pieces, it's happened before-" He stops abruptly, jaw working, then hurries forward as he tries to explain. "I mean, Scotia Gale got murdered by the press, she's a hermit now, somewhere in the Rockies. I tried to visit her once, after Neuronaut-well. She deserved to know. But she ran me off her property with a shotgun, she's lost her mind," he says quickly, before Megamind can ask. "And there've been others, too. Richter's never sober, never straight, he's stopped even trying to go to rehab, God, he's so fucked up anymore he can't even tell if it's day or night. And Lumen just vanished. Bought a ticket home to Russia and none of us have heard from him since."
Despite his best efforts, he's babbling, but he can't stop even when he hears himself saying, "I just can't stand it, thinking you might end up like one of them, thinking you might end up like Neuronaut and it'll be all my fault, I can't-"
Megamind grabs him by the arm and pulls him over to the armchair, shoves him backwards into it, then plunks himself down cross-legged on the coffee table facing him. His coat is back in a heap on the floor again. "Shut up," he snaps, and Wayne shuts up. "You're this close to being incoherent. What happened to Neuronaut?"
"Oh, he-I forgot you wouldn't know-he, uh, he tried to retire." Wayne looks down, looks up, looks anywhere but at Megamind. "Hung up the goggles and gloves, and he did the best he could, he fought it for a couple years, but he couldn't take it, the criticism, all the hate mail and regret and thinking he should've stuck with it when it was killing him. I read a few of those letters, they were…cruel. He-he couldn't take it, and he-" His mouth turns down at the corners and he looks away, suddenly calm. "He put a gun in his mouth one January. New Years. The landlady found him about a week later."
Megamind's mouth falls open.
"If I'd just-just invited him over, just once. If I'd called him, just once, maybe…"
"Not your fault," Megamind says automatically, staring at Wayne in sudden alarm.
"Dammit, Blue, I know that." Wayne rubs a hand over his face and glares down at his lap. "But I can't stop wondering. I meant it when I said you can't just quit. Job like that, it…it does things to you. I haven't been sleeping, you know?"
"Please tell me I'm not going to come over here one day and find you lying dead on the floor."
Surprised, Wayne looks up. Megamind is sitting very still. He has both hands twisted together, white-knuckled in his lap; sitting like he is, watching Wayne with those wide green eyes in a pale blue face, he looks almost frightened.
So Wayne nods and smiles a little, scratches at his beard. "Don't worry. I promise."
The reassurance has the opposite effect from what he had expected: Megamind gasps and curls away as if he's been punched. "You're lying." His eyes flick back and forth between Wayne's. "You're lying about-about-"
And then, right before Wayne's eyes, Megamind hunches forward, shoulders shaking, breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. Wayne doesn't know what to do. He looks worriedly around as if he's expecting to see some kind of cue, but there's nothing. Finally, he reaches out and lays a cautious hand on Megamind's shoulder. "Uh…listen, little buddy, I'm not…I'm not gonna try to kill myself. Really. I'm not."
"You better not!" Megamind uncurls a little. Half-blind with tears, he follows Wayne's arm up to his shoulder and then wraps both arms around his neck, pulling himself against the ex-hero and clinging there, clenching his fingers in Wayne's tee shirt. "You'd better not."
Wayne freezes. This is something Roxanne would do, not Megamind. Megamind is cold and distant and always has been. He comforts with awkward sarcasm, wields acrid humor like a sword. This is completely unlike him. He never touches Wayne, rarely even comes close enough to touch; it's why Wayne had put him down so quickly earlier. But now all Megamind's stubbornness and pride have come crashing down, and maybe the realization shouldn't come as such a surprise, but it does-I'm not the only one who's scared.
Wayne isn't the only one who doesn't know what to do. He has just shocked his way past all of Megamind's defenses and hit him where it hurts, right in the family; what Megamind is doing right now is real and unaffected. This, Wayne realizes, this is the man behind the mask. And he's just as uncertain about the future as I am.
What had he said before? I may not like you, Wayne Scott, and you may not like me, but I think we understand one another and we certainly can't get rid of each other.
So this is what he had meant when he had said he wouldn't get rid of Wayne even if he could.
Tentatively, Wayne pats him on the back, and Megamind's arms tighten. His sharp shoulder is digging into Wayne's throat, but whatever, Wayne doesn't care. The people who mind don't matter, and the people who matter won't mind, and Megamind genuinely doesn't mind that Wayne abandoned the city and went into hiding. More than that, he wants to help.
Holy shit. That's what the gifts are about. Megamind wants to help but he doesn't know how, so he's doing this, instead. In his own stumbling, fumbling way, he's trying to tell Wayne that he cares.
A tired grin splits his face and he puts his arms around the thin body, hooks his chin down over the bony shoulder and shuts his eyes. For the first time in a long time, Wayne has somebody who cares about him. For the first time ever, somebody cares about Wayne because he knows him and understands.
"Thanks," he mutters, and feels Megamind's fingers twist in his shirt. "Thanks, little buddy. Means a lot."
"Please be okay," Megamind rasps. He really must be scared, to show this side of him to Wayne, of all people. "Please be okay. There, I said it. I want you to be okay."
"I will be," Wayne mumbles. "And I'm not gonna hurt myself. I promise you that."
"Don't make promises you can't keep," Megamind hisses without lifting his head, "but if I can move through it, so can you. It gets better. It takes time and energy and even then sometimes you feel like the world is closing in on you and you can't breathe, but-it gets better. Trust me on this."
"I do trust you." Wayne shakes his head. "Listen, Blue. I'm pretty shook up right now, but I'll be fine. Are you okay?"
Megamind sighs and finally pulls away. "I…I am, yes. You just surprised me. It…ugh. I was ten," he mutters. "Had a pretrial detainee in my cell because the prison was overcrowded, it was just supposed to be for a little while. I got back from my tutoring lesson one day and found him hanging from the window bars. Made me a little bit…jumpy. Hey, are there any success stories?" he asks, switching tacks so suddenly that it makes Wayne blink. "Of other heroes retiring, I mean. Where it's worked out."
Wayne's silence is answer enough.
"Oh, damn. Okay. Well. You'll just have to be the first, then."
Wayne half-smiles. "Dunno. There isn't exactly a great precedent."
"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Megamind tells him, and scoots back onto the coffee table. "None of those other heroes had what you have. They didn't have real friends. You've got me! And Roxanne and Minion! We're used to people hating us, we'll side with you. No worries."
"Roxie isn't used to it," Wayne points out.
"Roxanne is a stubborn bitch when she wants to be," Megamind declares proudly. "She'll stick up for you, too, just you wait and see."
Wayne's brow furrows. "And you really don't care that I just…hung you out to dry back there? The Titan thing?"
Megamind suddenly looks uncomfortable. "Well, I wouldn't say I don't care. But I get why you did it. And I'm not so petty that I'm going to be all, 'Oh, he really needs some company right now? Well, sucks to be him! Ha ha ha!' That's not cool. Besides, all's well that ends well, right? It's really no big deal."
Wayne shakes his head. "Unbelievable."
Megamind makes a tchhh noise in his throat and shakes his head. "Look at us," he says suddenly. "What are we doing?"
"Not sure. I think we've traded places, to some degree."
Megamind scrubs his sleeve across his nose. His wrists are impossibly small. How can someone so tiny be so tough? Wayne wonders. "I think we have," he agrees. "I also think that neither of us really knows what to do with himself."
Wayne shakes his head. "Yeah, that about sums it up. But listen. If you…if you do end up a hero, if they get you? I think you might be pretty good at it."
Megamind scoffs and rolls his eyes.
"I'm serious," Wayne tells him. "You're good. I don't know how it happened, but you-you're one of these ridiculous people who are just-good. I had to work at it. You don't." He sits back in his chair. "You're good because you don't know how else to be."
"Stop," Megamind says sharply, "just stop right there. People are dead because of me. You realize that, right? I do deals with crime syndicates. I steal, I lie, I blackmail, I poisoned my eleventh-grade chemistry teacher. I'm not good."
"Yeah, but he deserved it," Wayne grins at him. "And how many brainbots are out patrolling the streets right now?"
Megamind snorts. "Psh, they don't patrol. Patrolling is conspicuous. I station them on the corners of buildings."
Wayne just smirks. Megamind blinks at him, then muffles a curse, and Wayne laughs.
"Look, all I'm saying is this: if you find yourself in that position, I think you'd be good at it. And I think you're strong enough to throw in the towel when you're done and deal with what happens."
Megamind watches him uncertainly. "Don't mock me," he warns, and Wayne shakes his head.
"I'm not mocking you," he says. "You're stronger than I'll ever be. I mean that."
Megamind's expression blows wide in astonishment, and Wayne looks at his watch before he can say anything. "It's getting late. I ought to let you go."
Megamind frowns. "It's not even two o'clock."
Wayne shrugs. "Social code."
Megamind blinks. "Wha…oh. Dude, if you want me to leave, just tell me." He stands and picks up his coat again, then turns around. He looks nervous. "Are you sure you'll be all right?"
Wayne nods. "Absolutely. But, really, thanks for giving a shit what happens to me. And you take care, okay? Don't be a stranger."
"Likewise." Megamind flashes a smile, white-white teeth in a blue face. "The gaping hole in my ceiling is always open!"
Wayne goes and stands in the open doorway for a long time after Megamind disappears up the tunnel, frowning into nothing.
They've been looking after each other for a long time, far longer than he's ever cared to admit. The truth is…
The truth is, Wayne hates the truth.
He falls back onto his couch and picks up his viola, stares at it.
"You don't have a soul!"
He groans and scrubs the heels of his hands into his eyes until spots of black and white dance behind his eyelids. The truth is, no matter what Megamind says, Wayne is not a good person. He's not bad, certainly, but he abandoned his family and city. That can't possibly be good. How many people died this year because I wasn't around to save them?
Megamind is wrong; he has to be, no matter how badly Wayne wants him to be right.
He likes who he is now more than he likes who he had been, mostly because who he is now has potential and isn't completely fake, but that's not saying much. He had been feeling so good about everything, up until the fire brought his world crashing down around him. He can't stay in denial anymore. Ignoring the news is no longer enough.
Potential. All the potential to do something good with his life, and now all he can think about is how selfish he's being.
He had been a hero, once. Big shot, talk of the town - people had loved him, once. And now he's hiding underground, in a soundproofed room, afraid to go out any more than he has to and trying not to hate himself when he wakes up sweating in the night.
I'm just trying to survive! he snaps at himself, but he already knows how much good that will do. Richter, Scotia Gale, Neuronaut…is Metro Man next on the list of lost heroes?
His hands clench into white-knuckled fists. I will not be another casualty, he tells himself, but he's starting to wonder if he already is.
Well, he hasn't lost his mind yet, he hasn't succumbed to any addictions, and he hasn't killed himself; so far, he's doing pretty well. Hadn't Lumen done the same thing? Just disappeared? Maybe he's still out there somewhere, living peacefully. Maybe he's even happy.
Wayne twists the dial on his watch, goes through all the settings. He does a double take when he finds himself looking down at blue Spandex with a red and yellow logo on the chest, and a quick glance in the mirror shows him a face straight out of a comic book - square jaw, slick black hair - and suddenly the handsome face is laughing harder than Wayne can ever remember doing. Laughing because it's funny.
The laughter subsides, and Wayne switches back to the brown suit and studies himself.
The new persona is built along the same lines as Wayne is, but that's as far as the resemblance goes. His nose is straight, his eyes just a little too far apart, and his new chin is rounded. His mouth is good, even if the teeth are slightly crooked.
It really looks nothing like him. He glances down at the watch. Waterproof, aerodynamic, shatterproof…
This is safe.
Wayne grins and grabs his wallet. He's going out.
Back to Chapter 13
Top of the Page
Forward to Part 2