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Metro Man got a bit reckless when he was frustrated. It was one of his very few faults. This particular fault sometimes led to doors and TV remotes and sink handles needing replacing in the Scott household, but objects were easy enough to replace. People weren’t.
People he had to be careful about. Catch them too fast and they’d break on his arms. Grab them too tight and their bones snapped. He had to slow down and take time to think through every action that involved touching another person. It was exhausting.
Metro Man had spent the last 48 hours aiding flood efforts, which involved handling a lot of people back to back. He started in Metro City and spread out from there, working with the coast guard to figure out where he was needed most.
Metro Man flew back home dead tired. He flew above the highway, entering the outskirts of the city. He’d been going non stop and was looking forward to a nice meal and some sleep before something shot passed his ear. Megamind descended in a flying car to announce his latest scheme. Minion stood just behind him as always.
“Really,” Metro Man shouted before Megamind could get a sentence in edgewise. “There was a flood. Two days ago. Give me a break!”
“Evil doesn’t sleep,” Megamind shot back. He pushed a button for emphasis. The large gun mounted on the back of the vehicle fired. Metro Man dodged, then without thinking rammed into the vehicle. Too hard. A mistake.
They were only 50 feet above the ground, but the impact of his fist dented the metal and sent it hurtling towards the highway. Towards speeding cars. People. He reacted on instinct, flying under to catch it. If he was less exhausted, he would’ve remembered to gradually decelerate to the vehicle’s speed. A bit like attaching an engine to a runaway train car to control it, Metro Man being the engine.
Instead, he stopped under it. An impact, like hitting a volleyball. Metro Man watched, enchanted as it skidded into the field next to the highway, roughing up soil as it rolled. Then the glass top shattered, Minion spilling out and Metro Man saw the streak of blue crunched inside.
Shit. “Megamind?” He flew forward, hesitant to do anything else in fear of making the situation worse. Whiplash like that with a head that big couldn’t be good. There was blood oozing from his head and his forearm was bent wrong, a bit of bone poking out.
Megamind whimpered.
Metro Man’s lips parted. Pain had always fascinated him, the fact that he himself rarely felt it adding to its charm. It was like he was a deaf man watching his friends dance and emote to a favorite song; he saw the reaction, the result, but couldn’t grasp the feeling behind it.
Pain governed so much of people’s lives. It was easy to feel left out, even if pain was a bad thing.
Smoke whisked from the vehicle and Megamind wheezed, eyes lolled and rattling. It was beautiful, how lines carved into his brow as a groan tore through his throat. “Minion?”
If it was anyone else, Metro Man would’ve snapped into action. Pain was bad and part of being a decent person was doing what you could to relieve it, but this... He caused this. Sure, he’d made mistakes before that ended up hurting people, but he’d never caused someone this much pain.
Megamind’s pain was especially interesting. The alien was durable. Thick skinned. During battles with human villains, Metro Man didn’t put much force behind his punches. He held back, most of the time, and kept his touch light so he didn’t kill them. Metro Man could be a bit rougher with Megamind without the same repercussions.
Metro Man peeled back the metal encasing him, not-quiet-accidentally bumping Megamind’s broken arm. He squeaked, eyes struggling to focus. He seemed to gather that he was trapped, because he kicked and twisted, making even more noise in the process. “Hey,” Metro Man said. “Relax, let me help.”
Megamind fought harder. On impulse, Metro Man grabbed the broken bone and squeezed. Megamind choked as he tried and failed to yank away from his steel grip. “Time out!”
Metro Man squeezed harder. Megamind curled into himself, shouting profanities, but Metro Man didn’t stop. Usually a crowd would’ve gathered by now, but today, a football field away from a busy highway, no one was watching. Sure, people had seen the crash. They also saw Metro Man follow it. No need for police or an ambulance; Metro Man was faster. “I told you I wasn’t playing today.” But he let go in favor of watching Megamind scurry towards the gunman’s chair. His leg was bleeding, too. “Here, I’ll—“
“Where’s Minion?” Megamind’s voice grew frantic. “He was on the ship.”
Metro Man hadn’t thought to check on the fish. Figured the robot suit would protect him. “Back there.”
Megamind stumbled into a sprint towards the sparking robot suit, falling every few steps. Metro Man picked him up by the armpits and dropped him in moments next to his friend.
The glass of the bowl was cracked and leaking, but in tack. Minion’s fins were moving, as were the robot limbs, though they were less successful. Minion managed to flip onto his stomach, but the suit wouldn’t stay steady enough for him to get his legs under him. His water was tinted pink; most of his scales had been scraped off. His tiny fish body must’ve beaten against the glass repeatedly during the fall. He was leaning against the glass instead of floating in the center. “Minion!”
The robot suit slumped to the ground. “Sir? Thought you were screaming. Couldn’t get to you.”
Megamind laid his hand on the fish bowl. “You’re bleeding.”
“Just a little. Are you alright, sir? You were screaming bad.”
“I’m fine,” Megamind insisted. “Metro Man’s gonna be a nice superhero and drop us a little closer to lair.” He glared as if daring Metro Man to refuse.
A quick scan revealed, aside from his broken arm and bleeding head, several lodged glass shards and severe bruising all over his body. “You need a hospital.”
“They wouldn’t know what to do with him.” Megamind detached the fish bowl from the robot, then brought it closer to his face, examining Minion with a careful eye. The fish was in far worse shape. Nothing broken, but every inch of his small body seemed to be swelling. “You probably have a concussion.” He whipped his head towards Metro Man, losing his balance in the process. “Lair. Now. You probably already know where it is.”
Metro Man put his hands on his hips. “A please would be nice.” The flood victims had bathed him in praise and thanks when he arrived and it felt amazing. Dealing with Megamind felt like a tedious chore.
Megamind bared his teeth. “Minion’s breathing in his own blood and it’s your fault, Metro Man. If he suffers any permanent damage I will do worse than kill you.”
Metro Man opened his mouth to say he highly doubted Megamind could fulfill that promise, but the words died on his tongue. Megamind was holding the fish bowl protectively with both hands. That had to be hell on his broken arm. The arm Metro Man had twisted into an even worse shape after his emotional flare up.
Guilt seeped his gut. It wasn’t really fair to ask for gratitude from someone he hurt. Metro Man picked Megamind up bridal style, ignoring how the villian flinched away from his touch. “I don’t actually know where your lair is.”
Megamind’s breath hitched as he adjusted the fish bowl in his grip. “Head west.”
“Sir,” Minion whispered as they took off. “I’ll be okay.”
“You better be, Minion.”
Megamind didn’t say much after that, his eyes screwed shut as he gripped his head. It would’ve been cute how he curled into Metro Man’s chest if he wasn’t gasping with each jolt. “You good?”
Megamind opened his eyes after a long second. He glanced around, eyes settling on Minion. “Peachy.”
“Give me an address.”
Megamind’s eyes fluttered. “Mm. Factory district.” He covered his mouth, cheeks puffing as his stomach jerked. Then his cheeks deflated. His breath was considerably less fresh when he spoke again. “Don’t know the address. Why would we? We don’t get mail. PO box.”
“Fuller St,” Minion muttered.
No one complained when Metro Man punched his way into the lair. The room was large. Tall ceiling. Cement floor. Strange inventions littered the space like museum pieces.
“Sink,” Megamind directed. Metro Man found a metal sink along the wall and set them down near it, hands lingering on Megamind’s back as he swayed against gravity. He set the bowl down. “Ice. Need ice.” Ice clinked into the sink as Megamind hobbled along the counter, legs shaking with the effort. “You still with me, Minion?”
Minion’s eyes were wide as he followed Megamind’s every move. “Conscious, sir. Please sit down.”
Metro Man shoved Megamind into a chair in front of the sink, keeping a hand on his shoulder to make sure he stayed seated. “What’re you trying to get?”
“Extra bowl— wait, why’re you still here?”
Metro Man blinked. “You’re hurt.”
“So?”
His jaw dropped. “So you’re in no shape to take care of him by yourself! What if you collapse, huh? Someone’s gonna need to cart you off to the hospital.”
The tension leaked out of Megamind’s shoulders, eyes suddenly soft. Soft like Metro Man was offering him something more than basic human decency.
Then Megamind leaned in and flicked him on the nose. “No hospital. Get a bowl, yellow cabinet. Fill it with water.”
Megamind flinched when a bowl appeared under the faucet half a second later. After a deep breath, Megamind pulled a first aid kit from under the counter, setting a few gauze pads aside. “What state are we in,” Megamind muttered to Minion.
“Michigan.”
He hummed, pulling Minion out of the pink water. His scales had been ruffled and, in some places, scrapped off. He wasn’t bleeding too bad, but Minion didn’t have a lot of blood in him. Megamind pressed the gauze pad to the bleeding wound. “How’re you feeling?”
“Like I was thrown out of a flying ship,” he said. “Dizzy. Tired. I’m puffing up like a puffer fish.”
“Yes, that might take awhile to heal. You were having trouble with the suit, was that mechanical or cognitive?”
“Dunno. Cognitive, I think. Hard to focus.” Minion bit his lip, eyes dashing towards Metro Man.
Metro Man twisted the faucet handle gently, killing the water flow. Then he backed towards the yellow cabinet. He was intruding, he realized, but he couldn’t leave. Megamind hadn’t taken care of his own injuries and Minion was in no state to help him with them.
Megamind grabbed a clean gauze pad. “Ignore him. You did the best you could, Minion. We’re safe, that’s all that matters.”
“But I’m useless like this.”
“You are not!” Because of the chair’s height, Megamind was already eye level with Minion. All he had to do was lean forward to rest his chin on the counter. “I’d die of boredom if it wasn’t for you.”
A smile slipped onto Metro Man’s face. He’d never seen Megamind so authentic before. He radiated exuberance during battles, milking his status as mastermind of evil for all it was worth. It hadn’t occurred to Metro Man to look beneath the surface. To see the man behind the act.
It was hypocritical, really. How often did he wish the citizens of Metro City would look at him and see a man? Being held on a pedestal was exhausting. Even out of costume, he couldn’t go grocery shopping without being asked for pictures and autographs. “Hey, do you go grocery shopping?”
Megamind glanced back as he grabbed a third gauze pad. “Why?”
“Just making conversation. Need to be sure you’re awake.”
Megamind pursed his lips and refocused on the fish. “Minion does, usually. People find him less threatening.”
“Do you steal them?”
“No, we use stolen money to buy them. Can you be quiet, I’m trying to concentrate!”
Metro Man cocked a brow. “It takes concentration to hold gauze to his wound?”
“Right now, yes! Concussions tend to make simple things difficult!”
Oh. “I could—“
Megamind whipped his head around, swaying too much for someone seated. “Don’t you dare touch him.”
Minion glared, eyes trailing back to Megamind as if expecting him to collapse. Hell, maybe he was. Metro Man showed them his palms in good faith. “Okay. I won’t touch him, scout’s honor.”
Megamind went back to work, back muscles tighter than before.
Metro Man sped to the library, read a few medical books, and flashed back. They needed a doctor. Minion needed someone to watch over him and Megamind was in no shape to do that. Megamind needed someone to watch over him and Metro Man wasn’t in any shape to do that. Separating them to take care of Megamind’s injuries wasn’t an option, but neither was leaving them here to rot.
How had this become Metro Man’s responsibility? He’d thought being a superhero meant saving people from floods and fires and evil fiends. He was supposed to toss the bad guy in jail and go home for lunch. The bad guys were supposed to stay in jail and out of his hair, not come back to haunt him.
Except right now, Megamind didn’t look like a bad guy. He looked bloody and bruised and broken. The care in his eyes as he took care of Minion made him look his age: twenty. They were twenty, both of them, though the weight of responsibility made Metro Man feel so much older.
Megamind transferred Minion into his new bowl with gentle hands. He took a little bottle labeled malafish, put a few drops of it into the water, then went to work crushing a baby aspirin. “Would ice help soothe it?”
“Probably.”
Megamind added the aspirin and the ice one cube at a time, then popped a painkiller into his own mouth, using his good hand to slurp water into his mouth from the sink. He stretched to reach the paper towels without standing, but fell short. Metro Man handed him the roll.
Megamind glared. “I don’t need your help.”
“Course not.” He smiled, but it wasn’t his usual bravo. “You need a doctor, little buddy.”
Megamind made himself an ice pack, pressing it to his side where a particularly large bruise was located. His head wound had since stopped bleeding, but the blood still clung to his skin. Metro Man wetted a paper towel and went about cleaning it off.
“I get you’re more durable than a human,” Metro Man continued. Minion was protectively watching his every move. It was cute. “Disinfect those tweezers and I can get the glass out. I get you’re independent because you’ve had to be. The bruises will heal. The concussion will heal. The leg isn"t broken, just badly damaged, and it will heal just fine most likely. But that arm? It’s an open fracture and it’s gonna need surgery.”
Megamind handed him the tweezers and leaned his head on Minion’s bowl. “Who’s fault is that?”
Metro Man sighed. “Here’s the deal: I take you and Minion to jail. They have a doctor there, right? And they’ll let you watch over Minion?” Megamind nodded. His injuries must’ve been bad, because he didn’t offer any other quips. “Alright, good. You’ll heal up in jail, then break out when you’re feeling up to it. I’ll let you decide what to do with Minion’s suit, take it with; leave it here; dehydrate it, but from now on you have to give me a day to recuperate from any natural or out-of-town disasters I decide to deal with.”
Megamind stares at him through lidded eyes. “That’s all you want? One single day? You have the bargaining chip to end all bargaining chips, my most prized invention, and you’re setting the bar that low?”
“Sirrr,” Minion whined.
Metro Man set the tweezers down. “I haven’t slept in 78 hours and I’m not cruel. But give me three days, since you complained about it.”
Megamind grinned. “They don’t do surgeries in prison. Best cut out the middleman and take me directly to the hospital. Minion stays with me until I see the warden.”
“Deal.”