Chapter Text
The heaviness of sleep was absurdly difficult to push herself out of this time. Roxanne had been managing on two or three hours a night for the past week while cramming for finals, but she seemed to bounce back in the morning with a somewhat acceptable amount of energy. Or, at least, she had thought so.
Had she fallen asleep studying? How long had she been out? How much time had she wasted? Roxanne fought to open her eyes, blinking hard to clear her vision, but the darkness refused to give way.
While her sight struggled to return, her other senses began noticing the details – the awkward angle of her arms, the roughness of rope against her skin, the cool damp of the air – that tied a knot of irritation in the pit of her stomach.
“He had to pick finals week,” she muttered into the stale air of the bag draped over her head. “Of all weeks. This week.”
“Yes, this week!”
Roxanne wanted to groan, or sigh, or maybe yell some profanities. She did not have time for this, not now. That morning the library finally found the misplaced microfilm covering the case she needed to supplement her essay, and she was already going to be hard pressed to finish that while also studying for her Telecommunications Management and Psychology of Crime finals the next day. These kidnappings were most commonly an irritating hassle and occasionally an undignified embarrassment, but this was the first time they were threatening something truly important.
Even before the bag was tugged off, Roxanne felt her features settle into a severe scowl. She was not going to stand for this today.
For a satisfying second when the bag was removed and he glanced her way, she watched the proud smile pulled across Megamind’s face falter before righting itself. “So, it seems that we find ourselves in a familiar situation, Ms. Ritchi.”
She finally decided on sighing. “That being the case, how about you let me go home rather than wasting my whole afternoon? I mean, the end result is going to be the same so I don’t really understand why I need to be here…”
“Oh, there’s no need to act coy and downplay your importance,” he chided, linking his hands behind his back as he looked down at her. “We both know this is the most effective way to gain Metro Man’s attention.”
He was unfortunately correct about that last part – Metro Man seemed to have a particular weakness for saving hostages. They could be anybody: a random middle-aged woman who had been out for a walk, the corrupt manager of some bank downtown, even a group of prisoners on work release (although that instance had involved confusion for everybody involved). Over the years Megamind had taken a variety of hostages, but for whatever baffling reason she was starting to make quite a spot for herself on the short list of repeat offenders, as it were.
Looking back, Roxanne really regretted asking for that interview with Metro Man four years ago when she had been a senior in high school. It had seemed like a good idea – even a great idea, if she was honest with herself – at the time. Wayne had graduated the spring before she entered the same high school, but he was so unavoidably entrenched in the faculty and administration’s memory that it was almost like she had attended with him.
So, since the people at school so adored him, what better legacy could she leave herself than to obtain one of his elusive interviews? He had been attending a university on the other side of the city, and through the connections she had made while working on the school’s newspaper, she managed to get word to him that she would like to do a special feature about him in her last column before graduation. He had rather graciously accepted, and she met him at a park close to campus.
They talked about the high school, and his time in college, and the increasing frequency and scale of his battles with Megamind. For her part, Roxanne had been a little surprised at how easy he was to talk to; he was quite willing to give elaborate responses to even the simplest questions, and she had to do very little prompting to get the answers she was looking for. As arrogant as his comments could sound, there was something about his personality that made it evident that it was not his intention to come across that way. There was enough sincerity underlying the righteousness that she had found herself smiling encouragingly through most of the interview.
And that should have been that. He had been better to talk to than some of the people she interviewed, but she had not been particularly inclined to talk to him again. As far as Roxanne could remember, she had been nothing but professional through the entirety of the time they had spoken, but apparently something about the exchange had caught some most unwanted attention.
So, not two weeks later, she had found herself hanging from a support beam in an abandoned warehouse. It had been damp and cold and dark, and she had been able to hear the muted taps of leaking water echoing in the cavernous space. It had not been long after she had awoken, disorientation slowly giving way to a wave of confused terror, that she had heard the first ripple of laughter.
That was when she had met the individual who was quickly ousting all others for the spot as Metro City’s supervillain. She had been genuinely afraid that time, afraid of him and his threats and the gaping hole in her memory of how she had ended up there. The whole ordeal had been so frantic and unexpected, and before she had been quite able to grasp what was going on, it had been over.
Wayne had apologized profusely as he took her to the waiting police, telling her that he should have anticipated something like this if he met with her. His voice had been half lost in the din of officers trying to get her statement, and paramedics checking her vitals, and reporters hoping to get a story, and it was not until her parents had pushed through the crowd that everything really started to fall into place.
That night, Roxanne had slept on the sofa in the living room with her parents perched together on the love seat. The cold from the warehouse had taken most of the evening to leech from her bones, and she had awoken periodically through the night with a pounding heart to the little creaking sounds of the house. By the time the sun was up and the shadows from the night before dispersed, she had come to the conclusion that she would not go through that again.
After her father had gone in late to work, she sat at the table with her mom and went through the business cards and numbers that had been given to her in the chaos following her rescue. Most had been for psychiatrists or psychologists, although one card had been for some sort of group that apparently met on Tuesday afternoons and served cookies. Roxanne quickly rejected all the options and instead grabbed the phonebook to look up self defense classes.
Of course, in the end, it had done little good. By how things went currently, the breaks between kidnapping had been rather long there at the beginning, which had at least given her time to brace herself. Each time it seemed to get easier, although it seemed twisted for a crime of that nature to be something a person could become accustomed to. It was just that it quickly became obvious that Megamind’s intention was to threaten her; actually going through with those threats seemed almost like an option that was not even on the table.
Still, the fact that he did not truly seem to wish her harm had not kept her from swiftly raising a knee the eighth time he kidnapped her, as he stood too close when the apparatus she was tied to did not restrict her legs. It had been very satisfying to find that self defense training to be used against human men apparently worked on alien ones as well.
So, by now, this sort of thing was hardly surprising anymore, let alone alarming. Roxanne would admit that some of the contraptions Megamind came up with did make her nervous, and a couple times over the past few years she had been admittedly frightened. That had less to do with him, however, and more to do with her concern that, given his track record of failure, an accident might occur that would have some sort of unfortunate outcome.
Besides, given that rescue was always ridiculously dependable, there had not seemed to be much reason to worry. Wayne had, unnecessarily, decided to shoulder the responsibility for her being involved and never failed to show up. Roxanne was starting to think that might just be perpetuating the situation, but she had not worked up the nerve to say as much when she so often caught something akin to regret chasing the omnipresent expression of heroism from his face.
She could not just grin and bear this ridiculous pattern, but at least at this point she felt that she could deal with it. The whole thing was so routine ; if she could just sit things out for a while, Megamind would be back in jail and she would be back home.
Of course, the problem at present was that Roxanne did not have the time to sit things out.
She was convinced that at some point soon she would need to start wearing a bite guard to sleep; she felt the tension in her jaw as she ground her teeth together to avoid outright exploding with her frustration. Over the years, Megamind had made it pretty clear that, if he couldn’t get a good scream or fainting spell out of her, he was rather receptive to any sort of reaction at all. The last thing she wanted to do was give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of her.
So Roxanne counted to twenty, just for good measure, and took a deep breath. Relaxing into her bonds, she lifted her head and tried to school her expression into one of casual irritation – she wasn’t even going to try for nonchalance. Megamind had turned to the monitors and was messing with some of the dials on the control panel, so she had a moment to gather herself.
Naturally, the moment was not very long. “I must say, I’m surprised by the lack of witty retorts tonight, Ms. Ritchi,” he said as he turned around, the brow raised in question completely contradicted by his grin.
“Surprised, huh?” she replied dryly.
“Well, I suppose your silence is understandable,” he conceded, waving a hand airily. “It was merely a matter of time before you were overwhelmed with despair at the inescapable nature of my genius.”
“Hmm…” She pursed her lips and turned her gaze to the ceiling. “I guess that’s one way to explain it. Certainly not the most logical, but that’s not always one of your strong points, is it?”
She didn’t need to be looking at him to imagine the way his shoulders would stiffen at that. “Oh, how quaint that you actually believe yourself capable of understanding the complexities of my logic! I guess you can just hope Metro Man is as clever and will figure out the clues in time to save you.”
Roxanne smiled to herself as he marched over to the table on the far side of the room and began fiddling with something. The pace this evening was actually respectable, all things considered, so perhaps it could be wrapped up in a timely manner.
When he turned back toward her, she could not help but raise a brow at what he held in his hand. “A necklace?” she asked, not even bothering to cover the incredulity in her voice.
He swung it around his finger, shaking his head. “Oh, it will go around your neck, but that’s where the similarities end.” Finally close enough to her, he looped the necklace around the back of her head and then latched it in the front. “With every minute that Metro Man fails to rescue you, the length of the chain will gradually shorten. And when it becomes too short, it will–”
“You didn’t get the idea from those necklaces called chokers, did you?”
“What? No! I had absolutely no idea that there was a necklace called that! What a fascinating coincidence,” he replied, his gaze wandering. “How preposterous, to suggest that I’d have such familiarity with women’s jewelry…”
Roxanne ignored him and glanced down at the metal draped over her chest. “I have to say, this kind of lacks your usual… flair.”
That seemed to get him back on track. “That is because you rudely interrupted me and therefore did not hear the entirety of my diabolical plan! When the necklace reaches its final length, it will not only trigger an internal explosion, but also detonate a series of bombs planted around City Hall, where, as you probably do not know, they are hosting a convention of foreign corporations. Metro Man will be forced to choose between saving you or saving those at City Hall, unless he finally leaves Metrocity.”
“Ah, I see.” This all seemed a lot more straightforward than she had anticipated, and by now it was becoming increasingly difficult to beat back the flicker of hope that this might be done quickly. After all, she was pretty sure there had been a remarkably similar situation at some point recently, and it seemed that these ‘two target’ schemes did not pose much of a problem. “And how long before the detonation?”
The answer was given with a sneer. “Well, knowing that Metro Man’s intellect is nowhere near as impressive as my own, I graciously granted him two hours to put all the pieces together before initiating the countdown.”
He continued speaking, but Roxanne had tuned him out. Megamind notoriously over-estimated these things, but even considering the fact that Metro Man usually was there in less than half the time Megamind allotted, that still meant she could be there for an hour more. Even now she did not know how much of her time had been wasted.
All the fight went out of her. Why was she the one who had to consistently deal with this stuff? Not that she would really wish it upon anybody else, but weren’t there other individuals who Wayne had associated with who might have worked, at least this once? Slumping in the chair, Roxanne wished her arms were free so that she could rub her eyes.
“Can you just let me go?”
Whatever soliloquy Megamind was indulging himself in instantly stopped; perhaps she had not kept the disappointment and stress out of her voice as well as she would have liked. His arms, in the middle of some flamboyant gesture, slowly returned to his sides. “Is this some sort of new ploy?” he eventually asked, apparently thrown off by her change of mood. His expression shifted into suspicion as he looked her over, and it seemed like he would have continued if Minion had not entered the room.
“I found the schedule, sir!” he said as he waved her planner in the air.
Roxanne glanced at him and felt her irritation spike again. “What are you doing with that? Were— were you going through my bag?!”
Minion had the decency to look bashful as Megamind took the planner from him. “Well,” he began in an apologetic tone, “it just seemed like it would be beneficial to plan the kidnappings for times that would be convenient for everybody–”
“They are never convenient!” she fumed.
“What kind of code is this?” She glanced at Megamind, who was frowning at the planner. “ Psy-cri final ?”
“My Psychology of Crime final. It’s tomorrow,” she sighed, continuing to frown as he rummaged through the pages.
“That doesn’t sound like a class you’d need for broadcasting.” He squinted at her before returning to the planner.
“That’s because it’s for my criminology major.”
“I thought you were studying broadcast journalism,” Minion put in, fins fluttering in confusion. “I mean, I remember having to get you a few times from your internship at that station…”
Roxanne looked back and forth between the two of them. She tried to decide her thoughts on the fact that the individuals who kidnapped her and put her in what appeared to be dangerous situations could also hold a conversation with her over her course of study.
“I’m doing a double major,” she said eventually, turning her head to address Minion. Somehow, continuing the conversation didn’t seem quite as wrong if it was directed toward him. Circumstances aside, he had only ever been polite and careful with her, and in response she found it difficult to quell the impulse to be at least somewhat cordial in return.
There was a snort to the side. “Well, isn’t somebody the overachiever.”
Roxanne glared. “No, somebody is just being practical.”
“But, isn’t that an awful lot of work, Miss Ritchi?” Minion asked. “And you’ve seemed so passionate about journalism! Those articles you’ve written for your university have been really well done.”
She allowed him a small smile at the compliment. “There just aren’t a lot of positions for what I’d like to do. I want to give myself some options in case that doesn’t work out.”
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” Megamind sighed dramatically, leaning back against one of the consoles and folding his arms. “I’ve spent all these years listening to you–”
“You could have stopped at any time.”
“—harp about all sorts of virtues and morals,” he continued, raising his voice above hers, “and then you turn out to be one of those people who settle .”
Roxanne’s mouth snapped shut. The comment resounded in her head, ringing with a truth that she was reluctant to acknowledge. It was hard to avoid, though, when the realization had hummed at the edge of her own thoughts for years now. Perhaps because of that she found, with no small amount of surprise, that it stung.
Both her parents had been taken aback when she decided to double major after talking about journalism, and especially broadcast journalism, for so long. One of the things she had become good at, however, was research, and all the research was quick to point out the odds of accomplishing the goals she had. Double majoring had therefore been a really logical decision.
And her criminology classes weren’t that bad; she’d become a bit of a case study in a handful of them over the years, and she figured that it didn’t hurt for her to have more information about a system she had become unwillingly involved in. They really had been informative courses, and she had even enjoyed a number of them.
Of course, because of the subject matter, everything had been rather structured, with very little room for deviation. There were so many rules, laws ; in an environment like that, ‘creative thinking’ and ‘spontaneity’ and ‘hunches’ almost seemed to be considered dirty words. It was easy to excel in those courses when everything was so cut and dry, even when there were times where the dryness could have bored her to tears.
One of those people who settle. Nobody had put it that way before. So far everybody had been supportive of her choice and had acknowledged that it was good to diversify her options. True, the comments had all been pretty sterile, but then again they were responses to a pragmatic choice. What other responses could she have expected? Most people followed the societal norms of keeping their emotional reactions to themselves.
Which did not make it terribly surprising that Megamind would be the one to kick down the tenuous wall of logic she had built around her decision.
Roxanne did not realize how long she had been silent until he moved forward. “Did I manage to hit one of those exceedingly elusive nerves of yours?” he wondered, his tone of indifference so carefully constructed that it immediately betrayed what might have been excitement or hope. Perhaps both.
“I was actually thinking that I should get dropped off at the store after this. I need to pick up more fruit cups and Poptarts.” The last thing she was going to confess to was that something he said had managed to get under her skin.
And it certainly had. Even now, the words echoed faintly in the background of her thoughts. Did it really make her come across as the sort of person who would give up what she loved just for convenience, for ease?
Was that honestly what she was doing?
Roxanne half-noticed Megamind turn back to the computers and press a series of keys; it was only when the necklace-bomb shortened by one link that she finally pushed her thoughts fully to the present. The comment balanced on her tongue died when he tossed the planner back to Minion and made his way toward a door on the far side of the room.
“Where are you going, sir?” Minion asked, the confusion evident in his voice. He glanced at the displays around the room and frowned. “Did you just initiate the–”
“There’s no need to actually say it, Minion!” he quickly cut in, throwing him a warning glance. “Although yes, I did.”
“But, it’s over an hour and a half early!” He looked at Roxanne, his expression concerned. “You haven’t given Metro Man the allotted amount of time.”
Megamind gestured dismissively. “I sent off the last-resort clue at the same time. Nothing about how to execute the plan has changed; I’m merely moving up the timeline so we can get to my glorious battle faster.” The smirk he turned upon Roxanne had a measure of its usual smugness replaced by something decidedly sardonic. “Any other method of tormenting Ms. Ritchi tonight won’t be nearly as satisfying as planting that little seed of doubt in her fragile mind.”
There was a resounding crash, and the air was filled with dust and debris as one of the walls tumbled inward. “I think the only seed that has been planted is that of your defeat, Megamind!”
Instantly, the room was filled with a flurry of activity, but Roxanne had seen these sorts of things enough that it was not long before her attention turned elsewhere. The direction of the battle taking place before her was predictable, and less than fifteen minutes later she found herself being dropped off at her house. Distracted though she was, she still managed to thank Wayne, who gave her a quick smile before heading back.
She dug her keys out of her bag to open the door and shuffled inside, kicking off her shoes in the entryway. The apartment was quiet, her roommates evidently still on campus. When she rounded the corner to the main room, she stared at the clock on the bookshelf. It was only a quarter before five.
Her sigh as she sunk into the couch was both weary and relieved. For a moment Roxanne sat there, head resting back against the cushions as she stared at the patterns thrown onto the ceiling from the crystal decoration hanging in the kitchen window. There was plenty of time. Even if Megamind had played out his plan the way he had initially intended, she would have gotten home at a reasonable hour. She would still be able to get everything done for tomorrow that she had originally intended.
Yet the Psychology of Crime textbook remained unopened next to her, even after she had finished everything else for school and taken a long shower. With the way her thoughts had been going, she was starting to wonder if she would be able to find the motivation to change that.