Do you breathe the name of your saviour in your hour of need?

[sympathyforblue]

Who: Megamind (notpredictable ) and Ark (sympathyforblue )
What: After Roxanne escapes from the lair, Megamind gives into his guilt and patches Ark up.
Where: Evil Lair


Between the two of them, Megamind and Miss Ritchi had actually managed to knock Ark out. He had laid splayed out on the floor of the lair for a good ten minutes before he started to come back to consciousness and when he did, he almost wished he hadn't; his broken hand seemed to pulse with pain, enough to make even him - with his heightened pain tolerance inherited from his original - feel sick from the intensity of it. Of course, his entire head, especially his nose, seemed to have been attacked by hammers - or, at least, what he imagined that would be like - making thinking beyond the most basic level impossible.

Even basic thought, though, told him he shouldn't have woken up. He had been unconscious, for the love of science; what the hell had stopped his original and Miss Ritchi finishing the job off? Had they gotten squeamish? It wouldn't surprise him, but he knew neither of them were too squeamish to at least tie him up. Was he tied up? No, a quick - and painful - wriggle of his extremities told him he was free.

It made no sense and given that he was in too much pain to so much as open his eyes at this precise moment - if he wasn't already dead or bound, he supposed there was no immediate danger - he couldn't assess the situation for himself.

Ark did know one thing, though; he despised mysteries.

Comments

[notpredictable]

He winced outwardly at Ark’s cry of pain – it seared through him as if it were his own, and he held his hands up his own defensive gesture, one that was startingly close to Ark’s.
 
“Not…going to hurt you.” Words were still difficult to manage. The sedative had mostly worn off, but the after effects had made him groggy and dry mouthed, and more than a little nauseated. He felt sick to his stomach, though even he had to confess he wasn’t certain if it was the lingering anesthetics in his blood or the metallic scent of blood still in the air.
 
He pressed a balled fist into the bed to support himself, leaning heavily on it.
 
“Trying to help.” That fool clone…he’d tried to hurt Roxanne - that alone should be unforgivable, should be punishable with worse than death, even.
 
Roxanne…
 
His heart twisted dangerously in his chest.
 
But he couldn’t kill Ark. This was his creation, his responsibility.
 
Her oath still rang in his mind and he swallowed bile and desperately tried not to be sick.
 
“Just gonna get the blood off. Stay still.”
 
He dangled the cloth out in front of him, then moved to gently nudge Ark’s good arm with it. “See? No chloroform’r anything. ‘S clean.”

[sympathyforblue.livejournal.com]

Ark held Megamind's gaze for a long moment, trying to assess whether or not he was telling the truth. He was in far too vulnerable a position for anyone with sense to pass it up, but... Megamind didn't have sense - not what Ark considered sense, anyway. Namely, disposing of enemies before they could become an even bigger problem.

But then, by that definition, Ark himself didn't have much sense, either. He had allowed Miss Ritchi to escape - not without a fight, granted, but he could have eliminated her earlier; would have, had she not been so amusing - and as for his original...

There was no doubt in Ark's mind that the first time he stuck a needle in Megamind, it should have been filled with something lethal, not a sedative. He wasn't sure himself why he had kept Megamind alive, save for that ridiculous, juvenile notion that had been in his mind since the moment he first became conscious in the lab. No matter how much he tried to stamp it out, no matter how many times he told himself that Megamind was not a real villain, not worthy of respect, time and again he found himself wishing those first days had gone differently.

Maybe he felt the same way. At the very least, maybe he felt like he couldn't kill Ark, too. Maybe it worked in reverse. Ark didn't know and his head ached too much for him to reason it out like he wanted to. In the end, he gave the slightest nod and lowered his uninjured hand; the cloth was clean, probably not thick enough to smother him after all... Yes, it was safe.

If it wasn't, he'd know about it soon enough.

He had to ask, though. The question would drive him mad if he didn't.

"Why?"

[notpredictable]

He waited – albeit with a good amount of impatience – for Ark to make the decision to let him tend to the injuries. Once he received the approval, he carefully, gently swabbed at the blood, folding the cloth over and dabbing again, repeating this gesture until the cloth was bright red and no longer of any use.
 
Stumbling to his feet, Megamind made his way back over to the sink to rinse the cloth, trying not to look at the blood running down the drain. The metallic scent was strong, though – it was unavoidable and it made his head spin and stomach reel once more, and he had to again fight the bile down in his throat.
 
This was his fault. All of it. Ark’s injuries, the cuts on Roxanne’s wrists, his own stumbling and still almost sedentary movements. Every part of this experience, every element of horror – his fault. He had created Ark, he had turned him into this monstrosity. He had made him into what he was, caused him to be so filled with hatred, hatred Megamind himself had kept buried deep, deep under the surface for years.
 
Why, indeed.
 
“Because…” He struggled to squeeze the excess water from the cloth, then staggered back to the bed to wipe the rest of the blood off. His fingertips lingered on an unbruised portion of Ark’s cheek.
 
“’Cause…you’re me. I’m you. Can’t…kill you without killing me, too.” Metaphorically speaking, anyway.

[sympathyforblue.livejournal.com]

Even when he consented to being cleaned up, Ark hadn't expected gentleness. Maybe it was because his original was still so feeble from the sedative, but somehow he thought it was more than that. Deliberate care? For him, when he'd just hurt the woman Megamind so obviously and hopelessly loved?

Preposterous. His original was merely feeble; as soon as he was recovered, his gentleness would doubtless fade.

But that came back to the question of why Megamind hadn't just finished him off as he lay, unconscious, on the floor - a question, thankfully, that he had seen fit to answer. Even more thankfully, he had answered it in a way that made sense to Ark.

Megamind wouldn't kill him because it would mean looking down at his own face as the life left it and his original simply didn't have it in him to do that. It was a perfectly logical reason and it meant his life was preserved as long as it rested in Megamind's hands; Ark could easily deal with Miss Ritchi himself.

That didn't explain why he felt a sharp twinge of disappointment, though. A sense of... loss, almost. Feelings so close to what he had experienced shortly after waking up for the first time and being rather... vigorous in greeting his original, his creator.

Ark closed his eyes for a moment and did his best to banish those thoughts. A true villain felt nothing; he simply made use of people as and when it suited him.

"I see," he muttered. "You can't bear to see yourself dying." A small, tight smirk. "And so we're stuck together in perpetual stalemate."

Revealing his reluctants? Unwise, perhaps, but his original isn't stupid, despite his moral shortcomings; Ark doesn't doubt that he's worked out from the repeated use of sedatives that he had no more intention to kill Megamind than Megamind has towards him.

craptag

[notpredictable]

Perpetual stalemate.

"It certainly seems that way."

Though that wasn't all of it, was it?

There were other reasons for not killing Ark - and not just because he shared Megamind's face. Deep down, Megamind knows that Ark realizes that.

He lingered a moment longer before he went back to his task, gently swabbing Ark's face to remove the last traces of Miss Ritchi's attack.

Self defense. She would have likely died if she hadn't attacked him. Don't be upset with her.

Still - she'd hurt Ark - and in some small way, she'd hurt Megamind, too. His memory flashed to when Ark had first woken up and he'd been so...enthusiastic, fingers scrambling for Megamind, tracing delicate lines on his face, head tilted as he examined, in detail, the identical intricacies of Megamind's eyes, ears, nose...neck.

His lips, his cheekbones, his jawline.

Megamind's grip tightened on the cloth, and he pulled it from Ark's face. He looked away.

"Your hand's broken. Probably needs to be set."

His words were coming easier now, they were less slurred than before. The sedative was finally being flushed completely from his system, thanks to an increased metabolism and immune system.

nuh-uh :| This is. I feel like Ark isn't being crazy-evil enough.

[sympathyforblue.livejournal.com]

Megamind's reaction to the memories caught Ark's eye and was duly noted, even if Ark didn't know what he'd been thinking about. Green eyes followed every movement minutely and the clone wondered if his original was having second thoughts about not killing him now that the sedative was evidently wearing off.

"I'm amazed she didn't split it in half," Ark grumbled, wincing as he looked down at the broken hand, fingers no longer pointing in quite the right direction. "I suspect that is what she was aiming for."

Yes, it would need to be set, it would be painful and, as much as Ark wished otherwise, he would not be able to manage it on his own. He almost wished the woman had broken something else, but ribs would restrict his movement too much, as would a foot or leg.

Damn it all.

Damn in particular that Megamind was looking away and damn even more that Ark cared.

He was tempted to take a shot, say something about Miss Ritchi, about the hopelessness of loving her; how she clearly didn't care about him in the slightest if she had only tried to rescue him under sufferance and then left him to Ark's mercy.

But it was Ark who was at Megamind's mercy, now, so perhaps she hadn't gotten that so wrong after all.

Still. Ark would never dream of leaving Megamind with someone who might kill him and Miss Ritchi couldn't possibly have known of his reluctance. No, he needed to shade Megamind out of this... obsession, and the sooner the better.

[notpredictable]

“Possibly.” He grunted, pushing himself up and off the bed. Ark’s face was clean – his nose was swollen – Roxanne had probably cracked it, but it didn’t look like it needed to be set back into place, at least. It was still going to hurt for a good couple of days though, and Megamind couldn’t be sure if Ark didn’t have a concussion. He’d taken a few blows to the head.
 
“I can’t tell the severity of it without X-Ray, however. I have a machine that can do that, but you’re going to have to move.” He hesitated. Megamind had gently, carefully brought Ark in here, laid him out on the bed with all the tenderness in the world, but he’s not completely sure that Ark would want to be carried while conscious.
 
Megamind certainly wouldn’t. He had the distinct recollection of sometime during the night that that very thing had happened to him, and while he didn’t remember details, he’s certainly glad he wasn’t completely awake.
 
“Can you…walk?”

[sympathyforblue.livejournal.com]

"Yes." Ark's answer was immediate and firm; there was nothing short of the complete severance of all his extremeties that would persuade him to move under anything other than his own power. It was bad enough that he had come to the conclusion that Megamind must have carried him to the bed while he was unconscious.

He would not appear weak again. If he appeared strong, then he would become strong and his original wouldn't get any ideas about overpowering him. That was how it had to be; there could be no other dynamic between them now. Megamind would never die or come to serious harm under his care, but he couldn't afford to appear lenient.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up using the hand on his good side and then swung his legs over the side of the bed. The world blurred and spun before him, but he closed his eyes and grabbed the bed covers in a tight fist until the dizziness and accompanying nausea had passed.

He would do this, damn it all.

Opening his eyes again, he took a deep breath and then pushed himself to his feet, doing his best not to stagger and not entirely succeeding.

"Fine, I'm fine," he muttered immediately, trying to fend off any offer of help. He wouldn't be patronized by anyone, not even Megamind. "Where..." A brief pause as he waited for the world to right itself again. "Where do we need to go?"

[notpredictable]

He waited while Ark righted himself – he did his best not to hover, though when he saw his double’s eyes close his immediate instinct was to reach for him and attempt to support him, though Zeus knew Megamind himself would hate anyone trying to pamper or baby him in any way.
 
But it’s difficult, when it’s your own creation sitting in front of you in agony, trying not to stumble and fall – and it’s all because of you.
 
His fingertips stayed in midair, just barely brushing Ark’s shoulder before he let his hand fall away, dragging his gaze away from Ark’s.
 
“Course you are,” he muttered under his breath, letting his arms dangle by his sides as he glanced over his shoulder. “In the lab. Downstairs.”

[sympathyforblue.livejournal.com]

Ark's eyes snapped to Megamind's fingers as they brushed his shoulder, following the line of his arm and then up into his eyes, his own expression calculating - wondering what the gesture meant - before settling back into mild suspicion.

A nod at the answer to his question and then Ark fell into step behind Megamind, pointedly staying a couple of paces back. Perhaps it was the concussion, but his head seemed to be buzzing; filled to the brim with contradictory observations and conclusions. Could he trust his orginal? Would it be safer to steel himself and go for the kill? Was it possible for them to work together?

So many questions and not a single answer to be had - incredibly frustrating for a genius used to holding all the cards.

Most frustrating of all was that, for now, he had no real choice but to let Megamind help him.

[notpredictable]

Megamind himself was a flurry of emotions – emotions he was having difficulty identifying, lingering sedative notwithstanding. Why was he doing this? Why was he helping the one man that had harmed Roxanne – that had planned on killing her, if not worse? Why assist him, patch him up as Minion had so often done, nurse him back to help only to go through this all once more when Ark was fully mended?
 
It was a vicious cycle that Megamind had started – one he was not prepared to deal with, or face the consequences of.
 
But he could not let his double suffer. That was solidified in his mind, an irrefutable fact that had wormed its way to the surface and refused to let any other option override. Ark would not suffer because of Megamind.
 
Ark’s presence behind him was almost tangible, and he had to wonder if he would even make it to the laboratory alive to even start the necessary equipment up.
 
As he led the man down towards his lab, he had to reach out for the wall several times to steady himself. The effects of whatever had been in the needle Ark had jabbed into his vein was slowly beginning to fade, and for that one little favor Megamind was infinitely grateful. A clear head would help, he reasoned, and at least provide a little bit of insight as to what he was supposed to do.
 
Or so he hoped. He wasn’t putting a lot of stock in hope these days, it was a fruitless endeavor that Megamind was beginning to lose faith in.
 
He rounded a corner and leaned on the panel, pressing a few buttons before the sleek, metal door slid open to admit them into Megamind’s lab.
 
“This way,” he mumbled, forcing one foot in front of the other towards his X-Ray machine.

/turns Ark into a woobie ffffffff

[sympathyforblue.livejournal.com]

Ark had buried the notion as deep within his mind as he possibly could, but the fact remained that he couldn't bring himself to kill Megamind, not really. Hence the sedatives; all those efforts made to keep him out of the way of danger. Hadn't he said, after all, in the naivety of his first day, that he would not let anyone harm Megamind again?

Well, that had not been kept properly, but there was an essence of it still guiding Ark. If he harmed Megamind - if he sedated him, if he locked him away, if he tied him up - it was only for his own benefit in the long run. Nobody else would reach him, nobody else would hurt him, like the wretched Ritchi woman inevitably would; like Metro Man so often did.

They would never lay a hand on him again.

When Megamind stumbled ahead of him, Ark - without even thinking about it - stepped forward and reached out with his good hand to steady him, a million terrible thoughts all flashing through his mind in less than a moment and only when his double was steady again did the fleeting panic die down, Ark's heart slowing once again.

Looking at his double, how he was struggling on to help Ark after everything... Ark felt guilty. Just a little - well, perhaps more. This was his original, his creator, the one who at first he had been so utterly dedicated to. There was no way for such idolization to not leave a mark on him.

He just wanted to keep Megamind safe while he finished what his original was incapable of doing. Was that truly such a terrible thing?

Ark had no answers and so he was silent as he followed Megamind to the machine.