THREE YEARS. Three years. There will not be a fourth chapter, I hope, since Twelve Days is finally wrapping up and we'll be moving on from the holiday-themed fic.

But here's the third annual update of my 'Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch' fic. It's pretty rough, but maybe someday I'll come back and edit it.

Happy Winter Celebrations, people.

(And if any of you have advice on how to write about people recovering from severe burns, please message me. I'd like to do this correctly, and while Lady Scott isn't going to feature too heavily in future updates, she does come into play enough that I don't feel comfortable with just referring to a physical therapist and moving on. Help?)

I LOVE YOU FOLKS. BIG HUG. MOUNTAINS AND PILES OF HUGS.

Edit: So I'm kinda dumb and the first version of this had like three lines at the bottom that weren't supposed to be there. OOPS. I was in a hurry to get out the door (goin' to Granny's house, aw yeah), and didn't scroll down quite as far as I should have. My bad. ^^;

The First Noel (but not the last)

The morning doesn't get any less surreal, as far as Minion is concerned. He's not sure if Wayne feels awkward—Wayne isn't acting awkward; in fact, he's mostly acting exasperated at Minion's constant and obvious worrying—but Minion certainly feels in over his head. Proverbially speaking, at least. He is aquatic, after all.

Lady Scott doesn't seem at all surprised to see Minion still hanging around. She, like her son, behaves as if his presence in the penthouse is totally normal and natural. This does not exactly put Minion at his ease.

Like he'd tried to explain to Wayne, everything he and Megamind have heard about the major winter holidays—as well as everything they'd been subliminally bombarded with through media and conversation—is that they are time for family to get together and enjoy each other's company. The image of the ideal American Christmas (two parents, four grandparents, two children and a dog, a tree piled under with presents, roaring fire on the hearth, turkey on the table, etc. etc. and everybody smiling on top of that) is one that both of them have, unfortunately, internalized to the point that Minion is certain that somehow, despite Wayne's genuine desire that Minion stick around and Sally's open request for the same, somehow his presence is inherently intrusive.

As the bipeds sit down to breakfast, Sally in her dressing gown and Wayne in the beat-up shirt and lounge pants he'd slept in, Minion starts to wonder if maybe he's got the wrong idea.

"So," Sally says, after everyone's had a few bites. "Minion. I know we went over the basics last night, but I still need to ask—you sounded as if you and, ah…Blue were surprised at the death ray's apparent success."

Minion swallows. "Yes, Ma'am. Yes, that was…unexpected."

"'Death ray' was an intentional misnomer, then?" she says. It's pretty obvious what she's getting at, here.

Minion nods. He sees no point in denying any of this, anymore, and while it's possible that Megamind would disagree with him, Minion is absolutely sure that there's no harm in putting their cards on the table. "We did project several possible outcomes before initiating functionality, but your son's death wasn't even a remote possibility. It would take significantly more power to actually injure Met—Wayne fatally." He takes a deep breath. "Simply speaking, Ma'am, none of our death rays have the capacity. 'Surprised' doesn't begin to cover it."

She watches him carefully, studying his face. She looks confused, but it's a different kind of confusion than Minion is used to seeing from Megamind or Roxanne—Sally's is more calculating. "Then you were only pretending to try and kill him? On multiple occasions over the past decade?" Minion gives an awkward sort of nod. Incredibly, Sally Scott only sounds mildly curious when she asks, "Why?"

Minion is quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond to this. Eventually he says, "I don't know the full story. Sir hated Mr. Scott when they were children. But something happened when they were teenagers—Sir stopped being so vocal about his anger about midway through high school, and I know there was something that had to have happened shortly after he dropped out. But I wasn't…there for that."

"I can fill that in," Wayne says quietly. "There was an explosion near the docks, I guess he was testing something, and I was hauling him away like usual but…" He trails off, shaking his head. "I dunno. Something was wrong. I mean, really wrong. Little guy was doing a decent job of acting normal—you know, sneering, sarcastic, all that—but his heart rate was off the charts, he was frantic." He shrugs, and now he looks awkward. He remembers all this so clearly because he'd been seriously worried. The only other time he'd seen Megamind that panicked was in grade school, when he'd been hit in the stomach playing dodgeball and got the wind knocked out of him. Wayne still isn't sure what was up with that.

He clears his throat and finishes, "So, y'know, I just…asked him what was up, and he said you were missing. So I let him go."

Minion stares, taken aback. "Just like that?"

Wayne shrugs again. "Well, I mean, I owed him one. He'd helped me, a couple years back, and I just figured it was my turn. He was going out of his head."

At this point, Minion is totally baffled. "You owed him?"

Wayne glances at his mother, uncomfortable. "Yeah, I mean, he tracked down my birth information for me, my pod and all that stuff. He didn't have to. You remember."

No, Minion does not remember. Megamind hadn't told him about this. He shakes his head. "No, I…I wasn't involved for any of that."

Wayne blinks, cocks his head. "Huh. Yeah, I guess…you weren't there when I went over. I figured he would've told you."

Megamind hadn't been big into sharing much of anything in those days, but Minion doesn't mention that. Instead, he nods slowly. "Well," he says, "yes, that would explain some of it." He turns back to Sally. "I'm sorry," he apologizes. "This is difficult. I know what you're asking, but…Sir's relationship with your son is complicated. It always has been."

Sally nods. "I realize that, but I would appreciate your viewpoint. Wayne always said that Blue didn't seem to be trying terribly hard to hurt him."

Minion bites his lip. He does owe Sally an explanation of some sort. She's Wayne's mother, and besides, it would be good to have everyone on the same page. So he sighs and decides to give it his best shot. "All right. I'll try. The early dynamic was based on a deep…dislike for your son. That manifested mostly as Sir acting out in school. Then things…changed. It wasn't just Wayne anymore, it was everybody. Teachers and administrators, too, and after a while, I think Sir gave up even trying to fit in."

"You think," Sally interrupts, frowning.

Minion shrugs heavily. "I don't know for sure! He stopped telling me things. Lord knows, I tried, but…he was always somewhere else. It seemed to me he just started focusing on keeping everyone out."

Wayne nods. "That sounds right, from what I remember. He gave me a hell of a time running damage control, and those are just the instances I know about."

Minion blinks. "Wait," he says. "There are instances you don't know about?"

"It wasn't always explosions and screaming," Wayne says. "A big part of the problem was how he started handling conflict. He'd find things out about people," in response to Minion's urgently questioning expression, "and use it against them if they so much as looked at him wrong. Wasn't much I could do about that stuff, since nobody wanted to tell me what he'd found out, either. After a while, we just started shunning him." Minion's eyes are enormous, and Wayne frowns. "You didn't know?"

"No!" Minion exclaims, fanning his fins in agitation. "No, I didn't know any of this! He wouldn't talk to me. I wanted to be there for him, I wanted to, but after he stopped taking me to school with him there wasn't anything I could do—all I knew was what he told me but he wouldn't tell me anything!"

"Jeez," Wayne says, startled. "I always figured you two were joined at the hip."

Minion blinks unhappily, but pulls himself together. "A-anyway, getting back on track, I suppose you can already guess that he's painfully aware of how different we both are from the rest of you, and…I know he's felt locked into villainy since we were kids, so it wasn't hard for him to accept that path.

"But I don't know that he ever wanted you dead. He's good at villainy and he enjoyed the spotlight after a while. And." Minion looks down at his hands. "If he was a supervillain, we were safe. Nobody messed with us. And he knew Metro Man wouldn't ever really hurt him or try to take him out for good—it almost seemed like the two of you had kind of an unspoken arrangement. So yes, there was enmity, but hatred? Not for years. After he got his head on straight again, it turned into a sort of game for him."

Wayne hesitates. "I know he doesn't hate me anymore, but…" He stops at the meaningful stare Minion sends him.

"It's not just that he doesn't hate you. I don't think even he knows if he likes you or not—but he does care about you. Probably more than you have any idea."

Wayne glances at his mother. "I said last night how I was a wreck after the fire. Roxie was there for me, after, but so was Blue."

She blinks. "Really?"

"He hugged me."

Minion swivels in his bowl to look at him, eyebrows up. "Did he really?"

Wayne nods but doesn't explain circumstances. Which, Minion supposes, is probably a good thing, because anything that would cause Megamind to actually hug the ex-hero voluntarily would probably be…not something Wayne would want to discuss in front of his mother.

"Is that unusual?" Sally asks.

"You should have seen how long it took him to start reaching out to Miss Ritchi," Minion says seriously. Then he sighs a little and says, "Listen, Ma'am, all I'm saying is that nobody in the Lair wants to hurt anyone in your family."

"Megamind is like…" Wayne blinks. "Kind of like a brother, I guess? He is family."

"And you don't mind that he started dating Roxanne?" Sally asks. "You two were together for so long."

Minion is expecting Wayne to deflect, but instead, the ex-hero takes a deep breath. "Roxie and I weren't…really dating," he says. "We were friends, more than anything else." His mother's brow furrows, but she doesn't say anything. Wayne shrugs, looking far too nonchalant as he explains, "Well, I mean, she wasn't really looking for a romantic relationship, and I'm gay, so. It worked out. People stopped asking us prying questions, and…yeah. So." He fidgets.

There's a long pause. Lady Scott looks at her son. "Yes," she says. "I see. That…would explain quite a bit." Then she looks at Minion. "And…are you…?"

Minion's mouth falls open. "?" he says. Actual vocalization doesn't look like an option for him right now. He's totally stunned, honestly; this is the first time he's ever been asked if he's somebody's romantic partner—this is the first evidence he's had that anyone else even sees him as a viable option.

Wayne snorts. "Mom, no. Minion's my buddy. My pal. Possibly my bridge partner, if we can ever find anyone to play against." He glances over at Minion, then pauses. The little ichthyoid's bioluminescent nodes are flaring and sparking something fierce, and Wayne isn't sure what that means.

Sally's gaze snaps back to Minion. "You play duplicate bridge?" She sounds far more surprised about that than the possibility that he could be dating her son.

Minion, who is still reeling, manages to drag his voice back into operation. The light show gradually settles—not that he notices. "Um…Mr. Scott is teaching me to play. Without a team, it's hard to practice."

"Teach Blue and Roxanne," Sally suggests. "If anyone could learn in a hurry, it's those two. Roxie's a smart cookie."

Wayne shrugs. "True, but she's not really into cards."

His mother starts to sit back in her chair, then winces and stays where she is. "Blue, then," she says. "All we really need is one more player, and then we'll have two teams. You're already teaching Minion, so I'll help Blue until he gets adjusted, and then we'll switch—Minion and Blue against the two of us."

Minion stares at her. What is going on? he wonders. What's she thinking? At this point, he's pretty much entirely out of his depth. This is not how he'd ever expected Lady Scott to respond to any of this. "Wait, please, Ma'am," he says. "You…twenty-four hours ago, you thought we'd killed your son, and now you want us to play cards with you?"

Nobody, and Minion is quite sure that nobody can bounce back this quickly. No way. It was disconcerting before, but he'd figured maybe she was just good at keeping a lid on things. But he's never been asked to play cards with an almost-stranger before, and Lady Scott has more reason than most to want to at least avoid him and Megamind.

She looks at him. "I told you before—Wayne has said for years that Megamind wasn't truly trying to hurt him."

"But," says Minion, trying desperately to understand, "you thought we'd killed him."

There's a moment of hesitation, and then Sally looks Minion dead in the eye and holds his gaze. "Don't mistake my ease for comfort." Otherwise, she hasn't moved. Her expression is still mild, her demeanor still calm—but now there's an undercurrent to her gentle tone that Minion recognizes.

Across the table from Minion, Wayne is sitting very still. His mother is still watching Minion carefully. "You are important to Wayne," she says. "You and Megamind. And there's clearly more going on between you three than I ever realized. Will it be easy to move past this?" she asks, and answers her own question with a simple shrug. Her gaze finally slides away. "No. But I want to try."

She's wrapped herself in careful layers of silk and soft words—she makes the people around her feel comfortable, sets them at their ease. She listens to them. And she means it, she really does, which is probably why it's taken Minion this long to realize that, under all the silk and polish, Lady Sally Scott is made of solid steel.

And she's letting him see that, which is not something Minion would have expected. She's reaching out, she's making the first move towards an eventual Pax. He still doesn't understand why, but Sally is giving him and Megamind more of a chance than they've ever been given in the past.

His throat tightens. It's beyond anything he'd hoped for, considering the way things with Roxanne's mother have been going. "That's very…big of you, Ma'am. Thank you."

She nods. "Wayne," she says. "My Vicodin is in my bedroom, on the nightstand. Could you?"

"Sure." He lifts out of his chair and flits away.

Lady Scott slides a small piece of paper towards Minion. The writing is thin, the letters wobbly and broken, written in a slow, painful hand by someone who is still recovering their fine motor skills. She must have written it down before coming out to breakfast, probably been keeping it in the pocket of her dressing gown. Nod or shake your head, it says. Has he mentioned coming back into the open at all?

For a moment, Minion is confused, but then he remembers that the person they're talking about has super-hearing, so of course writing would be the way to communicate without tipping Wayne off.

Minion shakes his head.

Sally's lips thin, tugging at the scars on her face, but she gives a tiny nod. A second slip of paper joins the first. Is he going to be okay?

But there's just no way Minion can answer that with a yes or no. He stares at her, trying to figure out how to explain that he has no idea, probably yes, he hopes so, just give it time and possibly also therapy. Forty years from now, yes, he imagines Wayne will be fine. Five years from now…it's impossible to tell.

After a moment, Sally glances down and thumbs through something in her lap. Finally she slides a third and final page over to Minion. This one is longer than the others.

Bob and I thought we'd raised him to be able to come to us if he needed to, but it looks like we failed. I'm worried about him. There's so much that he isn't saying. I wish I could trust him to tell me what's wrong. I can't believe I didn't know any of this.

I hate to put you in the middle, but he seems to talk to you. If you think he's getting worse, will you tell me?

Minion nods as hard as he can. He knows exactly where Lady Scott is coming from and he doesn't mind being in the middle for something like this—it's the kind of thing he'd desperately wanted during the years when Megamind went quiet.

"Found it!" Wayne announces, emerging from the bedroom and heading over to the sink. Minion takes advantage of his distraction to slide the papers over to Lady Scott, who slips them back out of sight.

There's no way he can explain to Lady Scott right now, but she's not the only one who's terribly worried for the people she cares about. Megamind has been very careful not to give anything away, but Minion has still caught him staring at nothing a few times over the past month. On one of those occasions, he wasn't even doing anything with his hands, which was deeply concerning because even when Megamind is apparently lost in thought or totally focused, he's still fiddling with something to keep himself grounded.

When he isn't doing anything, it means his attention is scattered and he isn't focusing at all. He's either trying to think about too many things at once, or he's trying not to think at all. And Megamind hates not thinking, he hates not moving, he hates not being present in the moment. He's said for years that he didn't ever want to lose himself like that again, and that's why he bounces everywhere.

Anyone who knows the former villain well would be able to tell that Megamind is scared. Of course, this means Minion is scared, too. Roxanne is nervous. And Wayne, apparently, is not half as okay as he seems most of the time…

Minion bites his lip. He's taken care of Megamind all their lives, and he really doesn't mind keeping after one more now that Roxanne is in the picture. Having her in the Lair full-time had taken some getting used to, but that was mostly them trying to figure out what each of them would do, chore-wise. After Roxanne had finally told Minion flat-out that she doesn't like being waited on (apparently, Minion doing Roxanne's laundry had made her feel like she should do something for Minion in return, which would have been fine except that Minion wouldn't let Roxanne do anything for him—and that made Roxanne feel awkward and intrusive), everything had been much easier. She's pretty self-sufficient, too, so there isn't a huge difference.

But Wayne…Wayne is different; Minion doesn't even like Wayne. Well, no, that's not true. Minion does like Wayne, but he has no obligation to him at all, no formal or informal ties beyond…

Beyond what? Friendship? Are they friends? Minion's never had a friend before. Megamind and Roxanne don't really count; they're family.

"Wayne," he says, frowning into space, so completely lost in thought that he doesn't even realize that Wayne's head just snapped around and the man is staring at him like he's lost his marbles, "are we friends?"

Wayne blinks, shocked. Do you even need to ask? he doesn't say, because Minion wouldn't have asked if he hadn't needed to, and that's why he also bites down on the words, What else would we be? What he says, very carefully, is, "Uh…yeah. I kinda assumed we were."

He doesn't say anything about the use of his first name. That might freak Minion out; it seemed unintentional.

Minion looks at him, obviously bewildered. He's not just asking out of curiosity, Wayne can tell. "Why?"

Well, that's a hell of a question. "Because…I dunno. We hang out a lot? And it's fun?" There's more to it than that, of course, but Wayne isn't sure he can explain why. He's never thought about why people are friends with each other. They just are. Friends are people who enjoy hanging out with each other and have stuff in common. Similar interests, like their shared fondness for games and cooking. And music, surprisingly enough. Minion can actually sing, and Wayne has sort of been toying with the vague idea that he might, possibly, maybe want to ask Minion if he'd like to try singing while Wayne plays along on the guitar.

A thought occurs to him, suddenly, and it makes his stomach flop. "Hey, if Blue and I ever had a big falling out again, would you…would you still want to talk to me?" he asks. It's not an inconceivable notion. Megamind's tentative peace with him is very recent, and if it turns out Minion is only putting up with him for Megamind's sake—trying to get to know him for Megamind's sake—that would suck. A lot. That would really hurt.

Minion flicks his fins straight out to either side, a motion Wayne is coming to understand indicates combined surprise and uncertainty. "I. I don't know, Mr. Scott," the ichthyoid says after a moment, still looking down at the floor. Wayne's heart clenches. "It would be…difficult."

Then he glances up and finally notices the way his—friend, dear God, okay—the way his friend's mouth is pinched in at the corners. "I would feel stuck," Minion says quickly, and then he swallows and tries to figure out how to continue. He doesn't want to voice any of this, but if he doesn't say it, Wayne will take this the wrong way. He stumbles forward. "Because I would want to support him, and of course I would support him, I'm his minion. But—but you're important, too, and…I wouldn't…know what to do. Don't ask me. Don't ask me that. I don't know."

Which answers Wayne's question about as well as he can hope. He breathes. "Okay. Stop. That's all I wanted, really."

"But I don't know," Minion snaps, still trying to come up with an answer that he'll find satisfactory. Wayne might be fine with that as a response, but Minion sure as heck isn't.

He really enjoys spending time with Wayne, he realizes. It's not just because he's bored and has nothing to do, anymore; he honestly likes going over to the Fortress and seeing Wayne. And he would genuinely miss him if he wasn't able to do that anymore.

He stares at Wayne in total astonishment. "I like you," he says, and he just sounds so completely floored that Wayne can't help but burst out laughing.

"Yeah," he finally manages. "Yeah, Minion, I like you too and I think we're friends. That okay with you?"

Minion stares at him and smiles, looking about as stunned as he sounds. "Yes," he says. "Yes. Friends. Thank you."

So that's one question answered, anyway. They are friends. Okay. Good. Now Minion only has to figure out what that entails. All of this was so much easier when we hated each other, he thinks, but he's actually rather pleased with the current situation. Things might be more complicated now, but they're also way more fun.

When Minion finally goes home to the Lair much later that afternoon, he's grinning to himself. This was the best Christmas he's had in years, even with Megamind absent. He almost can't wait to see what happens next year, when the gang will be all together for the holiday. It's going to be excellent, he knows that right now.

And that's when he realizes, with a sort of shock, that this is the first time that he's thought about the future a year from now and it isn't just a grey space with nothing in it. That's why Minion has always preferred to live in the present, but now when he looks forward, he sees—well, stuff happening. There are things he can look forward to. And they're good things, like people he cares about being happy (or, at least, not unhappy) and there are lights and there's a family in there somewhere. It's kind of an unconventional family, but it's there.

The immediate future is far more nebulous and far less pleasant, but…but everything is going to turn out okay in the end. It has to, because Minion won't let it do anything else.

There's more in store for him and Megamind than just social isolation and big spiky things that go zap. They have a future. A long future. With friends and family and people and, hopefully, some ridiculously complicated card games. Wayne will be there, too; Minion's not about to let anything permanent sever this peace with him. Not that he thinks that will be a problem; Megamind has been attached to Wayne in some emotional way for years, whether Wayne realizes that or not.

He'll check in with Lady Scott in a couple days, too, just to see how she's doing. This won't be so hard, Minion thinks. After all, caring about people is what he does. He needn't take care of them, but—he can care for them and about them, and that's probably more than enough.

All in all, this was an excellent Christmas.