Chapter Text
The first thing that Macaque was aware of was pain. Like someone was driving a hot knife into his skull, sending shivers through his body that turned his limbs to jelly and sapped him of all strength. To the point he could barely recoil from the dim light behind his closed eyes. It took everything in him to turn away, rustling against a warm blanket that managed to grate through his sensitive ears. Still he managed to turn, rolling onto his side with a grunt and a whimper, before burying his face in the warm and soft pillows. Pillows that carried the scent of earth and peaches. He sighed, melting into the scent even as he grumbled to himself. He could barely think through the pain, but the scent brought him enough clarity for one thing. He swore he was going to get Wukong back for this.
‘That’s a good sign, right?’
MK looked between his mentor and the slumbering Macaque on the couch. He had been utterly still when they first laid him out on the couch, cold and unresponsive to everything. But now he had shifted from unconsciousness to some form of sleep, if the way he had curled into the covers was anything to go by. He grumbled into the pillow, his tail flicking under the blanket.
Wukong sighed, watching Macaque’s ears flick in irritation. That normally meant pain. Which was going to put Macaque in a lovely mood when he woke up. ‘Let's not count our eggs until they hatch, kid,’ Wukong whispered. ‘We still don’t know what that demon was.’
MK sighed, squeezing his own arm in an effort to comfort himself. ‘He didn’t need to drag me out like that,’ MK grumbled. ‘I had it all under control.’
‘Oh did you now?’ Wukong hummed.
‘You know I did,’ MK hissed. ‘I was two seconds away from shattering that sigil before she could finish it.’ Wukong hummed, showing both acknowledgement and doubt with a single sound. MK scowled, ‘I had it and you know it. It would have been fine. You guys don’t need to baby me.’
Wukong huffed, ‘Gee, I wonder why we might be feeling extra protective of you at the moment?’
MK sighed. ‘I’m never living that down, am I?’
Wukong patted MK on the shoulder, ‘Absolutely not.’ He guided MK to the door, sparing a moment to look back at Macaque. Still sleeping, a slight scowl in the hint of his brow that Wukong could see. Wukong closed the door behind him quietly, trying to make as little noise as possible. Just in case Macaque wanted to complain when he woke up.
‘You should head home, kid,’ Wukong said, following MK off the porch and into the fresh air. ‘Pigsy’s probably worried about you too.’
‘Are you sure?’ MK said. ‘I mean, I’m happy to help out, get you guys some food that isn’t made of your hair, or-’
‘Kid? Go home.’
MK sighed. ‘Fine, but only if you promise to keep an eye on Macaque.’ Wukong groaned, but MK only crossed his arms in response. ‘Hey, someone needs to make sure he’s okay.’
‘He’s Macaque,’ Wukong scoffed. ‘When is he not okay?’
MK blinked at Wukong. ‘You’re kidding, right?’ Wukong went to open his mouth, but MK cut in before he could speak. ‘Please, Monkey King. I’ll be back tomorrow, and I’ll bring some medicine to see if it can help with whatever pain he’s got. Just…call me if something goes wrong before then?’
Wukong sighed, ‘Fine. Yes, fine. I’ll keep an eye on the big emo baby, okay?’
MK gave Wukong a smile, one that went to his eyes even as it showed how tired he was. ‘Thanks Monkey King.’ He hopped into the air, his cloud appearing under his feet to buffet him into the air. ‘Want me to bring anything else tomorrow?’
‘Peach chips?’
‘Don’t you already have the world’s supply here?’
‘Hey, you asked.’
MK chuckled, ‘I’ll see what I can do then. See you tomorrow.’
The cloud flew off, carrying MK off towards the ocean, and the city that could just be seen on the horizon. Wukong waved him off, watching MK with a soft smile, until he could barely be seen in the distance. Only then did Wukong’s smile drop. The worry he had barely been keeping buried flared up again as he pulled out his phone, sending Pigsy a quick message. The two had never spoken so much before now, and now here he was messaging the chef daily. Even though Pigsy had never asked. Even though it was just the same three or four messages on repeat between them. Still, it didn’t stop Wukong the second the kid was out of his sight. And it didn’t stop him from staring at his phone, waiting with bated breath for Pigsy’s reply. The phone dinged, the confirmation that the kid was home making Wukong sigh in relief. He shoved the phone away, shaking his fears about the kid out of his mind. He was home. He was safe. He was fine. Wukong took a deep breath, bracing himself as he looked back at his shack. Now there was only one headache left for him to worry about.
Despite MK’s worries about the shadow monkey, Macaque continued to sleep without being disturbed once. Aside from the occasional groan in his sleep Macaque didn’t stir, not even when a couple of monkeys slipped into the shack and poked him before Wukong chased them off. He was clearly sleeping now, still in discomfort, but otherwise on some sort of road to recovery. By rights, Wukong could have just left him in the living room and gone to get some much needed rest in his very comfortable bed. But the kid’s worried face was stuck in his head all night, making him toss and turn against his nest of pillows. Right until Wukong caved. He grumbled to himself when he grabbed his best pillows, laying them out in the corner of the living room so he could at least be comfortable while keeping half an eye on Macaque. He flopped down with a yawn, sparing another glance to the slumbering monkey, before rolling his eyes at himself. The things I do for this kid, he thought to himself, right before he drifted off to sleep.
*****
It wasn’t a surprise that Wukong woke up first in the morning. For one, the spot he had picked happened to be the corner that the sun hit first when it shone through the window, making him squint in discomfort at the sudden light that roused him from his dreamless sleep. But for another, when he looked over at Macaque he saw that the monkey’s state was not any better. His shoulders were stiff, ears pinned against his head, while his tail curled in discomfort.
‘Damn,’ Wukong whispered, ‘You look like hell.’ Macaque groaned, twisting to hide his face in the pillow more. Wukong stood up, taking a moment to stretch the cricks out of his back from his makeshift pillow pile, before turning to the kitchen. ‘Think a peach would help?’
Macaque chuckled, even as he grimaced in pain. ‘You and your damn peaches,’ he grumbled. He tried to shift to sit up, which only made him groan in pain. ‘Why do I feel like I’ve gone ten rounds in the ring with Yellowtusk?’
Wukong blinked in surprise at the mention of the old fighter, before shaking his head. ‘Dunno, but that sounds like fun.’
‘Oh screw you,’ Macaque chuckled, making Wukong frown slightly. Macaque sounded off. Sounded…different. But also familiar. ‘I swear,’ Macaque said, ‘that’s the last time I let you convince me to get into a drinking competition with Peng.’
Wukong barely held back his gasp of surprise. ‘What?’
‘You heard,’ Macaque said. His eyes were squeezed shut to hide from the sunlight, but he was slowly turning on the couch to try and sit himself up more. ‘I don’t care how good the wine is, you can do that on your own next time.’
Wukong swallowed against a dry mouth. ‘What do you think happened last night?’
Macaque snorted, finally lifting himself up enough to be close to sitting. ‘Damn, and I thought I got drunk. How wasted did you get exactly?’ Macaque squinted his eyes open, blinking against the light. Before his gaze rested on Wukong, and his eyes shot open in surprise. There was a beat of silence, before Macaque snorted again, bursting into laughter. Wukong flinched in surprise, an unnerving chill running down his spine as he saw, he heard, a laughter he thought he would never hear again. This wasn’t Macaque’s cruel laughter or scheming chuckle. This was a bright and innocent sound that took Wukong straight back to days and nights in trees telling jokes and playing games.
‘By the Gods,’ Macaque laughed. ‘What are you wearing?’
Wukong frowned, looking down at his outfit. His normal armour, his phoenix feathers pinned in his mane, nothing out of the ordinary. ‘What’s wrong with this?’
Macaque continued to laugh, even as the laughter made him grimace in pain. ‘Oh no,’ he whined, ‘my head hurts too much to laugh.’ Still he giggled though as he flopped back into his pillows, his tail flicking happily as he looked Wukong’s outfit up and down. ‘What kind of deal or bet did you lose to end up in that?’ Wukong scowled, which only made Macaque burst into another round of giggles. ‘Oh….oh man,’ Macaque gasped. ‘This has to be Azure. This has his name all over it.’
Wukong could feel his tail twitching, his heart racing, his chest tightening in panic, all of which he tried to push down. ‘Excuse you, there’s nothing wrong with my outfit.’
‘If you say so, bud,’ Macaque said. His grin was big and easy when he flashed it at Wukong, making Wukong’s heart pang with an old heartache awakened again. ‘Man, I think I got off easy with just the hangover now.’
Wukong scowled, his face heating up under the fur. From embarrassment or another emotion that was making tears prick at his eyes he couldn’t tell, but either way it had him stomping across the room and to the door to some quiet and fresh bloody air. He only made it halfway across the room when Macaque gasped. ‘Wait wait wait,’ Macaque said. ‘Are you wearing phoenix feathers?’
Wukong’s head snapped to him. ‘Yeah, why?’
Macaque snorted again, the third time in a minute. That must be some sort of record. ‘And a new crown as well? Way to keep it humble, Your Majesty .’ Wukong flinched at that as Macaque rolled onto his back. ‘At least you’ll look the part when we do this crazy plan of yours. Wait,’ he said, his mirth vanishing in a moment. ‘We’re not going after the Emperor today, right? I don’t think I can even walk straight right now, never mind fight.’
Wukong swallowed, blinking back tears. ‘Nah,’ Wukong said. ‘I wouldn’t be that mean.’ Macaque sighed in relief, falling back onto the pillows. ‘I’ll uh…’ Wukong stuttered, ‘leave you to get some rest.’ Macaque nodded, his eyes closing as he relaxed. ‘You uh…let me know if you need anything, okay bud?’ The word felt weird in his mouth, to be saying it sincerely again to Macaque after so long, and yet Macaque didn’t even flinch at it.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘This isn’t my first hangover, and I doubt it’ll be my last. Just know, I’m getting both you and Peng back for this.’
Wukong smiled sadly, biting his lip to stop it quivering. ‘Yeah, like you could.’
‘Don’t doubt me,’ Macaque shot back, chuckling again as Wukong slipped out the shack door.
Wukong eased the door closed, making sure it latched as silently as possible. And that it was definitely latched. Before he leaned against the old wood, sliding down the door to curl up on his porch. He needed to keep his breathing even. Even as his heart threatened to both tear itself apart and burst out of his chest, even as he couldn’t hold his tears back and had to cover his mouth to muffle his sobs, he had to keep his breathing even. Macaque couldn’t hear him crying. Macaque couldn’t get a chance to suspect, not this version of him. This version would pick up on it so quickly, and then his brow would crease in worry. In that way that was only a faint memory at this point for the old king. He would huddle closer, asking what was wrong. Would call him bud. Wrap an arm around his shoulders. Suggest a game to cheer him up. Just like old times. Wukong swallowed a whimper, trying to keep his breathing steady. It was him. His best friend, his oldest friend. His warrior. From the time before everything went wrong. Wukong squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a shuddering gasp. What had that demon done to him?