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Macaque felt like he was going insane. After the whole LBD deal the kid had dragged him to ‘therapy’. Of course give the kid an inch and he’ll run a mile, in a good way… usually.
This was one of those times Macaque wasn’t quite sure of, honestly it was… probably a good thing? Maybe? He’d rather die again honestly. Now ‘what could possibly be stressing him out so much?’ you may ask? Well the kid decided to send Wukong to therapy as well… with Macaque.
So now Macaque had two different therapy appointments in a week, one for him and one for, ugh , them. Macaque will never say or think ‘them’ again; even the insinuation that they could ever be anything together is, quite frankly, insulting. Macaque is smarter than that.
Unfortunately things can’t happen to Macaque unless it’s bad, and bad things can’t happen to Macaque unless it gets worse. So now that Macaque is unearthing centuries buried trauma, both by himself and with- ‘ew- gagging’ - HIM, he’s learning new things. One of those things being that he was so defensive and aggressive towards Wukong as a fear response, among other things of course.
‘Cause apparently dying by the hands of someone you trusted more than anyone is extremely traumatizing, and leaves a lasting effect. Right…
ANYWAYS, so now that Macaque has ‘confronted’ this fact he’s trying to reverse it, if you will. Which means he has to actively stop himself from trying to start fights with ‘The Great Sage’, over literally everything, he honest to Gods wasn’t even aware of how often he did it.
So his fight or flight is getting all kind of messed up from the contradictory inputs. Which means he just kinda… freezes for lack of a better word. Or, on the rare occasion, flinches which is always just oh-so fun. Macaque had never been more stressed over the simplest of shit in his overly long life.
Macaque’s therapist- which he’s half convinced is some sort of extremely pure deity, there’s no way someone that good exists naturally - mentioned that people with trauma can actually struggle with non-stressful situations. Something about how trauma responses work, about how the brain gets used to stress to protect itself, and how moving from a stressful situation to a calm one can be jarring and awful. Which may be, in part, why he’s so fight-y and flight-y right now.
Going from burning on a mountain that just so happens to be your home- as well as host all of your loved ones-, to fighting your closest friend and dying. Then to Diyu, being an ice demon's meat puppet with the added bonus of sentience, only to finally wind up in a place of protection and peace. Macaque rather he just stayed dead, this whole living thing is way too complicated.
Macaque must say some of the ‘Pretty Awful Things™’ caught him very off guard. An example of this is how guilty Wukong looks every time he freezes or flinches. He’s not even sure why exactly it hurts to see, but it does… like, a lot. Which is super wrong because, yeah, that asshole should feel guilty, he killed him for Gods sake! Macaque should be reveling in the expression! Maybe even rub it in some!
It’s just he can’t, he knows why of course, even if he doesn’t particularly want to admit it. It’s so easy to say you think someone should suffer, it’s so easy to just want to hate someone, but it’s so hard to actually do that. Macaque wants to hate Wukong, he really truly does, but Macaque can’t. He’s always had a select few people he loves or trusts, only a handful he’s loyal to. All of them- and he means all of them - have always been privy to his unconditional love.
Which fucking sucks because Wukong used to be at the tippity top of ‘who I love the most’ list. So Macaque will probably never be able to stop loving him in a way that makes him want to take his supposed ‘immortality’ out for a joyride.
So, knowing all of that , Macaque maybe should’ve known something not-so-great would happen; and he did! Somewhat. He just didn’t expect it to be him losing his last few marbles and flipping the actual fuck out over Wukong holding his staff.
Holding. His. Own. Fucking. Staff. That’s it, that’s the sacrilegious final straw that broke the monkeys back. Are you fucki-
It all started on a weekend. MK had somehow convinced Pigsy to close up shop early every two weeks for the bi-weekly ‘makes sure no ones dead or dying- yes mentally counts Red Son - check up’ . Macaque doesn’t even remember what they had been doing. He’d shown up, gave his usual quip to Wukong- something that had been becoming increasingly light hearted over the weeks -, then went to his corner spot. Mo soon joined him, deciding he was the chosen one for cuddles that day.
Macaque hadn’t been having the best day prior, it wasn’t that it was terrible , it was just-… off. He couldn’t quite place it, he just felt run down? It wasn’t a horrible feeling but it definitely wasn’t a good one. Everyone seemed to pick up on the fact he wasn’t up to social interaction and left him alone for the time being.
The weight of Mo on his lap, plus the sound of purring and feeling of fur between his fingers, helped relax him by a ton. It helped so much in fact that he almost didn’t hear the specific sound of the Ruyi Jingu Bang being brought out. Key word, almost.
Tension instantly bled into Macaque, making him feel tighter than a rubber band pulled to its absolute limits, and more energized than a live wire. “-eah, and if you do this-!” Macaque looked over just in time to see Wukong attempting to show off borderline color guard skills. Which he would totally attempt to join with his shadow copy, just to start up another competition- of which had also been getting increasingly friendlier -; but, alas, he was too busy trying to figure how to reorient his breathing.
When did breathing even get so hard? Unlike certain other immortal monkeys, he kinda needs to know how to do that. Or else he’ll really be paying Diyu another visit; and it had all been, one hundred percent, dramatics when he said he’d rather be dead than deal with all the complexities of life.
Also, there’s noise? Are- are people talking? Who’s talking, why can’t he hear them? He- he has six ears , why can’t he hear them?! ‘What’s wrong with my ears? Somethings wrong with my ears- WHAT’S WRONG WITH MY EARS?!’ Macaque thought a bit hysterically and a quite a bit more panicked. That thought process only served to worsen everything .
Suddenly, Macaque caught a flash of gold something from the corner of his good eye. Then the world jerked so hard he fell off something ‘was I sitting? Why was I sitting? Where am I-‘ , or, no, the world didn’t jerk. He- he did? He... fell, fell off what? What’s happening, what’s going on? Where is he, why was he sitting?
‘Was I sitting? Maybe the world did actually jerk and I hit my head and forgot. Where- where am I? Or- or maybe I’m asleep? Is this the floor, am I on the floor? Is this even happening right now? The floor of what? Is this real? Where am I? Am I real? No. No, no I’m not real. I’m dead- I’m supposed to be dea-“
Macaque didn’t get to finish that thought, his vision developing black splotches before giving out completely. No, no not my sight, anything but my sight. Please , I already lost half of it, I don’t want to lose the rest - The floor reaching up to meet his face. Or was his face falling down to reach the floor-?
Macaque woke up to a splitting headache. His head felt way too light and neck way too weak. It all but spelled passing out from asphyxiation. Which, he feels, he should probably not know what feels like, but he does soooo- oh well?
Pulling open his eyelids took quite a bit of effort, something he’d only admit to under duress. As soon as they were opened Macaque regretted it, wishing he pretended to be asleep until he actually fell asleep. There were people surrounding him and fretting over him, people he knows , but- still.
“Mm- wha’ hap’n?” and wow! Doesn’t he just sound great? Truly a cool balm for all their worries! “You- uh, you don’t remember..?” Mk worriedly questioned. Macaque forced himself into a sitting position, Sandy quickly reaching forward to him but stopping just before contact. Instead hovering awkwardly as if he’s not quite sure what to do. Macaque resolutely ignored him.
“Uh, sorry kiddo. Not really-“ Macaque was suddenly hit with an onslaught of information, his brain finally deeming him worthy of it. “-nevermind,” he groaned, leaning forward to put his head in his hands. Thourghly embarrassed because ‘what the fuck brain?’ . “Shit- sorry bud.” Macaque brought his face out of his hands, slapping on his best theater smile. “Didn’t mean to worry ya’, just got lost for a bit I guess.” Most of them seem to sense this was a No-Go-Topic™ and trickled away, going back to their previous activities. Others did not.
“Why though?” Mei questioned. “‘Why though’ what?” Macaque queried back at the same time MK let out a slightly shocked and scolding “Mei!”. “Oh right- social cues- uuugh, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to,” she stated. “Can’t exactly answer anything if I don’t know the question, kid,” Macaque said, raising an eyebrow. “Oh! I was just wondering why… you got lost,” she said, sounding much less sure of herself than last time.
Oh, well, ok then. The others could pretend they weren’t listening in all they want, but Macaque knows all the tells. He’s literally the master at listening into things he shouldn’t be listening into. “Gonna have to pass up answering that one. Seems like a conversation to be had with a therapist rather than a 20 something year old kid.”
“Yeah, that’s fair.”
Then it returned to mostly normal, besides the worried looks MK kept unabashedly sending him every few minutes. Mo came back over, Macaque had completely forgotten about them in all that, and Macaque went back to petting them. Luckily the different aches and pains that came with passing out from lack of oxygen faded pretty quickly.
Eventually it was time to leave, MK and Sandy asked him if he was ok one time each, which was nice. Pigsy also slipped him a bowl of noodles, making sure to add a vaguely derogatory comment about his stature to keep up his ‘you’re a piece of shit and I don’t like you’ facade.
Tang not-so-subtly mentioned doing another shadow play collab soon. Macaque also had someone slip him a note about how PIF, his sworn sister, missed him and how he needs to come visit sometime. ‘Gee, I wonder who could have ever possibly slipped me this,’ he thought sarcastically, the internally spoken words all but drenched in mirth.
It’s nice to have people that care, he decides.
Unfortunately, as stated before, nothing bad can happen to Macaque without it getting worse. Case in point, Wukong. Macaque had decided to walk back to his rundown dojo, wanting to enjoy the scenery. He very much regrets that now.
“Sooooo, what was all that about?” Wukong questioned, floating on his Nimbus cloud. Macaques appreciated that he was on his left, the side with his good eye. Not that he’d ever say that though. “It was about something best mentioned to a therapist,” Macaque countered, just to be difficult.
“We literally share therapy sessions, remember?” Wukong deadpanned. “Now spill the tea.” Macaque will never forgive Mei for teaching Wukong slang. Macaque sent a small glare towards Wukong, who was reclining on his cloud, hands behind his head and eyes closed. He looked as if he didn’t have a single care in the world right now. The occasional anxious flutter of his tail gave him away however.
Honestly, Macaque really wanted to be difficult and resolutely not answer. Just run as many circles around the topic as it took to get home. Gods know he’d never be able to out stubborn Wukong, his only reprieve would be getting to his house. Wukong at least respects his boundaries there. However this topic did directly involve ‘The Great Sage’, and he’d definitely have to bring it up at some point. So, here goes nothing he supposes.
“Your staff.” Macaque was not facing him. Honestly Wukong hadn’t expected him to be, much less to actually answer. “My staff..?” he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and sat up, crossing his legs. “What’s wrong with my staff? You never reacted like that to it before , did you?” the question sounded a tad disbelieving towards the end and Wukong cringed. He definitely didn’t mean to make it sound like Macaque was lying.
Luckily Macaque didn’t seem to pick up on it, or if he did he knew better and decided to ignore it. “Yeah, but-“ Macaque crossed his arms, burrowing his face slightly lower into his scarf. “-this is the first time after, well, everything that you’ve-… that I’ve seen you wield it. So… yeah,” he finished awkwardly.
Wow, um, ok. Just rip his heart again out why don’t you. He must have been quiet for too long because Macaque glanced over, probably saw something really pathetic too if his sudden expression shift was anything to go off of. “Hey- uh, it’s- it’s fine. I mean it’s not like you knew or-“ “No, it’s not fine. It really isn’t,” Wukong cut him off with a wry smile. Macaque started chewing his scarf as they both looked away from each other, walking in uncomfortably emotionally charged silence.
Eventually Wukong opened his mouth, not quite sure what he was going to say, hopefully something good; but he didn’t get to voice it as they’d reached the time weathered dojo. “Ah,” Wukong muttered. “Guess that’s my cue to go, huh? I’ll uh, see you in therapy!” Wukong willed his Nimbus to start ascending. “Wait!” and he waited.
Wukong turned back to Macaque, raising an eyebrow at his silence. Macaque shifted his weight from foot to foot awkwardly before settling on his right foot, leaning against his front door and putting up his dramatic and usually convincing facade. Key word being usually, it looked much too stunted to be convincing currently. “Already leaving? After walking me all the way back here?” It wasn’t actually that far. “C’mon, great sage, I gotta repay you somehow. Can’t stay in debt no matter what, don’t have the best rep with those, y’know?” he said, shifting his weight back to his left foot and off the door. He nudged it open slightly with his right foot, cocky grin turning a bit more unsure of himself. The unspoken invitation was heard loud and clear.
Wukong is currently fighting tooth and nail to keep the borderline giddy feeling from rising up to his face. ‘C’mon Monkey King, get yourself together! You’re most likely just going to talk about trauma, or whatever, decidedly not fun stuff,’ he hates how not even that worked. A small smile settled on his face despite his best efforts. “‘Course not, debts are so Tang Dynasty,” he said, hoping off and dispelling his cloud. Macaque visibly relaxed. “Great! I’m sure I’ve got rat poison flavored tea for the special guests somewhere in here.”
“Oh you’re just too kind, truly the best host I’ve ever met.”
“I can’t believe people actually invite you into their house. No way it’s willingly.”
“Wha- hey! I’ll have you know that tons of people-“ Wukong began petulantly, cutting himself off mere moments later. “YOU'RE BEING A HYPOCRITE!” he shouted, dramatically pointing at Macaque. “YOU LITERALLY JUST-“ Wukongs completely genuine and totally just verbal rampage was cut off by the sound of loud laughter. Wukong blinked and looked at the kitchenette from where he’d plopped down on what had to be the rattiest couch he’s ever seen, to see Macaque gripping the edge of the kitchen counter. Doubled over in his laughter, tea kettle settled on the stove next to him, no doubt boiling water.
Hm, ok, well. This certainly did NOT help the eerily familiar feelings Wukong has been trying to shove down for the past few weeks. Thankfully Wukong managed to pull his slack jaw back off of the floor before Macaque finished laughing. “You’re so easy ,” he breathed, still giggling a little as he lifted the now screaming kettle from the gas stove. Wukong huffed, pulling on his best pout indignant glare. “I am not easy , maybe you’re just super annoying . Ever think about that, huh?”
Macaque rolled his eyes, grabbing two different tea flavors and a couple mugs. “Oh totally, super annoying. It’s a learned skill, spend enough time around some guy called Shi Hou and I’m sure you’ll learn it too. Oh wait,” Macaque feigned shock, glancing at Wukong before turning back to his tea task. Wukong sputtered in offense. “Yeah, well, spend enough time around some guy called Liu Er and you’ll learn- uh,” Macaque snorted at his lack of response.
“Oh you’ll learn alright,” Macaque smirked, picking up the mugs of finished tea and heading over. “Shut up,” Wukong grumbled, taking the peach colored mug from him and drinking it. Macaque sat down next to him, the fun atmosphere evaporating for an uncomfortable one in record time. Suddenly Wukong was very glad to have the tea, if only so he could avoid starting this conversation.
Also because it was peach tea and Macaque hates how peaches taste. There’s only one reason he’d have this and Wukong’s never going to let him live it down. “So, you were right-“ “When am I not?” “-it isn’t actually ok.” Despite the heavy sentence, Wukongs interjection managed to pull a small snort out of the other. He’s taking that as a win.
There was silence for a bit, neither knowing where to go from here, their therapist usually helps with this. ‘Alright Monkey King,’ Wukong thought. ‘It’s your turn now.’
“Is there anything I could… I dunno, do? To help?” Wukong asked, setting the mug down in his lap, keeping one hand wrapped around it. He raised his other hand to scratch the back of neck, resolutely looking away. “I’m… not sure? I mean this isn’t something I expected so… uh, yeah,” Macaque replied just as awkward. ‘There’s been a lot of awkwardness tonight, huh?’ Wukong thought.
“Alright, well, I don’t think there’s much we can say on this whole… situation… right now. We’ll probably have to wait until therapy,” Wukong stated. “Uh, yeah, right. Uhm, I’ll see you then I guess..?” Macaque parroted one of Wukongs earlier comments, rising from his seat. Wukong quickly followed, handing him his empty mug. Something was wrong with this. Wukong wasn’t sure what , exactly, but he felt like ending this here- like this - was running away. Gods know Wukong’s done enough of that already, Macaque doesn’t deserve that, never did.
“Uh, actually,” Wukong started hesitantly, his courage grew a bit when Macaque paused his journey to the kitchenette to look at him. Raising an eyebrow in a ‘carry on, I’m listening’ kind of gesture. “It’s a long way to the mountain ya’ know?” It’d take him no more than five minutes to fly there on his nimbus cloud. “Plus it’s super late at night-“ It’s seven thirty two. “-and what good host just lets their guest leave, all alone, in these kinds of streets?” Megapolis is actually pretty safe, besides the occasional demon trying to rule the world that is.
Macaque didn’t say any of that though, instead he gave Wukong a mildly shocked look. “Are you , the Great Safe Equal To Heaven asking me to have a sleepover right now?” Macaque questioned, a splitting grin over taking his face with every word. Wukong groaned, his face heating up. “Why’d you have to phrase it like that ?”
“So you admit it-“
“No! I simply asked for a place to stay in these trying times.”
“You-“ Macaque didn’t get to finish his sentence before he bursted out laughing, dropping the mugs through a shadow portal and directly to the sink. Wukong quickly followed, despite his best efforts to remain indignant, leaning on the couch for support as he doubled over. “That’s- that’s s-sO DUMB, ” Macaque blurted out between laughs. Wukong was a bit too busy laughing his ass off to respond, settling for the world's worst glare instead. It only made Macaque laugh harder.
Once they calmed down Macaque answered his question. “I mean, I guess? MK has been bugging us to ‘hang out’ outside of therapy or the bi-weekly ‘you’re-not-dead-are-you?’ check ups.”
“The ‘bi-weekly ‘you’re-not-dead-are-you?’ check ups’?”
“Is that not what it is?”
“No comment.”
Macaque snorted. Gods, this interaction was not helping those feelings that totally-do-not-exist. “Right, well, I only have one bed so you get the floor,” Macaque said, walking off to his room. Wukong followed not quite sure what to do with himself. “The floor? Seriously? No wonder you don’t have any guests,” Wukong scoffed, rolling his eyes. Macaque half hearted swatted at him, the other easily dodging. “You want something better? Fight me for it.”
The two entered the room right as the sentence left Macaque's mouth. Was it a joke? Obviously. Was Wukong going to take this obvious slander lying down? Absolutely not. Wukong can not and will not be blamed for tackling Macque to the floor, or the borderline brawl that followed immediately after.
Eventually the two of them had tired out, Macaque sprawled out starfish style on top of Wukong. Wukong laid on his back, knees bent and feet planted on the floor, legs on either side of Macaque's midsection, his arms spread to the side. “That’s what you get for slandering me,” Wukong huffed, slightly out of breath. He forgot how slippery and fast Macaque could be when one is tumbling with him. “Hm, sacrilegious,” Macaque agreed, clearly exhausted.
“Wha- hey! Don’t fall asleep on me-!”
“Shhhhh, ‘m tired. Sleep now, talk later.”
“Macaque- uuugh, how’re you already asleep.” Ok so Wukong has two options. One, don’t move, instead summon some hair blankets and pillows and indulge . Two, move Macaque to his bed and take the floor.
…
Wukong has never claimed to not be selfish. Any problems this may arise are future Wukongs problems, now is the time for sleep. Just like Macaque said. Wukong plucked a couple strands of hair from his head and blew on them, creating a handful of blankets and pillows. Wukong lowered his legs to the floor as he pulled the blankets over them, putting a pillow under his head and the others around them. Carefully laying his arms across Macaques resting form, so gentle in all his movements, as if afraid of breaking something valuable.
Which was true, Macaque is very valuable and he’d never forgive himself if he hurt him again. Still hasn’t forgiven himself for the last few times. He needs to prove that he’s better, needs to be better. Macaque deserves that and so much more. Wukong doesn’t know what god he pleased enough that they let him have a chance to reconcile with Macaque again, but he doesn’t plan to disappoint, to waste it. Wukong will show him that he can be better. Macaque will always deserve his best, and it’s about time he starts giving exactly that, it’s been about time for a while now.
“Goodnight Liu Er,” Wukong murmured softly, bringing a hand up to gently push his hair back and pecking his forehead. Setting his hand back down, closing his eyes and leaning back he completely missed the way Macaque's face went bright red. A goofy smile lighting up his face.
‘Maybe,’ Macaque thought. ‘Maybe I don’t mind the possibility of an ‘us’ as much as I originally thought,’ he breathed out softly, maybe Macaque really isn’t as smart as he thought. His smile dimmed into something softer, letting sleep take him under for real this time. Today, despite its faults, was a good one, they think.