Chapter Text
Macaque’s words ring in Wukong’s mind as he flies to Mk. She is waiting for him. He rushes past Her to Mk’s side. Wukong grabs Mk’s hand. It's still warm but it’s cold at the same time as the boy dangles between life and death.
She is at his side “What have you decided.” Her voice remains as kind as ever but it has a hint of sorrow folded within the layers of kindness and compassion.
“He’ll hate me if I let him live. You’re right he would hate immortality.” His voice catches on the last word of his sentence as the tears begin to fall.
She looks at Wukong but quickly averts Her eyes as if attempting to spare him the embarrassment.
“I wish you could save him.” Wukong says through tears, he sounds utterly defeated.
“I can.” She says.
“No you can’t if you let him live it wouldn’t be saving him, it would destroy him.” Wukong tries to blink to keep the tears from falling but fails and gives up and lets them fall anyways.
“I’m sorry.” She sounds genuinely apologetic, Her eyes are full of sympathy.
She walks over to the other side of Mk’s now rapidly cooling body and takes his other hand. She kneels and presses her lips to his hand.
“I am so sorry child. I wish I could save you, truly save you so that you may remain happy and carefree. Alas there are things even I cannot achieve.” She murmurs into the boy’s hand.
“You are welcome to leave.” There are tears in Her eyes. “I wish I could save him.” She smiles.
“Thank you for trying.” The words taste bitter in Wukong’s mouth.
Wukong gently lifts Mk up. Just for a moment he hears Mk draw a soft breath somewhere deep in the caverns of Wukong’s mind he has hope, hope that somehow Mk will spring back from this that he’ll suddenly wake up in Wukong’s arms and laugh before apologizing for scaring him.
Wukong hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until Mk drew his last.
Wukong lets the breath out and with it, a sob. His motions are almost robotic as he summons his cloud and flies back down to the mortal realm. Wukong goes slower than he ever has before on his cloud as he holds the corpse of his successor whom he loved like a son.
The tears are gone by the time Wukong reaches the ground where Mk’s friends reside. Now instead of tears all Wukong feels is an all encompassing emptiness that he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.
Wukong is swarmed by the group immediately as they look at Mk, who in death looks peaceful unlike in the last moments of his life in which he seemed to be in immense pain and a never ending struggle.
Mei is the first to speak “Thank you.” Her words are full of the emptiness Wukong feels but he can tell she’s grateful and it breaks his heart.
Wukong barely registers Mk being taken from him and the bodies around him moving away in slow, grief-filled steps.
“You did good.” Macaque has taken the place of the mass of bodies that surrounded Wukong before.
“I almost didn’t. I wanted him to live.” Wukong admits shamefully.
“It doesn’t matter what you almost did. You can’t change the past. You did good.” Macaque is calm.
Wukong opens his mouth to say something to Macaque but finds the other monkey gone, likely melted into the shadows and with the rest of the group. Wukong finds himself thinking about the purpose of Macaque’s words, were they to comfort him? Why would he bother? Surely after all Wukong’s put him through, Macaque wouldn’t go through the trouble to comfort him. Wukong doesn’t think for long because he’s being called to join the others.
A week later they have Mk’s funeral. Wukong tries to focus on anything but the coffin being lowered into the ground but no matter where he turns he’s reminded of what’s going on. The teary eyes of everyone around him, the soft sniffles that come from the corner of the room where Mei sits, the pictures scattered around showing happier times.
Wukong knows everyone in the room meaning there’s no childhood friends that Mk neglected to mention, no other friends outside the little bubble Mk created for himself that he had just started to let other people through. Everything Wukong sees is further evidence of how tragically short Mk’s life was, he can’t stand it but he forces himself to like some sick form of torture to punish himself for not being strong enough to stop this from ever happening.
Wukong is lost in his thoughts for the rest of the funeral. When it ends he’s on autopilot, his legs automatically immediately taking him out to the fresh air of the outside world that moves on happily without Mk even though Wukong himself feels like he never will.
Wukong doesn’t register someone walking up to him until Macaque is next to him.
“How are you holding up?” Those words are like daggers in Wukong’s already bleeding heart as they serve as yet another reminder that something is so terribly wrong.
“Why do you care?” Wukong answered his words lack any actual bite which destroys Wukong’s attempt at dredging up some of the normalcy from before Mk died.
“Why shouldn’t I.” Macaque sounds patient.
Wukong can’t come up with a good enough response so he stays quiet and wills Macaque to go away so that he can be alone with his thoughts. Almost as if reading his mind Macaque sinks into the shadows and disappears. For a moment Wukong almost misses Macaque’s company but tells himself that he deserves to be alone.
Deep down Wukong knows that nobody really blames him for Mk’s death but he can’t help but feel responsible after all, what’s the point of being powerful if you can’t protect the people you love?
It’s been at least a thousand years since Mk’s death but Wukong never really counted. He still feels suffocated by the responsibility of his successor’s death. So he sits alone on the very top of a mountain as he’s done ever since he left Mk’s funeral.
Wukong has never been good at sitting still, but he’s never been a somber person either yet, here he sits alone and depressed.
The shadows at Wukong’s feet swirl and grow into the shape of Macaque.
“What are you doing here?” Wukong’s voice is emotionless, completely void of any teasing playfulness or accusatory betrayal.
“Checking up on you.” Macaque says matter of factly.
“Why?” Wukong’s voice is once again emotionless.
“You know, mourning isn’t a good look on you.” Macaque’s voice has a slight edge to it, he’s teasing Wukong in the hopes that he can pull up some scrap of emotion from the all consuming black hole Mk’s death seems to have left.
“Should I be like you and pretend nothing’s wrong?” Wukong pushes back against Macaque’s words, desperate not to feel. Instead he goads Macaque in the hopes that he’ll anger him enough that he’ll either pick a fight with him or just go away.
“I didn’t come here to fight Wukong.” Macaque knows Wukong too well for his strategy to work.
“Why are you here then?”
“I already told you I’m checking up on you.”
“You’ve checked on me. You should go.”
“You should stop blaming yourself for Mk’s death.” Macaque’s retort makes Wukong stop.
“It was my fault.” Wukong’s voice is a whisper.
“It’s not.”
“How can you be so sure?” Wukong can feel the emotions he tried so desperately to bury coming back up to the surface.
“You didn’t kill him. You didn’t want him dead. There was nothing you could’ve done.” Macaque makes it sound so simple.
“That’s not enough!” Wukong’s emotions have broken free of their prison.
“Why.” Macaque is still calm despite Wukong yelling.
Wukong wrings his mind for an answer but comes up empty.
Macaque smirks “I’ll be gladly awaiting your answer.” He says before sinking into the shadow.
I’m here for you.
The words went unspoken but Wukong knew they were hidden in Macaque’s tease.
Wukong stares into the horizon and sees the sun and with it a glimmer of hope, a glimmer of healing.