Chapter Text
Wednesday evening, in the afternoon.
(Macaque's dream)
Macaque was covered in blood and before he knew it, another powerfull swing of someones fist swung to his face. He didn't understand, couldn't. All that he could feel was pain and fear, if not for the terrifying person beating him up right now. He couldn't move, it felt like he couldn't control his own body. Then, his mouth started speaking on it's own. He was asking the person to stop but, they never did. He once thought that he'd live the rest of his life with him, that he'd bask in the sun eating fruits all day until they're stomach was full, and repeat the process until they got tired of it. ... Who was ''they'' he wondered? 'It was my sun, obviously' his mind spoke in his place. Now Macaque was even more confused... Another swing was directed towards him. He coughed up blood, along with a few tears. He pleaded for the person, the monster to stop, that it was painful.
How naive of him to think that he'd stop to even considerate your feelings. Wukong doesn't listen to anyone no, he does whatever the hell he wants. Macaque hit him back, grasping and scratching at the floor to turn around quickly and run. He tried slipping into the shadows, but the monster pulled him back. Macaque screamed, scratched and bitting the attacker, but he never even flinched. What was this guy even made of anyway? He didn't know. He just wanted this to stop. Then, all of a sudden, the monster finally pulled back. For a split second, just for a second, he could see the light of the day shining upon him. He felt so mesmerized that he almost forgot what was happening. He was so blinded by the sun's rays that he didn't see coming the blood tainted staff being pushed into his head. So hard that he awoke from his dream at the same time that the staff hit his head.
Macaque, soaking wet from that horrible nightmare, woke up from his sudden slumber. He was hurting everywhere on his body. To his head, to stomach. To his wings and now almost his left eye. He didn't know how that was even possible, nor how many more times he'd have to make this ''dream''. Everytime he dreamed about it, about this event, it felt like he couldn't control anything. To his body and emotions, and even sometimes his thoughts... And every time he asked, he always got the same answer. 'Wukong was his sun'. But who the heck was Wukong? He slowly sat up in the bed, being cautious as to not pain himself more than he was already in. He wasn't in the woods, that was to be expected. What was not expected was that he was bandaged. Did the Mountain Protector patch him up? What a stupid question, of course it must've been him. He looked around the room a little bit, noticing the opened window right beside the bed. It was big enough for him to crawl through in case of emergencies. Though, he won't be able to use his wings anytime soon, they were too damaged. Curse the Gods and Lords of this realm for this.
He noticed the left over bangades and band-ades that was sitting on the desk next to the door, a bowl of water with an old looking towel next to it. An ugly painting of an orange dot sitting next to a stick figure with brown hair in a grass field, watching the setting yellow dot, adorned the wall right up the desk. He didn't give it much mind though, because a small and pleasant breeze was passing along him. He could almost feel sleepy in this cozy atmosphere if it wasn't for how bad the bed smelled and for the pain he felt from his injuries. He turned his head back to the window. A giant grass field could be seen from far beyond. Macaque slowly made his way out of bed, wincing as one of his wings touched the mattress the slightest bit. He leaned against the window, observing the view that had been brought to him. A flower field.
To his right, there was a cliff, the ocean sprouting from underneath it. Right beside it was the flower field. To his left though, there was the entrance to the forest he was just in. The long and scary trees almost seemed friendly on this side of the forest, welcoming. He observed the horizon and in the distance, among the flowers lied what looked like a grave. Maybe his past lover, he thought. While looking at the scene that mother nature provided for him, he saw what looked like the Mountain Protector, shirtless and probably sweaty from the sun, carrying dozens of logs over his shoulders. He carried them from the forest to a little barn beside the house. Macaque didn't know what to think in that moment. All he could feel was his migraine getting stronger and stronger, making him wish he didn't have super hearing. He could hear the tiredness in the little sounds that the Mountain Protector was doing each time he lifted, and dropped the logs he was carrying into the barn.
Out of a sudden, like he somehow knew he was being watched, he turned around to look over at Macaque, who was still by the window. He felt dizzy all of a sudden, tiredness sticking to him like glue. After realizing that the Mountain Protector spotted him though, he suddenly felt very energetic. He tried getting up but instead just ended up hitting the back of his head against the window.
''shit!'' he cursed, clutching his head with both of his hands before realizing that the other simian was already making his way across the field. He heard him walking at first, but then suddenly started sprinting. He almost felt scared at the idea of facing the Mountain Protector, who looked coincidentally just like the monster in his dream...He often dreamed of the future, so this sort of dream wasn't new to him. He was always one step ahead of everyone, because of these dreams. But this one was different. he couldn't move, couldn't speak or think of anything. And if he did, something (or someone), was answering his questions. Vaguelly. He was about to open the window wider when the other simian barged into the room, panting from the fast run.
''You're up?'' he asked in between breaths, his chest rising and falling quickly. Macaque suddenly froze when he spoke, caught in between his instinct and his radical thinking. If he just jumped out the window right now, he'd probably have enough time to run back to the forest. And if he was lucky enough, he'd let him go. But his other side was telling him that, he would not have enough time to run, not even enough time to realize that he'd get caught and died. He stayed frozen in place, these thoughts and the dream from earlier rushing through his mind at the speed of light. The Mountaint Protector seemed to catch up to his anxiousness and decided to lift his arms into the air, showing that he didn't have a weapon or anything to harm him.
''I'm just trying to help...'' The Mountain Protector spoke as if he was afraid of scaring him, not moving from his spot and making direct eye contact with the Six-Eared-Macaque. The angel wouldn’t be lying if he said that he felt conflicted at the sight of him. He clutched his fist, digging his nails into his skin. It was an old habit of him, to calm himself and come back to his senses.
‘why did you help me.?’ the Six-Eared-Macaque asked with an air wariness. Has he already said that he felt extremely wary towards this powerful being? Because if so, he was still very, very wary of Wuk-... Wukong who? The loud sigh of the farmer standing a few meters away from him broke him out of his daze, reality hitting him back.
‘I helped you because you were injured,’ He paused, taking a second to choose his words. Macaque cut him off before he could say anything more though.
‘why did you help me? I did not need your help.’ Macaque spoke in a firm tone, not letting his fear and anxiousness slip out again. The other simian looked at him with surprise, probably not expecting him to speak so harshly towards the person who helped him. He sighed again, looking tired already. Macaque, though, had regain his energy back(mostly). The thought of being chased down by a person like him made him want to bite his own tongue. Maybe because of that dream he just had. Maybe then he’d have a peaceful death, away from all those fuckers from above. Macaque asked his question again but with more impatience.
‘why did you save me??’ Macaque, c’mon buddy, you can’t be that dense right? Or maybe you are.
‘why should I have a reason to save someone who was injured?’ The loud and clear voice of the farmer resonating through the room. He furrowed his eyebrows at him.
The Six-Eared-Macaque tensed at the loud noise, his ears fluttering away from it. He took a step backwards. The Mountain Protector saw and looked back up to him. He took a few steps closer towards him in an attempt to calm him down, but it only made him want to back off more.
‘Look, I just treated your wounds because you were bleeding- a lot .’ Macaque didn’t care though, the fact that the Mountain Protector was seeing him so weak and vulnerable made a wound on his pride. He continued backing off until he somehow hit the side table that was next to the bed, one he didn’t even see was there in the first place. He groaned, cursed his unluckiness, his wings moving without him wanting to and hurting him even more. Just as he was about to fall though, the simian quickly came to his rescue. Yay! Or gay. The Mountain Protector had pulled him into a sideway hug while holding him by the waist, his other hand on his chest down his collarbones.
‘You good bud??’ He asked with worry, his heart beating faster than usual. He suddenly felt dizzy and didn’t even think about the fact that someone was touching him. His breathing sarted quickening, and the farmer helped him back up on the bed for him to lie back on to. If it wasn’t for how disgusting the sheets smelled, he was sure that he could’ve fallen asleep here anytime. Without the Mountain Protector by his side, of course. His headache was killing him now and his wings were hurting more than ever. He clutched at the farmer’s arm, once again noticing that he was shirtless(what a relevent observation). He pulled the other towards him and whispered the last few energy he had left.
‘the sheets smells like shit.’
That'll treat him, he thought. Macaque couldn’t see what the others face looked like though because he was slowly losing consciousness. Has he always been this weak? No matter. He was gonna get better. He was sure of it. His eyes were starting to black out, his vision getting smaller by the second. He groaned in annoyance at the thought of having to dream again.
With that last sentence, sleeping beauty fell back into a deep slumber. Caught between the smelly covers and the warm breeze of mother nature, he was quickly lulled back to sleep within a few minutes. His chest went up and down, his breathing becoming slower. It was a beautiful day outside, birds were singing, flowers were blooming. He knew he had seen this scene before, the déjà vu feeling sticking to his soul like never before. He knows that this event had occured, but it was a little different... Where or when, he knew not.