Work Text:
Pigsy has exactly three seconds of warning.
It's the face Tripitaka pulls when she sniffs the cup. Amused, he thinks to himself, that's the same face Locke used to make. Then, right on the heels of that thought: oh, shit.
"Tripitaka, wait," he barks, just as she drinks the potion.
His urgent command makes her choke. "Wh-what?" She splutters, coughing. Sandy pats her helpfully on the back.
"What's wrong?" Monkey says sharply, pulling his pin from his hair and looking around for whatever threat Pigsy has spotted.
Pigsy doesn't answer, watching Tripitaka carefully for any signs of a reaction. She seems fine, if trying to hack up a lung. Maybe he had it wrong. Not everyone liked the smell of hell-tear herbs; demons were just more sensitive to it.
"Are you alright?" He asks.
"Fine," she says with a cough. "You startled me, that's all." Another cough. "That stuff was awful, can I get some water?"
"You have passed the test," the witch-doctor says. "You may pass through the village."
"Finally," Monkey says. "Lets go."
"What about supplies?" Tripitaka says. "We should trade for - " A pause as she shook her head, like trying to clear it of cobwebs. "Trade for - " Sandy catches her as she sinks to the ground. "I don't feel right."
Monkey turns on the witch-doctor. "What the hell did you put in that cup?!"
"I told you." The witch-doctor is watching Tripitaka with a hard expression. "It identifies demons."
"You liar!" Monkey lunges at her, but the woman is faster than she looks, darting out the door. Pigsy hears her yelling for the town guard.
"Bar the door," he snaps at Monkey and Sandy. While they're doing that, he goes over to Tripitaka. "Look at me. Tripitaka, look at me."
He still doesn't quite believe it until she looks up blearily and he sees the tell-tale fiery red-gold glow starting behind her eyes. Human eyes didn't behave like that. And while gods' eyes could change colour, it usually meant a hit had managed to penetrate their heart. Demons were the only ones who could do it on command, and generally only in their first century of life.
Seven hells, this put a different spin on the story of her mother. She could be a wild-born - there was always a few where lost bloodlines crossed - but if she was the product of a maintained lineage, it might explain why her mother had never returned. Davari's kin didn’t let their human breeding stock just disappear...
"What's happening?" She slurs, and he belatedly recalls that this is not the time for wool-gathering.
"Nothing," he says. "Just a little complication. Close your eyes."
"What?"
"Close your eyes and keep them closed. I'll tell you when you can open them again." He heaves her up over his shoulder, taking a moment to pull the loose fabric of her vestments up into a makeshift hood over her face. Hell-tears being what they were, she'd forget very quickly she wasn't supposed to look.
Not that he thought Monkey or Sandy would hurt her or anything. He has complete faith that with a little adjustment period, they would be fine with this new development, and even if they weren't, they'd never go so far as to actually draw a weapon on Tripitaka.
(He casually scoops up his rake with his free hand, because faith is one thing, but a healthy dose of cynicism never hurts.)
"There's no other way out," Monkey growls, and kicks a pot. "I told you we shouldn't have come here."
"You're more right than you know," Pigsy tells him. Over his shoulder, Tripitaka mumbles something incomprehensible.
"There's a mob forming out there," Sandy says, peering through a crack in the door. "They don't look happy."
"How many?"
"A lot."
Monkey thinks for a moment and sticks his pin back in his hair. "Here, Pigsy give her to me. You guys distract them, I'll get her out of town, we'll meet up later."
It's a good plan. An excellent plan, really. In other circumstances, Pigsy would be impressed by Monkey's quick thinking.
"So you'll leave me and Sandy to fend for ourselves," he says to buy time.
Monkey rolls his eyes. "It's not you they want to murder."
"You sure about that? Because I've met mobs and they're pretty indiscriminate."
"Pigsy, I've seen you handle a dozen humans without sweating. Quit whining." Monkey snaps his fingers imperiously. "Give me the monk."
Pigsy doesn't move. "I can take her."
"And how are you going to get past the walls, huh? Who's the one with a magic cloud? Stop messing about." He reaches for Tripitaka and Pigsy steps back. Monkey frowns at him, annoyed and confused. "What?"
Someone bangs on the door.
"I know this is hard," the witch-doctor says from the other side. "You thought it was your friend. But we need to destroy the demon."
"Tripitaka is no demon," Sandy snarls through the door.
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yes!"
"Look at its eyes. The potion always exposes the corruption within."
"Go fuck yourself!" Pigsy explodes at the door.
"Look." Sandy said. "I have an easy way to settle this. You say a demon's eyes would be changed, right?"
A beat. "That's right."
"Well, if Tripitaka's eyes are normal, then will you agree that you made a mistake and let us all go?"
"Why would she react to the potion then?"
"You tell me," Monkey snarls, leaning over Sandy's shoulder. Sandy shoves him back.
"She might have had a bad reaction. Like how some people react to fish or nuts. It's unusual but not demonic."
Shit, Pigsy thinks. Shit, shit, and double shit with a cherry on top. Why did Sandy have to go and be reasonable?
"I have heard of such things," the witch-doctor says slowly. "If her eyes are normal - if - you may go free."
Monkey sighs in relief. "Good thinking, Sandy."
"It was a logical deduction," she shrugs. "Now all we have to do is show them and we can leave."
They turn to Pigsy, who doesn't move.
"That," he says carefully. "Is going to be a problem." Tripitaka is a dead weight over his shoulder, completely out for the count.
"What are you talking about?" Monkey says. Then, like he's about to laugh: "Wait, you think it's true?"
"It's not necessarily a bad thing," Pigsy says, watching Sandy. Monkey is impulsive but Sandy is fast. "I think we can safely conclude she's not on Davari's side."
"She's not a demon!" Monkey says, sounding annoyed he has to say it. "Just look at her eyes like the woman said."
Pigsy hesitates, and Sandy says in a voice of slow dawning horror: "...you've already looked." Always a pale woman, what little colour she has is rapidly draining from her face.
"Like I said, it's not necessarily a bad thing."
"This isn't funny!" Monkey bursts out. "It wasn't funny before and it's not funny now, and you're starting to get on my nerves!"
"Calm down," Pigsy says. "Don't get hysterical on me."
"I am not hysterical!"
Sandy has sunk to the ground. Her eyes have gone completely blank with shock, reminding Pigsy chillingly of their days in Pallawa. It's still preferable to Monkey, who is on the far side of denial and showing no sign of coming back any time soon.
"Look," Pigsy says. "Just look." He carefully sets the rake in easy reach and lays Tripitaka down on the table. She mumbles something incoherent, rubbing at her face.
"See," Monkey says triumphantly. "Her eyes are fine. You're just - "
Tripitaka's hand falls away and she opens her eyes a little. "Monkey?"
Monkey backs away from the table so quickly he thumps against the shelf, making its contents rattle.
"Remember," Pigsy says. "She's still the same person she was this morning. Who helped overthrow Davari and saved us from the Shaman. She's still her."
Monkey doesn't seem to hear. "Why would she - if she's one of - it doesn't make sense!"
Not for the first time, Pigsy wishes Sandy were a few centuries older, that Monkey hadn't slept all those years away inside that mountain. That he'd made some effort to tell them about what they’d missed, instead of avoiding painful subjects.
"I can't speak for her," he says as gently as he can. "But maybe she was as unhappy about things as we were."
There's a sudden crash from across the room as Sandy flings a pot at the wall. "No!" She screams, kicking another one to piece. "No, no, no!" Her fingers claw at the shelves, shoving jars to shatter on the floorboards, ripping parchment to shreds, and pounding on the wooden boards as she sobs.
Pigsy takes a look between them - Sandy's grief-fuelled rage and Monkey's sickened shock - and makes a decision.
"Monkey, take her." He scoops up Tripitaka, and shoves her into Monkey's arms. Monkey seems to take a moment to realise what's happening, fumbling to hold her.
"Wh-what?"
"Your plan was a good one. Get Tripitaka out of town. I'll distract them."
"What about Sandy?"
"I think she has some feelings to work out." Pigsy flicks a look at that ghastly shelf of trophies and admits: "I might have a few of my own."
"And then what? What are we supposed to do about - "
"One problem at a time, Monkey." Pigsy gives him a little shake to snap him out of it. "Those people out there are going to kill her. They're going to kill Tripitaka. Focus on that. Everything else can wait."
That seems to get through to Monkey. He shifts his arms, getting a better grip on Tripitaka, tucking her head against his shoulder. Pigsy walks over to Sandy, who's kneeling on the ground, looking lost.
"Have you known this whole time?" She says dully.
Pigsy decides not to answer. "This doesn't change anything, you know. It doesn't change anything she's done or how you feel about her, or the fact she needs our help now."
"Just leave me alone, Pigsy."
"Fine. If you decide you want to do something constructive, there's a mob that needs fighting. Otherwise stay here and mope for all I care."
Anger gleams deep in her eyes. Good. Anger might get her out of this funk in time to do something useful.
Pigsy scoops up his rake and heads to the door. "I'll buy you some time to call the cloud," he tells Monkey. "On three."
Monkey nods distractedly, murmuring something to Tripitaka, who looks only semi-conscious. Pigsy steadies his breathing and sets a hand on the latch.
“One… two….” He’s more relieved than he’ll ever admit when Sandy staggers to her feet to stand beside him, scythe at the ready. He yanks the latch up. "Three."