Chapter Text
Trust is a process. Wukong knows this.
Trust is a process, a long and winding road. It can take years to build to a significant amount. In his experience, it takes around fourteen years.
But Wukong doesn’t have that time. He doesn’t have years to establish that relationship with others, he doesn’t even have that opportunity at all, maybe… maybe he could have… if he hadn’t shattered what little trust there was into a million pieces.
He’s aware it’s his fault. He should have told MK from the start about his plans. Things would have been different had he communicated. They would have defeated the White Bone Spirit faster, the group’s home wouldn’t have been enveloped in a blinding light.
Yet fear held him back. His successor even with all the power he had gifted him is in fact mortal .
He can get hurt, die. Have his neck snapped, a blade through the heart, get crushed in a car accident, splatter, so many things.
Mortals are- everyone is fragile. Wukong knows this. And now that extends to him, his powers sapped, leaving him as that monkey from thousands of years ago. That monkey with no powers, no abilities but there are differences.
There is no bright smile present on his face, no twinkle in his eye, no confident attitude. He lost all that centuries ago. He’s lost too many things, too many people.
That’s why he had to lie to the kid. He couldn’t lose him too. How foolish he was. Why couldn’t he realize the second he flew off for “vacation” that he had lost him? He lost him to a trail of lies and half-baked truths, a nonchalant attitude meant to mask his care.
Now his successor doesn’t trust him, will barely go near him unless it’s for training or meals. They would have to be crammed into a room together for them to chat and even then it would be nothing but forced small talk.
The others didn’t trust him either. Xiaojiao was angered at both him and Xiaotian although she was more forgiving of Xiaotian after a long, long talk that was partly muffled by the door, citing how she of all people didn’t need protection.
Best friend privileges, he supposed.
He was, well, in the doghouse so to speak. Flashes of green, almost like electricity, surrounded her as she watched as he carefully interacted with his successor during their training. And he’s certain she attached a camera to him when they bumped into each other in the hallways a month back.
The flecks of green reminded him of Bai Longma in the rare moments where the dragon was enraged.
Bai Longma…
He attempted to shake any trace of his youngest brother from his mind. The way Longma preferred to keep to himself (something he never quite got until centuries later). How it might not have seemed he was paying attention when you ranted about your favorite subjects but would ask a question every once and awhile, adding nods during the conversation. How he insisted he was a prince and did not want to be called xiaolong while blushing and stomping his feet, cheeks puffed, secretly accepting the name.
Xiaojiao wasn’t him, although there were similarities, a passion to them, a spark. His chest constricted at the thought.
Anyway, next there was Tang. A familiar presence to his master, maybe if his special eyes remained, he could see-
He sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. Don’t think about that.
He was just a scholar and a fan, a rather annoying fan who had gotten all up in his face during Lunar New Year, rambling on about how excited he was to meet him.
Back then, it was exhausting but now he would have welcomed it, anything to minimize the crushing, devastating blow of the past few weeks. Sadly, the scholar’s enthusiasm had been replaced by a wariness, a caution, the glorified image of the Monkey King broken
Although it wasn’t as bad as the kids and there were moments he wanted to walk towards the king, get to know him before he was led away by Pigsy’s guiding hand followed by a warning to never get close.
“Be careful, Tang. Don’t get too close” Pigsy would say as if he was a feral animal trapped in a cage about to bite the next person who came near.
He couldn’t blame the pig’s protectiveness, not one bit but it made it so draining, so isolating on that ship. It felt as if he could barely breathe before receiving a cold stare that sent shivers up his spine. He knew the pig regarded Xiaotian as his son more than he did his employee, he understood that. If the situation was reversed, he would behave the exact same way.
That was the problem, their positions weren’t reversed. Pigsy wasn’t the wrong one in this situation, he was and he was paying the price for it.
It was what he deserved.
He was stupid, selfish, foolish. He deserved to be alone, hell, he was fucking used to it.
Why did master ever think he was worth it? Why did Guanyin think he was worth it? Why did his subjects, his friends, why did anyone who felt some sort of positive feeling towards him think he was worth it? He wasn’t.
He was a selfish bastard who had fallen back to his old ways. He only cared for himself. The others should have kicked him off the ship and taken the map for themselves, he didn’t deserve to be with them, he would hold them back.
But that would have been the easy route, huh? Not facing the consequences for his actions and finding a way back to his mountain so he could be alone for another five hundred years. He had time to adjust to that routine.
He deserved the scorn and the hatred, he would welcome it all with open arms even when his heart squeezed and grew heavy. They all had a right to hate him. The only one who didn’t hate his guts or listen to Pigsy was Sandy who he was sure was… no, he didn’t want to assume. There was no use getting his hopes up. His family was dead, he was certain of that, he was the only one alive.
They’re fucking dead, Wukong. Get that through your thick skull. They aren’t coming back.
He was stuck on a ship with strangers, not family members who would have happily run up to him with a hug, a resigned “big brother” followed by a neigh, teasing, loving words, or a small scolding that held no real venom to it.
He was alone as he fucking deserved. Just like now. Currently, he was on the balcony of the flying ship.
He had more moments to himself now that the others had chosen to let him be. In the beginning, they refused to let him out of their sight, commenting how they didn’t trust him as if he wasn’t the one who had given the key to defeat the White Bone Spirit.
He was kept under their watchful eye and could hardly make the slightest bit of movement. Every time he did, he was met by a growl. He couldn’t go anywhere without someone following him. He’s sure the only reason they let up was because Mei attached that camera to him. No matter.
The king pressed his head against the railing, the cool breeze running through his fur. He enjoyed how the air filled his lungs, making him able to breathe away from prying eyes. The wind whispered a melody into his ear and for a second, he was tempted to dance to it.
I’m safe. He thinks, allowing himself to fall into false comfort. How can he- how can they be safe with the White Bone Spirit and her minion on their tails?
Once she catches up to them, she’ll spew her poisonous words and twist their minds. She’ll remind him of his fall from great hero to a simple hazbin. She’s right, he is a hazbin, a fallen hero.
Although there would be those that point out he’s never been a hero and he would instantly agree.
After all, the only reason he changed was because of Tripitaka, and that had been well, rather forced at the start. If he had the choice back then, he would have flown far, far away back to his mountain to live in peace. If it wasn’t for the dragon’s convincing he would have never come back and wouldn’t have had that circlet wedged onto his head.
The circlet was painful, causing head-splitting headaches. He could have done without it, preferred it actually, unfortunately, it was considered necessary despite how much he despised the damn thing (where was that thing anyway? He wanted to break it in two). He was disobedient back then and needed to change and he thought he had done so.
The monkey wanted to cackle at that, obviously he hadn’t changed. Here he was, selfish, bitter, and broken. He hadn’t learnt a single thing. Master would be disappointed in him. He was already disappointed in himself.
Wherever his family was, wherever they were observing him, it was with gritted teeth, pronounced sighs and wrinkled noses. There was no way they were looking at the scene with a grin.
He could picture them conversing about the situation.
“That bad monkey, I wasted all that time on him and he turned out like this. All my efforts were in vain.”
“They weren’t in vain, master. We turned out perfectly fine.”
“Wujing’s right. We’re amazin’. He just turned out to be the bad one out of the batch. Shame you spent all that effort on him though.”
“I agree with my brothers. But we already knew he was useless from the start.”
Please, not now. I know you’re disappointed. I’m sorry. Just please, not now.
The king took in more breaths. In and out. In and out. You’re safe. You’re safe. They aren’t here to- they would never sa- You’re safe. You’re safe.
He shoved that scenario out of his mind and waggled his head for extra measure. For now, he’ll shut his eyes, try to enjoy himself, push that away and block out reality before he is inevitably pulled back in. The wind will carry his dark thoughts far far away, bringing in better, happy ones.
He forced himself to think of better times. A time where he used to swing from tree to tree with his monkeys, scour for flowers and fruit, live near the magnificent unicorns, the golden pheasants, so many beautiful creatures, and bathe in their favorite waterfall.
He recalled when there were more monkeys around than he could count. His subjects adored him and he in turn adored them. They called him grandpa and dad out of admiration and respect while he called them his children and grandchildren, treating them as if they were actually those.
The little ones would crawl onto his lap in the middle of a meeting and chant, “Grandpa! Grandpa! Tell us a story!” He would laugh, pause the discussion and begin a story. Monkeys would come into the room to listen, regardless if it was a particularly extravagant story or not. Even his advisors would sit criss-crossed in front of him, tails wagging and lips turned upwards.
They would lavish each other with presents and gifts, give each other all the affection in the world, functioning as a tight family unit rather than a king leading his subjects.
He loved them enough to seek immortality and fight Heaven itself. He would do anything for them.
Those were the good days.
He smiled, his tail swished from side to side as he allowed the memories to overtake him, ignoring how he could feel how drained his energy was. His chest rose and fell steadily. This was peace.
The king wasn’t how long he stayed out there, maybe it was minutes, maybe it was hours. He didn’t care, he was safe. He could pretend everything was fine.
At the moment, there was no White Bone Spirit, the kid didn’t hate him, the others didn’t hate him either, he was back on his mountain and his family was-
Everything was fine.
That was quickly ripped away as he heard a voice call his name. “Monkey King.” He shut his eyes and hoped it was his imagination. “Monkey King,” the voice repeated.
He opened his golden orbs and blinked to adjust. It felt as if he was seeing the world for the first time in ages. He looked at the kid who stood there with arms crossed, a brow raised, and a frown. “Yea, bud?"
“You’re supposed to train me today.” It came out as more of a demand than a reminder.
“Oh, right. Sorry, bud. Must have forgotten.” He stretched his shoulders. “I was just enjoying the wind.”
“Whatever,” he grunted.
The monkey bit his bottom lip, holding back a sigh. He mustered up a grin. “Alright, let’s go.” He placed a gentle hand on the kid’s back to lead him to the training area, the kid pulled his arm with a huff and stomped ahead. The king shook his head and followed.
He maintained a good distance behind him. Xiaotian’s head was partially in his arms, he grumbled about things the Monkey King would definitely not repeat to a child.
They reached the training area which contained wooden staffs propped against the wall. Wukong suggested, “Why don’t we do some stretches first?”
“Fine. Just stay on your side, Monkey King.”
Disregarding that, the king started his own exercise. Every once and awhile, his gaze would drift to the kid who refused to meet it. “Stop staring at me,” Xiaotian demanded.
“Sorry. You ready?”
“Yes.”
The king tossed a staff to him which the kid easily caught. He asked again, “Ready, bud?”
“Don’t call me bud. I told you not to call me that. Don’t forget that,” he commanded with a hiss. “But yea. I’m ready.
“Alright,” he replied and ignored the command. “Three…” They both gripped their staffs. “two… one!”
The kid lunged at the king, the way he was holding his weapon was incorrect. He held it high above his head with one hand as if trying to beat the king with it (which he’s positive was the intention).
Wukong wasn’t fazed and simply blocked it. Xiaotian attempted to jab him in the stomach which again he blocked. He kicked the kid hard in the knee, it sent him stumbling back and he landed on his butt. Xiaotian instantly propped himself and rushed towards him with the same stance.
The kid has a lot of anger because of me. It’s my fault. It’s always my fault.
He tried to disarm the kid but he responded by striking the monkey in the stomach. The monkey winced. “Calm down. I’m not the enemy.”
“This is training so I have to pretend you are,” he responded.
They both knew he just wanted to get revenge on the king. The training had become progressively more and more aggressive, this was the most aggressive it had been. There was one occasion, he received a black eye during their session, not that anyone cared. He was certain he heard praises from Pigsy and Xiaojiao about how he managed to get a good, clean hit on the king when he was refilling his ice pack.
“True but make sure not to injure me too bad or I won’t be able to help.”
“What help are you now?” He murmured. A sharp sting ran through Wukong at the murmur, hurting him more than the punch.
The weapons clashed. His successor threw punches and kicks in the middle, some which landed. “Ow! Be more gentle will you!”
“Shut up! We’re training!”
“Still-”
Before he could continue, Xiaotian reached to kick the back of the sage’s leg. The sage stepped backwards, his successor managed to hit his heel and he slipped.
He dropped on the ground, the kid loomed over him. The grip on his weapon turned his knuckles white, he snarled and was about to strike him when the king punted him too hard in the gut, sending him flying against the wall right where the staffs were. The kid received a huge bump on his head from the impact, he rubbed the spot and hissed at the injury. The wind was knocked out of him and he used his free hand to clutch his stomach.
Around him, the staffs collided to the ground with large thuds.
Wukong clasped a hand over his mouth and frantically apologized, “Sorry, bud!”
“DON’T ME CALL ME BUD,” they bellowed, their cheeks bright red in fury.
“Sorry! Let me help you.”
“I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP! NOT ANYMORE! I could have used it with the spirit but nooooo, you didn’t trust me enough.”
“Kid, it wasn’t that I didn’t trust you.”
“Yea, sure.” Tears pricked his eyes and he whimpered, “You wish someone else was your successor.”
Wukong processed the words. How could Xiaotian think he wanted another successor? He had chosen him out of the one billion people in China. He had chosen him. In that second, he wanted to smack himself. Another stupid question added to the list of ones he asked in his life. Of course, Xiaotian thought that. He was the idiot who had flown off without a word about his intentions.
“No, I don’t. I chose you for a reason.”
“What reason would that be? You only chose me so I could fail. There are better options.”
He was about to respond when he heard footsteps approaching at rapid speed and he counted down until someone inevitably burst down the door.
As he counted down to zero, Xiaojiao swung open the door. Her face was dark, those familiar emerald sparks were around her. “What did you do?”
“I accidentally launched him into the wall. I didn’t mean to,” he explained.
“Uh huh.” She hoisted her friend up, her gaze softening. “You okay, MK?”
“I’m fine, Mei,” he said as he rubbed the spot again.
“Okay. Good. I’ll take you to get some ice.”
“I’m fine.”
“We are getting you some ice. It’s not up for discussion.”
“Okay.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” The king questioned.
Mei cut him off with a glare. “What? Haven’t you hurt him enough? Stay the fuck away from him.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” he calmly explained again.
“Well, sorry if I don’t trust the person who hurt my best friend. Actually, I’m not sorry at all.” Then she left with her arm around MK’s shoulder.
The king’s tail and ears dropped, his shoulders slouched. He stared at the ground with a frown.
Wukong fiddled with his hands as he sat on the deck and admired the stars. After what transpired he needed a break. How could they think he would be so cruel as to want to purposefully hurt MK? The kid was aiming to attack him, not the other way around. All he did was defend himself.
They didn’t give him a chance.
He acknowledged they were angry and were reasonable in that. But how they reacted was off character for the usually happy pair. That’s what he deserved for lying to them.
He accepted it. He was horrible, selfish. You can’t be upset. Ignore the sting, ignore it, you deserve this. You broke Xiaotian.
Xiaotian broke like glass under the pressure of being his successor, of not being informed. He should have told him but his successor is fragile just as everyone is. Wukong forgot that people can break under actions and words just as much as they can break under accidents, injuries and attacks.
“I just wanted to be good enough… like you.” He recalled MK saying after the Macaque incident.
It must not have been easy to be under his teachings, of someone so great and powerful. He’s not great. The kid was good enough before he met the king.
He should have listened to that comment, focused on it and used methods to bolster his confidence. He did none of those things. Instead, he abandoned him when the kid needed him the most. What transpired so far was his fault, he understood the anger. They would accuse him of a million things before they fell to his lying tongue. They were smart like that.
They shouldn’t listen to him lest he break them again, lest he lie. You did this to yourself. There is no one else to blame. Your family thinks you deserve this. You didn’t protect them.
“Monkey King” came the gruff tone, his ear picked it up quickly and he spun around to glance at the pig.
“Yes?”
“It’s dinner. Ya better eat.”
“I will.” He stood himself up and followed the pig to the dining area.
“Thank you for cooking,” he thanked and bowed his head.
“Whatever.”
In the dining room, MK held an ice pack over the bump from training. Tang fretted over him. “Tang, I’m fine. It’s just a bump.”
“Still, you sure it’s fine?”
“Yea, Tangy. I made him take care of it.”
Pigsy’s blue orbs widened. “Kid, what happened? You okay?”
“I’m fine! I just got a bit hurt.”
“How?”
Xiaojiao growled. “Someone injured him while training.”
“It was an accident,” the Great Sage clarified. All of them, save Sandy, snarled despite the clarification.
“You hurt him?” Pigsy hissed. “When are you goin’ to stop hurtin’ him?”
“It was an accident,” he repeated. “I went rough on him during training. I didn’t mean to.”
“You still hurt him,” the pig growled. The pig held his spoon near his neck. “You hurt my boy.”
“You’re acting like he’s a little kid. He’s a grown adult.”
“I know he’s not a little kid but he’s my kid. You already hurt my boy once, I’m not lettin’ it happen again, accident or not.”
“Yea, Monkey King,” Xiaotian agreed.
Sandy started, “Guys…”
“Then don’t have me train with him or something."
“We won’t. This is the hundredth time you’ve injured him.”
“You’re exaggerating this but fine, I won’t train with him. You act as if… I won’t train him.”
“Guys…”
“Good. We’re only keepin’ you around so you can help when you’re useful. We don’t need you causing anymore problems.”
Wukong snatched the food from the table, his face scrunched up. He began to walk away. “Wait, Monkey King,” Sandy called. The king stormed off.
Tang placed a hand in front of the demon. “It’s okay, Sandy. Just leave him be. He hurt Xiaotian.” He ran a hand up on the other’s bicep with a charming grin. “We can hang out with each other.”
Sandy’s cheeks flushed. “I…” He glanced at the direction the king stormed off in. He knew he should leave the king be. “Okay… you guys have to stop treating him that way.”
The pig dismissed him, “Yea, that’s great, big guy.”
The sage slammed his bedroom door shut. You deserve this. He played with his food using his fork and ate a few pieces, his appetite wasn’t big. Having nothing to eat while trapped under a mountain will do that to you. He enjoyed Pigsy’s food despite his attitude yet he barely ate any of it on this trip. Probably because every talk left his stomach churning.
He dumped the food into the trash, covering it with a paper towel, placing the fork and plate aside. The king pressed his back against the wall after sitting on his bed. He covered himself with the blankets, negative thoughts going through his head. You should be alone. You should be alone. No one wants you. You’ve failed.
Droplets fell down his face and he forced himself to sleep. Just sleep. Just sleep.
Hues of blue clouded Wukong’s vision and shards of ice danced on his skin. He rubbed his arms to create friction to warm himself up, vapor came out of his mouth with each puff. Despite his instinct, he walked towards the light step by step. Uncertainty grew yet he kept going until glowing azure eyes stopped him in his tracks.
The eyes held judgment and hatred in them, he couldn’t see the face, just those eyes. He shuddered and backed away slowly. He felt something tickle his heel, he looked down to see fire on his feet. It was clearly normal fire seeing how it didn’t hurt him.
Smoke reached his nostrils and he lifted his chin to see the scene had shifted. Flower Fruit Mountain was burning. Millions of monkeys were running for their lives to escape the fire while others were attempting to put it down. His generals and marshals were guiding as many as they could.
One monkey tripped over a burnt corpse before getting up and running again. A mother held a child close to her chest, both sobbing as a tree blocked their way.
The king gasped and screamed, “NO!” He rushed towards them and tried to pick the tree up but his hands went right through.
“Where’s the king?!” General Ba asked. “He should be here! We need him!”
“I’m here,” he responded. “I’m here!” His words fell on deaf ears. Bodies continued to pile up, blackened and burnt. Cries and screams roared through the air. The king could only watch helplessly. “I’m here… why don’t they see me?”
The blue eyes caught his attention again, completely disappointed in his lack of action. A whisper sounded behind the king and mists of ice surrounded him, untouched by the flames. The White Bone Spirit appeared and taunted him, “Poor king. You can’t do a thing to help your subjects.”
“SHUT UP!” He punched in her direction and she dodged just like she did during New Years.
‘It’s a shame,” she continued. “You tried so much for the people you love but in the end, it wasn’t enough. Most of your people died because of your selfishness, same with your family. All of them died because you weren’t enough and that’s all you want, huh?” She cooed. “All you want is to be enough. Enough for the people you love, enough for every single person on this planet. You love to be needed even when you fail especially for that kid.”
The smell of blood reached his nose, he no longer smelled any smoke. Crimson pooled onto the ground near his successor’s head who had suddenly appeared. Xiaotian’s eyes fluttered, claw marks were on his chest and there was a large slice on his neck.
“KID!” He cradled the kid in his arms.
“Monkey King?”
Tears pooled down his cheeks. “I’m here, bud. Stay awake. I’ll help you.
“This all your fault,” he rasped out.
“Hu-huh?”
“This is all your fault, Monkey King. You got me killed.”
“I didn’t mean to! I’ll patch you up I promise!”
“Don’t,” he commanded. “I’d rather die than be your successor. You’ve done nothing but treat me like crap. You never let me on your plans…”
“I didn’t! Everything I’ve done so far was to protect you!”
“And how did that work out? You failed again like you… like you always do.” Xiaotian’s hand dropped to the ground, his eyes shut for the final time.
“Bud… bud… no… I’m sorry! Wake up! WAKE UP! PLEASE!”
The White Bone Spirit sauntered up to him with a smirk. “He’s dead because of you. I’ve almost ripped your memory away. There’s just one final piece.”
“YOU! YOU!” He was shaking with rage, he settled the kid’s body aside gently and stomped up to her with a barrage of punches, she dodged everytime. “YOU KILLED HIM!”
“No, you killed him,” she calmly answered. “You kill all those around you. Every single person you come into contact with dies. Your people, your family, your l-”
“SHUT UP!”
“Have fun in your prison, Sun Wukong.”
Suddenly, he was pushed down by an invisible form. “NO! NO! BUD!” A mountain dropped on him and he struggled against it. “MASTER, HELP ME! ANYONE… anyone help…”
The spirit cackled. “I’ve won. Checkmate.”
The king woke up with a jolt, sweat dripped down his face. He brought his knees up to his chest and sobbed, muffling his mouth to prevent himself from waking anybody up. He trembled as tears rolled down onto the blanket.
Everyone is fragile.