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Save him.
Wukong has felt fear before. He’s felt that horrible, gut-wrenching tug in his gut that makes his fur stand on end. He’s felt the blood-chilling pull that makes his tail subconsciously wrap around his leg. And he’s felt pain before. He’s felt pain that makes his body feel like it's on fire. He’s felt pain that makes his body feel like it’s about to explode. That unsettling prickling beneath his skin and fur that makes him writhe and arch his back, letting out howls and shrieks that leave him panting and heaving. But never has he ever felt so much pain and fear before than he has right now.
When his eyes landed on MK, the only thought that he managed to think was save him. Even with exhaustion weighing down on his bones and pulling his body downwards, he knew he had to get down there. It's all a blur of sparks of pain that flare up in his body, making his vision white out and his ears ring. He has to grin and grit his teeth to manage to stand upright without visibly showing the struggle. It must work. It has to work. No one seems to show any reaction or worry.
But he feels it. The chest-crushing pressure is suffocating. Even when he is up in the air swaying unsteady on a quickly vanishing cloud, the feeling remains. But so does the pain and fear. His tail is lashing behind him, brushing against MK’s trembling body. I’m sorry. He thinks, and he is. He himself is trembling so violently that he can’t hide it. The feeling of the cloud is fading out from underneath him. Panic blossoms in his chest, fresh and wild. But then a ship appears, and he beelines for it.
MK’s panicked breaths even out for a moment, but Wukong’s do not. The cloud is gone before they are within a safe distance of the ship. MK’s hold on Wukong tightens, a shriek so loud that it makes his head spin coming from him. Grunting, he outstretched a hand as they lurched towards the ship. Hot, fiery pain courses through it once he makes contact, scrabbling to heave himself and MK upwards. His tail is wrapped so tightly around MK that he’s afraid he’ll crush the boy.
Multiple figures appear overhead, but he can’t process their faces. He sees colors; pink, blue, orange, green, and black. He trembles, head tilting backwards bonelessly for a second before a hand grabs his wrist. Pain snaps him back to reality, and his head swings forward as he grimaces, growling out a grunt. It must not be heard over the roaring of the engine, and he’s thankful for that. He lets himself hang there as he is heaved upwards. But the moment they are on the ship, his tail is being forcefully unwrapped from MK and he is being shoved aside.
I’m sorry. His feet slide unsteadily across the ship. The staggering steps he takes to create distance between himself and the group aren’t enough. He isn’t enough. A rasping wheeze dies in his throat as he tilts. A cloud manages to form itself under him, swooping up against his chest to push him upright. Pain spirals through his head, coiling down his spine and spreading through his veins like wildfire. It hurts it hurts it hurts ithurtsithurts- And it does. It hurts.
“Monkey King?”
Don’t look at me. He tries to whisper. He really does, but the words won’t crawl up his dry throat. He swings his head around blearily, blinking furiously to clear his vision. The blotches remain fuzzy, but become more focused. He can make out expressions now. Angry, sad, and worried. Imsorryimsorry. His shoulders tremble, bouncing up and down as he smiles. Be there for him. Be there for him you useless excuse of a-
“What’s up bud?” God it hurts help me- He tilts his head, but it's more so the sudden lack of support his neck can offer. He offers a weak grin, blinking slowly. His tail is laying limp on the deck. His body is shaking. Why am I shaking? Stop. Stop shaking. “What the hell was that?!” The pink figure - a pig? - surges forward, teeth bared and eyes wild with rage. Multiple pairs of eyes widen at the outburst. MK opens his mouth to speak, but the other continues. “You left MK all alone to deal with that!”
painpainpainpain. Wukong swallows dryly. Words won’t form. He can’t think. He can’t even process what has just been said to him. His ears are ringing, a shrill noise that keeps getting louder and louder. It’s too much. “Pigsy,” a figure with glasses, steps forward, resting a hand hesitantly on the other’s - Piggy’s - shoulder. “I think you need to calm down.” His words are tight, spoken with caution and a tense edge to them. Pigsy shoulders his hand off, shaking his head violently. “No Tang! He needs to explain himself!”
“Enough!” The giant blue figure erupts, his voice a growl. Wukong’s head spins, and he stumbles. He winced, willing himself to pass out. To fall asleep. Anything. A moment later, the blue figure continues in a gentler tone. “I think we should give Monkey King a chance to explain himself.” And if that doesn’t set Pigsy off, Wukong doesn’t know what will. He starts forward at Wukong, pointing a finger accusingly. “MK could’ve died, Sandy! He doesn’t get a chance to explain himself!”
“Pigsy calm down!” MK moves forward, attempting to stop the other’s advance on Wukong. His attempts are futile, however. The other simply brushes past him, eyes blazing. His finger jabs into Wukong’s chest, his nose in Wukong’s face as he snarls, “While you were away on vacation, MK was risking his life! What do you have to say for yourself? Huh? Answer me!” It’s too loud.
Hands grab at Pigsy, pulling him back. Wukong stumbles, tail slapping at the ground feebly to try and help him keep balance. A wave of darkness is rising from the back of his vision, and he can’t suppress the full body spasm that wracks him. MK’s eyes light up with renewed worry. His head tilts as he takes a hesitant step towards the other, reaching a hand tentatively towards Wukong. “Monkey King? Are… you alright?” The question falls on deaf ears. Wukong loses a grip on what is happening. And suddenly, his legs buckle.
A pair of arms frantically grapple at him. He can feel himself pressing up against someone’s chest as he leans forward, and then he is slowly being lowered to the ground. He lets his head hang for a moment, eyes fluttering as he struggles to draw in breaths. Don’t look at me. Please. He trembles more, slumping further to the ground. “”M sorry…” He whispers, his voice wobbling as it breaks. Tears sting his eyes, and he can’t be bothered to hide it. “I didn’t mean to, MK. I’m sorry…”
And then there’s nothing. And for an amount of time he can’t determine, he floats in that nothingness. And it’s relieving. He isn’t aware of time or anything around him. He isn’t aware of what happens to him or his friends. Or MK, for that matter. But in that moment, all he wanted was this nothingness. That feeling of pain and fear drifting away. The horrible body-shaking trembles are gone. All of it washed away in a matter of seconds by a darkness that encased him like a warm blanket. But nothing good lasts forever.
“Monkey King?”
The darkness shatters, and everything rushes back to him. Pain, albeit muffled and tingly, as well as that lingering fear that something was wrong. He twitches his tail first, curling his fingers slowly next. He inhales, smelling, then exhales before he forces his eyes to open. The first beam of light that hits his eyes makes him grimace and squeeze his eyes shut, his tail coiling up into a ball. After a moment, however, he opens his eyes again slowly. And he takes in the room around him.
It’s a small, messy room. Posters are messily hung all over the walls. Some loose wires or strings are dangling from the ceiling, swinging rhythmically to the ship. And he’s in bed. A soft bed. Settled over top blankets and pillows with a blanket draped over his body… his body that has bandages. He can’t see them yet, but he can feel them clinging to his fur and skin. It makes his skin crawl, but he knows it's for his own good. “Monkey King?”
His gaze drifts to his right slowly, landing on the sight of a disheveled MK. For a split second, they stare at each other. And Wukong can see the worry in his eyes. So he draws one of his hands out from under the blanket slowly - painfully - and gives a lazy wave. “Hey kid.” He croaks out, giving the other a weak smile. MK stares for a moment longer before he’s throwing himself at the other. Pain briefly shocks through his chest and ribs, making him tense before he relaxes. He’s hugging him.
“Woah, there… uh… easy…” He swallowed, clearing his throat as he awkwardly, and slowly, wrapped his arms around the other. “Thought you died.” MK mumbles from against his chest, and Wukong lets out a pained laugh. “Me? Die? Not happening any time soon, kid. I’m immortal!” Now that his mind isn’t clouded with pain, he can think. He can process that he needs to seem okay for MK. He looks up to him, after all. But the scoff from the doorway makes him falter.
“You aren’t looking so immortal right now.”
“Mei!” MK pulls back, swinging around to look at the girl. She shoves a strand of black hair with a twinge of neon out of her face, clearing her throat. “I’ll go tell the others you're up… they want to talk.” MK falters, and Wukong simply nods. With that, she’s gone, and MK turns around with a crestfallen look. “I think she’s mad at you.” He whispers as if she is secretly listening. He tilts his head, snorting. “I wouldn’t be surprised… listen, kid-”
“You don’t have to apologize.” MK interrupts him, sitting down on the end of the bed. He looks away and Wukong feels a stab of guilt. I should’ve been there for him. For everyone. He could’ve prevented this, after all. After a moment, MK looks back. “You… you just dropped. I mean- what am I supposed to do when your immortal hero collapses on you whispering that he’s sorry!” He throws his hands out, looking down with a sniffle. “I thought you were dying!
“Hey, hey,” Wukong leaned forward, waving a hand at the other to tone it down. “I’m alright.. I wasn’t… I didn’t want you to see me like that.” It’s not the truth, but it's not a lie. MK looks at him, his bottom lip trembling in a way that makes Wukong’s heart ache. “Why… where were you?” He whispers in a broken voice. For a second, he isn’t sure how to respond. His gaze drifts down to his lap and his hands fall to settle on his knee. “I… I’ll explain.” His attempt to reassure doesn’t seem to do anything. He opens his mouth to continue, but he gets cut off by four people entering the room. Including a seething Pigsy.
“Oh you’ll explain alright."