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It started with a sneeze.
Wukong and MK had been sparring. After all, the kid needed to learn and training was the best way to teach him. Wukong had quickly discovered that he quite enjoyed the company of the kid over. His successor was fun to be around, albeit he got to be too much sometimes. His personality clicked with his own and he was a fast learner. It made it easy to teach him things since he could essentially learn one small thing and then go right onto the next small thing. The bigger abilities (such as shrinking the staff or oneself) would have to be taught at a later time when he could be around for a few hours. It was difficult, after all.
MK wouldn’t mind, though. He loved training. He was a fanatic about it. Oftentimes he would randomly show up at Wukong’s place, twirling his staff eagerly with a grin so wide it looked like it hurt. And who was he to send him away? If he wanted to learn and train, it meant he cared about the responsibility he had. It meant he knew that he was going to have an important job one day. Even if he made some questionable decisions at times, Wukong had faith in him. One day, he would grow to become a great master. And, one day later than that, a great teacher. But for now, he was the pupil, and he had a long way to go.
For example, he had to stop winding back his blows and making it obvious where he was going to hit. It was exactly what he was doing at the moment, and Wukong had to correct him. “You’re doing it again.” He sighed, ducking out of the way of the staff. He straightened up, folding his arms as he hopped away a pace or two. “You gotta stop winding up your blows like that. It shows where you’re gonna swing and it gives the enemy time to dodge and plan a counter attack.” He explained, watching as MK twirled the staff in the air as he listened.
“Doesn’t that take power away from the blow?” MK stopped, raising an eyebrow as he planted the staff down. Wukong shook his head, lifting his feet off the ground to allow a cloud to prop himself up in the air. “No, no. C’mon, kid. It’s Monkey King’s staff! Winding back for blows and not winding back for blows does the same thing! It’s like if I flicked your forehead versus me pulling back, driving my hand forward, and then flicking your forehead.” He raised his hand into the air, flicking at nothing with a lazy grin.
“Oh I see- surprise attack!” MK picked the staff up, flinging himself through the air at Wukong. He sighed, letting the cloud melt away into nothing before he side-stepped. “You also gotta learn to not announce when you sneak atta-'' He didn’t know whether to feel joy or dismay when the kid didn’t wind up with his next blow. He wasn’t prepared for his staff to suddenly come swinging at his face, landing against his cheek with a harsh thud before he was sent flying towards the base of the nearby mountain.
He hit the stone with a crack, leaving a sizable indent. Any normal normal would’ve likely died from such a blow, but he wasn’t any normal. Heck- he wasn’t even mortal! But that didn’t stop MK from worrying. Not a second after the dust had cleared and Wukong had propped himself back up, the boy was there spewing gibberish apologies, waving his hands frantically. “I’m sorry Monkey King I didn’t mean to hit you that hard or hit you at all- are you okay? Is that going to bruise? Oh my god did I bruise Monkey King?!”
“Relax, kid!” Wukong raised his hands, smiling toothily. “You flatter me, but I’m fine. Promise.” He nodded, resting his hands on his hips. And that was when it happened. His nose began to itch and his eyes watered with tears. He scrunched up his face, his tail curling up slowly as he inhaled, throwing his head back slowly. He heard a concerned noise from MK before he lurched forward, shoving his face into his elbow as he sneezed. For a moment, MK just stared at him with a look between shock and worry. “...did you just sneeze?”
Wukong sniffed, licking his lips. He blinked a few times, looking at MK with a curious expression. “...yes?” He answered, tilting his head like a bird. “What’s the significance?” He brought his other sleeve to his face, wiping his nose against it with a huff. MK leaned forward, his eyes wide with some sort of curiosity that made Wukong’s fur stand up. “Are you allergic to dust?” He whispered.
Wukong snorted, pulling away from him with a snicker. “What? No!” He laughed, placing his hands back on his hips again. “It was probably just a sneeze. Maybe I got some dust in my nose, itched a little, and then a little thing called a sneeze happened.” He shrugged, glancing down at his dirtied clothes. He frowned, his ears twitching downward as he huffed out a little “oh.” That wouldn’t be fun to wash. He stared for a moment longer before looking up past MK, narrowing his eyes. “Well would you look at that… probably time for you to head back, huh?”
MK turned around, glancing at the setting sun. He looked back at Wukong, a pleading gleam in his eyes. “Awww… can I stay the night? Please?” He leaned forward on his toes, continuing before Wukong could respond. “I’ll clean your house and, uh… I’ll… train extra hard!” He nodded firmly. Wukong brushed some dirt off his clothes, sniffing again. “What's with the sudden sleepover?” He murmured, glancing back up at MK for a moment before going back to his clothes.
“I just… want to?” MK shrugged. Wukong snorted at that. He had a reason. He knew he did. But he wouldn’t press for an answer. As long as there were no ill intentions behind it, he supposed it would be fine. He sighed, shrugging. “I don’t see why not… but make sure you tell your friends so they don’t go worrying and come visit me. I don’t want more people who have a bone to pick with me than I already do.” He muttered, frowning at that last statement. He should probably take care of some of that, speaking of…
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” MK beamed, grabbing one of Wukong’s hands to shake furiously. The other pulled back, waving at him to calm down before ushering him to go on ahead. He would have to think about sleeping arrangements and a few other things. He might ask the kid later about why he was so eager to stay the night at his place. Maybe there was some construction going on outside his place and it was hard to sleep? Meh. For all he knew, the kid could just want a break from Pigsy.
By the time he got back to his place and they had sleeping arrangements, it was only around eight at night. Which brought up the question of when the kid was planning to conk out. He personally didn’t plan on sleeping until far later in the early hours. It was usually why they trained so late in the day. His schedule was behind. The kid probably got up before he did even if he went to bed later than he did. With that in mind, he really didn’t want to set a bad example. Heaving a sigh, he cleared his throat. “So what do you plan on doing? Just chatting?”
“Actually,” MK began, inhaling. Here comes his big explanation. “I was doing some thinking and I thought, hey, we haven’t done a lot of hanging out outside of training and I bet it would make training go by a lot faster if we had an established bond! And then I thought, wow MK, that is a brilliant idea! And… yeah no that’s it. Bonding.” He pushed his hands together, earning a chuckle from Wukong. “Bonding exercise, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, his tail-tip twitching in amusement.
“Exactly!”
“Or is this just some excuse to hang out with me and training is the cover up?”
“No comment.”
The two dissolved into snickers. It was… nice. Relaxing. Compared to all their other little hangouts, this one was simple. Training was always filled with a lot of physical work with not a lot of sitting and relaxing. Wukong didn’t leave his place much either, so it wasn’t like he showed up at MK’s to just hang out and chat with his successor… he was overcomplicating this. It was just a nice little hangout. He and MK had plenty of bonding time. He sighed, leaning back in the hammock he had strung up next to the couch (he had to argue with MK to get him to sleep on the couch).
“Y’know,” Wukong began, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m proud of you. Not to make this gushy or anything, but I am.” He paused for a moment, using his tail to push against the wall so that the hammock would rock. “You’ve improved a lot, bud. Not to mention how fast you’ve improved. It makes me feel less pressured to pressure you to be better… I know you care about this by how much effort you put into it. So I’m proud of you.” He pushed himself upright a bit, glancing over at MK… who was snickering.
His face flushed, his tail fluffing up as the fur bushed out. “What?!” He twisted in the hammock, rolling out of it clumsily with an offended look. MK snickered, wiping away a tear from his eye. “Nothing- nothing… I’ve never seen you get all serious like that before… well, not in a situation like this, anyways.” He shrugged. “You sure I didn’t hit you too hard? Maybe your head got a bit messed up.” He teased sarcastically, earning a heavy sigh from Wukong.
“You’re a handful, kid.”
___
MK woke up first. It wasn’t to the sound of Wukong shouting about something maniacally or some monkey walking over him. He woke up to an odd feeling. His eyes opened slowly, and for a moment he was confused. He wasn’t in his room, after all. It took a moment for everything to come back to him, leaving him going “oooh” and nodding to himself. He had spent the night at Wukong’s place. Speaking up, where was his mentor? He sat upright on the couch, brushing the blanket that he had draped over himself.
He had expected to be the first one out last night, but he hadn’t. It had been sometimes around ten when the chatter between the two died down. They had been watching some shoes that he couldn’t remember the name of when Wukong stopped responding, his tail swaying lifelessly from the hammock. After calling his name a few times, MK had opted to stand to check if the other was fine. He had been rather surprised at the sight of the other sleeping soundlessly, but he hadn’t made any move to wake him. He had shut the TV off and gone to bed himself.
Is he still asleep? He stood up, running a hand through his hair as his jaw gaped in a yawn. He carefully tip-toed over to the hammock, peering into it curiously. To his surprise, Wukong was still fast asleep, curled into a tight little ball. He inched himself away, looking around the room for a few more moments. Leaving before he woke up would be rude, wouldn’t it? But waking him up would also be rude, wouldn’t it? “Guess I’ll just sit it out.” He announced to himself, plopping down on the couch. “In the meantime, I’ll just continue our show…”
And he did that… for the next three hours. At some point, MK grew tired. He stood up, heaving a sigh as he crept over to the hammock. “Sorry Monkey King.” He whispered, grabbing the edge of the hammock… and shaking it like a mad man. “Monkey King, wake up! Demon Bull King is attacking!” His tactic probably wasn’t the best way to get the other to wake, but it worked. Wukong’s eyes startled open and he shot upright, swinging his head around wildly. “Where?!” He demanded, his tail lashing from where it dangled from the hammock. After a moment of sheepish silence, MK cleared his throat and murmured a soft “I just said that to get you up.”
“Oh.” Wukong nodded, adjusting his shirt with a sniff. MK raised an eyebrow at that, but made no other comment. He pulled away, grabbing the blanket he had used to fold up. “I was just gonna tell you that I’m heading out soon.” He explained, grabbing the corners of the blanket and folding them together. Wukong hopped down, stretching with a yawn. “Oh… you… could’ve just left.” He murmured around the yawn. “I wouldn’t have cared.” He shrugged, blinking slowly at MK as he set the folded blanket down.
“I just thought I should tell you.” MK responded, walking around the couch to grab his staff and shoes. Wukong shook himself, as if cold, before waving a hand carelessly at MK. “You’ve got important things to do, bud. Just… head on out whenever you want. Heck- if something pops up during training, I’m not gonna stop you from leaving.” And he wouldn’t. He had chosen MK as his successor, and that did require training. However, MK also had a life outside of training. And Wukong respected that.
“Oh… well, thanks for letting me stay Monkey King! Bye!” MK darted out the door, not giving Wukong time to respond. For a moment, he stood there smiling awkwardly and waving at the door. After confirming that MK was long gone, his stance faltered and he hunched over. He exhaled a heavy sigh, throwing himself down onto the couch face first. He was still tired, but in a different way. Normally when he’s just tired, it doesn't feel like this. When he becomes tired, it’s an odd feeling up dry eyes and a warm feeling running through his body. But this was different. He felt cold. His body felt heavy and moving sent odd shocks of cold running through his veins. Maybe the kid did hit me a little hard…
Sore. That was his thought. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he vaguely registered that these were similar symptoms to when someone got sick. But he brushed that thought aside. He couldn’t get sick. Was not possible. He was immortal! If he got sick, then… then pigs would fly! He sighed, picking his face up from the couch to look at the clock on the wall. It was ten in the morning, so around when he usually got up, if not a little before. Maybe the feeling would go away by the time MK came back for training? He hoped it would. He didn’t have any plans on calling it off. With that thought, he let his face fall back onto the cushion with a sigh.
Now the waiting game.
How much time had passed before his phone buzzed was irrelevant. He opened his eyes slowly, grimacing as a full-body shiver wracked his body. The feeling hadn’t gone away. No- it had gotten worse. He groaned, pushing himself upright while his tail scrabbled lazily at the nearby table. Once it wrapped around his phone, he yawned, cleared his throat, and answered. “Hello?” If sounds could kill, my voice would be a wanted murderer. He winced at the sound, wincing furthermore when MK’s voice sounded.
“Hey Monkey King! Sorry to cancel on you all of the sudden, but something popped up and I can’t make it to training tonight!” He rushed out. Wukong brought a hand up to his neck, tilting his head as he scratched at it lazily. “No, no…’s fine kid. We can have a rest day and continue tomorrow.” That sounded… nice. A rest day… “Are you doing alright?” MK murmured after a moment, and Wukong snorted. “I’m great, kid! Why? Still worried you hit me too hard?” He teased, snickering at himself. His grin dropped when MK’s voice sounded again, equally as worried as before. “You don’t sound well is all.”
“Losing my voice.” Wukong leapt to an excuse, spitting out the first one that came to mind. Not bad. But MK didn’t seem to buy it. “Right… well uh… I’ll call in later to check on you, okay?” This kid is gonna be the end of me. The concern he was showing was admirable, but Wukong had to brush it off. He sighed, slowly nodding his head. “Alright… but I’m telling you, bud. I’m fine. Tomorrow, you and I are gonna go hiking and I’ll show you! Remember, I’m immortal! Nothing bad is gonna happen to me.”
___
MK knew something was wrong when Wukong didn’t answer his call later. What he did not expect to stumble upon when he arrived later at Wukong’s was the sight of the other dozing on the couch, a blanket wrapped around him so tightly it looked like it could suffocate him. Only his nose and a little around his eyes was visible, seeing as the blanket was also around his head like a hood. His tail was the only other part of his body that MK could see, twitching from side-to-side as he inhaled and exhaled. Maybe he’s meditating. MK eyed the other, creeping around the other side of the couch.
That’s when he noticed the scrunched up face that Wukong was wearing. MK frowned before tentatively reaching his hand forward towards the other forehead, not quite close enough to touch however. He grimaced at the feeling of heat radiating from his skin despite the fact that MK wasn’t even touching his forehead. He’s sick. I didn’t think Monkey King could get sick. That was certainly something. He cleared his throat, shaking his head. He had a new mission now, other than training. Help Monkey King feel better! …He hasn’t a clue what to do.
“Uhh… Monkey King?” MK carefully grabbed the other’s shoulder, shaking him back and forth a little. Wukong let out a huff, his tail lashing once against the couch as he burrowed down further into the blanket. “No- c’mon… get up? Wakey wakey eggs and bakey?” He slapped himself internally, trying to pull the blanket off the other. “Stop.” The sleepy, yet also serious, voice from Wukong made MK jolt and scramble backwards. “Monkey King!” He sputtered as the other slowly poked his head out from the blanket. His fur was a mess, his eyes glossy and unfocused. “What’re you don’ here? Thought something popped up.”
“You’re sick.” MK deadpanned, narrowing his eyes. “Immortals don’t get sick, kid.” Wukong retorted evenly, keeping his tone smooth and even. Despite this, however, MK could hear the wobble in his voice. He scoffed, folding his arms. “You’re setting a bad example. What if I get sick some day and don’t get help?” He raised an eyebrow. Wukong pulled the blanket down from his shoulders, shimmying out of it slowly (more so struggling to fight his way out of it). “Then your friends can take care of you.” He muttered, tugging his foot out of the blanket’s hold with a grunt. MK stared at him for a few more moments before sighing, beckoning for the other to follow him as he began to walk towards the door. “C’mere. We’re going to Pigsy’s.”
“What? Kid, I’m fine!” Wukong shook his head, smiling nervously. “Seriously! I just need some rest, a few peaches, and maybe a marathon of that show we were watching. After that, I’ll be in tip-top shape!” He nodded firmly, his tail swaying lazily across the ground rather than above it. MK raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “I’m not stupid, Monkey King. You’re coming with me because you’re sick!” He grabbed ahold of the other’s wrist, tugging him out the door with little to no struggle. Definitely sick. That or he was still tired. Probably a combination of both. No one could just tug Wukong along wherever they wanted without a struggle. And while Wukong was struggling, none of his efforts worked.
“Kid you’re killing me here.” He groaned, stumbling after MK with a less than impressed look. His gaze drifted to where the other had hold of his wrist, and it must’ve suddenly registered that the kid was grabbing him. His tail struck forward, wrapping around MK’s wrist and squeezing. The pressure was enough to make the muscles in MK’s hand move involuntarily, releasing Wukong. “Hey-” MK began, faltering at the distant look in the other’s eyes as he stared at his wrist. “Don’t…” Wukong’s chest heaved, a stuttering breath leaving him. “I’ll follow you.” He murmured, his tail coiling around his left leg.
MK nodded, turning to continue to lead the way. He was glad he brought Pigsy’s truck up. But he was curious about that interaction. Why had he suddenly jumped at that? He brushed it aside, focusing rather on leading the other to the truck and driving back. Normally he would drive recklessly without much care, but seeing how hazy Wukong looked, he decided to take a more slow and controlled approach on the road back. “I don’t think you’ve ever met with my friend’s personally, so here’s a run down.” MK began.
“Pigsy is the pig chef guy. He’s also my boss and owns a pretty sweet noodle restaurant. Tang is… our free-loading friend! He’s the guy with glasses. Hard core Monkey King fan, so he might freak if he sees you. Mei is the girl. She has black hair with some neon green highlights. Very extroverted. Hard to miss. Oh! And Sandy was over when I headed out here, so I’m assuming he’s still there. He’s the big blue guy with the wicked facial hair… uh… That’s about it! Store should be closed so no customers are around to see you and yeah!”
MK looked over to where Wukong was slumped, his eyes half-lidded. He doubted the other had heard a word he just said, but he didn’t bother to explain any further. It seemed Wukong was starting to give into the fact that maybe something was wrong. That or he was just tired. Still, it did nothing to ease his nerves. MK’s lips tightened as he flashed a quick glance back at Wukong. The other was sliding down in his seat further and further. At this rate, he’d be resting on the floor. He cleared his throat, looking back at the wrong. “Monkey King? You okay?” When he got no response, he turned to look back at the other and felt his heart jump into his throat. Because Wukong was tilting towards where no door was, becoming dangerously close to just falling out.
MK didn’t slam on the brakes, but he did ease off the gas as one arm shot out to grab onto Wukong’s scarf. His body jerked lifelessly as MK pulled him back into the car, essentially propped the other up on his shoulder. “Monkey King? Are- hey! Monkey King?!” Alarm ripped through his body as Wukong bonelessly slid off his shoulder into his lap, unmoving. He could barely see the rise and fall of his torso as he breathed. That or the rocking of the car was giving him the illusion that the other was still breathing. That simple thought left him to slam on the gas. He had to get to Pigsy’s now.
He had already texted Mei about the situation, so it was of no surprise to him when he wheeled around a corner to see her standing outside. When she caught sight, she stuck her head back into the shop and reemerged with Pigsy, Tang, and Sandy hot on her heels. MK swerved to a stop, the vehicle’s wheels screeching as the rear end swerved around to a stop. He pulled the keys out frantically, scrabbling desperately at Wukong to get the other to move. Seeing him flopping around lifelessly was enough to make his eyes sting with tears. “Monkey King?!”
Pigsy clambered into the car, hooking his hands onto Wukong’s shoulders and pulling him upright against his chest. Wukong’s head lolled at the action. “Tang! Get some ice! Sandy! Get somewhere comfortable prepared!” Pigsy shouted out, awkwardly clambering out of the car with Wukong held in his arms. MK was at his side the moment the other was on the ground, eyes wild with panic. “Is he okay? He isn’t dying, right? Right?” He choked out a whisper, his words dying away when Pigsy didn’t respond. He followed him inside, keeping close to his mentor even after Pigsy had laid him down on the couch that Sandy had prepared.
Tang emerged from the kitchen a moment later, carrying an ice pack wrapped in a towel. “I’ve got ice!” His reaction to seeing the Monkey King wasn’t anything how MK expected. He hadn’t really expected them to meet his way either, however. He was personally planning to introduce Wukong another time under much calmer circumstances. Tang would’ve probably exploded on the spot, spitting out random facts he knew and quoting the other. But right now, he was far from behaving like that. His eyes held a serious glint to them as he handed the ice pack to Pigsy, who then transferred it to Wukong’s forehead.
“What do we do now?” MK asked, learning forward. He wanted to do everything and anything he could to help. But Pigsy simply shook his head. “Nothing much. Until he wakes up, I’m not sure doing anything would help… MK, he’s not a normal person. He’s immortal, right? You and Tang talk about that a lot. He could have a different immune system for all I know.” He shrugged, and MK’s face fell. “So… sit and wait…” He murmured, frowning. The nod Pigsy gave him was enough to make his shoulders slouch. “Don’t worry, kid. I’m sure he’ll bounce back.” Pigsy tried to reassure, but it didn’t seem to do much.
MK didn’t watch the clock after he sat down next to Wukong. He didn’t check his phone or ask anyone for what time it was. He sat and watched Wukong, not allowing his gaze to drift away for a moment. He felt the others drift by every now and then, a few reassuring murmurs lingering in the air as they passed. But he didn’t respond. He stared, unblinking, at the unmoving form of his mentor. It was… eerie. He’d seen the other injure himself before. There’d been a time when he had extended the staff and it had launched itself square into the center of the other’s face. He’d looked at MK, laughing while a stream of blood drizzled from his nose past his lips.
And he knew he had endured worse than that. He had fought Demon Bull King, after all. He’d probably been thrown into a mountain or two. And even with that in mind, it did nothing to settle his nerves. His skin felt like it was crawling as he watched. In the time that had passed (about two hours), he had taken a few notes. One of them was the fact that when Wukong wasn’t awake, his tail moved around. A lot. The first few times it had flicked, MK had grown hopeful that the other was stirring. But a few more times after that he recognized it as a simple trait. It would slide left and right across the couch, sometimes sliding off the edge and brushing against the floor before recoiling as if the touch burned. At some point in time, it had lashed around so violently that MK had grabbed it… and it had simply wrapped around his hand, as if holding it.
Another thing he noticed was that Wukong talked in his sleep… or unconsciousness? He wasn’t sure if this was the other sleeping or being unconscious. It could very well be the fact that the other might’ve been having a fever dream. But every sentence and word he spoke was gibberish. It was too distorted for him to decipher. The sentences had grown clearer by now, however. He would hear his name be whispered sometimes, a rasp in the word before he’d fall silent again. Then, a few more moments later, he would mutter something else. It could’ve been about peaches, Demon Bull King, or maybe the staff. Sometimes he would say something random, and it would be spoken so clearly that MK thought he was awake.
The last thing he noted was Wukong’s breathing pattern. When he was awake, his breaths were even and paced. Even if the other had done something tedious that would’ve left MK out of breath, he spoke and breathed evenly. He never sounded out of breath. But right now, where he was laying, his breathing wasn’t paced. His breathing wasn’t even. It was stuttery, hitching a few times here and there. Sometimes he would stop to hold his breath, which would alarm MK until he released and breathed again. Every inhale and exhale would make a faint rattling sound from his chest, as if something was in his lungs. It was unnerving. Even now when his breath hitched and two glossy, unfocused eyes opened-
“Monkey King!” MK leapt to his feet, dropping down on his knees next to the couch with wide eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked a second after he had dropped down. Pigsy appeared around the corner, waving his hands. “Give him a second there, kid. The guy needs a minute to reboot.” He warned carefully as Sandy and Tang appeared. MK looked at Pigsy, opening his mouth to retort when Wukong rasped a weak “kid?” His gaze swiveled back to the other, and he nodded. “I’m here, Monkey King. Is something wrong? Do you need anything?” He tilted his head, leaning forward. The other stared for a second, eyes distant and unseeing before they narrowed.
“What did you do to the kid.”
“...what?” MK froze as the tail suddenly darted forward, wrapping around his throat in a suffocating way. Pigsy leapt forward, grabbing at the tail and attempting to unwrap it. “What did you do to the kid!” Wukong repeated in a slurred snarl, his eyes half-lidded. MK churned his legs, sputtering out a little “monkey king!” Tang moved next, opting to back up rather than move forward to help. Sandy, however, was clearly upset. He grabbed Wukong, wrapping around the other. Before MK could warn him, a bright glow lit the room and Sandy was practically flung into a wall. “What did you do… MK?” His voice faltered as he sat up, blinking a few times.
“Let go of the kid!” Pigsy demanded, trying with no success to get the tail off MK’s throat. Thankfully, he could still breathe around it. It wasn’t easy however. Wukong stared for a moment before baring his teeth. “You hurt him, didn’t you?” He hissed, eyes narrowing icily at Pigsy. Pigsy’s mouth opened and closed, taken aback by the sudden accusation. He drew his tail back, keeping MK in his hold before throwing the other into Pigsy. The two crashed to the ground, rolling for a moment before slowing to a stop. Wukong struggled to his feet, rasping heaving breaths as he blinked slowly. “‘M comin’ MK…” He whispered, taking a trembling step off the couch.
That was when Tang darted forward. MK prepared a warning cry for the other, but he moved too fast. His hand collided sharply against Wukong’s neck. He was going for a pressure point. And while it would’ve worked against anyone else, Wukong did not falter. He did, however, pause before slowly turning to look at Tang with a venomous glare. His tail was moving through the air before anyone could breath, throwing the other straight into a recovering Sandy. He landed with an “oof” against Sandy, who brushed him off quickly. They had to knock him down. They had to stop him.
“Sandy! You know what to do!” Pigsy called to the other, who gave a firm nod. He vanished into the kitchen a moment later, leaving Pigsy and MK. “MK, we gotta hold him still..” Pigsy hissed, darting forward. Wukong avoided the lunge, turning to send the other flying until MK landed on his back. “I’m sorry Monkey King!” The boy cried, wrapping his legs around Wukong’s arms and his arms around his eyes. Wukong stumbled backwards, thrashing in his hold. “No! The- MK!” He screeched, stumbling into a wall. Pigsy took advantage of the loss of sight, going for his legs. With a crash, he and MK tumbled into the ground.
And then Wukong let out a shriek. It was animalistic. It was pure, unfiltered terror. “Kid!” The shrill voice stabbed at MK’s heart, a terror of his own flooding his veins. Judging by the pale look on Pigsy’s face, he was feeling the same way. But the moment only lasted a second, as Wukong started to struggle once again. “I’m gonna save him!” He spat, tail slapping against the floor so violently that MK feared it would break it. Pigsy grunted, grabbing the tail with one hand while keeping a hold on Wukong’s legs with his other. “Hurry up, Sandy!” He shouted as Wukong threw his head around, jostling MK.
“I’ve got it!” Sandy announced, emerging again with a small cylinder-like object. A needle. MK registered in his mind, but not just any needle. A syringe. “I’m sorry, Monkey King.” He apologized, kneeling down next to the other. One of his huge hands grabbed Wukong’s arms, holding it still while the rest of his body spasmed. Inhuman noises sounded in the back of his throat, somewhere between a growl and a whimper. A moment later, Sandy pressed the syringe into the arm, and whatever liquid was in the syringe (likely a sedative) was injected. Wukong tensed before the thrashing increased. Sandy released his hold, pulling the syringe out. The sudden increase in struggle managed to throw MK and Pigsy off, but the damage had already been done.
“No… kid…” Wukong rasped, struggling to heave himself upright. His body shook as he pulled himself forward towards the door, head bobbing. “I’m sorry…” He rasped out, slumping to the ground with a choked sob. MK crawled over to him, his hands shaking to the point where it hurt. “Monkey King…” He whispered, faltering at the sign of tears. After a moment of shocked silence, the others moved. Sandy scooped Wukong’s body into his arms, moving to transfer him back onto the couch. Tang carefully walked over, grasping one of his shoulders with a grimace. “What was that about?” He hissed, more in pain than angry.
“I don’t… I don’t know.” MK shook his head, frowning. “He sounded like he was freaking out about you… probably feverish.” Pigsy rested a hand on his shoulder, and MK pulled away. “He… he sounded scared.” He whispered, staring hollowly at said Monkey King. “He probably was.” Pigsy murmured, sighing as he patted MK’s shoulder. “C’mon… It's late. We can check on him tomorrow morning, yeah?” He tilted his head, offering a weak smile. MK swallowed, slowly standing up with a hesitant nod. “Yeah… okay.” And he hoped to whatever Gods were listening that Wukong was better. He wasn’t sure he could handle another freak out like that.
___
“What the fuck?!”
MK launched himself down the stairs when Pigsy’s screech split the morning air. He was half expecting to find the place a mess and Wukong missing, but he was rather surprised by the sight of Wukong… sitting and eating a bowl of peaches casually. The panic swelling inside him died away, his mouth slowly opening to whisper out a confused “what.” Wukong glanced up from his bowl, chewing around a peach with a grin. “Morning kid!” He said around the peach (although it sounded around “morfin id’), waving at him lazily.
“...weren’t you just sick and dying yesterday?” MK managed to say. “Sick? He was ballistic!” Pigsy spat, pointing at Wukong. “Tang has a bruise the size of a tennis ball on his shoulder! Same with Sandy except it's his whole back!” He shook his head wildly. Wukong cleared his throat, swallowing as he tilted his head. “Oh.. I.. uh, sorry?” He shrugged, grinning nervously. MK waved Pigsy away, walking over to Wukong. “Are you okay?” He murmured once Pigsy was out of ear shot, frowning. Wukong swallowed the peach he had, tilting his head like a bird. “I’m doing great, kid.” He shrugged, popping another peach into his mouth.
“You didn’t sound okay last night.” MK muttered, sitting down next to Wukong. Wukong chewed for a few moments before swallowing, clearing his throat. “Eh… yeah… about that.” He paused, looking down. His ears swiveled down, his eyes flashing with an emotion that MK couldn’t decipher. “Can we… not talk about that?” He whispered after a moment, and MK recognized the emotion. Shame. He nodded vigorously, leaning forward. “Yeah… Yeah I won’t talk about it.” He reassured the other. “But can you promise me something?” He continued shortly after. Wukong looked at him, nodding.
“Can you get rid of the clone and come out.”
For a second, Wukong stared at him. Then, he heaved a sigh and he disappeared in a puff. Not a second later, Wukong emerged from behind the kitchen counter, looking disheveled (albeit he did look better than yesterday). “So… clone act wasn’t a very good cover up, huh?” He smiled weakly, dragging himself over to the couch. MK fixed him with an unamused look, crossing his arms. “I already told you this. I’m not as gullible as people think.” He watched Wukong sit down on the couch, sinking into it with a shaky exhale. “Are you actually okay?” He asked again, hesitant this time. Wukong inhaled and exhaled, looking straight ahead. He laughed weakly, a shaky smile forming on his lips. “Not really.”
A stab of pity lanced through MK, sharp and painful. He reached a hand towards the other, as if to pat his shoulder, before pulling back and remembering how the other reacted to him simply holding his wrist. Maybe that was why he had struggled so violently last night? Wukong swallowed, inhaling and exhaling sharply. His breathing had picked up pace, an unnerved look fogging over his eyes. “It uh… I really… I don't wanna talk about it, kid. The last few words came out rushed and tight, as if he was out of breath. Or as if his throat was closing in on itself. MK winced at his words, preparing himself for what came next. “Can I… hug you?”
Wukong looked at MK, his expression falling for a second. Then, after a second, he nodded shakily. That was all the initiative MK needed. He practically flung himself at Wukong, wrapping his arms around the other tightly. He could hear the rattling in his lungs clearly now, but he could also hear the beating of his heart. It was picking up speed, hammering in his chest. He heard and felt the other inhale sharply before exhaling a broken breath mixed with a sob. He bowed his head into MK’s hair, and he could feel the tears in the other’s eyes. He didn’t mind, though. He simply tightened his hug.
“If you ever need help, don’t feel afraid to ask.”
“...Alright kid.”