Archive of Our Own

The first time he ever noticed that burning sensation was shortly after he began to train MK. Seeing as the other was just getting started using the staff and understanding how to use it in combat, he expected mistakes. And there were plenty of mistakes that needed to be fixed. For one, the kid moved in a lazy way that made him look overconfident. That led to his attacks being lousy and often missing. Not only that, but his center of balance was practically nonexistent. He once asked the boy to hop on one foot while spinning the staff overhead and had fallen to the ground laughing when the staff came to whack him, knocking MK down. It was amusing, but he had to fix it.

Not to mention the kid had no experience fighting whatsoever. He seemed to think it was just swinging and making loud grunts and yells whenever he attacked. Wukong had scolded him plenty of times, since it was wrong and it also annoyed him. He had given so many talks about how the kid had to get a technique to his attacks. He was fast and seemed to have a good control of the staff when just standing in spinning, so he assumed a good tactic would be for the kid to be a fast attacker (essentially meaning his moves would come right after one another and give the opponent no time to defend or attack). But he had a long way to go before he could even dream of landing a blow on anyone the way he was then.

It hadn’t been anything particular when it happened. Wukong had been standing off to the side, watching the kid rotate on his heels to pivot while swinging. They were working on his sense of balance, and they’d improved quite a bit from when he first started. He had his stumbles and slip ups every now and then, but he was getting good. Not to mention he didn’t accidentally hit his head anymore. Wukong hadn’t really been paying attention when it actually happened. He had zoned out, focused on something distant when the kid yelped. His gaze swiveled back over to the kid who stumbled straight into his chest, sending them both crashing to the ground.

Blank.

He didn’t properly register it at first. The sudden feeling of warmth against his own body. Warmth that came from someone other than himself or the monkeys. He blinked dazedly a few times before it burned. He had quickly scrambled out from beneath MK, brushing off behavior off as him not wanting to get his clothes dirty. It seemed to work, since MK had just shrugged it off with a lazy smile before returning to his practice. But he hesitated, staring hollowly at the ground as static filled his ears. It had burned.. why had it burned?

It didn’t happen again any time after that for quite awhile. In fact, the next time it happened was when he got sick. The memory was a smudge of a blur that he couldn’t quite recall, but he remembered his wrist burning before he tugged it away from MK’s grasp. His tail had lashed behind him, distressed, before coiling around his leg. The hold was not hard. The hold was not tight. He had been loosely pulling Wukong along to his car. And then, the other had ripped his hand out of his grasp, his chest heaving as his breath stuttered.

Encounters like that afterwards were limited. When he lost sleep, he remembered a horrible, agonizing white pain overcoming him when Sandy had to hold him down. He didn’t know why it hurt, or if it even hurt. It could have just been his mind playing tricks on him, but he didn’t care to test it out. He didn’t want it to. But after that, there were few encounters that left him burning and wincing. Hating the feeling and sometimes chasing it at the same time. The only other pieces of contact after that were small. Shoulder brushes, maybe a shoulder bump and a kick against his leg every now and then. It was nothing serious.

And then, he went on that trip. He had gone to find that map, and he regretted it. It created more distance between him and the group. And he hadn’t slept or eaten in days. It left him exhausted and weary. Even after he had saved (basically fled) MK from the Lady Demon Bone and crashed onto Sandy’s ship, he hadn’t allowed himself to falter. Not when they yelled at him and demanded for answers. Not when Pigsy got in his face, shouting curses at him for leaving MK behind. And the look in the kid’s eyes hurt. It was betrayal. It was hope. It was painful. It was defeat. They lost. Even with the map, success wasn’t a given reward. They had to get to the places first, after all.

And Sandy’s flying aircraft was slow. Painfully slow. He had recognized that moments after explaining his plan. Hours after retreating from the battle. It irritated him, but he didn’t complain. This was the best thing they had, and they’d work with it. Even if Wukong disliked it. That didn’t mean the place didn’t have its upsides, however. There were plenty of isolated spots, and Wukong was yearning for one. After the others had retreated inside the cabin with the plan set out, Wukong slumped where he stood. He had brushed off any attempts at wrapping bandages around his raw, bloodied skin. The places where his fur was missing revealed angry pink skin with red dots. He had leapt away from Mei when she tried to grab something out of his hair, flailing his hands in surprise.

He was tired. But he couldn’t sleep. He turned around slowly, looking towards the sky that stretched out in front of them. It was night. The moon was up and the stars were twinkling overhead. He hesitantly dragged himself over to the edge of the craft, settling down and crossing his legs. He slouched forward, resting his hands in his lap as he stared up wistfully at the sky. He… He was lost. He didn’t know what to do. All he had was a map and a plan that he had tried to do on his own but failed miserably at. His tail flicked next to him, wrapping around his body.

He hated the feeling. The feeling that weighed down his bones and eye-lids. The feeling that made his eyes burn. The feeling that allowed fatigue to creep through his body slowly, taking over everywhere it could until he submitted to sleep. But he couldn’t. Not now. He had to plan. He heaved a heavy sigh, looking down at the clouds and terrain below. Without his magic, he wasn’t able to summon a cloud to catch him if he fell. And suddenly, the fear of falling became much more real than before. He inched backwards away from the edge, leaning back so that he was sprawled out on the deck. And he just stared up at the sky, tracking the moon and stars.

It wasn’t until a shadow fell over him that he blinked out of his daze. He grimaced, looking away from the pale blue sky overhead (wasn’t it just night?). His gaze drifted over to Pigsy. He was glaring down at him, a spiteful look gleaming in his eyes. Wukong blinked slowly up at him. When the other didn’t say anything, he slowly tilted his head. “...yes?” He muttered, narrowing his eyes. Pigsy snorted, shaking his head slowly. “‘Yes’ he says. Hilarious,” he frowned. “We’ll need to make pit stops along the way to make sure we aren’t getting tracked. That and so we can refuel and get supplies. So maybe don’t look like you’re homeless.”

Arrogance burned in his chest, but died down quicker than he could use it. He sat upright slowly, his body stiff. Pain lanced through his joints and across his skin. He grimaced, bringing a hand to an exposed piece on his forearm. Pigsy’s face lit up with a sudden concern. He leaned down, reaching a hand forward and grabbing Wukong’s shoulder. He crouched down besides the other, inspecting the injury with narrowed eyes. But he hadn’t processed that. His gaze soloed in on Pigsy’s hand. The spot burned, but in a warm, welcoming way. The pain was still there, just not as bad. He blinked slowly a few times, shaking his head to keep his eyes from sliding shut.

“You gotta get a bandage on that.” Pigsy finally muttered, using Wukong’s shoulder to push himself up. It took every part of the monkey to not chase the contact. He sighed, slowly pushing himself to his shaking feet as well. “I’ll make sure to do that.” He muttered. He didn’t intend to do that. He shuffled past Pigsy, his tail dragging limply on the deck behind him. He felt Pigsy’s eyes staring at him as he walked, so he sped up his walking pace. He opened the door to the cabin and slid in, shutting it so violently behind him that he flinched. He pressed his back to the door, breathing heavily for a moment before relaxing. No one was in the room he was in. There was a hallway leading off somewhere, however, and he could hear voices.

MK. He had to apologize to him. He would. He did plan on doing that. He carefully shuffled towards the hallway, leaning on it for support as he slowly made his way down it. He could hear the voices getting louder, now. Eventually the hallway opened up to a room that smelt like… noodles? A kitchen, he assumed. He peered in nervously, his tail twitching behind him at the sight of Mei and MK sat at a table, talking as if nothing was wrong. His fur bristled slightly as he pressed himself closer to the wall. Tang and Sandy were there too, both focused on a counter with their backs turned to him. If he was quick enough, he could dart by and claim a room.

“Keep moving, buddy!”

Wukong stumbled as Pigsy shoved him forward from behind, just barely managing to keep himself from face-planting on the hard wood beneath his feet. He held his breath as the chatter came to a stop. MK’s gaze slid over to him, and his eyes flashed with an unreadable emotion. Wukong looked away, straightening up. “Sandy, I can take over again. Get monkey c monkey do over here a room.” Pigsy muttered, throwing a thumb over his shoulder at Wukong as he moved into the kitchen. As he altered in, Sandy altered out. “Follow me.” He murmured softly, setting a hand on Wukong’s back to guide him forward.

His mind blanked again as Sandy moved forward, his hand following him. Wukong’s feet would not cooperate, however. Static rang in his ears again, and he hardly registered the startled noise that came from Sandy as he tilted forward, landing flat on his face. His ears rang for a moment and he allowed himself to close his eyes, relishing in the darkness until he was pulled upright. He blinked a few times, looking at Sandy with owlish eyes. “Are you alright? Did I shove you?” Sandy murmured. Wukong could feel more than just Sandy’s eyes on him, so he laughed. “Psh- nah. Just tripped over myself.” All part of the act. Charismatic and charming.

Sandy nodded, although he seemed unconvinced. Eventually, he led him down the hall to a room. He opened the door and flicked the light on, clearing his throat. “This one is smaller than the rest, but it’ll do for now. If you need anything, feel free to ask me.” With a warm smile and a thumbs up, Sandy dismissed himself. Leaving Wukong alone. He slowly shut the door, pressing his back to it before sliding down onto the ground. He tilted his head back, letting it thump against the door as he heaved a sigh.

What was wrong with him? He carefully crossed one arm over his chest, grasping his shoulder with a frown. The feeling didn’t wash over him when he did it. Why did it happen when the others did? He let out a low groan, forcing himself to stand up. The room was small, yes, but it had a bed, a drawer, and a little mirror. He carefully moved over to stand in front of the mirror, frowning at the hollow shell that stared back at him. He looked tired- he felt tired. His clothes were raggedy and ripped. His fur was ruffled and messy, some places darker and burnt while others were a natural color. He grimaced, looking at the wound on his arm that Pigsy had been inspecting earlier. He was sure more of them could be found beneath his clothes, but he wasn’t planning on looking for every little scratch. For the time being, he did make himself look a bit more presentable.

The room must’ve been prepared for him last night. A pair of clothes was folded neatly on the bed. He swapped them out for his current clothes gladly, then turned to focus on his hair. Cleaning it was quite easy, actually. However, the parts of it where the color had faded and where singed strands of hair lay would have to heal on their own. He blinked at himself, and the reflection blinked back at him slowly. He looked.. Better. Dark bags still hung under his eyes, however. He didn’t look healthy. But he couldn’t really do anything to make that better immediately.

This’ll have to do for now.

MK ended up being the one who put the bandages on. Pigsy caught onto the fact that Wukong hadn’t put any one when the other flinched and grimaced practically anytime he moved or breathed. After a brief inspection, he had sent him and the kid off to get that taken care of. Which left them in a horrible silence. Every move MK made to wrap a bandage around his arm or torso made him stiffen. His skin crawled beneath the bandages, alight with fiery, tingling pain. He had to restrain himself from pulling away, clenching his jaw and holding onto the bed. And even after MK had wrapped the injuries, the feeling did not fade.

He writhed uncomfortably under the bandages before giving up, forcing himself to go back out onto the deck. They were landing in a clearing near the edge of a forest. Not a refuel stop judging by the lack of any civilization nearby. Once they had landed, however, almost everyone got off the ship. He lingered on the deck, however, his tail twitching behind him nervously. He had to force himself to walk off the deck onto level ground, wavering unsteadily the entire way down. He was exhausted. It didn’t help that the only real meals he had were a long time ago. He was functioning mostly on snacks, but even that wasn’t a lot of food. Not for him.

For a while, he just walked along the edge of the ship. The others had wandered off to go explore. He hadn’t wanted to do that, however. The field they were in was large. Tall, waving grass was all he could see aside from a few hills and the forest right next to the ship. He found a small patch near the base of the ship and sat down, grabbing a piece of the tall grass and playing with it. It was nice outside without the ship rumbling. For the past two days, that was all he had listened to. A constant roar and rumble. But now, it was quiet. It was relaxing. He could almost close his eyes…

He blinked, startling upright. The piece of grass he had been playing with was long gone, likely blown away by the breeze. He looked around slowly before heaving a sigh. It didn’t seem like the others had returned yet… He shook his head, grunting as he pushed himself onto his feet. He boarded back onto the ship, looking down at his feet while he walked. That was until he saw the shadow on the ship. He paused, looking up and pausing at the sight of Tang. He was looking back at the other with a surprised look. One that Wukong returned. After a moment, the man with glasses cleared his throat. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“What?” Wukong snorted. “Nah. I was checking out the area.” He shrugged. Tang tilted his head, pointing towards the field. “You were sitting out there with your eyes closed. You were either sleeping or meditating. That or just… sitting there… with your eyes closed… for no reason…” He shrugged. Wukong frowned, brushing it off. “Just thinking… When will the others be back?” He tilted his head, and Tang heaved a sigh. “I don’t know. Pigsy found a hot spring so he and Sandy have been pretty entertained. MK and Mei ran off to do something, and you and I are here. I wouldn’t be surprised if we stayed the night.”

“Are we staying the night?” Wukong turned around as MK and Mei appeared, boarding the ship with eager grins. “No, I didn’t say that. I said I wouldn’t be surprised if that's what we did.” Tang corrected. Wukong shook his head, clicking his tongue as he made his way back to the edge of the ship. He sat down and propped himself up against the solid wall railing, drawing his tail neatly around himself. “I’ll wait for them, I guess.” He shrugged. MK looked over at him before marching over, sitting down next to him. “Yeah, me too!” He announced indignantly. Wukong snorted, his chest warming a little. Maybe the kid wasn’t too upset with him?

“Well I’m going back to the hot spring.” Mei turned, waving at the three. “We’ll be back before sundown! Don’t do anything too wild!” She called, skipping off. Tang heaved a sigh, shaking his head slowly. He looked over at the two with a confused look before throwing up his hands. “I’m going to my room. Call me when they get back.” He called over his shoulder. Neither gave a sound of acknowledgement. Rather, they got comfortable. MK possibly got a little too comfortable. Maybe two hours had passed by the time that Wukong felt the tingling burn of heat against his arm. He looked down at MK and stalled for a moment to see the other propped up against him, head lolling and eyes closed. Sleeping.

...well shit. He was really stuck now. He inhaled and exhaled carefully, doing his best to not disturb MK. He didn’t know how heavy of a sleeper he was. For all he knew, MK would wake up if he breathed wrong. Despite that, however, he found himself with the urge to inch away. Yet, at the same time, he yearned for more contact. He inhaled and exhaled again, slowly tilting his head. MK’s head was propped up on his shoulder, so he decided to… carefully rest his head against his successor’s. He pulled away at first, stiffening before slowly easing his head to prop against MK’s again. It was… nice. He could smell the cinnamon shampoo he used. Not to mention his hair was soft. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself relax. He could do that… relax.

He must’ve fallen asleep, because he woke up to MK’s head moving out from under his own. He didn’t bother opening his eyes. He let his head loll down bonelessly. It felt good to not be tense. Sure, his neck throbbed with each passing second, but this was the first time he had gotten to relax in… in forever. But the moment was disrupted by a hand jostling him gently, a whisper of his name ghosting his ears. He blinked his eyes open slowly, registering that it was now dark out. Huh… he was out for a while. He glanced up blearily at an equally tired MK. “They’re back…” The younger one explained, and Wukong mustered a nod. Tired.

He carefully stood up, MK standing there with his hands outstretched as if he expected Wukong to collapse. Thankfully for him and the monkey king himself, that didn’t happen. The two slowly made their way towards the cabin, dragging their feet as yawns plagued them. Exhaustion made it particularly difficult. This was nothing like the time when nightmares haunted Wukong’s every dream. That exhaustion had been a mental kind. This was physical in every aspect. When they got inside the ship, it became clear the others were in the kitchen. So, of course, the two made their way there. The smell of noodles hit Wukong like a train. His mouth watered, but his stomach churned at the thought of food. Rather, he and MK sat down silently, resting their heads on the table.

“Good evening you two. How was your beauty sleep?” Pigsy teased, and MK whined out a groan. “You guys took forever at the ho tspring…” He complained. Wukong hummed his agreement. He folded his arms, tilting his head so that his cheek rested against his forearm. It was more comfortable than the table. He closed his eyes again, choosing to listen to the others. Talking seemed too difficult at the time. He breathed in and out, his tail twitching behind him. The kitchen was warm, and the conversation between Pigsy, MK, and Sandy was a nice background noise. He let himself sink down into his chair, slouching further-

“Are you sleeping again?” Tang’s voice made Wukong’s eyes snap open. He startled, looking at the other with half-lidded eyes. Pigsy turned around, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean again? Guy can take naps, can’t he?” His attention shifted back to the stove top. Wukong hummed his agreement, but Tang scoffed. “You’ve had, like, three naps today. How much sleep are you getting?” He muttered, sitting down across from him. When Wukong didn’t respond, Tang reached out and grabbed his forearm, shaking him a little.

Wukong pulled away slowly, murmuring a slur of incoherent gibberish. Sandy turned around, his gaze landing on the slumped Monkey King. “Monkey King? Can I help you to your room?” He murmured. Wukong sat there silently for a moment before sighing. He nodded, raising his bobbing head slowly. He rotated, swinging his legs out from underneath the table and setting them on the ground. He used the table to help him stand up, and immediate regret washed over him as quickly as vertigo did. His legs buckled beneath him and he took a swan-dive for the floor. If it wasn’t for MK grabbing his hoodie and Sandy grabbing his forearm, he would’ve face planted. That thought didn’t seem to register in his mind.

He blinked slowly, letting his head hang for a moment before slowly, and shakily, getting his feet beneath himself. “I got it, I got it…” He whispered, blinking slowly… and… then he was in Sandy’s arms. He blinked again, dazedly, and again. His body tingled in Sandy’s hold. He couldn’t think in the moment, so nothing stopped him from leaning into his hold with a soft exhale. He heard a hum of surprise from the other, but it was brushed off. Nothing mattered anymore the moment sleep washed over him, willingly or not.

It wasn’t brought up.

Wukong had uttered his apologies to MK after he had woken up, but the other brushed it off. He honestly didn’t seem to care less. He had also made sure to apologize to MK. He assumed he had startled the other, but he had actually… laughed? “It was kind of funny watching you just take a swan dive” is what he had snickered while Wukong stared in silent dismay and embarrassment. But it was almost completely brushed off other than that. He used the excuse of being “jet-lagged” despite the fact that he knew the reason. He just couldn’t get himself to explain it. Not after last time.

Their next pit stop was another random field, though this one was more secluded. Tall trees surrounded the ship on all sides. On the way down, Wukong had noted a nearby river and waterfall. So far he hadn’t seen any hot springs. Luck was on their side so far. He heaved a tired sigh as the group departed from the ship, following after at a delayed pace. Even with the extra sleep he had, he was still tired. Once again, he decided to linger at the base of the ship. Sandy remained with him, settling down beside him once he had found a comfortable spot.

“...are you scared of physical contact?”

“What? No.”

The question caught Wukong off guard. He laughed it off, of course, unease prickling at him. He noticed. He must’ve, anyways. There was no way he couldn’t. Sandy hummed thoughtfully, reaching his hand out tentatively. “May I?” He murmured. Wukong looked at his hand, then back at the other’s face before giving a hesitant nod. Sandy rotated, moving to sit criss-cross behind Wukong. A moment later, he started picking little things out of his hair. Wukong stilled for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “...are…” He trailed off, melting into the contact with a shudder. Honestly, he couldn’t tell if he enjoyed or hated physical contact anymore. He just wanted it.

Sandy didn’t respond to the comment, continuing to pick through his hair while humming a tune. Wukong let himself relax as he gazed around at the scenery. He hadn’t had someone groom his hair since… he frowned at the memory, shaking it away with a huff. Sandy faltered for a moment, as if assuming the huff was directed at him, before continuing with Wukong said nothing. He was respectful. He was a kind man, and Wukong quite enjoyed his presence. It was reassuring in more ways than one. Not only was he kind, but he had an even-temper and unmatched patience. He was nice to have around when you had someone like Pigsy.

“You’re falling asleep on me.” Sandy murmured all of the sudden, and Wukong startled, blinking his eyes open (when had they shut?). “Sorry.” He murmured quickly, and Sandy gave a warning hum. “You don’t need to apologize… if you still require rest, feel free to do so.” His words were kind. They carried good intentions. But Wukong was uneasy now. He didn’t let himself doze for the next three hours they spent there. He didn’t speak up when the prickling of his skin became too much to the point he started shifting and writhing uncomfortably under the contact. But when Sandy had pulled his hand away, his head had followed, still seeking that warm touch. It was confusing, but he didn’t have time to think about it.

The group was back in the sky shortly after again. Wukong was glad Sandy didn’t make any comment about it. But more questions came and went. More people would make contact with him, and pain and panic would seize him. He tried to hide it, he really did. But one did, it just didn’t work. He had begun to take to pacing the deck in his spare time during the trip, his tail lashing in thought. He said it was just him growing restless despite the many stops they made along the way. That didn’t shake his nerves, however. It was just another lie to keep up his charismatic act.

“Monkey King.”

It was difficult to function as of late. Not to mention the fact that he was still tired. He still hadn’t eaten much either. That alongside the built up stress was starting to take its toll. He would often find himself dozing in spots he wouldn’t normally. He had even started dozing off while standing one time, only to be woken by a worried MK. He had tried to reassure the kid, but his exhaustion was really making it difficult. Difficult to think. Difficult to do anything.

“Monkey King.”

And for all he knew, he was leading them all into some big death trap. His tail thumped against the deck and he tensed up, his ears swiveling around. It wasn’t a death trap. It couldn’t be. They needed this weapon to defeat her. They had to get it. They had to. He shivered, wrapping his trembling hands around himself in some effort of giving himself a hug. It didn’t work much, however. It was a feeble attempt at the illusion of comfort he had received.

“Monkey King!”

He startled, pulling away from the sudden feeling of a hand on his shoulder. His gaze darted around feverishly, stopping to land on Mei. She stared at him, fixated with an unamused look. “I’ve been calling your name for like… three minutes. What is up with you?” She muttered, though there wasn’t much sting to her question. She hadn’t intended it that way. She almost seemed genuinely curious. Or worried. He laughed, shaking his head. “Nothing, nothing. I’m fine.” He murmured, looking down at his feet as he shifted uncomfortably.

“Right… Well, we’re having lunch soon if you want to come inside.” She raised an eyebrow at him, and he nodded. “I’ll be there in a second.” He waved her off, smiling. “Don’t be too long! Pigsy doesn’t like when people come late!” Mei warned, turning to walk back inside. Wukong stared after her for a moment too long before turning, going back to his pacing. Maybe going for this weapon with the others wasn’t a great idea. The fact that he was basically powerless and MK didn’t have a staff offered no reassurances. If something happened along the way, he’d have to rely on physical strength (which didn’t feel too reliable).

He groaned, grabbing his hair and tugging a little. It was infuriating. He was a mess and he couldn’t solve his problems without worrying about another. He knew he could talk to them about it, but every time he thought about it, his throat closed in on itself. Talking was more difficult than it should’ve been. Sleeping was more difficult than it should’ve been. Just functioning like a normal, breathing person was more difficult than it should’ve been. His hands fell to his side and he breathed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. He would figure it out… one day. He just had to breathe.

“Are you coming inside?” MK’s voice made him startle. Not only that, but the sudden feeling of a hand on his shoulder. He pulled away sharply, whirling around with a grunt and sliding into a defensive stance. MK slid into one as well, his eyes lightning up. “Oh, are we training? We haven’t done that in a while!” He hopped up and down, grinning widely. Wukong’s face fell and he blinked, straightening up “What? Oh- no. No, sorry kid. Just… snuck up on me.” He shrugged. MK frowned, his shoulder slumping as he tilted his head back in a whine. “Aw man…”

“Maybe next time we stop, yeah?” Wukong shrugged, and MK straightened up so fast that it looked like he got whiplash. He seemed pleased with the temporary fix, so Wukong continued. “So why are you out here?” He murmured, and MK made an ‘oh’ shape with his mouth. “Ohh yeah, yeah- Pigsy sent me out here to get you.” He reached forward to grab Wukong’s wrist, turning to walk towards the cabin. “He wants you to join us to… eat.”

He paused, turning around when he realized he hadn’t grabbed his mentor’s wrist. Wukong had his arms folded lazily behind his head. He walked past MK with a shrug, his tail brushing against the deck. “Well c’mon then.” He murmured. MK hadn’t seen the way he recoiled with fear flashing in his eyes. He hadn’t seen the hesitant, contorted look on his face that looked like it was a battle between dismay and longing. He planned to keep it that way. MK didn’t need to know. He didn’t need to worry. The kid had enough on his plate already, and he didn’t want to add anything else.

It got worse.

Wukong felt like he was going crazy. He spent his nights restlessly writhing in his bed, clawing at his clothes and the blankets. He couldn’t sleep. It never washed over him no matter how much he wanted it to. Every day felt like it moved by in blurs of motion, slowly drawing by yet going so fast he couldn’t remember them. He didn’t remember the last time he talked to someone when he was aware of it. He was just so… so tired.

But he as well as everyone else found out something… mildly amusing one day. It was another day of floating aimlessly through the sky. Most of them were lounging on or around the couch with the only exception being Sandy, who was piloting the ship. MK and Mei had claimed the couch while Pigsy and Tang had opted to sit on chairs in front of it, chattering with the two kids. Wukong was sitting on the ground in front of MK, fiddling around with a piece of paper. He had to do something to entertain himself, and he supposed origami was one. He wasn’t very good at it, but he was learning.

It had really happened out of nowhere when it did. Wukong had simply been folding a corner of the paper tightly against an indent. He had been struggling to do so for the past five minutes or so. And when he did, MK did something that caught him off guard. He suddenly reached forward, ruffling Wukong’s hair with a laugh. “Glad you finally got to that corner. Looked like you were struggling.” He paused before sitting upright, tsking. “Ah, your hair is all knotted… Monkey King-” He broke off with a sigh, shaking his head. And he started to work through the little messes and knots.

Wukong honestly didn’t even feel it happening. None of them saw any sign of it either. It’d been so sudden that it honestly startled then. One minute Wukong was sitting there, his tail twitching with a look of undisguised shock on his face. And the next? He took a nosedive forward, the folded paper forgotten in his hands. MK lurched forward, yelping out a shocked cry as he wrapped his arms around Wukong’s chest, pulling him close to his own body that was practically over the edge of the couch.

“Is he okay? What happened- is he breathing?” MK sputtered, not moving an inch. After a moment of the three staring at him with wide, surprised eyes, Mei tilted her head. “Uh… no… I think he’s just… sleeping.” She said awkwardly, raising an eyebrow. MK blanked, his lips tightening into a line. He carefully sat up, pulling Wukong upright with him so that he was propped up against the couch on the floor. The movement caused a stir, seeing as Wukong’s eyes blinked open blearily shortly after. “What-”

“What was that?!” MK demanded, not giving the other a chance to recover. Wukong bolted upright, the sudden shout in his ears sending adrenaline roaring through his body. He landed on his tail (which had bushed out to twice its size), his fingers arced in a threatening manner. After a moment, he dropped out of the stance, clearing his throat. “What was… what?” He asked awkwardly, glancing over helplessly at Pigsy and Tang who were both looking at him with intrigued expressions. “You just… folded!” MK threw his arms out, and Wukong laughed a little. “Folded? I think you're exaggerating, kid.” Wukong snorted, folding his arms over his chest. “Staring at a paper intensely for a while can make you dizzy.”

That was the excuse. Dizzy. But no one seemed to buy it. It evolved into a series of tests. MK was the first to do it again. They had been training (finally) during a pit stop. Wukong had seemed unsteady, seeing how he was wavering and stumbling more often than he would admit. MK didn’t mind, however. At some point in time, Wukong took a particularly nasty stumble and ended up having to use MK to right himself. And he had taken that chance to do it. He honestly hadn’t expected it to work, but when Wukong suddenly folded and pinned him to the ground, he knew his theory was correct. It was similar to a pressure point, it seemed… wait. “Uh, Monkey King?” He hadn’t really thought through the whole waking up part…

Next was Pigsy. He hadn’t been too thrilled when MK just said “play with his hair or something, it's for a test.” Honestly, he was contemplating not even doing it. It wasn’t like it was anything important. But one day, he had an opportunity, and he thought “why not.” They had been washing dishes. Or, more so, Pigsy had and Wukong came over to bother so he ended up helping him. He inhaled and exhaled, looking away from the dish he was focused on. “You got a little something…” He began, reaching his hand up. Wukong glanced over at him, humming a little “hm?” before Pigsy had done it. He expected it to work, but he didn’t expect Wukong to drop as quickly as he did. “Shit-” He grunted, scooping his arms under the other’s armpits just in time to catch him. He heaved him upright, groaning. I’m gonna kill that kid.

Tang and Sandy opted out of the idea. Mei didn’t want to do it, seeing as she had already seen it done. And Wukong? He didn’t really suspect anything. Quite honestly, he thought he was simply passing out from exhaustion. But whenever he woke up, he felt cold. He felt like something warm had been taken away from him, leaving an empty, void hole. It wasn’t normal. He knew that. He knew that something was wrong and that he needed to talk about it or bring it up, but he just couldn’t. Communicating was hard. And it kept getting harder and harder and harder. He was spiraling out of control, and his grip on reality was loosening. He knew somewhere that the secret would eventually come out, one way or another. But the breakthrough was so much more difficult than he anticipated.

He didn’t know what time it was or how long it had been since the battle. He didn’t even know where they were. His feet slid across the deck slowly as he paced back and forth, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. He had to blink his entire face to make sure he didn’t suddenly drop and pass out. Pinching also became a resort when that didn’t work, and when pinching didn’t work? Well, he just hoped that he could keep walking. Or, more so, dragging his feet. The wind pulled at his hair and clothes in a way that irritated him. He could feel every piece of his hair waving in the breeze. He could feel where his clothes touched his skin and fur. He could feel everything and he hated it.

He didn’t know how long he had paced there for, but eventually, when he came back into awareness, the sky had grown dark. He didn’t stop his pacing, however. He continued, his tail lashing behind him. If anyone saw him, he’d probably look crazy. Maybe he was? He scratched his arm absentmindedly as he stared hollowly ahead at the deck in front of his feet, pivoting on his heels when he reached one end of the deck before turning around and going the other way. He didn’t feel crazy. But maybe that was just him. He turned around, the world blurring around him. More steps. A blur. Steps. Blur. Step. Blur. Step. Blur. Step- and something touched him.

The touch set his skin on fire. He pulled away so harshly that whoever had done it sucked in a sharp breath. He swung his head around, eyes narrowing down on the individual that had done it. The intense stare faltered when he recognized MK’s worried face. He let himself relax a little, his tail stopping to just an irritated twitch. “Are you okay?” MK murmured, and Wukong didn’t respond. The words took far too long for his mind to process. He blanked. Static was building in his ears. “You’ve been pacing for hours.” Hours? He hadn’t been keeping track of the time.

“Come inside. Please.” His hand reached forward, and Wukong’s fur bristled. He stepped back again, twisting away from the touch. MK’s face fell. Wukong looked down, his ears flattening. “I’d like to stay out here.” He croaked out. More footsteps sounded. More people. He stiffened uncomfortably under their gazes. MK made a sound in the back of his throat, taking a step towards Wukong. “You’re worrying me. Can you please just sit down for a little bit, and-”

“Get away from me!”

MK startled backwards as if he had been bitten. Wukong’s chest heaved desperately for a moment before he sucked in a sharp breath. “Wait- wait, wait wait, kid- I didn’t- I-” When was speaking so hard? He sucked in a shaky breath, grimacing as MK took a step backwards. “I didn’t mean to.” He shook his head, taking a step towards him. MK took yet another step back. His heart sank. His stomach did a flip. He was leaving. He upset him.

“Kid- hold up.” Wukong pleaded, reaching towards MK for a second before pulling his arm back to himself. His entire body was alight with pain. His fur prickled with unease. Everything that touched him made his body itch and burn. He writhed uncomfortably in his own body. “Don’t- don’t go.” He choked out. They were staring at him. He probably looked crazy. Deranged. Like a caged animal with rabies. His tail lashed behind him. He took an unsteady step backwards this time. Breathing was hard. “I didn- please.”

It was too loud. It was too loud. The static was building. He clawed at his throat, wheezing. “Please.” He pleaded, his voice wobbling. Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me. Please please please. “I didn’t- I don’t want this.” He took another unsteady step backwards, bowing his head as he trembled. He was a mess. A pathetic, trembling mess. He shook his head desperately, as if trying to come to his senses. Maybe this was a dream. Maybe he’d wake up and it would all be fine. But no matter how much he shook his head, nothing changed. He wheezed. The static built. The world blurred. He was going to die.

Bliss.

Arms wrapped around him. He faltered, sucking in a stuttering breath. MK. MK was there, pressing himself against Wukong. MK was there, his arms wrapped tightly around him with his face shoved into the other’s chest. He breathed. Blank. And for once, it didn’t burn. For once, his skin didn’t crawl under the contact. He just breathed. And for the first time in forever, he felt safe. He felt warm. He slowly relaxed, staring ahead dazedly for a moment. “If you want me to let go, tell me.” MK murmured.

Wukong said nothing.

The others said nothing. For a split second, his ears just rang. The static was gone. The ringing built. The ringing built and built and built until it was gone. He shuddered. His chest tightened and his nose and eyes began to burn. He was overflowing. Tears cascaded down his cheeks. He bowed his head slowly, exhaling a choked sob. And he clung back to MK. His hands scrabbled desperately at the back of MK’s shirt until they hooked onto something, and he grabbed it. He latched on and did not let go.

And he cried.

His body trembled, wracked with choked sobs as he pressed his face into MK’s shoulder. Incoherent words tumbled out of his mouth. Words he didn’t even think about. His legs gave out beneath him, but MK held him up. He held him until his legs got too tired, and they both sank to the ground. Wukong inhaled an uneven breath, readjusting his grip. He wasn’t going to lose him again. He wouldn’t leave him again. Never.

And MK did nothing but murmur reassurances.

Eventually, the others came over. But Wukong was just too tired to feel any shame in how vulnerable he was. His tail curled up tightly behind him, his claws piercing through MK’s shirt but not scratching at his skin (he’d have to apologize about the shirt later). He was expecting some comments about how he was a fool for not asking for help. That or for him to be scolded. But instead, he found more arms wrapping around himself in the kid.

And the cold feeling went away.

He embraced the warmth, unable to hold back the guttural, choked sobs that claimed him. He was just so tired. So, so tired. He had wanted this for so long, and he finally had it. And the relief and stress of it all had built up to be more than he could handle. His trembling didn’t stop once. His cries didn’t stop once. More and more reassurances met his ears. He felt hands rubbing his back reassuringly as he choked every now and then on a cry, his chest tightening every now and then.

He never wanted it to end.

But it had to. They all pulled away eventually, but MK and Wukong remained. He had cried himself to a point of exhaustion even he hadn’t felt before. His head lingered wearily on MK’s shoulder, propped up against the side of MK’s face. His hold on the shirt had loosened considerably, but he still had somewhat of a loose grasp. “...rest? Please?” MK finally whispered. Wukong sucked in a shaky breath once more, and nodded. Maybe the kid had meant when he got to his room, but he couldn’t help it anymore. He let his eyes shut, and he knew nothing more.

It was still hard.

Even after everything, he still struggled with it. It was much easier now that they knew. He could easily find himself lingering around someone, following them as close as possible. He could sit on a couch next to them without feeling uneasy. He could finally sleep without being plagued by bad dreams. He even found himself napping against someone else occasionally. But it was better. Far better than it had been.

He allowed himself to relax around them now. He let himself lean against them. He let himself be leaned on. It was nice. He honestly hadn’t thought it would be this big of a relief. He hadn’t even thought of him being touch-starved either. He had been joking about it one day, explaining how it felt. How he had struggled between pleasure and displeasure at any physical contact. Pigsy’s face had fallen, his gaze softening. He’d explained it to him. And Wukong had just nodded.

Touch-starved. That's what he had been… not anymore. He could finally breathe easy without being on edge. He didn’t have to tense and flinch away from someone when they rested their hand on his shoulder anymore. And honestly, it was all he wanted. He wasn’t sure how the rest of the journey would go. He wasn’t sure what enemies they would run into and what friends. But he felt a little more positive about what the outcome could be. He felt more sure that everyone would get out of it fine.

Even if it did mean he didn’t think he would.