Chapter Text
Macaque didn’t mean to stop in that memory for so long. It was just… captivating, seeing the moment things really started to fall apart unfold in front of him.
Like a tragic play.
His past self rose from a shadow-portal next to a very imprisoned Wukong. “Yo, hey bud. Gotcha a little somethin’,” he said, holding out the peach. The Macaque of the present winced at the painfully forced brightness in his tone.
Wukong gasped dramatically. “Whaaaat? For meeeee? You’re not serious, that whole peach is for me? Bud, you shouldn’t have!”
Past-Macaque’s smile fell. “Okay, you don’t have to be so you about it,” he said as he slid down the cave wall to sit.
“No, no, honestly!” Wukong assured him, sarcasm dripping from every word. “This is exactly what I need right now. I’m trapped under a mountain, but the Six-Eared Macaque brought me a peach. Hooray.”
Past-Macaque sighed. “You know I’d help if I could.”
“Oh, sure! ‘Cause normally you just rush to my rescue! ”
The anger, the arrogance and the selfishness behind those words still stung. But had he ever expected anything different, really?
Past-Macaque stood to leave; coming here had been a bad idea. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Well, it was great seeing ya, bud. Just run off like you always do!”
“No, that’s you! ” Past-Macaque snapped, but only now did present-Macaque notice how deeply his voice echoed what he’d felt within. “You’re the one who’s always running off! Looking for more power, more sources of immortality! You’re the one who wouldn’t quit while we were ahead! And the “Great Sage”, he’s gotta drag everyone else into his mess!”
“You’re not in this mess, you’re still free! Everything I did was for us!”
“You did it for yourself! You’ve become like this…obsessive demon! I told you going against the Jade Emperor was a bad idea. But no, Wukong doesn’t listen to anyone. He just does whatever he wants.” He clenched his fists, crushing the peach. “You put yourself here. Not me.”
With that, past-Macaque threw away the ruined peace offering, turned his back, and descended into a shadow-portal.
“Fine! Leave!” Wukong shouted after him. “I don’t wanna see your face here again, you big– Argh!” A moment passed, and then he sighed. “I really wanted that peach.”
The cave became quiet save for the occasional drip of water.
“So, Monkey King really was a bad guy?” MK asked quietly.
“That’s what I believed. What Azure would have you believe.” The memory shifted before their eyes: stalagmites and stalactites grew, Wukong became more disheveled, and a figure stepped into the cave. “Then, he met him ,” Macaque said, eyes narrowing. “The monk.”
In a flash of golden light, Tripitaka Tang released the Monkey King, who promptly destroyed Five Elements Mountain. When the dust cleared, Macaque and MK watched as the Monkey King leapt to attack. MK took a step forward, but before Macaque could tell him not to bother Tripitaka stopped Wukong in his tracks with a spell. In a matter of moments the Great Sage Equal to Heaven was on his knees, a golden fillet on his head.
He screamed in agony.
Macaque turned away.
“Wukong was on a path of self-destruction,” he explained, in part to distract himself. “We all were. But when he met the monk, it sent him down a different path.”
“Ooooh, the path of the good guy!” MK said, optimism restored. “Makin’ those good life choices?”
If only it were that simple. Macaque closed his eyes for a moment, reminding himself that MK hadn’t read the gods-damned book so of course he didn't understand. “Every choice has consequences, kid," he said. "For someone.”
“Ok, come on man!” MK whined as he slid into Macaque’s line of sight. “What happened between you two? For realsies.”
A hundred memories played out before Macaque’s eyes, thankfully private to him. If the kid knew what Wukong did…Well, he would probably find out eventually, but right now with Azure on the brink of destroying the universe? The kid needed his focus. He needed to trust the mentor he was trying so hard to save.
So, Macaque didn’t reply. He simply huffed and walked toward the next golden crack in Wukong’s memories.
“Seriously?! Come on man, I need answers!”
“You put yourself here. Not me.”
After leaving Wukong in his prison, Macaque returned to Flower Fruit Mountain and wept for what seemed like days. The other monkeys had gone through their own grieving process when they learned what happened, of course, but even they began to look at Macaque with pity as the days dragged on into weeks and the weeks into months. Despair hung over the mountain like a cloud.
Eventually, though, Macaque had to pull himself back together. Eventually, he had to stand up, wash away his tears, put on a change of clothes, and step out of the cave - and into a world with a little less Sun.
Those first steps were the hardest. Often he tripped on a thought, a scent, or some other remnant of him, and he would sit by the waterfall staring into nothing until one of the little ones came to check on him. It was in those moments he was most tempted to go back to Five Elements Mountain. He couldn’t say, exactly, why he didn’t; it seemed like there was a different reason every time. One day the mere thought of looking at Wukong’s arrogant face made him want to decimate the nearest mountain range. The next, guilt for abandoning his brother glued him to the floor, his imagination terrifying him with what Wukong might say. Another, cold logic told him Wukong would never learn his lesson if granted even the small pardon of Macaque’s pity.
The thought he kept coming back to, however, was the last thing he’d said to Wukong:
“You put yourself here. Not me.”
No matter what anyone might say or think, he was stubborn in this conviction: that Wukong’s fate was not Macaque’s fault. More than that, the punishment was, by all accounts, justified. Macaque had good reason to be angry, no reason to feel guilty, and even less reason to pity the Monkey King.
And yet.
And fucking yet.
No matter how many years passed, how many centuries , the thought of Wukong trapped under that mountain made his heart ache. He sometimes thought it would be easier to bear if Wukong was dead; at least then he wouldn’t wonder if he regretted anything, wouldn’t hear him when he cried himself to sleep unable to wipe the tears, wouldn’t toy with impossible ideas of finding a way to rescue him.
Why? Why did Macaque suffer, when it was Wukong being punished? Why were they so inextricably linked, that they should share in each other's anguish for all eternity?
It was unfair. It was so fucking unfair, and it was all Wukong’s fault .
"Just run off like you always do!"
When Macaque started to hear rumors that the Monkey King had been released, his first instinct was to laugh. The only reason Wukong wasn’t dead was because he was literally indestructible. The seal imprisoning him was impossible to break; Macaque had seen it himself. No one would be stupid enough to even try, anyway, given who the Monkey King was.
Then Macaque heard about the monk - the reincarnation of the Golden Cicada - and suddenly 'impossible' was just a word. The stories trickled in one after the other, each from farther and farther west and some from the Celestial Realm itself, but it was only after he received Azure’s summons that he dared to truly believe it.
Wukong was free.
And he was fighting on behalf of heaven.
“Wukong is a traitor!” Peng proclaimed. “He’ll end us the first chance he gets!”
“Yes…” Yellowtusk said. “The Stone Monkey is unpredictable. Now he’s thrown his lot in with the Celestial Host, there is no telling where his true allegiances lie.”
They saw Wukong as a threat to Camel Ridge. They weren’t interested in why Wukong had seemingly switched sides; all they cared about was their precious ‘utopia’. But Macaque had seen the wasteland outside their fortress. If the Jade Emperor was going to use Wukong to smite the place, he suspected it was for a good reason.
The question was, did Wukong see that? Or did he have his own reasons for joining the Celestial Host? There were things more important than either the Brotherhood or the Celestial Realm, after all, as proven by the conspicuous absence of the Bull King. But until they figured out what that was for Wukong, Yellowtusk was right: the Monkey King was completely unpredictable. Meaning, they couldn’t count on him to show mercy, but neither could they justify attacking first.
Macaque had never liked binary choices.
“You’re characteristically quiet, Macaque."
Macaque had never liked Peng, either. “I just think we should consider all our options before we–”
“What’s to consider?” they rudely interrupted. “Wukong’s made his choice. I say we strike him down now while we have the chance!”
Macaque closed his eyes as everything in him screamed in protest. Leave it to Peng to say the stupidest things.
“And what say you, Azure?” Yellowtusk asked.
Macaque’s ear twitched.
Azure Lion was silent for a long time before he finally said, “I do not wish to fight Wukong. He is- was, our brother. But,” he said before Macaque could relax, “we have come too far, sacrificed too much, to let the Jade Emperor destroy us. Even if he uses Wukong to do so.” He stood from his throne. “We must fight.”
“No.”
Macaque winced as the trio’s attention focused on him; the word had slipped out before he could think better of it.
“Excuse me?” Azure said.
Macaque sighed and pushed himself off the broken pillar. No sense in taking it back now. “I won’t fight,” he said, louder. “It’s a losing battle, Azure. Even more so than last time.”
“Still a coward, I see,” Peng hissed.
Azure held up a hand to silence them. “Macaque, brother, please–”
“You’re not my brother.”
A cold wind blew through the silence, making the torches flicker.
“I see,” Azure said after a moment. “Then you choose to stand with Wukong?”
“No. I choose to stay out of this,” Macaque said, staring down the Camel Ridge demons. “I don’t know why Wukong is fighting for heaven, but I have always known it’s a bad idea to cross either him or the Jade Emperor.”
“But our cause–” Yellowtusk tried.
“Isn’t worth it . But obviously you can’t see that. None of you can.”
Peng bristled. “How dare–”
“Then you may leave.”
Peng rounded on Azure. “What?! You would allow him to turn traitor as well?!”
“We cannot force him to fight with us,” Yellowtusk pointed out sadly.
“If he’s not with us he’s against us! We can’t just let him run away!”
Macaque turned to them sharply. “Staying neutral isn’t the same as running away, bird brain.”
“You little–”
“ Enough ,” Azure said, stepping down from the dais. Peng’s beak shut with a satisfying click . “I know this must be hard for you, Macaque. Though I wish I could change your mind, I understand your choice. Please know that you will be welcome here should you reconsider.”
Peng scoffed but said nothing. For once, Macaque agreed with the sentiment.
“But,” Azure continued, “know that if you cross us directly, we will have no choice but to consider you a traitor.”
“Right.” Macaque opened a shadow portal back to Flower Fruit Mountain. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He didn’t look back.
“ You’re the one who’s always running off!”
The Brotherhood lost.
Where Yellowtusk and Peng were only the Buddha knew, but Azure was dead. Wukong had sent him to the underworld himself.
Macaque kept asking himself why . There were reasons to want Azure dead, sure, but for the Jade Emperor to use Wukong against his brother? For Wukong to actually follow the order to kill him? What could justify that?
Was it enough reason to want Macaque dead, too?
He found himself looking more often over his shoulder after that, as if the Monkey King would show up at any minute with the Celestial Host in tow. It was almost enough to make him leave, or at least Listen to see if he could find some answers, but the last thing he wanted to do was fuck around and find out. That kind of attitude was what got them all into this mess to begin with. Flower Fruit Mountain was safe for the time being; Wukong probably wouldn’t come back if he hadn’t by now.
Probably being the operative word, but Macaque didn’t think about that until it was too late.
Wukong’s return to Flower Fruit Mountain came without warning - in the same way a meteor strike gives no warning before its light fills the sky, its sound breaks all the windows in a ten-mile radius, and its crater levels a forest.
Macaque’s first and completely reasonable reaction was to hide, because nobody in their right mind would want to get in the way of a Wukong looking like a ball of fire sent from the heavens to smite the earth.
“Ungrateful…stupid…fucking…ARGH!”
Wukong threw his staff - why in the hell did they let him keep that thing? - so hard it broke the sound barrier, and then the mountain. Macaque winced from his hiding place as rock rained down, startling the other monkeys into the clearing.
“What the…You guys are still here?!”
To Macaque’s surprise, Wukong caught his staff and immediately put it away at the sight of them.
“Woah, hey, I’m sorry…” He knelt, holding out his hand. One by one, the monkeys slowly started to draw closer to him. Their noses twitched, making sure of the scent, and then Wukong was laughing as he got knocked down and buried under a pile of overjoyed furballs.
“Hey, I missed you too! Wow, I can’t believe you all waited for me!” he chuckled. “Wow, I thought for sure you guys had moved on…"
Macaque blinked.
'Moved on'?
Suddenly, Wukong sat upright. Macaque saw his eyes turn gold, turn in his direction and…
Miss him, as Macaque portaled behind a tree on the other side of the clearing. His heart was pounding.
Wukong blinked away the gold. “Well, I guess not everyone waited.”
And with that, Macaque felt himself split in half.
The first half wanted to rush out into the clearing, tackle Wukong in a hug, and tell him that he did wait, that he missed him so much, that he was so happy to see him again and if he could go back he would do anything to save him.
The second half heard bitterness in Wukong’s words and remembered Azure.
Oblivious, Wukong went back to playing with the monkeys. A few of them saw Macaque lurking, but they didn’t call him out or alert Wukong. Maybe they were trying to respect Macaque’s apparent wishes, or maybe they too were afraid of Wukong’s reaction, but either way Macaque was grateful for the stall as he tried to wrestle his emotions into something that made sense .
Eventually Wukong went behind the waterfall, and Macaque compromised between his warring halves by following him at a distance. Macaque’s belongings were everywhere, but Wukong passed by them with barely a second glance; he must have thought he left them behind years ago. He didn’t dwell on anything, simply going about his day like normal.
Like he’d never even left.
“It’s like he doesn’t care,” Macaque said. He and one of the monkeys were on top of the mountain, while Wukong and the others slept soundly in the cave far below.
The monkey beside him chittered and put a paw on his knee.
“Maybe,” Macaque said. “But if he does, then he’s angry. You saw him earlier. I don’t…I don’t want to end up like Azure.”
The monkey headbutted him. Macaque pushed her away.
“Stop. I need time to think about this.”
“You know I’d help if I could.”
Three days later, Macaque was still thinking about it. As he hid in the shadows, he listened to Wukong tell the monkeys of his travels, growing more and more disturbed with each story. Wukong talked about his new companions like they were his…well, brothers. He made himself out to be the best, of course, but he couldn’t hide his fondness for Pigsy’s antics, Sandy’s optimism, and Ao Lie’s quiet support. Even Tripitaka constantly being kidnapped seemed more amusing to Wukong than annoying.
What made it disturbing was that he never mentioned Azure or the Brotherhood.
Again, Macaque struggled to understand why . Was the memory too painful for him to talk about? Had he forgotten about the Brotherhood entirely? Was he trying to replace them? What made him choose these people over his oldest friends?
For three days, Macaque drove himself to the brink of madness trying to figure it out.
And then Pigsy showed up.
Apparently Wukong wasn’t quite as loyal toward his new friends as he’d implied. According to the Pig Demon’s ranting, Wukong had abandoned the monk without permission, and without him things had gone horribly wrong - to Wukong’s seeming indifference.
“You gotta come back!” Pigsy pleaded. “You’re the only one who can defeat this demon!”
“What I’m hearing is that you lost another fight – sucks to suck, by the way – and you want me to clean up your mess,” Wukong said through a mouthful of peach.
It was comforting, in a way, to see that Wukong’s disregard for others extended beyond the Brotherhood. In fact, from his hiding place in the forest, Macaque relaxed for the first time in what felt like months as he listened to the back-and-forth.
“Tripitaka can’t make it to the Thunderclap Monastery if he gets eaten!”
“He shoulda thought about that before he used this thing on me,” Wukong said, and there was a pause. Macaque squinted and saw that there was a gold circlet wrapped around Wukong’s head. He could have sworn it wasn’t there a moment ago; it must have been hidden under a glamour spell. Sure enough, it vanished as quickly as it had appeared with a wave of Wukong’s hand.
“Interesting,” he muttered under his breath. What was the significance of that, he wondered?
Pigsy huffed. “Yeah, well. He’s sorry about that. It was a misunderstanding.”
“Hm.” Wukong sucked peach juice off of his fingers with a smack. “Is he the only one that’s sorry?”
“Fine , I’m sorry too, ya happy?” Pigsy snapped. “Will you please come back with me now?”
Wukong paused again in mock thoughtfulness. “Dunno, it’s been a while since I was home. Place is a mess behind the waterfall; I gotta do some serious renovations. Might take me, mm, a hundred years or so? You can survive without me until then, right?”
Macaque rolled his eyes.
“You really think you’ll last a hundred years if those scriptures don’t get delivered?” Pigsy asked.
“Psh.” The Monkey King waved a dismissive hand. “I’m literally indestructible. And scriptures, shmipturs. What’s so great about a dumb pile of papers anyway?”
“They’re what’s gonna redeem us! Redeem everyone!” Pigsy exclaimed in exasperation, and Macaque frowned. “Tripitaka said so about a million times, don’t you pay attention at all?"
"Yeah, well, why should I care about anything he says?" Wukong asked. He faced Pigsy with a challenging glare. “He doesn’t listen to me.”
"Don't you want to be forgiven?”
Macaque waited for the retort.
It didn’t come.
His brain did a somersault as the silence stretched on. In Macaque’s experience, Wukong was immune to guilt trips. He didn’t care about forgiveness, or permission, or what anyone else thought. He just did whatever he wanted and called it freedom.
Wukong sighed and Macaque’s ears twitched. “All right, fine.”
“Finally. If all it took was threatening you with eternal damnation–”
“Don’t push it.”
They flew off, but Macaque barely acknowledged it, too busy trying to make sense of what he’d just heard.
Wukong wanted to be forgiven, but for what? As in, what specifically? He’d committed so many crimes against heaven, and he clearly hadn’t changed his ways too much since being released. There was too much to make up for. And how were these scriptures supposed to grant him forgiveness, anyway? Like Wukong said, they were just papers; why go to all this trouble over them?
Macaque puzzled over this over the course of the next several days - or was it weeks? He eventually resorted to Listening for Wukong and his companions, just to see if he could get any more information, but without visual context much of what he Heard was useless.
He backtracked.
What did Wukong actually want? It couldn’t be forgiveness; Wukong had never felt like he needed forgiveness. No, if Macaque had to guess, the one thing Wukong wanted more than anything was freedom - and five hundred years trapped under a mountain probably only amplified that. He might even go so far as to kill a brother if he thought it would keep him from going back. But why would he think they’d send him back, unless…
It hit Macaque like lightning.
Heaven made a deal with him.
A full pardon, forgiveness for his crimes against heaven, in exchange for doing their dirty work. It probably seemed like a pretty good trade, especially if the duration of this journey thing was the time limit. But, the more Macaque thought about it, the more it didn’t add up. Heaven might be a broken bureaucracy, but there was no way they would just let Wukong off the hook after some community service. There was a catch here, somewhere, and Macaque’s mind went back to that mysterious circlet on Wukong’s head. He just knew it was important, but Listening hadn’t done any good.
He’d have to see what was happening for himself, if he was going to figure this out.
At first he decided it wasn’t worth it. Wukong got himself into whatever mess he was in, so it wasn’t Macaque’s responsibility to bail him out. That had been his policy when Wukong was under the mountain; why should he change it now? What, should he help him just because he could?
Because he could, this time. It wasn’t the mountain. There was no seal.
“You know I’d help if I could.”