Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wukong couldn’t tell anyone exactly when it started.

It was sometime after Macaque… left. But he didn’t know how long ago exactly.

He knew he’d been waiting for a while before the tiredness began to sink into his bones. Hunger had clawed its way into his stomach, but it had been so long that the pain had already become muted background static. Wukong didn’t know what it was exactly, he slept often, so he had no idea why it was getting so hard to keep his head up and eyes open.  

Eventually, this… different kind of sleep pulled him under into the depth of unconsciousness.

-------

When the fallen king woke back up again he was still tired. This was odd, because for some reason he felt like he’d been asleep for far longer than he probably should have been. Should he not have been well rested after so long? There was an uncomfortable pressure building by his abdomen, maybe the hunger was back? Or maybe he was just pressing up against a jutting out piece of rock? He was too tired to really think about it.

Wukong hadn’t been awake for long when sleep pulled him under once more.

-------

He was still tired when he woke up again. It had been longer than this time. He thinks so, at least. It feels like it. It’s hard to tell time down here. 

Discomfort churns in his stomach.

Sleep took him again before long.

-------

When he woke again, it was to the feeling of bile rising in his throat. He wasn’t even fully awake yet when vomit hit the ground at the bottom of the stone pillar he was encased in with a wet splat, his head spun as he continued to wretch. Honestly, Wukong didn’t even know what he was heaving up! He hadn’t had anything in his stomach since… since…

Body limp as he panted, Wukong shook his head of his thoughts. No point thinking about things like that, yet he still felt his eyes begin to burn with tears they couldn’t shed.

He couldn’t move and his joints were so stiff they were numb, yet his whole body still hurt. He was hungry, and some uncomfortable pressure continued to churned in the pit of his stomach. Through trying to catch his breath, dry sobs began to wrack through his body. 

He wanted to go home. He… he wanted… he wanted Macaque to come back.

He didn’t try to stifle his cries as he wailed, the sounds filled the endless cave around him and bounced off the walls. 

Would Macaque hear his crying? If Wukong apologized through his tearless sobbing would he come back? Would he have to beg? He would if he needed too. Would he bring a peach again, or anything to quell the king’s hunger for that matter? 

Wukong’s blurry eyes drift to the squashed peach Macaque had tried to give them the last time they talked, he could just see it through in the dim lighting from the seal hovering above the rock that covered his chest and the chains connecting to it. Enough time had passed that it was crumbling into itself like sand, having been turned to dust from decay.    

Would Macaque hear him? Would anything he could say bring his moon back into his orbit?

He helplessly opened his mouth with a short breathy whine, but any words that had come to mind got lodged in his throat. Wukong tired again but no words would come out, he merely opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish for a few minutes. Wukong bit back another sob.

The sound of his dry sobs continued to echo off the walls of the looming cavern around him. 

If Macaque had heard any of his pitiful crying, he didn’t seem to give Wukong any mind.

He was still crying when sleep pulled him under again.

-------   

It repeated for a while.

Wake up, fall asleep. 

Wake up, fall asleep. 

Wake up, vomit, fall asleep.

Wake up, fall asleep. 

Wake up, vomit, fall asleep.

Wake up, fall asleep. 

Wake up, fall asleep. 

Wake up, vomit, fall asleep.

He was never any more rested waking up then he was when he fell asleep, no matter how long he was asleep. Wukong still had no way of knowing how long he was down for, but he couldn’t shake the feeling his time asleep was gradually getting longer. 

The pains he was experiencing only seemed to grow, that and his new and unusual sleeping habits had long since begun to concern him, but he often found he was too tired to think about it. Too tired to feel worried about what it could mean. 

Maybe time passing so fast with him mostly asleep was a good thing, if he was conscious the whole time while down here he’d likely go insane waiting for… anything…

He fell asleep again before he could  think of what he would wait for. It's not like anyone ever came around.

-------

bright. 

Wukong cracked open his eyes and everything was bright. He screwed his eyes shut again with a hiss at the sudden shift in lighting, turning his head downwards to avoid looking at the harsh light. The ground below him smelled faintly of vomit, the scent made his nose scrunch slightly.

Wait.

Why was there suddenly so much light down here?

“Oh come now, not even gonna look at me?” a slightly feminine voice cooed at him.

The king snaps his head back up, but it’s a struggle, he feels… heavy. Squinting, he takes in the person crouching in front of him in order to look him in his eyes. 

They were most certainly a god of some kind, if their golden divine aura that almost formed a halo around their head had anything to say for itself. Wukong didn’t exactly have an easy time distinguishing humans, but they didn’t seem to be distinctly male or female from what he could tell. Wavy black hair cascaded down their shoulders and back from beneath a red veil and framed their blushed face, warm brownish-red eyes with rosy eyeshadow peer kindly into his own. Red robes hang over a white under gown, a beaded necklace hung around their neck, they appeared to be bare footed. Tucked under their arm they held a vase with a willow branch. They tilted their head and smiled at him with red painted lips.

They seemed vaguely familiar. Had he maybe seen them at the peach festival? Or were they some of the many faces he’d seen in his peripheral vision as he was tortured in front of all of the Heavens? Had they been there when he was struck down by the Jade Emperor? Or had they been there… standing right next to… the buddha… when he dropped a mountain on his head.

Wukong’s eyes went wide, mouth opening slightly as a strange sense of clarity hit him. It had been so long since his head felt this clear. 

The god’s smile widens, and despite having learned while in Heaven that showing teeth was normal and not a sign of aggression for celestials he couldn’t help the way the fur on the back of his neck began to stand up. Knowing who he was dealing with, that seemed reasonable even if the teeth weren’t usually a sign of aggression for them. He shuts his mouth with a click and narrows his eyes at the god in front of him.

“Figure out who I was, Sun Wukong?” They ask.

Wukong’s mouth is dry, but he forces his voice to work, “you-” he cuts himself off, his voice sounded horrible. 

“Take your time.” the god muses, the king merely glares back at them.

“... You’re the Bodhisattva Guanyin, the goddess of mercy.” Wukong eventually responds.   

“There you go.” Guanyin coos slyly.

“Why are you here?” Wukong asks, his irritation already rising. 

‘Calm down!’ he hisses at himself. Don’t lash out, don’t make your predicament worse, don’t make them leave. Not again, not yet!

“I have an offer to make you, one I think you’ll like.” 

Wukong scoffs, “I’ve already got six layers of immortality, there is very little you could offer me that isn’t getting out of this rock.”

“So that’s a no-go for enlightenment then?” Guanyin inquires.

“Enlightenment isn't going to get this rock off my back, will it?” he snaps.

Guanyin leans in a little closer, a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, “However, a full pardon will, won’t it?”

Wukong blinks, mouth falling open again, “are you kidding me?”

“Nope! It’s simple, really,” they lean back with a wave of their hand, “I’ve got a pilgrim making his way from a city near here to the Thunderclap Monastery on foot, all you gotta do is get him there in one piece and you’re home bound. And!” she claps her hands together, “if you learn to be less impulsive, more aware, and more considerate along the way we can throw some true enlightenment in there for you!” 

“I…” Wukong blinks at them in confusion, were they serious? Why would anyone offer such a thing to him? “Does anyone know you’re down here?”

Guanyin merely smiles and winks at him.

“They don’t?” he asks incredulously. 

The goddess of mercy seems to find this funny for some reason, throwing their head back and laughing. Wukong doesn’t usually fancy being laughed at, least of all by gods who more often than not think he’s lesser than them, but somehow this is different. It’s a new, yet somehow familiar sound, something akin to yearning for a home you didn’t know you had. Homely, yeah homely. It makes something war blossom in his chest.

He’s been alone for a really long time, hasn’t he?

The Bodhisattva finally stops laughing enough to speak, looking at him once more with an expression that softens into something he can’t quite place, “well, the Jade Court certainly doesn’t know. But they don’t need to, as I don’t answer to them. And the person who I do answer to left deciding the great monks' disciples up to my discretion and mine alone, and I think this would be good for you. I believe mercy is long overdue for you little one.”

“Great Monk? Disciples? Little one? ” Wukong’s head was spinning from the opportunity that was being dropped into his lap.

“Hmm, yes. The pilgrim you’d be assigned to is a buddhist monk with the by name Tripitaka, who just so happens to be the final reincarnation of the Golden Cicada, hence the need for protection.” they explain, “you, should you take my offer, will be traveling with him alongside three others in need of redemption as his disciples. You know, the whole learning-to-be-better-along-the-way part? And I know many beings from the bureaucracy aren’t really that observant, but I know a young unguided mind when I see one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” the king says through gritted teeth.

“Whatever you say, Sun Wukong. Now, do we have a deal?”

Wukong hesitates for a moment. What if this wasn’t real? What if it was a trick? He stares at Guanyin, they were known for listening to the laments of the people and answering with kindness. They smile at him. Could he really be free? Could he go home? Would his pain end? Surely even a fraction of time outside of this place would be good, right?

It’s not like anyone was waiting for him down here.

But he did have people waiting back home, his subjects. It would be worth trying, for them, surely. 

“... I’ll do it.” 

“Excellent!” Guanyin says, smiling with glee. They hold out their hand as if to have the two of them shake on it, then pauses. Wukong merely flaps his one visible hand at them while raising an eyebrow, his hand only being movable at the wrist. Guanyin moves to shake the hand from where it was stuck with a chuckle.

Fast as a striking snake, they're hand is placed on the top of his head.

 “wha- hey! What are you-” there’s suddenly a weight around his scalp, he feels magic warmed metal rapidly cooling from where it was pressed against his forehead. 

“My apologies, this is merely a preemptive measure. It will be removed as soon as you complete your journey, however that may end up being.” Guanyin stands and the hand on his head pulls away, and he instantly looks up at the goddess before him. They look… sympathetic?

“I- wha- preemptive- what?” he asks, puzzled. His confusion makes a dramatic shift into boiling anger when they don’t immediately respond, “what is this thing!? What did you just put on me!? What do you mean preemptive-!?”

Gaunyin’s face doesn’t change as they back away, turning to leave with lotus petals beginning to pool at their feet. Leaving.

His anger surged up more, “HEY! WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING!? ANSWER ME!?”

“The monk you are to follow will be here in roughly three days' time. He will free you, and you will follow him west. We will see each other again soon, my new friend.” 

Lotus petals swarmed around the cavern on unexplainable wind, they engulfed the figure of the goddess entirely, obscuring them from view. A moment passed, then the wind died down and the petals seemed to disappear, leaving only a handful scattered around the ground where the Bodhisattva had been just before.

“H- HEY!” his eyes burn with unshedable tears, “GET BACK HERE! WHA- WHAT Do- do you…” his anger quickly dissipates, he knows yelling isn’t bringing anyone back down here any sooner, still, “AGH! I’M NOT YOU’RE NEW FRIEND!”

Wukong huffs. Blinking repeatedly in a desperate attempt to stop his eyes from burning, he didn’t even know why he was crying, he wasn’t sad or anything, and he just properly met Guanyin. His anger? justified. They came in here acting all friendly and then stuck something on his head for “preemptive measures”, whatever that meant, only after he agreed to their deal with no prior warning that “preemptive measures' ' were needed! But crying? Gods, had he been alone long enough that a stranger’s scheming could hurt him that much? 

He refuses to cry over this, he’s a king for crying out loud! Wukong shakes his head and takes a breath, then another. His anger slowly trickles out of him, leaving him feeling upset, confused, and mostly numb.

Wukong’s stomach churns, he feels more heavy than before.

Only a few minutes later, sleep reclaims the king.

-------

He wakes to something pressing into his cheek.

Wukong blearily blinks open his eyes, letting them adjust to the dim lighting of the cave. He groans, and his attention is instantly caught by a small eep!

The king’s eyes go wide, pupils narrowing as he locks onto the man in front of him as he pulls away the end of the staff he’d been poking the monkey’s facing with.

He studies the man, suspicious but curious warm honey eyes stare back at him. He had a soft jawline, and the corners of his eyes were slightly wrinkled by age, but he otherwise seemed rather young. Wukong was more accustomed to the ageless faces of the deities in Heaven, but if he had to guess, the human in front of him was maybe somewhere around three decades old. He wore a necklace of gold beads around his neck. Though it was the red and yellow holy cassock, and ornate headpiece, that was perhaps the biggest give away that he was looking at a monk. 

The monk clears his throat, straightening to stand more formally, “Are- Are you Sun Wukong?”

Wukong blinks, Guanyin mentioned a monk coming for him, didn’t they? Best to check if this was the right monk, even if the fact he was standing in front of Wukong now was a show that he must have had some guidance in order to find him.

“...Who’s asking?”

“I am Tang Sanzang, but for this journey I have been named Tripitaka, the great monk. I have been tasked by the Bodhisattva Guanyin to journey west and retrieve scriptures from the buddha himself at the Thunderclap Monastery. I was told by the goddess of mercy that the first of my four disciples, a monkey demon by the name of Sun Wukong, would be lying in wait for me beneath this mountain. Are you Sun Wukong, monkey?” The monk finished with a question.

Wukong’s gold stained vision noticed how as the monk talked he seemed to emit a pulsing gold glow. He really did seem to be a reincarnation of the Golden Cicada.

“... Yes. I am Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the Monkey King.” He answers proudly after a pause.

The great monk eyed him cautiously, then turned his head up to look at the pillar of stone wrapped in chains that kept him imprisoned, ”... Why is it you were imprisoned, Sun?”

Wukong scoffs, “Oh, you know. Being a bit of a trouble maker. But in my defense Heaven kept trying to come after me when I would have been perfectly fine dropping the issue entirely and going our separate ways the first time they humiliated me.”  

“You caused trouble in the Heavens?” the monk asked, shuffling closer to smooth his fingers along one of the chains.

“Well… things got out of hand quickly and one thing led to another… I may or may not have challenged the throne.”

The monk pulls his hand away from the chains and stares at him in disbelief, mouth open and eyes wide.

“But I’ve been down here since I failed and rethinking my life choices and am seeking to repent!” the orange monkey adds quickly.

The monk’s eyes harden slightly, “that explains Guanyin providing ‘preemptive measures’ I suppose.”

Wukong’s face scrunches at the reminder of the circlet atop his head, his drowsy mind having nearly forgotten it was there. 

The monk sighs and moves to crouch in front of Wukong, extending a hand to hover in front of the seal keeping the chains clasped in place, a golden glow enemates from the monk’s hand as a small, gold, magic sigil only slightly larger in diameter than the seal that kept him trapped appeared in the space between his hand and the seal in question. 

The imprisoned monkey watches mesmerized as the spell sigil began to glow brighter and brighter, the seal beneath it gradually losing its own magic glow. Wukong feels a sort of strength he hasn’t felt in years begin to seep into his bones and flesh, making him no less exhausted but still thrilling him with the idea of once again being capable of leveling mountain ranges. A soft gasp escapes him as a pressure within his chest finally lets him out of its vice grip, magic instantly thrumming to life in his veins like sparks. He’d forgotten what his own magic flowing freely felt like.

The monk- Tripataka, pulls his hand away and the sigil shrinks away with it, the seal for the chains now lacking any glow and devoid of magic. Tripataka stands, taking a step back before speaking.

“There, my new monkey companion, you are now free.”  

Lightning bolts of excitement shoot through his body, his magic sparking at the chance to be used, “Not yet I’m not.” He grins widely.

He shifts his body, pushing up against the stone wrapped around him, and for the first time in five hundred and sixty-eight years, the rock encasing him cracks. He can’t help the giggle that escapes him as he shoves his weight against the stone again, causing more, very satisfying, cracks. The cavern shakes a little at the sudden disruption.

He hears Tripataka swallow thickly, “Do- do you perhaps mind not bringing this place down on our heads?

Wukong throws his head back and laughs, it’s almost manic. calming down after a few seconds later, he speaks.

“Oh, the only way I’m getting out of here is if this place crumples, great monk.” The monkey teases.

“In that case, do you mind letting me leave before bringing this place down on my head?”

He threw his head back and laughed again, “Of Course! Wouldn’t want you dying this early into your journey.” 

Tripataka holds out his hand, creating a new very small sigil just above his palm which was turned up to the sky. A small orb of light pulls itself out of the sigil slowly, illuminating the great monk’s face as it floats up to hover at his eye level. Tripataka pulls his hands back to his chest, then opens his mouth to speak.  

“This,” he gestures at the light, “will disappear once I am a safe distance from the mountain. Once you are free please wait for me to come back and find you, then our journey together will begin.” the monk explains. 

“You got it, mister monk!”

Tripataka eyes for a moment, then nods, turning to walk away. Wukong tries not to notice the way his heart aches as he watches the monk disappear from view. He’d see the monk again, there was no reason to care that much.

So Wukong waited.

He tried very hard to be patient as he glared at the small orb of light hovering in front of him, willing it to disappear. Wukong didn’t dare try and break free until it did, not wanting to risk killing the monk in the aftermath of whatever he ended up doing to this cursed mountain. He needed Tripataka alive to complete the journey and receive his reward, so he waited dutifully for it to vanish like Tripataka had told him too.

But Wukong itched with the need to be free. Wukong hadn’t felt so awake in literal centuries. The darkness felt heavier than it ever had before, it was suffocating. The silence was deafening. He hears a distant ringing in the back of his ears, it’s too quiet and yet far too loud at the same time. He feels cold. His world is spinning and Wukong’s eyes burn and he feels like he’s about to throw up. 

The light goes out. 

Wukong’s eyes go wide, panting. He chokes back a dry sob. He doesn’t even think before the sound of cracking rock erupts around him.

Then the mountain is gone.

Wukong’s back lays across uneven stone, but he’s no longer caught mid run, he’s splayed out on some large rock looking up at the sky. It’s bright, and the sky is a brilliant cerulean. Wukong’s eyes stare unblinkingly at the wide expanse, watching a few lonely wispy white clouds drift across the sky. His eyes start to burn.

He was still breathing heavily and ragged. The ringing in his ears was gone, replaced by the sound of a light breeze sifting through grass and trees, and a distant birdsong. The sun gently caresses him with warm rays of sunlight, and he doesn’t feel so cold anymore. His body is stiff, he doesn’t have the mind to move anyway.

That is how Tripitaka finds him, Wukong doesn’t notice he’s back until the monk lightly touches his shoulder. Wukong blinks, slowly coming back to reality.

“-er you alright, monkey?” he worries.

Wukong can do nothing but meekly nod. He hasn’t been this good in a very long time.

Yet his stomach churns uncomfortably still.

“Are- are you certain?” Tripataka asks with an uncertain look.

Wukong slowly nods again, forcing his voice to work, “Yeah… ” 

“You- you are absolutely certain?” the monk asks again.

Wukong frowns, “Yes,” he reiterates, “I just- need to get my bearings?”

“Are you sure that’s all you need? Perhaps I should find you something more comfortable to wear, or find you some food and water? Maybe you should rest a bit before we begin to travel west.” Tripataka suggests nervously.

“No, no, that’s fine. I can find food myself and I slept the better portion of the last five and a half centuries, it's probably wise to stretch my legs a little.” Wukong says with confidence and a dismissive wave of his hand.

Tripataka frowns down at him, “Are you certain? Perhaps doing anything strenuous so soon wouldn’t be wise with you being- um, being…”

It’s now Wukong’s turn to be confused, raising a brow at the monk, “What?” he was beginning to grow frustrated with the monk’s unexplained fussing.

“Um… I merely- is- are you-” the monk stumbles over his words, “as- as far as I was told you weren’t being fed so I just assumed…” Tripataka falters, resigning to merely gesture down at Wukong’s stomach.

Wukong looks at the monk confused, his stiff arm creaking as he instinctively moves to touch his stomach at the words-

Huh.

The monkey had expected to be deathly thin, but instead found his stomach had grown. Now more confused, Wukong props himself up onto his elbow, looking down at himself. His stomach was, in fact, swollen. Not by much, he looked like he had a fair bit pudge on him but otherwise seemed normal. Aside from the fact that it very clearly didn’t seem to be excess fat but something else, something he’d seen before. 

Something he’s seen in the expecting mothers in his troop back home. 

Cold washes over Wukong’s shoulders, and he squints at his stomach as if that will change anything. His saturated gold vision seems to focus slightly more, and he begins to be able to make out strings of magic flowing around him. 

And in him.

There, just beneath his own magic flowing through his veins, is a small little bundle of magic. Similar to his own but not identical, however close.

new magic, Young magic.   

A young magic core, a soul.

An infant.

Wukong is numb. He’s frozen, eyes wide and staring. The monk next to him places a hand on his shoulder again.

“Are- are you alrig-”  

Wukong screams.

“Oh sweet buddha” Tripataka flinches.

Chapter Text

Wukong’s mind is blank, eyes distant. 

The hand on his stomach shifting around brings him back to reality. He looks up at the god kneeling in front of him with a conflicted look on their face. The two of them were alone, Guanyin having shooed the monk off so they had some privacy while they talked.

Guanyin had returned about an hour before after a very hasty prayer for help from the great monk. Wukong had been very stubborn at first about letting them touch him again after the “preemptive measures” stunt they pulled, but after some minor shuffling about, arguing, and Guanyin offering him a peace offering in the form of three magic leaves that could get him out of trouble, he had eventually relented and let them sit him down and start checking him over. They’d been shuffling their hand around over his stomach for… actually, he’d lost track of time.

Wukong was honestly starting to feel worried.

“Well,” the goddess says, a mix of emotions on their face as they finally pull away their hand, “It’s… definitely a baby.”

He slumps forward. Wukong’s mind goes blank again, thoughts whirling around in his brain so fast they were nigh incomprehensible yet somehow still clear.

He hadn’t seen any of this coming. How was he supposed to? He had no idea how this could have occurred. Sure he’d… had a partner before, and they’d been very close, but they hadn’t gotten around to being sexually active, neither of them had felt the need. And even with all that side, he’d been stuck in a rock for the last five and a half centuries! Demon pregnancies could be long, but not that long! What in the name of Heaven happened!?

Wukong’s mouth opened and closed as he slowly shook his head looking back up again. Pleading for answers as he stares wide-eyed into Guanyin’s own eyes, trying to figure out how to turn his thoughts into words. 

 “I- what- how- from where!?” Wukong cries.

Guanyin looks down at him confused. “What do you mean ‘from where'?” 

“I mean how is this possible!” Wukong all but shrieks, “I’ve never had a sexual partner before! And I sure as hell haven’t been free long enough to do anything that would lead to me having a visible baby bump!” his eyes were burning again.

“That is… odd-” Guanyin begins uncertainly.

“Odd? Odd!” Wukong yells, beginning to yank at the fur tufts framing his face in distress, “I’m not prepared for this! What am I supposed to do!” 

“I merely meant that this is very sudden and very unforeseen, my friend-” Guanyin attempts to correct.

“Yeah, no shit!”

Guanyin crouches down slightly in an attempt to be more on his level. “Are you certain you don’t know how this happened? I would not judge if you-”

“YES I’M SURE!” Wukong feels the tears of frustration sting behind his eyes, face red with anger and humiliation. Why didn’t they believe him?

“Alright, I am just checking to be sure. If you are sure that you didn’t have a hand in this, then perhaps it has something to do with you being a monkey demon?.” Guanyin muses.

“ I don’t know! And that still doesn’t tell me what I’m supposed to do about this!” he shouts, gesturing at his stomach.

If he really was with child, would he have to do the pilgrimage like this? Maybe those deemed above him see this as a valid reason to let him skip out on the journey? Would they still give him that pardon, or would he spend the rest of time being hunted to be imprisoned again? While with child? 

Should he even let them know about this?

Wukong rubs his stomach, a new wave of horrific thoughts beginning to churn around in his head. 

Guanyin places their free hand on his shoulder.

“Well,” he refocuses on the god in front of him as they begin to speak, “I’m afraid that your agreement to join the pilgrimage was intended to be binding. Should you be formally dismissed by your master, even for something like being with child, you would not be granted your pardon and something tells me that would not suit you.”

His heart sinks, and he shakes his head with a frown. He needed to be able to go home.

Guanyin pauses, then continues. “As for what you wish to do about your… predicament, that is completely up to you, as well as whoever you may want to tell. ”

Wukong slumps backward slightly, shoulders sagged as he hangs his head and looks up to the vibrant blue sky so far above, and the farther clouds carrying the heavenly realm. He studies the shifting clouds, thinking. 

What did he want? Once upon a time he had dreamt of maybe one day having a family with his love, once he was sure he could protect what mattered to him. But… but Macaque… he was gone. And thanks to the Bodhisattva in front of him he was bound to some human for the next what? Maybe a couple of decades? Sure he’d agreed to the journey, but he hadn’t asked for this.  

Was this some kind of extra punishment from some higher being, some last ditch effort to give him some semblance of a weakness? Maybe it had worked, if he was already hesitating. 

Wukong’s eyes burned. He didn’t really know why.

The king shakes his head. Alright, slow down for a moment. ‘One step at a time Wukong, let’s start with what you do know.’

He knew he didn’t want to leave without that pardon, that’s for one. He wanted to go home, and he wanted to be able to stay there unbothered by anyone from any other realm. And he needed the pilgrimage for that, so he had to stay. But… something like this kind of journey would be very taxing even if he wasn’t with child. And no one other the him and the goddess in front of him currently knew that, and knowing how quick some of his demonic enemies let alone the Jade Court of Heaven would jump on the opportunity to exploit something like this, maybe even be rid of the problem before it became- they were- were even born, Wukong wasn’t sure he wanted that to change.

Wukong could- could always just- just ask for the Guanyin for the right herbs to- to deal with it before anyone else could-

The hand on his shoulder gives a light squeeze, his head snaps down to find the Bodhisattva kneeling in front of him now eye-level with the fallen king.

“Sun Wukong, whatever you believe is best for you, I will aid you on your journey.”

The king felt like the air in his lungs was punched out, his eyes widened at how softly Guanyin was smiling at him. His eyes burn. Wukong slumps forward and bows his head, their foreheads nearly  touching.

Wukong’s eyes feel more wet than they have in centuries. “I-” he chokes on the words, “I don’t- I don’t know. I- I need this journey, I want to go, but I don’t-” the words get lodged in his throat.

“You aren’t sure what to do about the baby.” they finish for him.

The golden monkey merely nods in response.

“That’s fine.” Guanyin’s voice is soft as their hand moves from his shoulder to cup his cheek, his body goes rigid and then quickly relaxes again, as if a shock had jolted through him. “If you want, you can begin your journey so while you travel you can think on the matter, and then come to your decision after a little bit of time. How does that sound?” 

Wukong’s stares into their warm eyes, throat is still too clogged to speak at first. For a moment he thinks he might actually shed a tear, so for a moment he just nods before forcing his voice to work. ”... yeah, that sounds good.” his voice comes out warbled, and his lip quivers a little. 

His hands are trembling, his breathing is shaky, and his eyes still sting.

“... do you need a moment?” 

Not trusting his voice anymore, he nods.

Guanyin stands, pulling their hand away from his face. He really does try not to, but a pitiful sound squeezes past his tight shut lips at the loss of the warm touch. The Bodhisattva paused, then turned back and sat down on the stone next to him, delicately draping an arm across the king’s shoulders and pulling him close. In return the king turns his body to wrap his arms around their torso, turning his head into their side as his hands fist into their red robes. Wukong knows he shouldn’t be letting them this close so soon, but he finds he doesn’t have enough of a mind through his emotions to care about seemingly being so desperate to have someone close.

All he can think about is how warm Guanyin’s body is, compared to the cold embrace of stone that he had grown accustomed to.

Despite the welcomed warmth, Wukong couldn’t help but wish for more. 

He wished he was back home snuggling under a pile of smaller monkeys with a fruit basket within arms reach while they basked in the sun. he wished under the pile with him was the refreshingly cooler body of black fur that would laugh at how he complained every time there was movement to disrupt the moment, and despite the teasing would intertwine their tail with his while running gentle clawed hands through his mane.

But Wukong isn’t back home, and he won’t be for awhile yet. Even if he was back home, some dreams, like the ones of lazy mornings from a simpler time and soft nights spent stargazing while cuddled close, don’t come true.

A hand rubs comforting circles into his back as his body trembles, far more soft than he would have expected to be given to him. After a while, gradually his throat unclogged and his eyes stopped burning. Leaning away slightly as his grip on their robes loosen, Guanyin at last breaks the silence.

“So, here is what we’ll do. For now, you will carry on your journey with your master as originally planned, I will try and figure out how this may have happened. Once we have more information we will figure out what we should do from there. How does that sound?”  

Wukong remains clinging to their side like an infant, feeling better but now slightly annoyed at himself. “... It’s better than nothing.” he grumbles out.

“Alright then. I should not keep you pilgrims busy much longer, you’re burning daylight.” they say as they pull their arm off his shoulders and stand. Wukong forces himself to let go as they do.

“Do you wish for me to inform Tripataka of your… situation?” they ask, gesturing at his stomach. “It may change how this journey proceeds for you if your pilgrim brothers know.” 

Wukong tilts his head, thinking. Did he want the monk to know? The less people that know the better surely, but if this journey is easier on him if he knows…

Who is Wukong to pass up the opportunity?

Wukong nods. “Tell him.”

The goddess of mercy gives him a solemn nod. “Alright, goodbye for now my friend. You have my best wishes for your travels.” 

And with that, the Bodhisattva Guanyin turns and leaves, going off to find the monk.

Wukong is unsure of what to do with himself for a few moments, so he just watches them go. When they disappear behind the crumbling, rocky remains of his once mountain prison his mind remains blank for a moment longer, sightlessly scanning the horizon of waving lime grass and jutting stone outcrops. He swings his feet from his seat atop one of said outcrops.

He should really stretch his legs some more.

Bracing his hands on either side of him, he slides forward and pushes himself to his feet. The soft palms of Wukong’s feet hit the grass. It tickles. He snickers, sliding a foot forward and letting the grass brush access the bottom of his feet and through his gaps between his toes. He sets his foot back on the ground, testing his weight on it before stepping forward. 

Then he steps forward again.

And again.

And again, 

And again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again-  until he’s practically spinning in circles.

His legs shake, his joints ache and creak in protest. It hurts a bit.

Laughter bubbles and falls from his lips anyway.

“Sun?” Wukong stumbles, barely managing  to catch himself before he turns to find Tripataka had returned.

He stands up straight, his back aches in protest. “Ah, you’re back!”

The monk looks at him with a slightly concerned expression, Wukong smiles sheepishly. “Are you well, Sun?”‘ 

“Oh yeah,” he shrugs, “peachy! Guanyin just wanted to be sure.”

“Right, the Bodhisattva informed me that you would still be joining me despite being… burdened.” The monk’s eyes meticulously but quickly scanning the monkey’s form does not escape Wukong’s notice.

“Hah, yeah.” there was an almost awkward pause, and Wukong looked back up to the sky. The sun was slowly drifting farther west towards the horizon. “Well! Guanyin mentioned we were losing daylight, so we should probably get moving. Any distance we can make is a distance closer to getting this over with, right?”

The monk frowns, before turning to walk back to his horse grazing in the field behind him. “This a very important task and it is an honor to have it bestowed to us, you should not speak of it like it is merely a chore, monkey.” The monk reprimands. “But you are correct, we should make it as far as we can everyday.”

Wukong huffs, rolling his eyes, but follows the monk through the grass anyway. He scans his surroundings as they walk, lime grass, a mountain (or rather a lack of now) of scattered stone rubble, the occasional twisting tree in the distance. It was a far cry from what he remembered when he was struck to earth and promptly imprisoned. The terrain then had been nothing but blank, bleak stone, just like the mountain that kept him there. But clearly, the area surrounding the mountain had been allowed to flourish. It was picturesque, honestly. Distantly he thinks that in another life he may have wanted to paint this peaceful glade.

Instead, far more presently, Wukong thinks bitterly of how he wasn’t granted even a fraction of that same nourishing kindness.

Distant again, a voice tells him he was once upon the time. But it hadn’t been enough for him. 

Wukong grounds his teeth together as he comes to a stop by a tall white stallion, tall enough that Wukong barely made the bottom of it’s shoulder. The monk stands on the other side of the steed.

“Do you want to take the horse, Sun?”

Wukong’s head snaps up from his thoughts. “Huh, what?”

“You must not have much strength right now, and must be stiff from lack of movement. If you wish, you can ride the horse for now.” Tripataka offers. 

The monkey king blinks at the human, before shaking his head. ”That’s alright, you can ride for now.”

“Are you certain?” 

“Yes,” Wukong grumbles, “It would be better for me to stretch my legs a little. And have a bath, some new clothes would be nice. But for now I’d like to stretch my legs.”

“I suppose so, very well.” the monk concedes. “We’ll stop and see if we can get you some clothes and a bath shortly.”

With that, the monk mounts his white steed and sets off at a trot, checking that Wukong was following him. When he saw that he was keeping pace, they began their trek west, following the sun. A demon monkey and human atop a horse, in somber silence.  

-------

That bastard ate their horse!

What kind of self respecting dragon does that!?

Wukong shrinks back behind the rock that was his and “his master’s” (ew, he wasn’t some pet) shelter from the dragon. Pressing his back to the stone he slides to the ground, sitting next to the curled up monk next to him who seemed to be trying to make himself as small as possible. 

He was starting to see why the monk needed protecting. So quick to utter spells but cowering the second some common river dragon even looks in their direction.

That spell had hurt. He’d need to have words with Guanyin later.

However, the new clothes and bath he’d gotten out of the ordeal had been so refreshing after his centuries of nothing but dirt and dust that it was almost worth it. Almost. Maybe it would have been if his head didn’t still feel like his head was being simultaneously ripped open and squashed together. He also wasn’t very happy about needing to cut his mane short, he’d always liked wearing it longer. Alas, his mane had become so matted and tangled and dirty over his centuries beneath the earth that it was unsalvageable as it was. It shouldn’t have been as hard as it was to cut, but he had nearly started sobbing upon his first attempt at cutting it, it was honestly a little humiliating. Wukong was glad the monk had given him privacy while he bathed, he didn’t want anyone seeing him like that.  

Wukong is pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a tremendous splash echoing through the little valley, the sound of a large body pushing its way back into the water.

Leaning his head back against the large rock behind him, Wukong groans at the ever slow to fade phantom pressure of a migraine encasing his scalp. With a groan he stands back up and pulls his staff from behind his ear.

“There’s a village not far past the river, once we get past the dragon we can buy a new horse there. For now, stay here. I’ll handle the overgrown lizard.”  Wukong says, peaking around the rock to look back to the river.

The monk uncurls for the first time since ducking behind the rock, already shooting him a reprimanding glare. “Monkey! Don’t be brash.” 

Turning back to the monk, annoyance simmers beneath his skin. “Look, that’s a dragon. Unless you plan on calling the journey quits now, I have to go-”

“Excuse me?” 

The monk screams, and wukong jumps to the side away from the sudden voice, pressing his back to the rock once more.

In front of the two pilgrims now stood an elderly looking mortal, dressed in fine yet simple robes of green and earth brown fabrics. He had an earthy skin tone, kind grass green eyes that had wrinkles pinching the corners, stone gray hair, and a warm aura that put Wukong at ease surprisingly quickly. A mountain spirit.  

Next to him, Tripataka scrambles to stand, smoothing out his robes. “Ah, hello sir! How can we help you?”

The spirit nods at the monk in greeting. “I couldn’t help but overhear that you were having trouble with the dragon that moved in, and wanted to offer some help. Tell me, are you the pilgrim monk everyone’s been chattering about recently?”    

“Yes, I am. But if I may, how is this to help with the dragon?” the monk happily answers, Wukong narrows his eyes at the god.

The spirit perks up. “Well! I heard that the dragon was on orders from the Bodhisattva Guanyin to aid you on your journey as one of your disciples!”

Huh. “What!?”

-------

An hour later, after the earth spirit called upon Guanyin to draw the dragon out of the river peacefully, Wukong finds himself sitting back as the monk makes introductions with a vaguely familiar dragon, now in a more human form. Tan skin that meshed into green scales in random spots, emerald green eyes, and curling mint colored horns protruding from long white hair. Wukong wasn’t really paying attention to what anyone was saying.

Someone moved next to him, a hand is placed on his shoulder. Wukong looks up, finding the kind, almost apologetic eyes of Guanyin looking down at him. Almost.

The migraine lingering along his head like a hazy cloud reminds him their not. 

Wukong shrugs off their hand and looks down again, and they pull away. “Wukong-”   

“Don’t.” he pointedly kept his gaze forward, looking to his now two traveling companions.

The goddess of mercy sighs, “I was hoping knowing of your condition would discourage him from using the spell.” 

“But it’d be fine if I didn’t have some- some thing I didn’t ask for growing in me?” he hisses at them.

Guanyin remains silent for a moment, sucking in a breath before speaking. “You know very well why it was necessary to have some form of keeping you in line, but it is just that, only meant to be used when you are out of control. I thought it was perhaps a little harsh myself even before learning of the child, but now… it’s most definitely a touch too much, I will ask for leniency on your behalf considering the state you are in.”

“... thank heavens for small favors.” Wukong grumbles.

A beat past, and another.

“Have you found anything yet?” he asks quietly, looking up at the Bodhisattva at last.

They solemnly shake their head. “... Not yet, I’m sorry. I will keep searching.”

He just nods looking back to the human and dragon still talking. “Thank you.” the words come out quiet, and small.

“I will be back with more as soon as I can. Farewell for now, little one.” with a plume of lotus flowers gathering on unnatural wind, Guanyin disappears just as they did beneath the mountain. 

“Sun!” Wukong’s attention is quickly drawn to the monk calling for him, now holding the reins of… a horse? Didn’t their horse get eaten? 

Wukong raises a brow as he walks over to the monk and horse, dragon-horse he realizes, the aura of their newest companion now enemating from the tall and bulky white stallion.  

“Ao Lie was kind enough to take the form of a horse to replace the one he ate, which he actually apologized for! You could learn from his politeness, Monkey.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Wukong rolls his eyes. “Let’s get to that town by nightfall, alright.”

The monk dismisses him with a sigh and a shake of his head, mounting the ivory horse, complete with a saddle. As the dragon-horse, Ao lie (not a common river dragon, that’s a royal), is spurred into motion Wukong follows suit, trailing along the behind. 

… He’ll bet the dragon isn’t even sorry about their first horse at all, he just wants the excuse of being a horse to not have to do anything.

As he walks, Wukong lets his mind go blank.  

-------

Wukong sat at a long wood table, boredly staring down at his food as he pushed around a bean bun. Being a monkey and all, Wukong didn’t care much for cooked foods, but he had enjoyed the fruit platter well enough. He had eaten nearly the whole thing himself, including some fruits he hadn’t really liked before.

Specifically the apricots. Wukong had always found them fine, but they were far from a favorite. Now however, with a glance at the now empty fruit platter, Wukong found himself with an oddly high level of disappointment that there wasn’t more to have.

“-pig, a pig, can you believe it?” their host’s voice draws his attention, but Wukong still isn’t to interested in listening to his rant about no good demons-

The man putting them up for the night wouldn’t stop complaining about his daughter marrying a demon. Who, allegedly, is a very hard worker and built the families wealth up significantly, whom the patriarch in question agreed to let his daughter marry.   

To be fair, he apparently hadn’t known he was a demon when he agreed to marry off his daughter, but in Wukong’s opinion, the situation definitely could have gone worse.

Wukong shifts in his seat uncomfortably, the churning feeling in his stomach having returned.

Annoyance began to bubble under his skin. He was bored, hungry, the old man wouldn’t stop talking, and his abdomen ached. Wukong was tired, he wanted to sleep, but with a glance at one of the large windows in the dining room he found the sun hadn’t even begun to set.

He hoped for word from Guanyin soon- 

“We can help you get your daughter back!” 

The monkey looks up at the monk sitting across the table from him. Wukong finds nothing but sincerity in the monk’s face. He slumps back into his chair with a grimace and inwardly groans.

‘You have got to be kidding me.’

-------

It wasn’t actually that hard.

Getting the daughter of the patriarch out of the pig’s home was really easy as it turned out the pig was at work at some dinky ‘restaurant’ a little out of the way, and left no magic wards or traps on the house to get in the way at all! But he still had the demon to deal with, for which Wukong decided to disguise himself as the woman they had freed. 

It was hilarious, actually. At least Wukong thought it was. 

For a pig demon, the dude was surprisingly easy to trick with a simple glamor. At least, it was until the uncomfortable pain in his stomach spiked and his magic flickered, revealing his true appearance to the demon who promptly wacked him over the head with a rake. 

It hurt, but didn’t even put a dent in his head, but it didn’t bring back the last flickers of migraine for a few minutes which Wukong wasn’t too pleased about. With his stomach already intent on making him miserable he was far from in the mood to deal with his head hurting either. 

Wukong ended up having to chase the pig around a bunch, the coward deciding it was better to run when his rake (which the pig claimed was supposed to rip his soul apart) had no effect on the orange furred monkey. Whenever Wukong got too close, the pig would try and fight if only to gain the chance to run. He wasn’t a half bad fighter, having an advantage in size and weight, standing twice as tall and twice as round as Wukong himself. But they say the bigger they are the harder they fall, what Wukong lacked in physical advantage he gained back in speed and agility. 

In the end, the pig didn’t last long fighting.

After finally managing to wear down the demon, he practically begged for mercy. Technically, he was needed alive so he could make a deal with the patriarch to give up his place in the family, but that could just as easily be accomplished if the pig was dead…

But Wukong didn’t feel like another headache right now, not when the last had only recently gone away.

So he dragged the demon back to the old man’s home. By then the sun was nearly below the horizon, with a deal set to be made Wukong was looking forward to one more large meal and a bed before setting out on the road once more. For now, all he had to do was stand there next to the monk while the patriarch thanked them for their help (even though Wukong did basically everything), and glare at the pig demon to keep him from trying anything.

The demon in question was sitting at a table behind the elderly man, looking awfully uncomfortable as fiddled with the sleeves of his blue tunic with hoof-like hands while Wukong glared at him from a few feet away. 

“-ank you, great monk- ” 

“Ey wai’, great monk?” The pig’s hazel eyes brighten a s he perks up.

The patriarch turns. “Quiet swine!”

The pig ignores him. “Nah, nah, wai’. Like, th’ scripture pilgrim ‘great monk’?” 

“I said quiet-”

“Sir, there’s no need for that. He was only asking a question.” Tripataka soothes, then he turns to address the pig demon. “And yes, I am Tripataka. I have been tasked by the Goddess of Mercy Guanyin to travel to the western heavens.”

Wukong was about to speak up and mention that the human probably shouldn’t go around telling any random person who asks that, but is interrupted by the pig speaking up again. “Oh this ‘s perfect! I’m Zhu Wuneng! I was told by th’ Bodhisattva I was meant t’ travel with ya!” the pig says with a gleeful smile.

There’s silence. Wukong blinks, and to his horror realizes the pig is telling the truth. 

Great, so the third disciple is some ex-celestial who got kicked out of heaven for harassing women. That’s wonderful.

Wukong audibly groans this time, shoulders slumping. 

At least he got a full night’s rest to himself before being stuck with the oaf.

-------

“Ya’ idiot! How were ya’ fooled by skin an’ a rock!” Zhu Wu- Bajie, as the monk now called him, yells at him.

“Shut up!” Wukong barks back, ears burning from humiliation.

As the two stood The two stood in front of a large rock, the skin of a tall tiger demon draped over it. The fiery aura of the tiger demon’s magic still clung to the orange pelt, perhaps that’s why Wukong had gotten confused by the pelt, his eyes having seen the aura and not realized it wasn’t actually the living demon. Neither he nor the pig had realized until Wukong’s attack with his staff broke a chunk of stone off the rock beneath, the chunk having fallen out of the pelt and into their view, but of course the Zhu was mad at him for not noticing despite having also fallen for the ploy. 

Gods, Wukong felt like an idiot. His eyes burned.

He shakes his head with a groan. “Let's just- go find our master.” Wukong grumbles, turning away from the rock. 

-------

Wukong lay on a simple bed roll, glaring up at the ceiling of the small farmers cottage they were staying the night in, praying that the damn monk hadn’t been eaten this early into their pilgrimage. At least, he would be glaring at the ceiling, but glaring is rather hard when you can’t see.  

The king was none too pleased to have had to rely on nothing but Zhu Bajie’s word, but given his current state he didn’t have much choice. 

At least the old man who ran the farm was able to give him a healing balm for his eyes.

After being knocked out by the Yellow Wind Demon’s winds he had been left quite dazed and breathless, and most notably unable to see anything. Zhu had carried him away from the battlefield. Wukong had heavily protested the need for that, but the pig hadn’t set him down so the king had resigned himself to being carried. At least he got off his aching feet.

he’d been winded enough that shortly before reaching the cottage Wukong had needed to pull away from the other demon before vomiting. Zhu had loudly complained, but shut up once Wukong threatened to vomit on him. Wukong complained when the pig told the farmers they were staying with that he was prone to vomiting every few minutes because that was clearly an exaggeration-

Wukong’s stomach rolls, he twists, gripping the edge of the bed as bile rips its way out of his throat and into the bucket below.

He heaved, breathless for a moment, before rolling back over in bed. He began to focus on Zhu’s snoring, and matching his breathing to the pig’s in order to calm his heart. Once he was relaxed again, he lets his thoughts wander once more.

It was late- or early? A few hours before dawn if he had to guess. Wukong normally would rise with the sun, but he had woken early to the feeling of vomit coming up his throat and had yet to fall back asleep, he honestly doubted he would at all. That was the third time he had thrown up his guts since waking, and he was now very grateful for the bucket he’d been given as a result of Zhu's jab at him vomiting a bunch.

His stomach continued to churn uncomfortably, Wukong felt miserable.

“Yeah, yeah.” he grumbled, moving a hand to rest on his stomach. “I know, I haven’t forgotten about you.”

How could he, when- 

cold washes over his shoulders.

Wait, he- he had kinda forgotten, wait- had the baby been hurt when he hit the ground after that wind attack? What about when they found the pig? He hadn’t paid much mind to protecting his stomach during the chase, not that his stomach was targeted from what he recalled, but still.

A quiet, sharp exhale escapes Wukong’s mouth as he pushes himself upright, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. 

There- there haven’t been any signs something was wrong, but- but there’s always the chance. He had been throwing up a lot within just the last hour or two, but mornings like that were normal when with child, weren’t they? He didn’t have any way of knowing, not right now. 

He was severely wishing he could see right now so he could check with his eyes of truth.

With unease still clinging to his shoulders, he lays back down. Rolling over, he curls in on himself, arms hugging his stomach. 

Wukong hoped the little one was fine. Sure, he wasn’t… the most happy with the situation. Frustrated, angry, confused, wary, and… curious? Hopeful? He wasn’t entirely sure, and he also wasn’t sure what he wanted to do about it. But the thought that the infant could have been harmed in a battle and he hadn’t thought to check if anything was wrong? He couldn’t help the small mix of guilt and shame gnawing at his intestines.

Until he figured this out, he’d owed the little one safety at the very least.

He’d have to ask Guanyin to check if they were hurt next time he saw them.

-------

So turns out the cottage never existed and the old farmer was a god, but it was fine. He’d just have to grill Zhu later on how to keep an eye out for gods in disguises.

Ultimately, Wukong was just glad he stopped vomiting before the pig woke up. 

And that he could see again. That was always a bonus.

Would make it easier to deal with that wind demon. All Wukong had to do now was figure out a weakness to get past that wind attack.

------- 

He had to admit, a staff that could turn into a dragon was really cool. Wukong might have to find himself one of those.

Once the demon had been reverted to his true form, a mink of all things, the rest was easy. The Bodhisattva Lingji took the mink with him when Wukong and Zhu bid farewell to retrieve their master, leaving an easy opening for the two to find the monk and free him. With the monk safe again, thankfully uninjured, they began on the road once more.

Hopefully the rest of the day would be uneventful.

…

Hey where was the horse during all this?

-------

Hours passed, they walked on and on. 

Wukong was just trying to keep focused on the dirt road ahead, hoping that if he focused on something then he would be able ignore his churning stomach, and drown out Zhu’s incessant complaining about his “feet being tired” and “needing a break” even though they stopped for a break an hour ago-  

Wukong took a deep breath in, then let it out. He really hoped the pig wouldn’t be this whiny the whole journey.

A deep sigh brings his attention up to the monk, riding a horse slightly ahead. “I hear a river up ahead, our water skins are almost empty. Once we reach the river we can stop to rest, Zhu Bajie.”

“Thank gods.” Zhu groans with sarcastic gratitude. Wukong just huffs, at least now he’ll shut up.

A few minutes later, the trees break, giving way to a clearing following a flowing river. Though perhaps flowing wasn’t the right word, it was more rushing, the current fast and turbulent. 

Tripatake slid out of Ao’s saddle, taking the waterskins from the saddle bags before urging the horse forward to take a drink from the river. The monk promptly walks over to the river himself, setting down the water skins save for one, which he opens and dips into the rich deep blue water to refill.  

Wukong turns his attention to finding a place to sit and rest his aching feet. Zhu had found himself a fallen log to the left of the path, and was sitting with his back to the wood. Ao Lie had laid himself down to the pig’s right, Zhu grabbing some fruit from the horse-dragon’s saddle bag and beginning to gorge himself on it. With a sigh Wukong waltzes over, and plops himself down on his first brother’s left, making sure to ease himself back to lean against the log when his stomach rolls uncomfortably at sitting so abruptly. Once sitting he wrapped his arms around his midsection while trying not to grimace, the ache persisting for a few moments longer. 

Despite trying not to show his discomfort, the pig beside him notices. “Huh, ya’ hungry there monkey?”

Wukong leans his head against his knees and closes his eyes. “M’ fine. And you really shouldn’t be eating all of our rations, piglet”

“Well alrigh’ then, jus’ means more for me if ya skim on breakfast an’ lunch.”

Wukong opens his eyes to the squelch sound of a fruit being bitten into, watching Zhu Bajie tear into an apricot. Wukong’s stomach grumbles instead of lurching for once. That odd desire for apricots was back. 

He sits up. ”S’ there any more of those?”

“Huh?” Zhu looks over at him, mouth still full of his last bites of food. He swallows, but a chunk of fruit is stuck on one the tusks that protrude from the corners of his mouth. “Wha’, an apricot?”

“Yeah.”

The pig turns to the bag of rationed fruit, beginning to rummage through it. “Uh, I don’t- ah! Here.” he pulls a fresh apricot from the bag, then hands it over to Wukong, who doesn't hesitate to snatch it from his hand.

The apricot is barely in his hands for even a second before Wukong sinks his teeth into the fruit’s flesh, humming as its tarty and sweet juice melts into his mouth. He savors the taste as he chews the large bite he took. He wanted his apricot to last, seeing as they likely didn’t have many left if Zhu’s appetite was anything to go off of.   

“Well, someone’s grabby-” 

SPLASH!

Wukong’s head snaps upward as Zhu and the horse startle next to them, looking towards the edge of the river where Tripataka had let out a startled yelp. The scenic riverside had shifted from lush green grass and trees to a sandy waste covered in bones, gods, how hadn’t he noticed that glamor? From the river, a massive bulky figure with cerulean blue scale-like skin and fiery red hair and beard, was looming above the great monk, what appeared to be a… shovel? In hand. Tripataka scrambles back from the water’s edge, making a break for his disciples. 

Wukong moves first, lurching forward and to his feet, moving to pull his staff from behind his ear. He stumbles, stomach suddenly rolling again at the rapid movement. 

Right. He has an infant growing in his stomach.   

An infant he promised just a few nights ago to protect, even if it became redundant in the end.

Demon fights were currently a no-go, at least until he could talk to Guanyin again.  

“Piglet!” He turns to where Zhu was now standing and begins to follow him towards the river. “Get the demon! I’ll get the monk out of here!”

“Huh? Hey, why d’ ya get t’-” 

Wukong doesn’t listen to him, instead rushing forward and grabbing hold of Tripataka’s cassock sleeve. He pulls the monk away and back towards the path, practically dragging the human as he goes. The sound of Zhu yelling insults, a horse’s furious baying, and the clanging of weapons ring in his ears from behind him.

He wasn’t too concerned with what was going on behind him; however, he was far more intent on getting the monk (and himself) a safe distance from any demon battles.   

-------

This was getting ridiculous.

Wukong hits the damn demon once and suddenly he won’t stay above water for more than five minutes. Zhu wasn’t strong enough to beat the guy, and he couldn’t fight underwater without sinking like a stone. And the horse was still a horse. 

Surprisingly, being a horse did not stop him from chewing Zhu out. 

The king sits in a clearing set back from the river, sitting around him in a circle were his traveling companions. If he listened, Wukong could hear the turbulent waters of the river through the woods. The sound of the distant roaring water did little to calm his own roaring thoughts, or his ‘brother’s’ bickering.  

Point being, they were at a loss, and they couldn’t get across the river with that demon in the way. At least the monk hadn’t gotten kidnapped this time.

Wukong’s stomach churns, the others keep arguing-

“Alright!” Wukong’s companions all snap their attention to him as he stands. “How’s about this? You all wait here, I go to the south sea, and I come back with Gaunyin’s help!” Wukong didn’t really wait for them to answer, already moving backwards to give himself space to summon his somersault cloud.

Tripataka raises a hand, as if trying to signal for him to wait. “Now hold on for a mom-”

“Good? Good! I’ll be right back.” Wukong tosses himself into the air, his feet connecting not with the solid ground but the fluffy cushion of his trusty nimbus. 

“Wait-” it’s a different voice, he doesn’t bother discerning which as he’s already shooting away towards the horizon.

-------

“Well why didn’t you say so?” the river dem- Sha Wujing said, looking rather bashful as he stood at the now calm river’s edge with his staff (which Wukong now sees is a Monk’s Spade) held at his side dormantly.

Wukong stared blankly. He was getting real sick of this too.

At least this was his fourth and final companion. No more ‘surprise I’m actually gonna be your sworn brother the next decade or two‘ demon fights. 

“Say s- wha’ d' ya mean say so!” Zhu yells, “ya attacked our master!”

“What? No I didn’t! I saw a monk on the side of the river and thought I’d ask if you were the man I was told to wait a few weeks for!”   

Wukong blinks. He lets the voices of his fellow travelers fade into the background with a shake of his head. He was so glad there wasn’t going to be anymore of this.

A hand touches his shoulder. 

he whirls around with a fist drawn back, only to stop dead when he sees Guanyin smiling down at him. “Why aren’t you jumpy?” they ask coyly.

The king turns away again with a groan. “What do you want?”

“I may have found something.”

Oh. Wukong looked over his shoulder up at the goddess, who only looked back with a sudden seriousness. “What is it?” he asks.

“It's not much, but I think I’ve found what may have caused your… delicate situation. I just need you to answer me something.”

“Go on.”

Guanyin reaches into their red robes, and pulls out a scroll. “I may have done some poking around in the labs in heaven and the archives-”

“Did you steal that?” Wukong asks bewildered.

“Borrowed.” the Bodhisattva corrects.

“For a celestial, you are full of surprises.”

“Oh hush.” They unwrap the scrolls binding and unfurl it, leaning down slightly so Wukong can peek at its writing. They point to a small sketch on the page, a lightly shaded rounded rock with twisting grooves winding around it in an odd pattern. “Have you ever seen one of these?”  

Wukong frowns at the image. “That looks like my rock?”

“Your rock?”

He nods. “My rock. I was born from a stone, it looks like that but the groove pattern is different.”  

Guanyin hums, raising back to their full height as they reroll up the scroll. “I see. Okay so, it seems that you are what we call a stone monkey, a sub-species of celestial primates which, in hindsight, explains a lot.”

“Stone monkey? Celestial primate? What exactly does that explain?” 

“Celestial primates are extremely powerful monkey demons, though they aren’t actually demons as they fall outside the natural laws of order, that are born of the elements. You were born from a rock, making you a stone monkey, who were known for their insatiable need to learn and experience the world. They were a traveling troop for that reason. At least, that’s what the scroll says.” 

Wukong takes a second, processing the information. He had always been aware that he wasn’t the same as those in his troop back home, but he hadn’t believed he would end up being that different. But there was another thing that caught his attention. “Were?” 

The Bodhisattva looks at him, and he can’t help but notice the sympathy in their eyes. “The scrolls say that almost all the celestial primates, not just stone monkeys, but all of them were wiped out in the great floods.”

“Oh.” They were both silent for a moment, Wukong slowly letting the information sink in before his mind drew up more questions. “If they were all wiped out, how am I here?” he asks slowly, looking up at Guanyin and hoping they had answers.

They look back down at him, sympathy still present in their gaze. “The scroll says that in the event of rapid population decrease, Stone monkeys were capable of reproducing asexually without a mate. This process would create a stone egg beneath the earth that a member of the troop will dig up once it is fully formed or is later uncovered by the elements. It seems you were born from a stone egg left in the latter situation. It seems likely that you were born appearing older than you were despite being an infant due to not being dug up after you were fully formed, the troop your parent was from having been lost to the great floods leaving you to slowly be uncovered by time instead.” the Bodhisattva explains. “With it being said that the egg comes from being buried beneath the earth, it seems likely that you are in the situation you are because-”

“Because being under the mountain triggered the process for a stone egg.” Wukong interrupts, eyes going a little wider in understanding. Yet, there were still more questions. “How exactly did that trigger the process though? I mean, the egg would be in me right? If the egg still needs to grow inside the parents body while also being underground, what happened to my parent. I had no parent when I was born, but I’m here with m- my egg?”

Guanyin looks down at the closed scroll in their hand, then moves to put it back into their robes. “I am not sure, this was just the first scroll I found that had anything that might have been related to your situation, but now I know what I’m looking for I’m sure I can find more answers for you. How are you doing, little one?”

“I… ” Wukong hesitates, unsure of how to answer. “I’m not sure, honestly. I- I’m still not sure what I want to do, the last few days have been so hectic that I haven’t really thought about it? Actually, I nearly forgot about the situation entirely in the chaos. I think I’m still processing everything.” he looks up at the Bodhisattva sheepishly. “... I think I need more time, and know a little more first.” 

The goddess nods. “I understand. Remember, I’m here to help you.” 

“Thank you.” Wukong says, merely nodding back solemnly. If he was being honest, their sudden shift in demeanor from their sly persona from their first encounter to this very caring kind of person made him a little dizzy, and while he appreciated the understanding it felt almost surreal. It wasn’t just the infan- stone egg that he felt uncertain about, it was practically everything in this situation.

Despite this, when Guanyin moves to leave he can’t help himself from being willing to put his trust in their hands when it comes to his stone egg, their words having reminded him of his earlier dilemma when Sha Wujing first revealed himself. “H- hey, wait!”

Turning back to face him, the Bodhisattva tilts their head curiously. “yes?” 

Wukong glanced back to where Zhu Bajie was still arguing with their newest traveling brother, the monk and Ao Lie (surprisingly not a horse at the moment) were trying to defuse the situation. They seemed thoroughly preoccupied with themselves, but Wukong would still rather not risk them seeing guanyin being magically touch-y with his stomach. He looks back to the goddess.

“Can we… step aside for some privacy? I- I need you to check something for me.”

Their eyes soften with understanding, and they gesture for him to follow as they turn to the path again. As he matches their pace, they place a hand on his back and the maternal god carefully begins to guide him further away from the others. He’s almost glad they don’t say anything as they move down the path back into the woods a slight way, the silent understanding felt more digestible than being overly doting. 

The trees grew slightly thicker, and after the road bends slightly Guanyin gestures for him to sit on a rock on the side of the dirt path. He does sit, the Bodhisattva kneels in front of him like they did when they first discovered he was with child. They remain in silence for a moment longer as some cold emotion gnaws at him from within his stomach. 

They were a maternal goddess, heavily associated with mothers, children, and compassion. How would they feel if he tells them why he needs them to check on the egg’s health? Disappointed? Wukong hardly knows Guanyin, yet the idea makes the dread pooling in his gut grow.

A delicate hand touches his knee, pulling him from his thoughts. “Are you alright, Sun Wukong?”

“Ah- heh, yeah. I just… ” he looks away, finding he can’t find himself able to look them in their eyes as some sort of shame falls upon his shoulders.    

“Did something happen?” they ask, their voice soft. His eyes burn as he nods.

“Yeah… we- uh, ran into a wind demon a few days ago. H- he never actually hit my stomach but I took a hard fall, so I- I wanted to be sure.”

He expects them to ask why he tried to fight, he expects to be told it was foolish to not just tell the pig to handle it, but they don’t. “Okay, do you mind sitting up so I can reach your stomach better?” and that was that. 

Wukong leans back, and Guanyin reaches forward to place a gentle hand on his ever so slightly swollen stomach and another hand on his side to hold him. Wukong finds it oddly comforting. Their hands glow a soft rose gold, just as they did the first time Guanyin checked him, and the warmth of their magic spreads through his body slowly, like gradually being warmed up by sitting next to a fire. He feels his body slowly beginning to untense.

His stomach still churns. He still doesn’t like the uncomfortable feeling but he can’t help but hope that maybe, the fact his stomach is still randomly doing flips is a good sign given the situation.

The moments that pass with Guanyin’s hand on his stomach feel like an eternity, and with each passing second Wukong grows more worried once more, mind somehow always circling back to the worst possible outcome despite the magic trying to make him relax into Guanyin’s hold. He never would have considered himself a very wary person before now, quite the opposite, really. He’d always seemed like he would have benefited from being a tad bit more wary, but right now the only thing Wukong is hoping for is slight reprieve from the dread slowly seeping into every crack, crevice, nook, and cranny of his body and mind. In an attempt to stave off his nerves, Wukong busies himself by watching the way the goddess of mercy’s face contorts with focus and concentration as their magic flows through him. 

Guanyin pulls their hands away, the action snapping Wukong back to reality. Wukong perks up instantly, rushing to ask at the same time that the Bodhisattva opens their mouth to speak. “So!?”

“Oh!" they jump at his suddenness, "Ah, well. I’m sure you’ll be glad to know that the egg is unharmed.”

His shoulders slump with relief, his voice comes out quiet and breathy. “Oh thank the gods.”

The goddess gives him a curious look. “This was really eating you up, wasn’t it?”

Wukong looks away again, the shame from before coming back. Still looking at the ground merely nods at them. “I- it has, yeah. I- I’ve always had a soft spot for children, back home I’d babysit the infants in the troop all the time. I’d rather be thrown in that damn furnace again than let an infant in my care get hurt. But usually it’s just that, I’m protecting an already born infant, or someone else who’s with child. They usually are able to get to safety while I draw attention, I usually don’t have to think about having the infant with me when I go into battle. So it slipped my mind. If the egg had gotten hurt even if I decide later that this isn’t for me, I don’t think I’d ever be able to live another second without playing what-if’s.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.” Gaunyin tells him softly, placing a hand on his shoulder as they move to sit next to him on the rock. “Don’t get me wrong, you very much should try and not make running into battle with an unborn infant a habit, but you are still adjusting. You’re new to this, and this wasn’t something you were expecting. Forgetting and slipping up once or twice is to be expected.”

“Yeah, but… ” 

“No buts!” The Bodhisattva interrupts. “Just try your best, and let others help you when you need it. You’ll do fine. The fact that you were so worried about the egg is testament to that already.” 

Although his head remains slightly bowed, Wukong turns his eyes to look at them, unable to help the small, fond smile that pulls itself onto his lips. 

“I hope you're right.”

“I know I am.” the goddess sings with confidence. Enough confidence Wukong can’t help but believe them.

They stay there for a few moments longer, Wukong basking in the comfortable silence and warmth of a second presence, before they decide they should head back so the others don’t clue in to their absence. They walk back in silence, though Wukong finds the quiet comforting. When they made it back to the river side clearing, they found the rest of the pilgrims had yet to notice the two had even left.

With Guanyin stepping forward to bring their bickering to an end, quick farewells were given and the Bodhisattva left them to their own devices. Thankfully, there wasn’t any more bickering after that. Quickly getting themselves sorted, it was only a few minutes before they too were on their way down the road west once more, Tripataka more than eager to get away from the mounds of decayed corpses surrounding the river.

Thank heavens for small favors, he supposes.

-------

Wukong fought to ignore the ache in his feet.

Monkey feet weren’t exactly built for walking on the ground this much anyway, but his feet also felt swollen and stiff. 

He shut his eyes, his face deepening into a frown. Next to him at a simple trot was the giant white horse-dragon, Wukong had placed a hand against the lean muscle of Ao Lie’s shoulder about two hours ago to try and keep himself balanced on his inflamed feet. His stomach ached.

His head also wasn’t doing great, he’d had a headache since waking up that morning when he’d puked up his rations from the day before. The incessant, grating garble of Zhu’s voice patters on somewhere behind him. Sha at least was quiet. Though he couldn’t tell if it was because he was actually listening to Zhu or because he was too meek to say anything to get the rambling to stop.

So here Wukong was, with a headache, an ever churning abdomen, and sore feet. Surrounded by a weak coward, a useless horse, a loud and obnoxious prick, and a single person who was tolerable and that was only because he didn’t talk.

“Monkey, are you alright?” Tripataka’s voice calls from above.

“Uh,” Wukong opens his eyes and looks up at the monk atop the white stallion, blinking before pointedly looking to the road ahead, “yeah, I’m fine.” 

“Are you certain? You seem to be troubled, Pilgrim.” Tripatake asks again with a concerned frown.   

“I am fine, mon- Master.” he hisses, standing a little straighter in an attempt to convey his point.

He wasn’t exactly keen on letting the two former celestials trailing behind him know about his current… condition, knowing the kind of headache such a conversation with those raised in heaven would likely be. He wasn’t in the mood to be talked down to or mocked at the moment. 

His stomach twists, and Wukong winces. 

Instinctively he presses a hand to his stomach, the corners of his eyes burn from the sharp pain that had suddenly sparked in his abdomen. Wukong was quick to pull his hand away, not wanting to draw attention to it, but it seems today wasn’t going to go his way. Above him Tripataka moves to speak.

“W-”

A startled yelp replaced whatever the monk had been meaning to say, as he very suddenly lurched forward, tossed straight out of his saddle as Ao Lie bucks him into the mud in front of them. Wukong freezes for an instant, caught off guard by the sudden act of rebellion from a usually very placated dragon-horse. He hears Zhu and Sha sputtering in their own surprise as he finally registered what happened as Tripataka moves to stand.

Wukong Rushes forward, a reprimand on the tip of his tongue. “What in the name of- Ao Lie! Master, are you-” 

Before he can even take three steps the horse suddenly rounds on him, making the king freeze. Ao nudges him back with his muzzle as huffs, it almost sounds exasperated. He makes an attempt to side step the horse, but he stomps his hoof before grabbing Wukong by his scarf with his mouth and yanking him back into place. Ao continues to nudge him, and Wukong takes a step back, finding his back now to the horses side. Content that he no longer had anywhere to run, the horse gestures to the saddle expectantly with his head.

Ao’s head suddenly snaps up as his reins are snagged by a still covered in mud, and rather displeased-about-it looking Tripataka. Who opens his mouth to say something but once more is cut off. Ao, for some godsdamn reason, rears up with a loud neigh, kicking legs and forcing the monk back. Tripataka wisely drops the reins and scurries away, and in his place Wukong reaches up to take the ropes, bringing Ao Lie back down.

“Easy! Easy boy!” Wukong calls, and thankfully the horse calms right down.

“Wha’ was tha’!? ” he hears Zhu ask from somewhere behind him.

Wukong pays him no mind, turning instead to the monk. “I hold the reins and him steady and you get back in the saddle, I’ll try and keep him calm ‘til we-”

He is interrupted by a loud neigh of protest as Ao Lie suddenly lays down. Ao muzzles his leg once, then nods at the saddle again. Wukong is so baffled he didn’t notice Tripataka skittishly reapproaching from the side.

“I- I think he wants you to ride, Monkey.” the monk says.

“Huh- what no, I couldn’t. He’s meant to be your horse.” Wukong protests, yanking on the reins in an attempt to get Ao on his hooves again.

The horse, pointedly, does not move.

Ao Lie raises his head to muzzle him again but instead of going for his leg the horse nudges his stomach, with the same urgency then before, but far less force. He nods at the saddle again.

Oh. 

Oh.

Like a piece of a mosaic slotting into place, Wukong realizes what must have brought this all on. The horse figured him out. And that quickly? He knew he was having a bad day, but damn. Or maybe the dragon was more perceptive then he gave him credit for, but either way, the dragon knew about the egg and was kicking up a fuss about it. If he made too much of a fuss about Wukong would be forced to tell the others what’s going on, and he can’t have that.

In a desperate attempt to get the point across, Wukong yanks up on the reins again.

Ao Lie still doesn’t move. He gives a second yank. Still nothing. Ao Lie nudges his stomach and nods at the saddle again. Wukong yanks on the reins once more

“Sun,”  Tripataka says in defeatedly, “I don’t think he’s moving until you get in the saddle.” 

“No-” yank , “he’s-” yank, “your-” yank, “horse!” Despite Wukong putting more and more strength into each pull, Ao hardly budged. hot, unshedable tears of frustration blur his vision. 

“Sun, just get on the horse.”

“But-” he protests.

“Just. get. On. The. horse. ” Tripataka’s command is accompanied by some annoyed mummering from his other two, or at least one of, his other companions. Wukong looks at the monk to find him looking thoroughly through with Wukong’s ongoing struggle. 

Wukong huffs, but wanting to get moving again he does as he’s told. He slides back into the saddle, swinging one leg over the other side of the horse's back and taking the reins. He already knows all the commands, having been Bimawen for some time up in heaven. Just as he goes to pull on the reins Ao Lie rises to his hooves once more, Wukong lets out a disgruntled snort as he jostles in the saddle. The horse pays him no mind, already moving into a content, almost smug trot.  

Looking to the side, he sees the monk has taken a brisk pace to keep up with the horse like Wukong himself had been doing earlier. He also hears Zhu and Sha moving along behind them. Listening to the clop of hooves and patter of feet Wukong feels himself unwind a little. It was nice to get off his feet, as annoyed as he was at Ao’s antics. It’s quiet for all of five seconds before one of the rhythmic beats of footsteps breaks into a faster pace and Zhu suddenly appears in the corner of his vision. The pig turns slightly to address Ao, looking rather displeased. 

“Hey, why does th’ monkey get t’ ride th’ horse huh?” Zhu demands. Wukong merely rolls his eyes at the pig. Ao doesn’t deign him with a response.

“Well if th’ monkey gets t’ ride, I get th’ next turn.” he declares.

Ao Lie shuffles to the side, bumping his shoulder against the pig and almost stepping on his cloven feet. Taking into account the horse’s not inconsiderable size, this sends Zhu stumbling backwards and away, his fuzzy pink face going red as he splutters his complaints. Wukong only snickers at the show as they continue on towards the setting sun.

Maybe Ao Lie wasn’t so bad.