Archive of Our Own

The battle was over.

MK could relax. He could go home, and not worry about anything that had transpired. Everything was okay, he managed to leave the world a little better than he found it.

…So why was he still so tense?

His shoulders wouldn’t loosen. He wasn’t even anxious or stressed anymore, it honestly felt like a huge weight had crumbled from his back, but he couldn’t get his body to unwind.

He was fine. He should be fine.

The sun was rising— had the battle really lasted until dawn?— and yet the whole group could feel exhaustion seeping into the air. They weren’t made for things like this, not yet anyways.

Pigsy, Sandy, Mei, and Mr. Tang all talked loosely about how they were getting home, what everyone needed, etc, etc. Mei kept bringing up the idea of carrying everyone back to Megapolis in her dragon mouth. MK had half a mind to sluggishly listen along to the conversation, but he had nothing to say. He was still smushed up against Monkey King’s side, and he wanted to stay there forever, actually. He could stay there until the stars burned out, and they were the last two left. His ear was against a vein. He could hear Monkey King’s pulse tapping against him, and he ran warm, like the sun.

He really wanted to stay forever.

Then something metal and jangly tapped him on the head. MK tilted his head up. “I’m teleporting us home,” Mr. Tang said with a smile. So, no dragon slobber, fortunately. “Come inside when you’re,” he gestured to him and Monkey King’s, uh, everything, “done, okay?”

There wasn’t really an ‘inside’ to go to, Mr. Tang simply walked off into the cave, chimes ringing through the cliffs with every step. There was no inside, because Monkey King’s house was gone.

MK had destroyed it, kinda.

He nudged himself into his mentor’s side a bit. “Sooo, uh. Your house kinda got destroyed.”

“Mm.”

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

“‘S okay,” Monkey King replied breezily. “People are more important than stuff, ‘nd we’re all still kicking. Not your fault, anyways.”

It certainly felt like it. He had gotten so caught up in his anger, his fear, his desperation. He’d been hurting so much, having his trust betrayed and feeling claws trying to turn him against his own mentor. Like raw wounds all the way down, he was holding his guts in his hands as he glowed gold. He felt—

“Um,” MK mumbled. “If you want, you can stay with me. In my room.”

“Wha—?” Monkey King immediately pulled away, and MK caught himself chasing the warmth that left him for a moment. “Hey, you don’t need to be less comfortable for my sake, kid! I’m used to sleeping outside, it’ll be no big deal!”

“But—”

“Plus,” he continued, gesturing a bit frantically, “I’ve got tons of little temples or whatever outside of cities and towns, I’ll be fine, really! You should get home and rest, kid, you’ve had a—”

“Would you change your mind if I wanted you to come with me?”

“...Ah…?”

“I want you to come home with me,” MK repeated.

Monkey King looked down.

“Stay with me,” MK said for a third time.

After a little fidgeting, a little mumbling, Monkey King sighed a simple, “Alright, kid.”

MK immediately sprung up and cheered, grabbing his mentor’s hand and dragging him back into the cave, away from the rising sun. Everyone was chatting quietly about nothing in particular. They seemed to have figured out that they could switch out their magic armor for their regular clothes, which, yeah, go figure. MK stayed in his tatters, because if he tried to take out his staff, then he'd have to let go of Monkey King's hand.

“Dadsyyy!” MK called ahead. 

Pigsy perked up, and got that sort of cagey look he usually got whenever MK called him his dad. Nevertheless, he responded with, “You ready to go, kid?”

MK raised his and Monkey King's held hands above their heads. “Yeah, can Monkey King sleep over? His house is mega destroyed—”

“It's a normal amount of destroyed—” Monkey King protested.

“—And I promise all of our mess will be localized entirely to the second floor!”

Pigsy looked at Tang, and Tang just shrugged. “Do whatever you want,” Pigsy replied. “I don't wanna see either’a you’se doing any hero stuff, though, you got that? You guys need to sleep.” He turned to Sandy and Mei, “Same goes for the two’a you.”

Sandy patted Pigsy on the head. “And make sure you're getting rest, too, old friend!”

Mei gave a heart-felt thumbs up. “No hero stuff til my bones stop feeling like goo!”

There were hugs goodbye, a particularly strong one given from Mei, almost squeezing the life out of MK’s ribs, wherein she gave Monkey King an enthusiastic fur ruffle right afterwards. 

When they were all ready, Mr. Tang struck the ground with his jangly staff, and through a blur of golden light, they were home.

While his fathers lamented about showers and laundry, MK yanked Monkey King forward and bolted up the stairs to his room. He showed the kitchen and the bathroom to his guest on his way up, but he had a suspicion that he wasn't really paying attention.

MK sighed when he was finally back in his room. He hadn't even realized he was homesick until the smell of home hugged his skin. Monkey King stood awkwardly near his bed as MK idly spoke. “This’ll be so fun! It'll be like, like a slumber party!” He walked over to his dresser, flicking his staff to make his clothes go back to normal (wow, surprisingly easy), and shedding his coat. He sifted through the drawers.

“Slumber party…?”

“It's like… a party, but you sleep over at a friend's house. And you watch movies and have junk food and try to stay up as late as you can—” MK turned, pajamas bundled in his arms, and saw Monkey King just blink at him in obvious confusion. “Whatever, here.” He threw some baggy clothes at his mentor, who just let them smack him in the face and fall into his arms. “Your clothes are all dirty, we can run a load of laundry, like, tomorrow. Do your clothes need special laundry settings? Or like, I mean, we'll probably have to scrub your chestplate or something. I dunno. I'm tired. You should change.”

“Okay,” Monkey King simply responded.

MK felt leagues better after he was tucked comfortably in some thick socks, basketball shorts, and a t-shirt a size too big. He yanked his headband off and threw it on the ground, because he did not care enough to lay it down on his desk. 

He heard bits of armor fall from behind him as he changed. Wrist cuffs, a feather crown, chestplate, then more sounds of fabric and ties and clasps. Really, Monkey King needed to learn about the joys of throwing on a jacket and calling something an outfit— he didn't need to have such extravagant clothes.

Then, he heard Monkey King folding all his clothes, which was probably smart, but MK couldn't be bothered to fold his own clothes. When he turned around, Monkey King was holding all of his clothes folded neatly to his chest. The tanktop and sweat pants hung off of him loosely. He looked… kinda short, actually. Was he slouching? Wait, were they the same height?

He didn't look like a king, he just looked tired.

MK silently took the clothes from him and placed them on top of his dresser, then immediately dove past Monkey King and into his bed, letting out a sigh of relief as he cocooned himself with his blankets.

“Ahh… post-apocalypse naps are the best,” he mumbled into his blanket.

“Might be a bit more than a nap,” Monkey King laughed airily, and MK heard him sit… on his squeaky desk chair…? He cracked an eye open.

“Yo, there's plenty of room on my bed, y'know.”

Monkey King was already twisting himself around to be comfortable in the chair, though, draped over the back of the chair and legs folded underneath him. “Nah, don't worry about it, kid.”

“You'll hurt your back.”

“I'll be fine.”

“We shared a bed before, in the T.E.A.”

“There weren't enough for everyone.”

“And there aren't right now, either!”

“Kid,” he flicked his forehead with his tail. “Rest. I don't want to keep you awake.”

“You wouldn't—” MK felt his brain fuzz with sleep, and he realized that arguing with Monkey King was a losing battle. “Ugh. Fine. Offer stands, though.” He rolled over, yawning and snuggling up to his monkey plush. “G’night, Monkey King.”

It was silent for a while, save for the city waking up outside his room. Right before he was completely submerged in sleep, though, he heard the faintest whisper. “Goodnight, kid.”

Then, dreamless black.

He woke up to darkness. No light creeped in from his blinds, and the only thing he could see was his little cloud lamp that he had forgotten to turn off. It glowed a soft yellow, silhouetting Monkey King, slumped over the chair, eerily still. 

MK reached over and found his hand, and promptly fell back asleep.

The second time he woke up, the afternoon was bleeding into the evening. Cars honked outside.

At some point, Monkey King had curled his hand around MK’s. Other than that, he was still dead asleep.

MK reluctantly let go of his hand with great effort, having to pry the king's fingers away. Monkey King whined and curled up tighter at the loss of contact, which. Probably meant nothing.

Since he seemed to have slept for… A day? Two days? It didn’t really matter, it was time for MK to get up and do something, since his apparent coma should’ve gotten him rejuvenated. Maybe he could even go back to work, if Pigsy opened the shop! Even if he was still exhausted, it would probably wear off, and he would really like to start moving—

Ow.

Ow ow ow ow ow.

The second MK tried to stand from his blanketed prison, every single one of his muscles screamed in protest. It felt like carrying rocks strapped to his back up a mountain, multiplied by a million. Dizziness overtook him, and he involuntarily slumped back into his bed.

So. ow.

His feet hurt. His arms hurt. His fingers hurt, protesting whenever he flexed them beyond the circumference of his staff, which wasn’t a feeling he had since he had first started training with it. His neck hurt, and he could vaguely recall an ink version of DBK slamming him into a wall. Eesh. Probably bruised. He tried to figure out why his spine, and specifically his tailbone, hurt like hell, and then realized; right. The whole monkey form thing. He was fully growing an extra limb, huh?

Everything burned. Standing burned. Every muscle in his body felt like they had been left out in the sun for too long and got rotted and mushy.

But he tried again anyway, pushing himself off the bed with screaming wrists that begged for mercy. Back on his feet, he stretched, feeling a concerning amount of pops radiate through his body. He stretched, going over memorized routines, until he could feel a small amount of the pain ebb.

He tried to let his body work without him as he went through the motions of chores. He gathered up his clothes, and the clothes of Monkey King’s that didn’t feel like they needed an ultra-delicate cycle, and tossed them in the washing machine. And, god, that one task made MK want to just collapse and die forever. No reincarnation for him, thanks, he needed an eternity to feel even half-recovered.

But he kept pushing, throwing off his clothes and stepping into the shower because, uh, yeah, he had been made very aware of the stink that was following him around ever since he got home, like ink and dried sweat. And even though everything hurt and he just wanted to lay back down, getting all the grime off of his body and feeling the steam relax his muscles was nothing short of heavenly, and he dried himself off after feeling marginally accomplished and ready to go back to bed.

Like the morning after the battle, it wasn’t even dark out. It was probably around rush hour, if the loud honking and bustling streets were anything to go by. But MK found that he still didn’t care as he tugged his clothes back on and walked back to his bed. His brain was moving fast, wanting to do something, to work, to fight, to do anything, but his body kept yanking him back down.

Before he could flop back down to his mattress, he caught a glimpse of Monkey King's pinched brow, with his cheek resting in his folded arms. MK wasn't sure if he had woken up at all, but… it really didn't look like it. He kind of assumed he would’ve woken up and left in the night.

He tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, Monkey King?” he whispered.

Nothing.

He booped him on the nose. “You look uncomfortable. Can I move you to my bed?”

Drowsy eyes fluttered open for a moment, and he made a little noise and waved his hand. Then he was dead asleep again.

Whatever, screw it. Without much effort, MK lifted him up by the armpits like a cat, and situated him on the bed. He very clearly relaxed instantly, curling in on himself with a sigh.

MK smiled and crawled into bed next to him. It was a little bit crowded, but it didn’t cause nearly as much discomfort as Monkey King seemed to think it would’ve. Still, he kept a gap between the two, crammed toward the edge of the bed, and let himself rest, now that he felt less gross and painful.

He probably only got an hour or two of sleep, that time. The room was clouded with something that smelled good, accompanied by the door to the stairwell clicking. MK propped himself up on an arm— it hurt so much less— and listened to the light footsteps. “Mr. Tang…?” he groggily called out.

Mr. Tang stopped and leaned back into the room. “MK? Oh, did I wake you?” He walked over to the bed. “Sorry, I was trying to be quiet… Pigsy made dinner, and we hadn’t seen you come out of your room since yesterday, so I—” He cut off his nervous ramblings, sighing a little. “How are you feeling?”

MK looked to his desk at the steaming bowl of noodles left for him, and was suddenly hit with a wave of nauseating hunger. He eagerly sat up fully and grabbed at the bowl, talking through mouthfuls. “Feelin’ hungry.” He giggled. “No, uh— I’m okay. Just sore, mostly. And tired.” He swallowed. “And hungry.”

“And… Monkey King?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t seen him awake. Or move, actually. Should I be worried about that?”

Mr. Tang crouched down at the side of the bed, looking intently at the two of them. “It’s… probably fine.” Which is what MK had been telling himself about most things recently, so it tracked. Tang laughed, then, and MK raised a brow. “It’s just— You basically have a natural disaster sleeping in your bed. I find it funny, is all. Especially with how much you fanboyed over just meeting him not that long ago.”

“You also geeked out.”

He coughed. “I don’t exactly see how that’s relevant.”

It was weird, though. There was a natural disaster sleeping right next to him. Monkey King had leveled cities, mountains, even, in the past. He could probably destroy everything within a ten mile radius with the flick of his wrist right now, if he was awake. Powerful like a burning sun. MK had idolized him, the power he held, but all he could feel looking at his sleeping mentor now was a deep relief. Relief that he was okay, and there. MK could reach out and touch him. He wasn’t gone anymore.

Mr. Tang stood. “Well, I’m gonna go back to laying in the dark. You know that using too much magic at once causes newer, more interesting kinds of migraines?”

MK winced with empathy. “Eesh, yeah. Can’t imagine how bad it is for you now.”

He received a strained smile from that. “Call downstairs if you need anything, alright?”

“Got it.”

With that, Mr. Tang left.

Luckily, MK didn’t need anything, so he wouldn’t have to bother his dads with anything that would deter them from their own rest, and he was determined to keep it that way. When he finished his noodles, he set the bowl back on his desk and fell back into bed. He let himself be a little bit closer to Monkey King this time, turning on his side to look at him.

Dead asleep, like a ragdoll. His natural disaster status wasn’t going far beyond a light rain, currently. MK closed his eyes, content to sleep next to the storm.

Then he woke up to the sound of clasps being fiddled with.

MK did a little self-check as his consciousness returned. He was considerably less sore, and barely less tired than he was the last time he was awake. Y’know, whenever that was. He opened his eyes to find Monkey King perched on the windowsill next to the bed, trying to open the window and failing rather miserably. His tired fingers fumbled with the lock.

A jolt of frostbitten panic shot through MK’s spine. Even if it was out of his own volition, he didn’t want Monkey King to leave. He didn’t want to be alone. He had been without his mentor too many times, and he wanted to leave that losing streak behind, the thought of Monkey King being gone again making him feel dizzy with fear. He didn’t trust himself to explain that, though, so he ended up reaching out and grabbing Monkey King’s tail.

The king in question flinched in surprise. He was… unkempt. For a second, he forgot to put up the wall behind his eyes. “Uh— kid! Good morning! Or— uh, afternoon? Could you help me with this window?”

MK blinked. “Where are you going?”

“Back home,” he mumbled. “I didn’t— I forgot to check on my troop. I need to make sure everyone’s okay. Gotta live up to being a king, right?” He fidgeted, looking down like he was ashamed of something. “Where’d you put my clothes?”

On dully aching limbs, MK pushed himself up and let his legs drop down over the edge of the bed. “Threw ‘em in the wash,” he said as he stood. “Here, I’ll come with you! Post-nap field trip!” He slipped on sandals and blindly reached into his dresser, grabbing a black hoodie that was easily two sizes too big, and a fluffy jacket. He threw the jacket in Monkey King’s direction and pulled on the hoodie, before walking over to his desk and jotting down a quick note just in case Pigsy or Mr. Tang tried to check in on them.

“Are you sure? You should probably rest—”

“It’s fine, we can go together—”

“You don’t have to—”

“Oh my god.” MK climbed onto his bed and elbowed his mentor aside, opening the window with ease. “I want to.”

Monkey King gave him this… look. He had bags under his eyes, still. He wasn’t sitting up straight. The breeze softly floated in from outside.

“Okay,” he said, turning back to the window with a pinch in his brow. His cloud was already waiting for them, and Monkey King hopped on like second nature. MK hopped on, slightly less like second nature. He closed the window behind them, and they were off.

They drifted calmly through the sky, the sun peaking out from the clouds. MK leaned his weight into Monkey King's side sleepily, trying to shrug off his tiredness.

There was still tension strung up in his shoulders, and being this close to his mentor, he could feel that he wasn't alone. They had fought so hard, had somehow managed to keep the world together, but coming out the other side of a disaster like that felt like the aftermath of hiking through hail, bruised up with ice crystal slices in the skin. It felt like deep, still-bleeding wounds. They had spat at death's shoes once more, and the ensuing power-high was long gone. He swore that even the cloud felt tired under them.

And yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more. There was something that he was missing.

A hairline fracture worked its way through his skin.

He didn’t need to worry about it yet, though. He knew that he could rest, now. And he knew that, with Monkey King next to him, everything would be okay.

They arrived on Flower Fruit Mountain after their leisurely flight, landing right at the edge of the beach. The whole mountain looked… worse for wear. Monkey King immediately set out, walking with purpose, and MK followed close behind. “Uhh, I know an apology won’t fix it, but… I am sorry about all this.” Guilt flooded his chest at all the fallen trees and crumbled cliffs they passed by as they trekked through the beach.

Monkey King waved a hand. “I already told you, it’s no big deal. I mean—” He inspected a tilted tree, half-uprooted. But its roots were completely intact, and with a simple nudge, he was able to push it back into the ground and do a little bit of light pruning to make sure its roots were settled back into the dirt. “—it’s not great. ‘S kinda why I wanted to train you with your new form.”

MK’s brain halted at the mention of. That.

He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to remember the– the thing in his chest, the thing that was burning gold and screaming to be let out.

The fear. The anger. The desperation.

“But if you didn’t mess up my home, then Azure would’ve.” He turned to MK and put a hand on his shoulder, eyes shining. “Heck, I’m proud of you, kid! Those were some serious punches you were packing! And the… what’s that word you used for it… the big guy?”

“Kaiju?”

“Yes! Your big monkey kaiju!” He shook MK’s shoulder, maybe for emphasis, but it honestly looked like it was out of sheer giddiness. “He had three tails! He was huge!”

MK chuckled. “Okay, okay, I get it. I just… I dunno. I feel bad. And the whole mystic monkey thing is…” He tried to find any words to describe it, and came up short. “Well, it’s not. Great.”

Monkey King hummed acknowledgement, giving him a little squeeze before releasing him and continuing their walk. He busied himself with looking through bushes, fallen branches, boulders, even feeling the dirt between his fingers in some places. MK wasn’t sure if there was a method to his madness, but he was just content to watch as he did… whatever he was doing. “Flower Fruit Mountain’s been through quite a bit. Trust me, this is not the worst its looked.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. You think my enemies never came knocking on my door to fight?” He lifted a boulder out of a small river with ease, letting the water flow through and smashing the boulder to bits. “There was this— ugh, this guy— after our rebellion, one of the members of the celestial army came in and burned everything to the ground, the jerk.”

“What?!”

“It was, uh—” Monkey King sifted his fingers through the river, looking at something in it. “I mean, we were at war. And also it was, like, the 7th century, or something. It was way more common to destroy enemy territory after a victory back then, but I’m pretty sure Erlang did it just to be a dick.”

“Oh. Wait, Erlang? As in Erlang Shen?”

“Yeah! You’ve heard of him?”

MK recalled that quite a few of Mr. Tang’s excited ramblings included Erlang. And also struggling to draw his dog for his unauthorized Monkey King biography. “In a sense.” They continued past the river further into the forest, closer to the heart of the mountain. Things started getting rockier, and their altitude increased, the clouds growing near. “So, then what happened? It’s obviously not burnt, now.”

“That was a couple thousand years ago, kid, plants always regrow. Eventually. Even after disasters. But, I did borrow a little divine water from the Dragon Kings to get everything green again and reverse a lot of the damage.”

“Borrowed, or stole?” MK teased.

The thief put his hands up in defense. “Borrowed! I had a reputation, no one said ‘no’ to the Great Sage!”

“So, you threatened them?”

“...Maybe a little?”

MK laughed.

“Just a little!”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Monkey King huffed and looked like he was about to protest, when something white and fluffy barreled into his side. Then another, and a third, all clinging to him. “Woah! Hey, miss me much?” he cooed at his little subjects. They all made happy chirps of confirmation, crawling all over him. In a hilarious display, he tried extracting himself from his monkeys’ holds, and only achieved the incredible feat of looking quite stupid as the attempt became a game of wack-a-monkey. MK snickered and quickly snapped a photo. “Traitor,” his mentor grumbled with a smile on his face.

A few other monkeys came out from the trees and bushes, all excited to greet their king, chirping loudly. MK couldn't understand their chirping, but after getting his monkey form, it sort of… made sense? He didn't know what they were saying, but felt a vague indication of the idea they were trying to get across. Most of the chirps he was hearing were of excitement, relief, and scolding.

Monkey King plucked one monkey from the ground, holding them up to eye-level. “Is everyone accounted for?”

They chirped in confirmation.

“Good, good.” He set them down and let the monkeys climb all over him. “And no one’s seriously injured?”

More chitters, this time a little less confident. Monkey King nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “That’s all we could hope for,” he responded. A weight looked like it was lifted from his eyelids. “I’ll check in on them. Everyone who can should focus on rebuilding the bridges between peaks and any of your homes that can be salvaged. But make sure there’s still people tending to those with injuries, no matter how minor.”

A few monkeys chirped as if to say, “You got it, boss!” and scurried off, while others stayed, clinging to their king.

He looked up at the highest peak of the mountain. “If you need a lot of medical help, try to call on Macaque— I’m sure he’ll be able to hear you. And get here faster than I could.”

Some extra nods and chitters of agreement, and the king continued their path forward, taking note of things MK didn't understand the importance of.

More monkeys continued to trail them as they continued on, following the rivers and rubble. A couple even climbed onto MK, picking at his hair. “Hehe. I think your little guys missed you,” MK said.

Monkey King huffed a laugh. “I think they missed us both.”

“Well, we'd better get back to training sooner than later, then! Gotta have an excuse to come up here and get distracted by your subjects.”

“Hah, yeah.” He was turning over the remains of what was probably once a lantern, but then suddenly stopped. MK couldn't really see his whole face, but he could see his eyebrows furrow. “Wait, you—?”

MK waited a second for him to continue, and when the only sounds he heard was of the wind blowing by, he prompted, “I…?”

It was only a fraction, but Monkey King turned just a bit towards him. “You… you want me— still want me to be your…?”

And with the little glance he got from him, MK could tell the sentence wasn't going to be finished. That was okay, it didn't need to be. “I already said,” MK emphasized, a little baffled, “I'm not ready to not have a mentor. And I want you to stay with me, I— what, do you think I followed you into the scroll for no reason? Do you think I found you by accident?”

Monkey King's eyes widened a little, and then he turned back forward, bringing a hand up to his face. MK could see him wipe at his eyes, and he wasn't sure if he was crying, but he looked away to give him a second. But he took a second, and he took a few extra more, and MK decided to step next to him and give him an encouraging little shoulder bump. Monkey King almost immediately reciprocated by linking an arm around his shoulder and pulling him into a side hug, still looking away at the ground. They stayed like that for a little bit, a few of his mentor's subjects nuzzling up to the two of them in excitement of what they thought was cuddle time.

Then he was released, and Monkey King cleared his throat. “I’ll wrap up quickly,” he said. “Then you can go back home and rest.” He already started walking again with such conviction you’d think he was trying to prove a point.

“And you’ll come with me, right?”

“Right,” he replied easily.

The rest of their little field trip was pleasant. The sun started to break through the clouds, though sunset was fast approaching, and the sky was painted purples and magentas. Eventually, after Monkey King found where all of his injured subjects were resting and gave them all a little bit of care and some big hugs, they set off back to the city. Since Monkey King flew them there, MK insisted it was only fair that he flew them back on his own cloud.

Seeing home getting closer from the distance only served to remind him how exhausted he still was, and sitting on his heavenly-soft cloud wasn’t really helping with that. When they flew up to the window, MK undid its latches and fell right onto his bed, kicking off his sandals haphazardly. The warm air from inside chased away the cooling temperature they were flying through. Monkey King closed the window behind them, sitting on the bed next to him and carefully folding up his borrowed jacket. He handed it to MK, a question on the tip of his tongue, while MK elegantly grabbed the jacket and threw it to the ground. Because, whatever. He wrestled his hoodie off and discarded it to the ground, too— he could clean his room again another day. He could care another day. He was too tired to care right now.

“I would offer, like, food or something, but I feel like I'm gonna pass out. So…”

“Heh, don't sweat it, kid. Don't worry about me too much, got it?”

“Mmn.”

MK squirmed until he was bundled under his blankets, all cozied up with his monkey plush. He could feel where the mattress was dipped behind him, where Monkey King was still sitting awkwardly. “…Uh, should I—”

“Sleep,” MK said and yanked on his mentor's arm.

“Okay, okay, jeez!” There was a bit of shuffling, until Monkey King gingerly laid down on the bed. They weren't even close to touching, so he must've been all pressed up against the window. “Happy?”

“Very.”

He laughed, low and unguarded. “Glad to hear it. Goodnight, MK.”

“Night night.”

Wake up.

He couldn't stop—

Wake up.

It was burning inside of him, he couldn't stop—

His head hurt, everything hurt, and his heart—

Wake up.

Fingers clawing at his chest, he needed to make it stop, he needed to go back to normal, it was going to burn him alive—

IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP.

His heart was thundering in his chest as he gasped awake, muscles twitching into sudden consciousness. The fact that he was in his room and not still there, on the battlefield, slammed into his brain all at once. His cloud lamp glowed softly. Gold light chased the fuzz of darkness away.

MK forced his breathing to slow, counting his breath until his lungs were forced to cooperate and his body stopped pulsing with his heart beat.

Well. He did say that the scroll's curse was gonna haunt his nightmares. He just thought he'd have a little more time til it happened.

He decided that he may as well grab some water while he was awake, get up to clear his head, whatever. And he did try to get up, but he quickly discovered that he had two fuzzy arms firmly looped around his shoulders. He turned a little to see Monkey King was in fact asleep, but must’ve gotten himself all tangled up around MK while unconscious. The baffling part was just how little give there was— MK could barely sit up an inch before heavy, stone arms forced him back down. The weight across his chest was comforting. He closed his eyes.

…

And promptly opened them when he felt his blood splinter gold for a second.

So, no sleep. Got it.

It was nice to have Monkey King so close. He spent so long chasing after him in more ways than one, that having him right next to him, so close that MK could feel his warmth— it was a luxury that he wanted to savor. It probably would’ve been nicer if he could, y’know, actually stay asleep. But he wasn’t very picky, he would take what he could get.

MK always thought that he was… too much, for lack of a better term, as a successor. He worried that he was too eager, too clingy, too emotional. He didn’t think about his hug habits very often; hugs were great! They were soft and warm, and he could give them for free! But sometimes he was worried he was just an annoying kid that bothered his mentor, and that any reciprocation was simply begrudging indulgence.

Which is to say, Monkey King’s iron grip on him forced all those thoughts out. He thought he was the clingy one, but he was currently being beat out on that front. Monkey King had managed to curl his tail around MK’s calf, he noticed. Being clingy was a monkey thing, right? He had seen some of the members of the troop sleeping sometimes, all curled up together in a big tangle of white fluff. Even the little guys they had found in the scroll had instantly stuck to Macaque like glue the second they were within grabbing range.

And, dang, MK was also a monkey, now. Or, always had been one. Maybe that’s why he was super okay with the current situation. He’d always been big on physical contact, maybe more than most, but it seemed so extreme in comparison to his peers. Except for Mei, of course, but she was always chill like that. Anyways, while he was content to soak up all the warm fluffiness that cuddling brought, he was actually super bored. His remote for his TV was all the way at the end of the bed, his phone was out of reach on his desk, and all of his books and comics were too high up on the shelf above him to reach. How the heck was he gonna go to the bathroom if he needed to?

It kinda sucked. Not the cuddling part, of course, it was just. His arm was sort of falling asleep. If he were to hazard a guess, Monkey King had rolled over onto his outstretched arm to get a hold of him. And it was kind of impressive, honestly, because it took quite a bit to cut off his circulation, due to the whole stone monkey thing. In retrospect, it explained a lot of things, like how he sank like a rock whenever he tried to swim. And being a chronic climber. Pigsy had told him multiple stories from when he was a kid, climbing up high and then being too scared to come down.

…God, he was so bored.

He tried to fall asleep a couple more times, but he stopped after an attempt made his form flicker while he was half unconscious, and Monkey King had shifted irritably. The seconds melted together, and he wasn’t sure if it had only been mere minutes of laying in the dark or multiple hours, but, ugh, it felt like days.

After a truly torturous amount of time, when the sun was hanging lazily over the horizon, he heard a tapping at the window to the fire escape, and slitted eyes looking in expectantly. He waved a hand. It was already unlocked.

Mei climbed in a bit clumsily, holding a bag over her shoulder and looking marginally less tired than how MK felt. Her hair wasn’t done up in pigtails like it usually was, leaving thick black hair to fall messily over her shoulders. She shut the window hard before any cold air got in. In lieu of greeting, she asked, “Do you still keep ibuprofen in your bathroom?”

“Uh, yeah. You good?”

She made a dismissive gesture as she made a beeline for his bathroom door. There was the sound of shuffling, pill bottles rattling, and rushing water, and Mei was back after barely ten seconds, probably breaking the record for “ibuprofen taken in the shortest amount of time.”

Oddly specific, but it might exist.

She was wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her stained hoodie as she flopped down onto his desk chair. “Sorry ‘bout that. I didn’t realize I was so low on pain killers until I was already out, and— ugh. That dragon-spirit-thingy does some really cool things to my joints.”

“Like make them hurt?”

“Yup. Anyways, how’s it hanging, Monkey Man?” She spun in the chair, and saw the situation MK was currently tangled up in. A ginger-furred situation. “Oh. Monkey Men, I guess. He asleep?”

“Dead,” MK confirmed. Completely dead asleep, he hadn’t even twitched the whole time MK was awake. “I’m doing okay, I think. I mean, all things considered. I get what you mean about the joints stuff, I only had my big guy out for a few seconds, and I could barely move afterwards.”

“And your big guy was awesome by the way!” A little bit of her sparking enthusiasm leaked through her apparent exhaustion. “Did he have three tails, or was I just imagining things?”

“It did,” MK replied, eager to change the subject. “How are you holding up?”

“Eugh,” she answered with a lot of feeling. “I got up to do stuff yesterday cuz I was sick of not doing things, but I still feel like my bones are made of goo. Checked in on Sandy, and he's doing good. Or, I mean… at least as good as he could be doing, y'know?” She plucked out a small box from her bag and put it on the desk. “Said to give you some tea, too! And I got my own tea. And he said we can come over to hang out and be with his foster cats whenever we want.”

“Man. Sandy's the best.” He remembered getting quite a bit of mileage out of relaxing with Sandy's therapy cats that he fostered after Lady Bone Demon was defeated. Nothing like having a bunch of little fluffy creatures purr all over him when he was upset. And hey, maybe with the sleepy time tea, he could actually get some sleep!

“We don't deserve him.”

“Not even a little.”

Mei rummaged through her bag a bit more, pulling out a— fuck, not the first ait kit— “Alright, I know your sorry ass hasn't taken good enough care of yourself. C'mon, Monkie Man, sit up.”

“Need I remind you that I'm stuck?”

“Then sit up with him!”

“I can't— ugh, hang on.”

MK shimmied and maneuvered around, managing to get Monkey King's arms slung over his shoulders, stomach pressed against his back and chin resting on the base of his neck. It was hardly comfortable, but he was able to sit up straight for Mei.

She snickered at the sight. “Stylish cape, dude.”

“Thank you, it's authentic Monkey King fur!”

The first aid kit wasn't really a first aid kit, not a professional one in any sense of the word. But when MK and Mei started doing hero stuff together, and training fairly rough, she put her own little kit together, adorned with colorful stickers, because MK was, apparently, too clumsy of a friend to not have a first aid kit.

Harsh, but entirely fair.

The light of the rising sun probably made it easy to tell where the worst of his injuries were. The first thing Mei did was grab his face, fingers and thumb digging into either of his cheeks, and put some kind of goopy stuff on his forehead, where an almost-black bruise sat. “Where the heck did this one come from?”

“Uhh… yeah, I kinda slammed my head into Azure's sword, like, a billion times.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

Everyone was so messed up after the fight, the injury just blended in with his others, but dang, if he didn't think he concussed himself for a bit.

Mei continued to work methodically, finding the worst bruises on his arms and legs, and had him lift his shirt so she could get the ones on his ribs. She even managed to get around Monkey King's arms to get the ones strung around his neck. He wasn't entirely sure what the gunk was supposed to do, but Mei had way more knowledge about this stuff than he did, so he trusted that whatever she was doing would help.

Then, she plucked a few big bandaids out of her kit, smacking them onto the worst of the scabs on his body.

“If they're scabbed over, do I really need bandaids?”

“No,” Mei replied, “but I also don't trust you to not pick at them, so.”

“Wha—!” His retort died on his tongue. “Yeah, okay, fair…”

Once Mei was satisfied with her work, she clicked her little first aid kit closed and put it back in her bag, slumping back down onto the squeaky desk chair. Silence hung in the air for a few minutes.

“Was mad at you,” Mei said to the ceiling. “Y’know, for flying away like you did. Still am kinda mad, honestly.”

MK dipped his head down, closer to Monkey King’s arms. “Consider it payback,” he mumbled.

Mei laughed quietly. “Alright, yeah.”

And he could apologize, but it wouldn’t be the truth. Because the truth was, really, that he wasn’t that sorry about it. He left them, and he was alone, yes, and it felt like being skinned alive and bleeding out on the cold stone cliffs he landed on. But it was so, so much better than the potential he had to hurt the people he cared about.

The ones he had left.

“It all worked out in the end,” Mei said, finally. “So I’m not gonna be too upset about it, y’know, just—” she punched his arm lightly— “warn a gal next time you get a scary new form, ‘kay?”

“I’m hoping to cap out at just one, thanks.”

“Hehe. I’m gonna have to learn how to turn into a dragon for realzies to catch up with ya, Monkie Kid!”

“Ooh, imagine how badass we’d look together!”

“Right?!” Mei kicked at the ground to spin around in the chair. “Anyways sooo, Mister Monkey King’s been staying with you?”

“Yup.” MK smiled— he couldn’t help it. He had his mentor back, and he was right there, and he was currently wearing him like a backpack. No one could take Monkey King from him if he had a vice grip on MK. 

“Has he been asleep this whole time?”

“Yeah— or. Mostly. He woke up, uh, yesterday, I think? I dunno, the days are kinda blending together. And we went to Flower Fruit Mountain to check on his little baby monkeys.”

“Oh no! Are they okay?!”

“Everyones alright, don’t worry.”

“Phew. Those little monkeys are so adorable… Monkey King better be ultra nice to them for being so helpful!”

MK giggled. “He is, he is. Um… I’m kinda worried about him, though. He's kinda… I dunno, far away? He seems sad. I guess.”

“Aw, poor Monkey King…” She gave the sad king in question a playful pat on the head. “I'm sure being with you'll cheer him up.”

“Wha…? Why—”

Monkey King stirred, finally after an entire night and then some of being passed out. Sleepily, he reached a clumsy hand in Mei's direction. “Ao Lie…?” he mumbled.

“Uh, no,” Mei stuttered. “Just me. Just Mei.”

“Oh…”

And then his weight was fully slumped back into MK, any sign of consciousness gone.

That… didn't really paint a good picture. MK hadn't really considered what Monkey King had seen in the scroll, but… maybe even the good memories were painful.

Y'know, considering.

“Did you meet him?” MK asked. “In the scroll.”

“Yeah.”

“Was he cool?”

“Mega cool. Kinda ditzy, though.” She fidgeted with the hem of her hoodie. It was one that she's had since high school. Its teal hue was faded and washed with time. “We don't look that similar. Like, you could tell that we're related, I think, but not that much.”

The end of the sentence was left dangling, and MK waited for her to continue.

“…Our dragon forms look exactly the same, though.”

She didn't elaborate on that point; didn't need to.

Monkey King was surrounded by the faces of his dead friends. There was no way it was easy, especially with everything that happened lately.

Mei's phone buzzed just then, cutting through the thick emotion hanging in the air. She fumbled, pulling it out of her pocket and unlocking it, holding it up to her ear. “Mom! Hi! I said I was gonna be out today, remember?”

There were some crackling, muffled words from the other end. Conference? MK mouthed to her.

She nodded.

This early?

She rolled her eyes. Tell me about it.

“No, no I can be there. I was just with MK, he's— yes, he's doing okay, I was just visiting, and— …yes, yes, I know, I can be home in, like, fifteen?”

MK picked at his cuticles, disappointed that Mei was leaving, but just a tiny bit relieved. He was still tired, he still needed to rest.

“Yep, you got it. Alright. Love you too, bye.” She set down the phone and sighed heavily.

“You could've made up an excuse,” MK pointed out.

“Yeah. But… Eh, I dunno. I've been trying to spend more time with my parents after the whole,” she made a rotating motion with her hand, “apocalypse stuff.”

“Which one?”

She cackled at that. “Man, I'm gonna start losing track at this point! But, uh, specifically with the whole deal about the Samadhi Fire stuff. Generational curses are a great opportunity for family bonding, in my opinion. But my folks are always busy doing work junk, and since I'm their “heir” or whatever, I need to go.”

“Mm.”

“I'll come back!” she added hastily. “Um, probably tomorrow? Maybe a little longer… But I will!”

“M’kay. Have fun with your boring work stuff. Oh, and can you toss me my phone?”

The phone was tossed. Mei smiled, saluted. “Catchya later, Monkie Man.”

Mei hopped out through the window, and the room was quiet again.

With a little bit of struggle, MK was able to get himself and Monkey King back to being horizontal on the bed, but this time he had his phone to keep him company in the yawning silence of the room, while all his limbs were being weighted down to his bed by a clingy monkey.

He managed to doze off a few times, at the very least, but he was always woken up by the memories of a long-over battle.

“Kid—”

“No! You're stinky!”

“I'm not that stinky!”

MK continued to fruitlessly yank at Monkey King's arms. “Yes you are! You smell like dirt and ink and smoke and it's gross!”

“I can just leave then—?”

“No! Then you won't get clean at all!”

“Kid,” he said sternly, a grimace on his face. He pulled his arms away easily. “I'm fine, you don't need to do… whatever it is you're trying to do to me.”

“‘Need to—’? Wh— do you think I—”

“Plus,” he continued, “Monkeys don’t groom their own fur most of the time. So.”

MK scrunched his brows up. Leave it to Monkey King to not ask at all for anything he needed, seriously. “Then I can wash your fur for you? Why didn't you say that in the first place?”

“I—”

“Here!” MK yanked a pair of pajama shorts that he rarely wore from his dresser and threw them at him. “You can sit in the shower while I wash you— or, groom you, you said? I'll go turn the water on!”

“But, kid—”

“Don’t worry, Mei did this for me after I got top surgery, it'll be great! And you'll feel better once you're not all gross.”

“Top what?”

“Come to the bathroom when you're ready okay byeee!”

Before Monkey King could wiggle his way out of it, MK shut the bathroom door, listening to the confused stutters that sounded from outside. He would feel bad if he wasn't sleeping next to Monkey King every night and had to bear the brunt of the smell. And his poor bedding didn't deserve having that stench rubbed into 24/7, either.

He threw down some towels in front of his shower, and grabbed a foldable stool from the cabinet, popping it open and placing it on the floor of the shower. He turned the water on, letting it run and heat up while he grabbed the showerhead off of the latch it was settled in.

The smelly man of the hour entered after a few minutes with tangled up fur all over and— wait, did he have a heart shaped marking on his chest?! And, uh, quite a few scars. He had already seen the ones on his arms, of course, but…

“I have no idea how you roped me into this,” Monkey King mumbled as he took his seat on the stool.

MK grinned. “I'm your favorite student, that's how.”

“You're my only student.”

“I win by doing nothing, then! That'd be a first, huh?” He stepped into the shower as well, standing behind his mentor and turning the showerhead towards his back. Monkey King visibly tensed. “Too hot?”

“‘S fine,” he replied.

He let the hot water soak through his fur, watching as the muddied auburn became soggy and dark with moisture. It couldn't be comfortable being all soaked with fur, especially with how thick it was— must get all heavy, right? Oh, wait, he also could have fur, now. Ugh, he was probably gonna have to wash it at some point. That would be a fun adventure for later.

Once Monkey King looked like he was melting with how drippy his fur was, MK turned off the water and grabbed his shampoo from the shelf. Peach scented, of course, because MK was a predictable man.

MK got to work lathering Monkey King's fur, starting with his head. He didn't say anything when Monkey King sighed, relaxing his shoulders and leaning just a fraction into the touch. MK wished he could relax half as much.

When his head, back, and shoulders were full of soap, MK turned the shower head on and got to work washing away the dirt embedded into the fur. The water pooling at his feet became a reddish brown as dried blood, dirt, and chunks of rock were relieved from his fur.

“Tilt your head back,” MK said. “Tryin’a not get soap in your eyes.”

Monkey King complied, tilting his head up so MK could continue to wash his fur. When the water ran clear, he turned it off again, and leaned over to grab the conditioner, putting him face-to-face with Monkey King, still looking up. To dispel the tension in the room, he booped Monkey King's little monkey nose, and gave him a cheeky grin as he pulled back and uncapped the bottle. He heard him snort a laugh— mission accomplished!

“I dunno how to clean fur, so I'm just doing it like my hair. Is that bad? should I be doing something else?” Either way, he finger combed the conditioner into the auburn fur.

“It should be fine. Usually you're supposed to pick at it to search for bugs.”

“Right, right… You've done that to me before. You're so fussy, but you don't fuss over yourself at all.”

Monkey King seemed just tired enough, and just out of it enough, that he mumbled to himself, “Starting to sound like Master…”

“You'll have to give me, like, a new kinda training,” MK not-replied, giving his mentor an easy out for the sentence that managed to slip out.

“Huh?”

“Like, monkey training! Teachin’ me how to be a monkey… cuz I am one. You can teach me how to groom your fur properly, and make those little, uh, those chirping sounds? That the little guys make?”

“You wanna learn monkey language?”

MK shrugged. “Maybe. Am I gonna have to ride on your back like those baby monkeys do?”

Monkey King laughed, properly laughed, fully. The image was funny in his own head, too, his arms hooked around his mentor's neck, legs dangling limply— they were the same height, it wouldn't work at all.

“No way, kid, you're too big for that. You're just trying to get piggyback rides outta me.”

“And what of it?” MK asked, who wasn't actually doing that, but being carried around didn't sound half bad.

“Plus, that sort of thing is for moms and their babies. And last I checked, I'm not your mom, and you're not a baby.”

And then that brought up the question that he hadn't bothered with since they'd gotten out of the scroll. If they come from the same stone, then what does that make them?

Who even reforged the stone in the first place? Did Monkey King know?

…Did MK even want those answers?

No, he decided, he didn't, and blasted the back of Monkey King's head with hot water. The king gave an indignant yelp of surprise, jolting hard and shooting MK a mean glare. MK simply smiled and pointed the showerhead at his face.

“Augh, okay, okay! Mercy for your poor old mentor!” he said through a face full of water.

“Blehhh.”

“Menace.”

When MK was finished washing Monkey King's fur, all the conditioner dripping away through the drain, he was able to run his fingers through his fur without getting caught on any tangles or coming up with brown gunk on his hand. Monkey King even looked more… relaxed? Not fully okay, not by a landslide, but like MK had been able to ease some of the weight off of his shoulders. When Monkey King dried himself off (“Ack! Stop shaking the water out, you're getting me wet! I have towels! Monkey Kiiing!”), his fur almost looked silky and soft.

“I'm still tired,” Monkey King mumbled after he put his borrowed pajamas back on. “I guess being in that scroll took a lot outta me, hah…” He had taken to sitting on MK’s bed, shoulder pressed against the wall, like he was trying to take up the least amount of space as possible.

MK busied himself with tidying up the leftover mess in his room, a few pieces of clothing left astray. “You're allowed to go back to sleep. I offered a sleepover, remember?” He clicked his tongue. “Granted, I didn't expect you to sleep for so long, but I really don't mind sharing my room.”

A few moments passed, the only sound being the shuffling of clothes and socks against the floor. Then some fidgeting noises, and Monkey King said, “What's this?”

MK turned and saw him holding one of his Monkey Mech action figures gently, like it was made of glass. “Oh! That's—” he jumped onto the bed, excitedly bouncing— “that’s one of the fighters in Monkey Mech! That’s the one that I main, he’s super cool and does a lot of awesome stuff in the story mode!”

Monkey King blinked at him. “Isn’t Monkey Mech what you call one of your powers?”

“...Oh, haha, is it? That’s sooo weird, I never noticed.” He cleared his throat. “What were we talking about?”

“You named one of your powers after a video game.”

“I didn’t—!”

“You did! You totally did!”

“Shut uuup!” MK whined. “It was cool!”

Monkey King reached up and roughly ruffled MK’s hair— yesss, he missed this so much, he didn’t realize that he missed Monkey King actually being awake as much as he did until he got it— and said, “Aw, it’s plenty cool, kid.” He turned the figure over a few more times in his hands, tracing over the mechanical parts with his thumb, before carefully placing it back on the shelf.

He still looked exhausted. MK ushered him down to the mattress. “I'll show you the game later, when you're done sleeping.”

“Mm.”

“And, um, I'm gonna ask Dadsy if I can go back to work tomorrow. I'm kinda antsy.”

Monkey King reached up and poked his cheek. “Y’still look tired.”

“I’m all good!” He was tired, so tired, but that was only because he hadn’t been able to sleep for two nights, not because of the battle. It was concerning, really, how sleepy Monkey King still looked, slow-blinking up at him before letting his hand drop back down. He definitely hadn’t been awake for more than ten hours since they’d gotten home. “Are you good?”

He waved his hand and curled up under the blankets, seemingly already almost asleep. “You’re here, so, yeah,” he mumbled into the comforter, and promptly fell dead asleep.

Which was.

Uh.

MK let his feet drop to the floor and stand, because he didn’t really know what to make of that reply. So he decided to not make anything of it, and instead went downstairs to ask about a potential shift tomorrow. Surely, once he had a steering wheel or a mop handle under his hands again, he would start to feel more normal. Maybe he’d even get some sleep!

Ahahahah.

Hah.

So I have jokes now, huh?

Pigsy let him work, thank goodness, MK didn't know if he could function another day just sleeping and doing jack shit. And it was nice, being able to do something he knew he couldn't fail at, something low-stakes. It made him feel like a regular person again, hanging out with Mei, Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy in the shop.

They joked around and talked about mundane things, and MK basked in the serenity of it. They spoke about the future, throwing around ideas of a beach day on Flower Fruit Mountain, which of course led them to mention the freeloader tucked in MK’s bed two floors up. Schemes were tossed around about rebuilding his house, and through the fuzz of monotony and sleep deprivation, MK couldn't quite tell how much they were being serious, but he totally would've been willing to put in the work, no matter how many hours of sleep he lost.

That wasn't the problem, work wasn't the problem. 

When he went back to his room after work, he practically tore his clothes off to make way for comfy pajamas, and collapsed into bed, right next to Monkey King.

…That’s where the problem was.

Because some time after he closed his eyes, gold and cyan exploded in his brain. Screams, fists, blood in his mouth, fire in his chest, burning burning burning—

His heartbeat in his ears yanked him awake. His breath was the only sound that heaved through his room.

So. Yeah. He wasn't sleeping, again.

He wanted to sleep, he really wanted to sleep, but he couldn't. Not when his mind kept replaying—

His fingertips fizzled with gold sparks, and he forced himself to calm down.

He was okay. Everything was fine. The battle was over, so he didn't need to be scared anymore. He repeated those words in his head over and over until they blurred together and his brain wasn't buzzing with adrenaline.

The silence in his room was freezing. Monkey King’s arms weren’t around him, his shoulders only having a blanket to keep warm. He was just about to reach for his phone, not wanting to think too hard, to think at all, when he heard his door creak. He shut his eyes and forced his breath to even.

Deliberately quiet, gentle footsteps walked across the room, so slow that MK could forget they were there. The noise stopped right in front of his desk, the sound of the base of two bowls being set down with a soft clinking sound. A pause, then a tentative, calloused hand brushed the hair out of MK’s face. The fond whisper of a sigh fell through the room, and after another moment, the footsteps carried their way back to the exit, and the door lightly clicked closed.

MK gave it a few beats, and he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Two steaming bowls of noodles were placed on his desk.

Soft old man.

MK poked Monkey King’s cheek. “Hey, it’s time for dinner.”

He stayed still.

“Heyyy,” he tried again, “Monkey Kiiing. Wake up.”

A fuzzy hand swatted aimlessly at him.

“Monkey King. Wukong. Bud. Great Sage. You literally haven’t eaten in days.”

Monkey King’s eyelashes fluttered open, if only slightly, and dim golden eyes glared up at him, half smushed into a pillow. He grumbled something along the lines of, “I don’t need to eat,” but it was barely comprehensible through sleep and pillow fluff.

“Sure, but Pigsy made both of us food. It’d be mean to not have some. And it’ll get cold if you wait too long.”

He knew he couldn’t tell him outright that he was worried, because then he’d be hit with a sleepy symphony of, “I’m fine, bud”s and, “Don’t worry about me, I’m seven times immortal!”, etc, etc, so on and so forth. Instead, MK had to play this little game of poking at him until he acquiesced, and decided that fighting wasn’t worth it.

Sure enough, Monkey King’s brows furrowed in annoyance, and he slowly pushed himself up with a bit of MK’s help. Once MK had passed a bowl over to his mentor, he settled his own bowl into his lap, slurping down noodles like he was starving. Which he was, because yeah, okay, like mentor like student— MK hadn’t had the best eating habits the past few days. But he had at least been eating a little, Monkey King had slept through most of the hours of the days.

After his stomach stopped yelling at him to chew as fast as possible, MK took a pause and glanced over at Monkey King.

He hadn’t even touched his food. In the hazy blue light of the evening, the bags under his half-lidded eyes were apparent. He held the bowl with both of his cupped hands, hunched over and staring down. The steam rose and kissed his cheeks, and he blinked slowly. Something behind his eyes ebbed, like heavy overcast clouds making way for sun rays to slip through. His breathing slowed and his shoulders drooped. Not calm, but… comforted. Like all he needed was something warm to hold; that was all he needed to… do whatever needed to be done to him, to wave away the rain.

MK kept eating, and he noticed Monkey King take a slow bite of noodles. Then two more, even slower. Then, he muttered, “How does their cooking even taste the same… that shouldn’t… ‘s not fair…”

Something was really wrong. “What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing…”

MK scrunched his brows. “Do you not like it? I can ask Dadsy to make you something else if you want, it's no big deal.”

“No! No, it's great, I…” he swallowed. “Sorry.”

MK thought for a moment, trying to fish through the thick black ink of memory. He really hadn't seen Monkey King eat very many times, and he had seen him eat real food even less times. “Do you,” he asked tentatively, “have, like… issues with eating?”

A pause, and then a longer pause after that. Then Monkey King nodded, just once. 

“I can leave if you want, if it’d be easier—”

“Please don't.”

The idea wasn't exactly appealing to him, either— he already had enough trouble going to work and not having Monkey King in his direct line of sight. “Alrighty, uhh…” He bumped their shoulders together, trying to be affectionate, comforting. “Well, I'm here if you. Uh. Need anything?”

Monkey King chuckled, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. 

He took a deep breath.

“They force fed me molten copper. While I was under the mountain,” he said with faux monotone.

“Oh.”

MK knew that, he had heard it in stories, but he didn't really… think about the effect of that. MK sat up with attentiveness, clinging to every vulnerable word coming from his mentor. 

“And it's— it was a long time ago. I don't have problems with it anymore. Mostly. But it doesn't really help to see— to see, like, so many depictions of myself, and what people think I should look like, and…” He looked back at MK, and the dead expression on his face turned twisted. He looked back down and scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm, tired. “Sorry, sorry, I don’t… it's not usually this bad. I don't really know what I'm talking about.”

Something was really wrong. It felt like staring at a torn up wound, bits of scabs peeled up and mangled under pooling blood. He was watching Monkey King bleed out.

“You didn’t even sleep this much after we defeated the Lady Bone Demon,” he pointed out. “And you were really sick.” It was something about the possession, his body temperature had dropped harshly. There were lots of heaters, warm drinks, and blankets piled onto blankets. But Monkey King, in true Great Sage fashion, kept insisting he was fine, actually, even through chattering teeth.

The longest he slept during that was for a full day— this was so far beyond that.

“I’m not sick again,” he replied.

“I didn’t think you were.”

Monkey King stared down, then slowly took another bite, chewing deliberately. MK also decided to keep eating, because he didn’t know what to say, and he couldn’t talk with his mouth full.

There was something else. It wasn't just about food, there was something else there, this was just a… symptom, or something. It was like that terrible, lost look in his mentor’s eyes— when he had found him broken and alone, staring over the edge of a cliff— took root, like it had flooded his very soul.

Something was really, really wrong, and maybe it had been for a long time. It was too big to look at.

MK flicked the TV on, not even paying attention to what show he picked, so they wouldn’t have to sit in silence, and they wouldn’t have to talk.

Even though he wanted to. Even though he wanted to reach in and pull out that golden, vulnerable piece of Monkey King that was covered with thick clouds. He didn’t know how, and Monkey King still looked so tired.

When they were done eating, MK brought their bowls downstairs to the kitchen sink.

Monkey King went back to sleep.

MK, of course, couldn’t.

He was awake for a while, letting his eyes droop and stare aimlessly into the dark. He could hear Monkey King’s soft, deep breaths behind him, and felt just a little jealous. He couldn’t even rest his eyes, because he knew if they stayed closed for too long he would see flashes of cyan and gold flicker behind his eyelids.

Monkey King suddenly shifted weirdly, and his breathing wasn't stable.

The quiet stretched on, until—

“Macaque.”

The room lit up purple. “Hm. What gave me away?”

Oh god, no. No no no no no. MK was too tired to put up a fight right now. He did everything in his power to keep himself from tensing, keep his form from flickering. Danger alarms buzzed in his head—

“Tch, as if you could ever sneak up on me, even in my sleep.”

—Except Monkey King wasn't worried at all. He sounded so casual, and MK could feel the relaxed posture he held dipping in the mattress.

If Monkey King wasn't worried, MK didn't have to be, either. He continued to pretend to be asleep.

“Eh, it was worth a shot.” A beat. “…What the— why don't you smell bad?”

“I don't—! Ugh. MK dragged me out of bed to wash my fur with his soap stuff.”

“You mean shampoo?”

“Probably, I dunno. Did you come here to call me stinky?”

Macaque huffed a laugh. “No, I wanted to…” He paused. “...How're you holding up?”

“Oh, is that really why you're here? Just checking in?”

“Yes,” came the response, so quick, so confident.

He heard ruffling as Monkey King fidgeted with the comforter. “I've been better,” he finally admitted.

Macaque chuckled. “And getting all snuggly with your student is gonna fix that?”

“I— He— I– It was his idea, I—”

“Oh my god, Wukong, I'm messing with you, chill out. You act like being cared for is gonna bring the world to its knees.”

He felt the mattress shift, and a soft tap against the window; Monkey King leaning against it. “Y’can never be too careful. It could happen.”

“You're impossible.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. They might've been doing that thing he saw them do often, communicating with just looks.

Then; “How's the kid?”

Monkey King let out a fond sigh, and MK could suddenly feel gentle fingers combing through his hair. He internally crooned with pure bliss. “I think… I think he's okay. I'm not sure. I've… I'm not really…” He struggled for words for a moment. “I dunno. I haven't even really been awake enough to talk to him about anything like that. And I'm just… tired all the time.” MK resisted a pout when he pulled his hand away. “What about you? Where did you go after— after the battle? I couldn't find you.”

Macaque laughed a little after a moment. “You looked for me?”

“Whatever.”

There was a bit of shuffling, and MK was pretty sure Macaque moved from being perched on top of the TV to sitting on the windowsill. Ugh, his boots were probably getting his blankets dirty. “My ears were ringing. I could barely hear anything, and my head was killing me. I just went to find somewhere quiet to rest.”

“Oh. Good, good.”

Silence stretched through the room. It was kind of awkward.

“Can I ask you a favor?” Monkey King said.

“I have never been able to stop you before.”

“Ha-ha, very funny. Don't take this as an order, I'm just— you've already done more than enough, and I'd do it myself, but I'm. I'm like this, and I don't want to leave MK, so—”

“Get on with it.”

“Right. Could you— when I was born from the stone, Heaven had records of me shooting at them. You know how they are, with their paperwork and stuff.”

Macaque made a disgusted noise at that.

“But, if you could check if there's anything, from like… nineteen? Twenty years back? If MK… I need to know more about him, his powers… I feel like— like something bad is about to happen. I need to keep him safe however I can. So… please?”

Once again, silence.

“C'mon, I know you're at least curious. There's a fifth one of us, you've gotta be curious!”

Macaque incoherently grumbled. “It’s gonna be chaos up there.”

“Perfect time to sneak in?” Monkey King offered.

“…Mmmgghngmfg FINE. But you owe me for this.”

“Of course! Anything you want!”

“Hah. I’m holding you to that.” There was a rush of wind as a shadow portal no doubt opened. “Well, I’ll be off, then—”

“Wait—!”

Monkey King lunged forward, and there was a soft clap of a hand closing against fabric. Macaque seemed to stop in his tracks.

Monkey King took a breath. Then another. Then said, “Thank you,” voice dripping with so much emotion that MK swore he teared up just from the sheer feeling radiating from behind him. “For…” he continued, “for coming to find me. For protecting MK when I… couldn't.”

Nothing but the quiet. For a moment, MK held his breath. He was sure Monkey King did, too.

Slowly, the sound of his hand being pulled from the wrist he was gripping ruffled the silence. At the end of the bed, where Macaque had been settled, the mattress rose. “Hands to yourself, Your Majesty,” Macaque finally replied. 

A step, and the sound of a shadow portal whooshing closed.

MK didn't need to have his eyes open to feel the despair sitting heavy in the room.

Monkey King’s breath hitched.

He sniffled wetly and gasped, and MK could hear him bring his knees to his chest. “K– Keep it together, Wukong,” he said to himself through gritted teeth. “Keep it— hhh—”

He sniffed again, and all at once fell back to the bed. He dropped all pretenses, rolling over and curling up around MK. He wrapped his arms around his chest, resting his hand right over his beating heart. His legs and tail wrapped fully MK’s legs, and he held him close, so close. An awful, broken sound escaped him, and he nuzzled his face into MK’s hair, his breath slowing. Once he was settled, whatever feeling took hold of him seemed to calm.

Like all he needed was something warm to hold.

MK wanted so desperately to roll over, curl around him just as tightly and cuddle up to him, do anything he could to be comforting, but he couldn’t— not without giving away that he was awake, and had been the whole time. He didn’t want Monkey King to know that.

For now, he tried to make himself as relaxed as possible, and let himself be held all through the night, long after Monkey King fell asleep.

MK wasn’t sure why, but he was ready for it before it even happened. Monkey King’s arms suddenly tensed around him, his fingers balling up MK’s shirt.

Then he spoke. Fully asleep, he spoke. “A– Azure?”

MK felt the breath being pressed out of his chest as Monkey King let out wet gasps.

“No, no no no, please, I’m sorry— don’t—”

Extracting himself from Monkey King’s grip was nothing short of a fight as he almost yelled to be let go, and MK almost had half a mind to be worried about the claws threatening to pierce his skin. When he was finally upright and freed, he watched as Monkey King frantically curled up around nothing, eyes squeezed tight and panting, scrambled words escaping him. MK took a fist-full of the fur on his arm and shook hard. “Hey, wake up! You’re having a nightmare!”

This achieved nothing but to increase Monkey King’s distress. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—”

He felt his form flicker. “Please!”

“Please, don’t make me do this again—!”

“Monkey King!”

He woke violently, blindly lashing out in any direction he could reach. MK could barely even see him, only just making out the tear tracks on his face illuminated by his golden cloud lamp, but he managed to grab Monkey King by the shoulders and dig his fingers into his fur. “Calm—” his mentor squirmed— “Calm down, you’re gonna get hurt!”

“K– Kid?”

“Uh, yeah?”

Trembling hands cupped his face, gold and red eyes looking him over like they were trying to figure out what was real. His thumbs lightly smushed MK’s cheeks, and his fingertips gently traced his skin. MK wanted to hug Monkey King so badly, to squeeze all of whatever emotion was flooding him right out, but before he could move at all, Monkey King was suddenly pulling away and turning the opposite direction, his breath shaky and barely clinging to a rhythm.

“I didn’t think—” he started, voice frazzled. “I… If I’d known I’d be like this, I never would’ve— I’ll go now, I shouldn’t have even—”

“Wh—?! No, wait, I asked you to stay here, I want you to stay—”

“It’s not fair to you—”

“Just—!” Before he could think, MK grabbed his hand. “Talk to me! About— what’s this about? Please? Please, just talk to me?”

Monkey King didn’t look up. His breath evened out, though it sounded forced. “What’s there to talk about?” He squeezed MK’s hand. “He’s gone.”

Which was…

Well. It was about what MK expected. He didn’t know Azure very well, but he had seemed so kind, so trustworthy. And in between the searching and the fighting and searching again and fighting again, somewhere along the way MK had forgotten that Azure had said Monkey King was his brother, that he meant everything to him.

And if there was one thing MK learned about his mentor, it was that he never half-assed anything. Especially not loving people.

“But— But aren’t you supposed to talk about these kinds of things? It’s like when you… you throw up poison or whatever, right?

Monkey King stayed right where he was, very still and way too calm for how he had been acting just moments prior. He waited, expectantly, for several moments. Maybe even a couple minutes passed. It didn’t really matter, he could’ve waited hours.

“I wish I was there,” he muttered to his lap. “When you two met, I wish I— maybe I could’ve talked him down. You woulda loved him.”

MK raised an eyebrow. Monkey King let out something like a laugh.

“No, really, he was… well, he was a weirdo like the rest of us. But I felt like… whenever he spoke, it really felt like we could tear down the heavens together.” His voice was incredibly soft. “But I failed him, I failed all of them, I knew they were never gonna give me a chance after that, not after I messed us all up the first time.”

“I— did you… try?”

“I did,” he said, balling up the comforter absently in his free hand. “Didn’t work out so well. ‘S how Azure got to the underworld in the first place.” His breath hitched. He dragged a hand through his hair. “I killed him,” like he had just realized, “I killed him, I killed my big brother, I sealed the others away, and— and Macaque—”

He looked away, out the window. Took a moment to himself, a few steadying breaths. MK gave him that moment of grace in silence.

“I’m a difficult person to love,” he said, barely above a whisper. Like he knew it was something he needed to say, the ultimate truth that he didn’t want to admit. The reason for all of this. “I always have been.”

MK knew better.

He shrugged. “It’s easy for me.”

Monkey King turned to him, slowly.

His face was twisted with— something like horror, despair, disbelief, exhaustion, guilt. So much guilt that MK could choke on it. Like he never even considered that MK loved him, never had been loved so unconditionally.

Or maybe he had just forgotten.

“I let them down,” he said, desperately. “And you—”

“Oh, you've let me down plenty.”

He wilted.

“Like, a lot. Soooo much—”

“I get it—”

“Like when we were playing a fighting game against Mei, and I tagged you in, and she wiped the floor with you so fast—”

“Kiiid,” his mentor whined. “We promised to never talk about that.”

MK giggled, and saw the barest hint of a smile on Monkey King’s face. “But even when you mess up, or I get mad at you, it's not gonna stop me from… y'know. It's easy. I…” He let his head drop to Monkey King's shoulder, and reached behind them to lift his arm to hook around MK’s neck. “I think Azure was so mad because he cared about you a lot.”

Monkey King turned to nuzzle into MK’s hair, his hand trembling where it rested near his neck. “Mm.” And when he felt tears drip onto his scalp, he didn’t say anything about it.

The battle wasn’t over. It couldn’t be, not when they were still… like this. Still fighting. MK knew that no matter what, the only way they would win was together. If Monkey King needed support, MK would provide a shoulder to lean on. Or, considering their current positions, a head to lean on, he supposed. He would stay with him, MK decided, until he was better. No matter how long it took, there was nowhere MK would rather be.

“I’ve got work tomorrow,” MK said. “You should shapeshift into a— a cat or something! You can lay in my lap while I make deliveries, and on my shoulders when I’m cleaning and junk!”

“Uh,” he sniffled, “Wouldn’t that be kinda uncomfortable for you?”

“Nah, it’d be like weight training!”

“Pfft— alrighty, then.”

Satisfied with this arrangement, MK squirmed a bit to get both of his arms around Monkey King’s torso, and nudge his head into the crook of his neck. They were propped up awkwardly against the wall, and Monkey King was definitely gonna wake up all sore tomorrow.

“Thank you,” his mentor whispered, despite this. “You… you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“I wanted to,” MK replied easily. Because he did. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to help his friends, to help Monkey King. But this, it was so simple. “Like I said, it’s easy.”

Monkey King scoffed, but it didn’t really have the effect he probably wanted it to have, considering how his breath tussled MK’s hair. “You’re really weird, you know that?”

“What’s that make you, then?”

That earned him a little laugh. 

Through their tired eyes and slowed hearts, they spoke more, but neither would remember what about come morning. Monkey King fell asleep quite fast, warm like the sun and his pulse tapping on MK’s cheek, a reminder that he was there, MK got to keep him, he was there.

Yeah, he was gonna be hard pressed to let go when his alarm went off. Or at all, for that matter.

MK didn’t sleep… much. At some point in the night, he nodded off for… probably an hour. He couldn’t see his clock with a face-full of monkey fur, and he had less than zero intentions to move. But he did doze off, light and dreamless. It was so much more than he expected, at the very least.

He got a lot of comments on the orange cat laying across his shoulders during his shift, but he had no intentions of ridding himself of his mentor.

No matter how much longer he slept, MK would stay with him. He would never leave.

Never.