Work Text:
"MK!" Wukong called in a sing-song voice. "You're laaate!"
MK was normally very good at coming back in for lunch on time. But he also had a tendency of getting distracted while exploring the mountain. And after a year of learning all the nooks and crannies, Wukong and Macaque found themselves playing hide and seek every so often with him. And with Macaque away spending time with PIF, Wukong was left to child-wrangle alone.
"MK!" He yelled again. "Lunch isn't peaches this time, I swear!" It was technically a side of peaches, but MK didn't need to know that yet.
After a few more fruitless minutes of looking at all the normal spots, Wukong huffed. "I'm gonna cheat and use my gold vision if you don't give me a hint, bud!" He gave MK a few seconds to respond—which he did not—before hopping on his nimbus cloud and flying up for an overhead view of the island.
He looked around with his normal vision for a bit, if only to challenge himself, before making good on his threat and letting the gold tint take over. He flew around quickly, eyes darting in this direction and that. It didn't take long at all to catch a glimpse of his kid.
MK was further than he normally went, but not the furthest he'd ever gone. It was near a bunch of large rocks he liked to climb. It stressed Wukong and Macaque out the first few times they caught him, but they learned quickly that there was no stopping him. And MK was always careful with his steps. Plus he had pretty good balance for a six year old, so the two of them let MK continue his climbing.
Wukong flew over, assuming MK just dozed off after playing too hard. But the closer he got, the more his eyes narrowed. MK liked napping on the rocks, not next to them. And the position he was in didn't look very comfortable at all, turned on his side with his limbs sprawled awkwardly.
Something cold and sharp squeezed his heart.
He dismissed the cloud when he was close enough and hurried to his son's side. "MK? You alright?" With no answer, Wukong knelt next to him and slowly turned him over.
Then he saw the blood.
There was a gash in his hairline, blood seeping into his hair and matting it. His face was lax, his skin was pale, he was so so still—
"MK—" His voice caught in his throat as he pulled the boy into his lap, slow and careful, though his hands were trembling. He cradled his head like it was made of glass. "Oh gods—MK, please wake up. Please, open your eyes."
Again, there was no answer.
…Fuck, was he even breathing?!
Wukong held a finger to his slack-jaw mouth, sagging at the puff of hair he felt. He then pressed two fingers against his throat. The pulse was easy to find, if a little weaker than he felt comfortable with.
He was alive. He was alive.
Now that Wukong looked closer, he could see other scrapes and bruises along MK's arms and legs. He must've fallen off the rocks and knocked himself out.
Which… was still concerning. Human brains were so fragile. Even a tiny bump could lead to long term problems, and Wukong had no idea how far he fell or how long he was left here.
His heart rate spiked again and tears stung his eyes. "I-It's okay," he said, holding MK impossibly closer. "It's okay. I got you. Dad's gonna take care of it. I'll heal you up, good as new."
He laid a palm softly over the wound and took a deep breath. His magic flowed from his hand to MK, his energy stitching the damage together slowly but surely. He took his time and focused solely on the head wound. The other scrapes could wait. Right now his biggest concern was making sure MK woke up without any brain damage.
All things considered, it didn't take long, but to Wukong it felt like hours. Even after he healed the gash, he spent another minute just going through the layers of MK's head, leaving no stone unturned and no anomalies ignored.
When he was confident there was nothing left to fix, he leaned back, unsure of when he had curled over his son so completely, as if to protect him from any further harm. There were more tears on his face than he remembered shedding, but he couldn't be bothered to wipe them away.
He shifted MK in his hold, holding his head against the bend of his arm. "MK?" he called, voice shaky. "Kiddo, can you hear me?"
No reaction.
Wukong sobbed once, then breathed deep. He ran his claws through MK's hair. "Baby, please wake up."
Again, nothing happened, and Wukong began spiraling about doctors and hospitals and how he was going to tell all of this to Macaque—
A tiny groan and a furrowed brow.
Wukong gasped and cupped MK's cheek. "MK?"
MK's eyes squeezed tight, then squinted open. "Mmn… Dad?"
Another sob erupted from him, this one mixed with a barking laugh. "Oh, MK—" He pulled his son into a tight hug, cupping the back of his head. "Gods, you scared the shit out of me." He pulled away and started brushing his hair back again. "Are you okay? You feel alright?"
MK rubbed his eye, then his forehead. "My head hurts a little. And my leg." His eyes widened when his fingers touched his hair, pulling them back to stare at blood. "Is that—"
"Is okay," Wukong said hurriedly, "I got you all healed up. Everything's alright."
MK looked around, eyes pausing at the rocks. "Did I fall?"
"Yeah. Yeah, you did."
"Oh… I don't remember."
Wukong frowned. He adjusted his hold and scooped MK up carefully before beginning the journey of a slow walk back to the house. "Probably for the best. But is the rest of your memory okay? You know what year it is? You remember your Bàba?"
MK nodded against his chest. "It's 2047. And Bàba is the Six-Eared Macaque."
"You know where you are right now?"
"Home."
Wukong allowed himself a small smile, some of his anxiety melting away. He pressed a kiss to the crown of his son's head. "Good job, bud. Three for three."
MK sat in silence for a bit, then looked up at him. "I'm not allowed to play on the rocks anymore, am I?"
Wukong scoffed a laugh. "Absolutely not."
MK crossed his arms and pouted. Which was perfectly fine with Wukong. He could pout all he wanted, so long as he was safe and alive.