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They fought again. Once again their staff’s meet in this destructive dance full of rage. Anger mixed with desperation in their eyes. None of them really wanted to fight, but they don’t know how else to communicate anymore. Both too scared to let the other in. Not wanting to get hurt again like before. Teeth bared at each other, growls filling the air along with grunts and hisses, as if they both were ready to bite into eachothers throats given the chance.
They yell many hurtful words none of them really means. Just to wound the other. Just to get under their skin. Just to dull their own pain with violence and spite. Just to win this endless, pointless argument they both lost the point of hours ago.
They scratch and hit each other. Blood staining another pair of their clothing, ripped in more places than it stayed intact. They both pant in exhaustion, but none wants to give up first. None wants to claim defeat.
And then it happens again .
One hit too many.
One too slow reaction.
One strike that finishes it all.
“ AAAAAGGHHH! ” Macaque howls out loud. A petrifying sound, one that rings in Wukong’s mind every night, haunting him for centuries, and he finally seems to not only look but also see the other simian.
Six-Eard covers his right eye. His hand clenched hard, probably doing more damage as his claws pierced the skin around the wound. He turns weekly,trying to protect the wounded side, his hand shaking, pain swirling inside of him. He wants to vomit as the world swirls around him, and his whole body shakes involuntarily.
Wukong lets go of the staff, letting it fall to the ground, and he takes a step towards the other. His legs felt heavy, but with each step he picked up the pace, and soon he fell to his knees next to Macaque. His expression panicked as he didn't know what to do.
He tried to grab Macaque’s arm. He wants to see the wound, to assess the damage. He needs to do something, anything “Wiat, let me-”
“Don’t touch me!” Macaque growls, backing away like a cornered, wild animal. Hatred mixed with pain and panic in his gaze is palpable and it stung the King. He knows he deserves it. He hated himself for it centuries ago too, and so does he now.
“ Please. I’m sorry.” Wukong’s voice shakes just like his hands. He knows he can’t apologize for what he had done so simply but words just come out of his mouth “I didn’t mean to-” he doesn’t know what to say, but he really didn’t mean to do that. Not then and not now.
He already felt guilty for the past, he didn’t want to repeat it. He doesn’t know what had gotten into him. Everything was getting better already; they argued less, they stopped fighting, trained the kid together even.
It was their first fight in months, and he can’t even remember how it started. He again got blinded by rage. He hates that he can’t control himself sometimes. That he loses control. That there is something only in fights with Macaque, that can pull all the worst out of him in a matter of minutes.
Macaque scoffs in anger at the King’s words “Fuck you Wukong. You never mean to, but somehow I always end up suffering because of you.” he hisses with as much venom as he could muster in this state.
Wukong felt his eyes water but he forced himself not to shed even a single tear. He doesn’t deserve it.
“At least let me treat it.” he grabs Macaque's shoulder and the ebony monkey flinches sharply and pushes him away.
“No! Get away from me!” he bares his teeth, fear in his working eye opens old scars in the King’s heart. He hates this look, but he also knows he can’t blame Six-Eard for it.
“Please…” Wukong tries to keep his voice gentle but he’s desperate, scared that time is running thin, “I can’t lose you again.” he pleads, past flashes before his eyes. Scene when he had left Macaque centuries ago on the battlefield. He thought Macaque would be fine. He hadn’t known his wounds were that bad. That they were deadly. He hadn’t meant to leave him to die. He hadn’t meant to let him bleed out all alone like this.
He doesn’t want to make the same mistake now.
“Just… leave me alone.” his tone is bitter, as he turns his gaze away “It’s what you’re doing best anyway.” he scoffs, his hands shaking. Fuck, it really did hurt; he thinks, panic clouding his mind. His tail comes between his legs and he moves away bit by bit.
Wukong can see all that. And it would be so easy to leave. To try and act as if nothing happened the next day and let this cycle just stuck on repeat…
But he doesn’t want that. And he deep down knows, he feels, Macaque doesn’t want that to. He at least hopes…
They both just wait for the other to make the first move. He realized that when they all thought the world was ending, and he really wanted to have his Shadow by his side again more than anything in the world.
When all he wanted to do was spend those last moments holding his hand.
He hopes he has enough strength inside of him to make them work again. And so he gathers all the strength inside of him and acts. Something he should have done long ago.
“No.” Wukong said firmly, “I’m not giving up!” he scoops Macaque from the ground, “You hear me Macaque?” he lets Six-Eared hit him and scratch him in a rose of panic, focusing only on holding him; gently enough, so he would not to hurt him, but firm enough, so he would not fall off “I am not gonna give up on you! On us !” he clenches his teeth as he takes the first step.
“Let go of me asshole!” Macaque hits him in the jaw, claws leaving a mark, making the King hiss in pain, but he endured it and swallows his anger back.
“ Liu’Er. ” that worked like a spell, as he sees Six-Eared’s eye water heavily as it locks on him “Just let me treat it…” Wukong pleads.
There’s no answer.
Not a verbal one at least. But the ebony monkey stopped struggling against him, only tuning his gaze away.
It’s enough for Wukong, he takes another step and calls Nimbus, for it to take them fast and safely to the hut. Regret tears his heart apart as he looks at Macaque in his hold. He’s clearly tense and at high alert, not looking at him, but he sees his ears flicker slightly from time to time.
Once they get to the hut, flying in by a window, he gently places Macaque on his bed. The ebony monkey sits down, pulling his knees closer as he’s still covering his wounded eye, black tail tight around his legs.
Wukong pulls a few strands out of his head and blows at them, creating some supplies to help with cleaning and securing the wound.
“Can you… remove your hand?” he asks, gettin some warm water and clean tissues ready. To his surprise and relief, Macaque puts his hand slowly down, but under it is already an illusion of a normal eye, matching the other “I need to actually see it to tend to it.” he huffs, a bit more stiff than he intended.
Macaque furrows his eyes, clenching his fists. Wukong sees he’s on the edge. He doesn’t want to fight again “Please. At least the eye.” the King ads sitting beside him. Mattress squeaking uncomfortably.
A heartbeat or two passes and just as Wukong thinks he’s gonna need to use his gold vision to break through probably layers upon layers of glamor Macaque puts up; like a morning, mist it all falls down.
Snow-white fur is stained with scarlett. Six petal-like, colorful ears flutter lightly, clearly still on high alert, tracking Wukong’s smallest moves. He hasn't seen him like that in centuries. Knowing he had lost this privilege he now feels almost criminal looking at him and mesmerized by his beauty so shamelessly.
“Get to it already.” Macaque hisses, pulling him out of his own thoughts. He’s still not looking at the King, tip of now white tail tapping impatiently.
“Right. Sorry, I just- Nevermind.” he looks at the wounded eye. Unrecognizable now, a horrid scar running long through his face and a star-like hole where his eyeball used to be. At first his heart clenches, past guilt and regret shattering him, but… after a deep breath, he realizes it looks like the wound opened just a little. It looked nasty, yes, and probably hurts like hell, but at least it already stopped bleeding.
He starts to gently clean the blood around it. He tries to be as gentle and patient as he can, letting the warm water do a trick. It feels as if he finally grasped the gravity of the problem, now that he can see, and feel just as deep the wounds and scars, he had caused, reach. It’s a long and a mundane process but he puts all his focus into it. It won’t be easy.
He’s sure it will be a hard process but he really wishes he'll one day again be able to hold Macaque’s hand without him flinching, without the world ending around them, without another common enemy.
Able to hold his hand just because they want to. Just because their hands feel right together. Because they fit each other so well.
Once he finishes bandaging the wound tightly, so it could heal, only then he notices that the dark gold is focused on him. How long has Macaque been looking at him? He smiles nervously as he moves his hands away. He finished so there was no reason for him to touch the ebony monkey anymore. He doesn’t want to overuse the situation.
“Get some sleep, alright?” he says unsure, slowly standing up. His tail limb behind him until something cold grapes it, making the fur on it stand up, and Wukong turns away.
“You said you wouldn’t leave.” Macaque whispers, his gaze fixed on the ground. The King would definitely think he misheard that if it weren’t for the open hand extended to him. He feels his eyes water again, as he takes the hand and comes back to the bed with a gentle pull of his Moon.
They both lay down, stiffly at first, adjusting in a small bed, but never once letting go of the hand hold.
They don’t say anything more before falling asleep from exhaustion.
No words could speak as much as this one hand hold did anyway.
They both wonder how the hands that had hurt them so much before, could still fit each other so perfectly. How once connected, felt so right. So calming. So soothing and comforting.
It didn’t make sense.
But it also did.
And they hoped it would be enough for now.