Seeing Through the Trauma

Together (19)

Wukong woke up gasping for air. His dreams had been anything but pleasant, twisting into memories of being under the mountain and his subconscious mind had compared it with the underworld. Something on top of him stirred at his movement and he looked down to find his little boy in his lap, lips softly parted in sleep though his eyebrows were scrunched.

The sight of him made Wukong calm down, his heartbeat slowly steadying as he ran his claws through MK's hair, watching as each tense muscle in his body and face relaxed and softened at the repetitive motion. Good. He deserved some restful sleep after what had happened.

He felt eyes on him and snapped his head up to find Macaque standing in the doorway, two mugs in his hand as he watched both of them with an expression soft enough to make Wukong's heart flutter. 

"Good morning." He called quietly as Macaque sat down next to them both, reinserting himself into the same place he'd been sleeping all night and having to lift MK's lags and settle them back on his lap to do it. 

He passed one of the mugs over, leaning back with a smirk. 

"Good morning to you too." It was so domestic that Wukong felt guilty as he clutched the hot mug to his chest. He didn't deserve Macaque, not after how...animalistic and out of control Wukong had been acting. He was surprised MK had even been able to touch or look at him considering how much blood had been on his hands. He looked down at them, wrapped around the ceramic, and felt them shake. There was still dried blood on them. He'd never washed them, too busy being in survival mode and worrying about MK and now he wished he'd taken the time to get the blood out, watching the little flakes fall when he moved his hands and inhaling tightly.

"You okay?" Macaque asked, though based on his worried, sympathetic expression he already knew Wukong wasn't and he jerked his head clumsily, quickly looking away from his horrible hands and pretending he couldn't still feel the taste of copper pennies and iron rust in his mouth when he swallowed. There was probably still blood on his teeth, too.

"I'm fine." He said, short and curt and Macaque frowned as he took a quick gulp from his mug to avoid the conversation. 

"It's okay not to be you know? No one can expect you to be okay after all that and giving up your-"

"Don't." Wukong's sharp voice cut through the soft words easily, his hands clenching around the mug so tight it almost broke but then MK shifted slightly in his sleep, the movement reminding Wukong their little boy was under him and that breaking the mug would wake him up and probably burn him. 

MK had been through enough, he didn't need Wukong being stupid now. He needed to be okay so he could be there for MK. 

"Wukong..." What's worse is that Macaque didn't even sound disappointed, just worried and concerned. It made his blood boil, there was nothing to be concerned about! Wukong was fine! Everything was fine! He'd killed people like that before and he didn't care about his damned immortality that much anyway! 

Even if the thought of death still made his chest go tight and breathless, a snake coiling and constricting around his lungs whenever he tried to breathe in. 

"This isn't about me, okay? This is about MK. I mean, he's the one who actually-" The word choked on his tongue, and he sputtered, gritting his teeth.

"Who actually-" Why couldn't he just finish the fucking sentence? Why was it so hard to think about dying and death? He'd avoided it for so long, had run from it like it was a marathon, and now...now he'd finally started to slow down. 

One day everyone would die, MK, Macaque, even Wukong himself and that was the natural order of things. Hadn't his immortality felt more like a curse most days anyway? Hadn't there been long years where he'd wished to be able to just rest and be at peace? Only there was no peace for him in the afterlife. Only torture and pain.