LMK request one-shots

Yandere Macaque (part 3)

MK wasn't 100% sure what happened after that. He remembered his throat hurting and his ears burning. He remembered scratching and biting and he remembered being thrown into his room where he proceeded to destroy everything in there with his bare hands in a fit of rage. 

Then, after staring at the carnage and the blood he'd smeared on his possessions, he dropped, sinking to the floor and wailing pathetically, all the anger sucked out of him and leaving horrible, soul-crushing agony.

It hurt like knives were digging into his heart, and he grabbed at his head, sobbing into his knees and holding on tight enough to give him a migraine. Not that it mattered. If anything, the pain was a good thing, it distracted him from the torture tearing through his chest, the memory of Pigsy's blood flashing before his eyes as he watched the awful, awful moment he got impaled over and over again in his mind.

He whined as he tried to block out the image, sobbing into his hands until he felt sick, and then, hours later, he collapsed onto his side on the floor, lying down with tears still sliding down his cheeks as he stared vacantly at the wall. 

He felt numb, like someone had taken out his heart and crushed it and now he felt empty. Hollow. What was even the point of escaping when his dad, the only person who had always been there for him, was gone? How could he possibly even live life again when everything was so wrong? 

He blinked slowly, more tears dripping down his face and making the carpet damp and he stayed like that for as long as could, unmoving and aching and hurting and miserable.  

He stayed like that until Macaque opened the door again. 

Light burst into the room, and MK winced but didn't move, still staring aimlessly at the blank wall, and heard Macaque tutt from behind him. He was probably looking at all the destruction MK had caused, but he didn't care. 

"Alright, c'mon cub. Time to get up." It felt like he was listening to him from underwater, his voice fuzzy and none of the words made sense. He blinked and Macaque was lifting him up, muttering something he couldn't make out as he was carried out of the room and MK let him, limp in his hold, and stared owlishly at nothing in particular. 

He couldn't sleep even though he was exhausted and didn't want to even close his eyes in fear of what he might see and when Macaque dropped him onto the couch he didn't make a noise, letting himself fall as his head hit the armrest. 

"Sit up, MK. You've had enough time for your tantrum." Macaque said and MK blinked sluggishly, empty on the inside. Why should be bother? There was nothing else Macaque could do to him to make what he was feeling right now any worse.

"Fine." He felt himself get manhandled into a sitting position, his back resting against Macaque's chest as the older started grooming him, hands running through MK's dirty fur. 

"We should probably clean up those hands of yours, huh?" Macaque said offhandedly and MK slowly looked down at them, finding dried blood flaking off his fur. He flexed his fingers slowly, oddly disconnected as he watched them move and suddenly Macaque was picking him up again, MK loose in his arms as he was manhandled to the bathroom. 

The tap was turned on and water was running over his hands. It felt weird, like he was watching it happen to someone else and when he blinked again there was a damp towel on his cheeks, wiping away dirt and presumably blood that had been there. The hand was rubbing too hard, and MK stayed silent, not even wincing as Macaque finished and carried him back to the living room.

Silently he let Macaque do as he pleased, time slipping through his fingers like sand and forever later and only a blink at the same time MK discovered they were done, and MK was sitting at the table in a chair like a doll, staring at nothing.