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lucagray813 · 2 days ago

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Knock 'Em Dead - Epilogue

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,800

Characters: Wukong, Macaque

Relationships: Wukong & Macaque (Could be interpreted as Shadowpeach)

Summary: Wukong and Macaque have a heart to heart. It goes about as well as you might expect.

CW: Alcohol, swearing, references to MCD and violence

Link to AO3 Version

Chapter Navigation: First | Prev

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The cellar door was open and, combined with that gift of a glass of wine, it felt like an invitation. An invitation to what he didn't actually know but there was no turning back now. Macaque would have heard the moment he started heading in this direction - walking away would have him branded as a coward or worse.

He walked in to find Macaque lounging in a setup that definitely wasn't usually here - two comfortable looking chairs with a small table between them hosting a bottle of peach wine and an empty wine glass.

Macaque acknowledged him with a raise of the glass in his hand and a nod towards the empty chair.

He cautiously made his way over and picked up the open wine bottle before frowning slightly at it, "How much have you had?"

Macaque shrugged, "Like half a bottle."

Wukong poured the last of the wine and raised an eyebrow at him when it only filled half the glass.

Macaque just rolled his eyes and pulled a new bottle from the small collection on the floor. Shadows easily removed the cork before he handed the bottle over to him, "Thought I'd wait and see if I was getting a drinking buddy before going all out."

Drinking themselves to oblivion did sound far better than a sober, dire attempt to talk about what had just happened so he topped up his glass, drained it and then refilled it before putting the bottle down.

It was Macaque's turn to raise an eyebrow but he thankfully said nothing as Wukong took his seat, wine in hand, trying to determine how brave he felt.

He sighed heavily before asking, "Why'd you tell MK?"

Macaque shrugged, "He asked."

He scowled, "Cut the shit, Macaque. You don't do anything unless it benefits you so why'd you do it? What are you getting out of this?"

Macaque's eyes flashed dangerously for a moment but he clearly made a conscious decision to bite back whatever vitriol he wanted to spit and instead laughed cruelly, "You know, Wukong, I've read that little book of yours, the story of how you came to be China's darling and, I get it, a life as long as yours isn't easy to summarise - you've got to focus on what's important, right? But could you imagine my surprise when I realised that I didn't fall into that category? That I wasn't important enough to be so much as mentioned in the story of your life?"

Adamantly, he denied, "That's not why you're not in the book! I- You-"

As he struggled to get the words past his teeth, Macaque sneered, "Then what was it, Wukong? Did I just not fit in with your heroic narrative? Would my inclusion have made you look bad? Was that enough reason to let me be forgotten?"

"No! It wasn't like that! I didn't-!" He cut himself off with a frustrated sound before taking a steadying breath and trying again, "Look, I didn't write the book, ok? It was mostly based on Shā Wùjìng and my master's journals and on hearsay. You didn't get a mention because-"

He grit his teeth as he forced himself to admit, "When I got out from the mountain I was too angry to talk about you to anyone and then- and then after I couldn't bring myself to talk about you because I... I just couldn't, alright? The others had their own reasons for not wanting the world to know about what happened on the Journey. That's why you're not mentioned. Not because you weren't important. Macaque, you have to know how much I regret what happened that day, how much I've always regretted it."

He would never be able to put into words the neverending grief that he'd experienced after Macaque's death and unfortunately he hadn't drank nearly enough to even try, his wariness of the Macaque that existed in the present enough to stop him totally bearing his heart and soul.

Macaque's response was underwhelming. He just sighed, sat back in his chair and had another sip from his glass before commenting, "Yeah, I heard the sob story you fed MK. I suppose I should be honoured my death was a monumental enough occasion for the horse to be moved to take action - you know it must have been bad if Áo Liè actually felt compelled to do something."

Disbelief and anger made themselves known in his tone, "That's all you have to say? I'm trying to have a genuine conversation with you about what happened and your response is to insult my friend?"

Macaque continued to act unaffected, "Oh, I could say more, trust me. But what's the point? I already know how this "genuine conversation" is going to go."

That gave him a moment of pause, "... You Listened?"

Macaque had always been pretty reserved about using his Listening as it left him vulnerable for the duration he used it and his Future Hearing, in particular, wasn't one hundred percent foolproof. But that didn't mean he couldn't or wouldn't use it if he thought the payout was worth the risk.

Macaque scoffed, "As if I had time between talking to MK and listening to him interrogate you."

He still wasn't ruling out that Macaque had manipulated the situation somehow - he could have Listened well before talking to MK and orchestrated this whole thing - but he decided to take him at face value for the moment and see where that took this conversation.

Knowing Macaque though, probably nowhere good.

He crossed his arms, "Yeah, thanks for that. Nice of you to give yourself the upper hand - don't suppose you'd care to tell me exactly what you told MK?"

Macaque's grin was petty, "Sorry, only one show per day and you missed it. Such a shame. Though I'm not sure you would have been a fan."

No, he definitely wouldn't have been but if they were finally addressing what had happened then he wanted them to be on a level playing field.

With a frustrated sigh, he sat back, "I don't want to play these pointless games, Macaque. If we're talking about this, then let's talk about it."

Macaque regarded him for a long moment before quietly chuckling to himself and when he addressed him there was a slightly manic look in his eyes, "Alright then, Wukong, let's cut right to the chase, shall we? You regret what you did? Good. You should. But I don't regret what I did."

His voice came out as a hoarse whisper, "What?"

Macaque made a show of reconsidering, "No, wait, actually I do have a couple of regrets. Getting caught? Very disappointing oversight on my part. And the monk? What I wouldn't give to go back and make sure he suffered like he had truly deserved."

The wine glass in his hand never stood a chance but the shards of glass barely even registered as he slammed his hand down on the arm of the chair and gripped it as if it could hold him back from lunging forward, "For as long as he lived, he never fully recovered from what you did to him! He didn't deserve the torture you put him through!"

He didn't know exactly what Macaque had done to him, but he knew what he was capable of and just the thought of it was enough to have his nails digging into the arms of the chair, the whole thing threatening to crumble under his anguish and fury.

Macaque wasn't intimidated by his show of anger and drawled, "Well, that's a matter of perspective, isn't it? Would you like to hear what kind of person your master was from my perspective?"

He didn't but unfortunately he was going to have to if they wanted to make any progress and Macaque took his hostile silence for the go ahead it reluctantly was.

Macaque took a long drink before telling him with conviction, "Your master was a cold and indifferent man, that switched between viewing you as a burden and a tool at his disposal. He cared nothing about who or what you were and yet he expected you to obey him without question. He was a man undeserving of your love and devotion. And if that changed, it only changed because of my intervention."

He resisted the urge to lash out in response to his self-importance as well as his shallow understanding of the situation and his master's character. However wrong or hurtful Macaque's words though he knew he had to hear them through to the end, so through gritted teeth he bit out, "Explain."

Gesturing to his ears, Macaque responded, "Obviously, I couldn't Listen to every second of the years you spent with him before I found you that day, there could well have been fleeting moments of civility that you let yourself believe was something more that I missed but I Heard his disregard for you and I Heard how he punished you."

There was no denying that the earlier years with his master had been difficult and painful. Supposed opposites forced together, they struggled to understand one another and that led to more conflicts than he would care to admit but he didn't blame his master for not always listening to him or for being heavy-handed in his retaliation.

His master had been young and mortal and thrust into a perilous journey with a dangerous, morally grey and bad-tempered demon that could kill him in an instant. Could you blame him for being a little on edge or for being unsure of how best to handle every situation?

And while he had initially been the unwilling muscle for this operation, his master had always treated him as his student. And even if he'd had no idea how to be a teacher to someone like him, he, ultimately, had never given up on him.

Even in those early years, when quite frankly, Wukong had neither wanted to or believed there was any need to change his ways.

But he knew that sort of nuance meant nothing to Macaque, just as it meant nothing to himself at the time and how it would have meant nothing to him if he and Macaque's positions had been reversed.

He could hear the undercurrent of fury in Macaque's voice as he continued, "But even if I hadn't Heard all I had, the way you pathetically latched onto any hint that he actually cared about you when I was the one wearing his face would have been enough to seal his fate."

He wasn't ready to face that ugly truth just yet and so he took hold of the embers fanned by that statement and glowered, "You mean when you lied to me? When you manipulated me?"

Macaque laughed incredulously, "Oh, of course, how fucking vile of me to listen to you, to treat you as if you're feelings mattered! Not once did I ever even tell you that you were in the wrong! Or that you had to forgive me!"

Despite the truth of it, he still growled, "That doesn't make it right! And it doesn't change the fact that your ultimate plan was to get me out of the picture long enough for you to torture an innocent man for information he didn't have!"

Macaque's eyes were filled with venom, "And whose fault was that, Wukong? Did you really fucking expect me to just go home, to sit patiently and wait for you? After everything I'd Heard? After all the time you'd already been gone? What choice did you give me but to take matters into my own hands?"

He knew now that it had been stupid to believe that Macaque would ever have listened to him back then. And even half-crazed from his time under the mountain, he should have known that.

And moreso, if he put himself in the mindset of pre-Journey Wukong and thought about Macaque's actions then they were entirely justifiable. Maybe a touch crueler and calculated than he personally would have gone with but hey, everyone had their own style.

That sort of violence was normal, especially against an outsider who had wronged you and your own. It wasn't considered bad and it wasn't considered wrong.

He obviously knew better now but it had been a lesson hard earned, and one that required a fourteen year journey, with a dedicated teacher at that. But both then and, arguably, now Macaque hadn't been given that same chance to grow or learn the error of his ways. Could he truly blame him for what he'd done?

And as twisted and terrible as what Macaque had done was, Wukong couldn't ignore the fact that he'd done it out of love and loyalty.

And when he'd responded in kind, with the single minded desire to avenge his master, he'd declared to the world that those feelings weren't returned.

That they belonged to another.

And the worst thing was, that he had meant it.

All the fight left him, and shakily he responded, "You're right... You responded how any demon would have. How I would've. How I did."

He desperately wanted to tell him that he hadn't meant for things to end the way they had, to go as far as he did, but the truth was Macaque had been dead the moment Wukong had seen what he'd done to his master.

Regret didn't feel a strong enough word for how he'd felt afterwards but Macaque's death had been no accident.

He took a breath before offering, "Look, there's not a single thing I don't regret about what happened. Our reunion after the mountain, how I- how I responded to what you'd done. I understand why you did what you did, that doesn't make it right but... I can understand why you don't regret it and I... I don't blame you for that."

Macaque sneered at his sincerity, "Oh, you understand, do you? You understand what it is to dedicate your life to someone and be told it's not enough? You understand how it feels to have the person you love most only return those feelings when you're wearing the face of the human who abused him?"

Macaque was on his feet, the glass that had been in his hand now shattered on the ground. His eyes glowed violet as he lunged forward and dug his nails into the arms of Wukong's chair, "You know what it's like to spend centuries suffering in the Dìyù? You know what it's like to crawl out of your grave with a gaping hole in your skull? Do you!?"

His stomach turned at the gruesome imagery.

Beyond the fact that the Lady Bone Demon had been involved he knew nothing about how Macaque had been resurrected. He should have known that twisted witch would have made it as agonising a process as possible.

He fought to keep control of his expression however, even without the alcohol, there was no telling what would make the situation worse and Macaque's teeth were already dangerously close to his face.

He was sure the undercurrent of turbulent emotion could be heard as he quietly responded though, "No. Of course, I don't."

Macaque's eyes flicked over his face, his breath coming out in unsteady bursts before he let out a gutteral growl and raised a fist that went right through the back of the chair, deliberately missing Wukong's face.

Wukong could only watch as he turned away, his tail thrashing furiously behind him.

He knew that the true depths of Macaque's suffering would always be beyond his comprehension. In the same way that no words could ever communicate the maddening agony of his isolation under the mountain, he knew that no matter how willing he was to listen, he would never truly understand all that Macaque had been through.

Despite that, there was an overwhelming urge to do the impossible and somehow make amends, to somehow make all of this right.

Macaque stood with his back to him and with a wavering voice said, "You didn't even bring me home."

Sick with shame, he still tried to explain, "I was going to! Your magic- I couldn't move you until it- I promise you, I was going to bring you home. But the- the Lady Bone Demon got to you first and I-"

"When?"

"What?"

Through gritted teeth he heard Macaque clarify, "When were you planning to bring me home? When was the last time you even went to visit my grave?"

He swallowed thickly, his tongue felt like lead and the ensuing silence said it all.

Macaque's laugh was a bitter, tortured thing, "I really didn't mean anything to you, did I?"

Wukong hunched over himself, his forehead leaning against clasped hands, "Macaque, I didn't..."

Macaque turned around sharply, "Didn't what, Wukong? Didn't think you'd ever have to see me again? Didn't think you'd have to face up to what you'd done?"

Of course, he hadn't thought he'd ever see Macaque again. Of course, he'd never thought he'd ever be in this situation.

While his guilt had seen him haunted by visions of Macaque, he'd never believed he would actually rise from the dead. Wished for it, on occasion, maybe but had never conceived an enemy of his could, or would, go to such lengths to torture him.

And yet, still he responded emphatically, "No! I- I mean I didn't mean to leave you there! Or to go so long between visits. It just... hurt to be there. To remember what happened."

Macaque's grin was unhinged, "And that's excellent why I'm here now, Wukong! To make sure you never forget, to make sure you never know peace for what you did!"

A part of him believed that it was no less than he deserved.

But he hadn't forgotten his master's teachings, or his responsibility to MK, and he knew that drowning in self-loathing and guilt would benefit no-one.

And even if he did accept such a punishment - what kind of life was that for Macaque? Consumed by hatred and pain and obsession? He deserved better than that. At the very least, he deserved the same opportunity he'd had to change and grow.

He was no more irredeemable than Wukong had been, of that he was sure.

In fact, he'd already seen the signs that he was capable of better.

He couldn't fully rule out that Macaque was playing some sort of long game but he'd gone above and beyond during the calamity involving Azure and they'd been cohabiting the island with relative civility for months since. They'd even successfully collaborated on MK's training recently.

He wanted that to mean something.

He didn't dare hope for a relationship of any kind to be rekindled from the ashes but they could have some semblance of peace if they both wanted it, if they both dedicated themselves to achieving it.

But peace was clearly the last thing on Macaque's mind right now. The alcohol no doubt adding fuel to the agonising fire that always burned within him.

Now wasn't the right time to tell Macaque that he wanted to help him work through this. There might never be a right time to tell him that to be honest - he could already envision the offence taken at suggesting he could "fix" him.

So, taking a steadying breath, he responded, "I can't ever expect to be forgiven for how I wronged you but I won't run from the consequences. I deserve to know the full extent of the suffering I caused you and you're right, I deserve to never forget it."

In hindsight, there was no way this evening ended well, no matter what he'd said just now, but still he was caught off guard by Macaque's furious scream as he brought a shelf full of bottles crashing to the floor.

He sat frozen as Macaque viciously spat, "You're so fucking pathetic! The old you, the real you, wouldn't just roll over and let someone else tell him what he deserved! He would have killed anyone that fucking dared! He never would have just sat there and accepted his fate!"

It wasn't the first time Macaque had brought up the "real" him and he was sure it wouldn't be the last.

He resolved himself as he stood up, and Macaque's suddenly wary expression at the action spoke volumes. Firmly, he retaliated, "Is that really what you want? The "old" me? The one that never listened to you? The one that responded to everything he didn't like with violence?"

Macaque took a step back as he took a step forward, "You want me to be the me that didn't hesitate to kill the only person that had loved him unconditionally? Because we both know how that will end."

He held Macaque's gaze unflinchingly until the terror he was met with became too much for him.

His expression softened, "But I'm not that person anymore, Macaque. I'll never be him again. I'm going to listen to you. I'm going to treat you with the regard you deserve. And the only reason I would ever cross that line again was because I was given no other choice."

He wished he could promise that he would never be the one to cut his second life short but if it was a choice between him and MK...

Then he would do what he had to.

Macaque seemed to find his reassurance just as terrifying as his reminder of what he'd once been capable of and Wukong wasn't at all surprised that he sank through a shadow portal seconds later and fled.

He stood for a moment and stared at the spot Macaque had been before sighing and rubbing at the back of his neck.

Well, that could have gone worse...?

They hadn't devolved into violence, at least.

He looked around at the mess on the floor and the damage to the chair he'd been sitting on.

Well, mostly anyway.

Normally, he would have a clone tidy it all up but the weight of everything that had happened had him rolling up his sleeves with little complaint.

He didn't doubt that this had been only the first in a long line of difficult and messy conversations that would be needed to try and move past everything that had happened. And he knew he was going to need every scrap of wisdom, patience and tact he possessed if he wanted to help Macaque find a semblance of peace.

But right now, he willed himself to focus only on cleaning up the mess right in front of him, to allow his heart and soul a moment of respite before they were overwhelmed with the grief and guilt of everything he had learnt.

--End--

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