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It was cold.
So so so cold.
Macaque shivered, attempting to force air into his lungs.
That was the thing about Hell.
You can’t really breathe, can you?
Cold heavy chains clung to Macaque’s wrists, suspending him in mid-air. His sweaty hair hung over his eyes eye, a horrid stabbing pain in his left.
Oh no.
He had been here before.
Not again.
No no no no no.
A familiar blue light slowly formed over his exhausted figure, a large smile and flowing white hair barely visible out of the light.
A ghostly voice echoed in the empty space; it had been the first sound Macaque had heard in centuries.
Not again not again not again
‘ArE yOu ReAdY tO fAcE yOuR dEsTiNy, SiX-eArEd MaCaQuE?’
Nonononononononnonononono
A vivid light.
Air coursing through lungs.
Air air air air air air
‘TIME to WAKE up.’
‘MACAQUE WAKE UP!’
With a shriek, Macaque shouted, gasping for air, limbs shaking and shivering. His chest rose and fell, throat screaming for air.
‘Mac?’ a too-familiar voice whispered from the other side of the room.
Room.
Eyes shooting around the room, his breathing slowed slightly when he saw he was just at Flower Fruit Mountain, sweating and panting coarsely in a comfy bed.
Tail wrapped nervously around his legs, Macaque hid his head in pillows, trying to slow his breathing.
Just a dream just a dream just a dream.
‘Mac?’ the voice repeated, inching closer to his pillow fort.
Macaque shifted his position slightly, and peeked at the voice.
Wukong.
Wukong gently sat on the edge of his bed, tail twitching slightly.
‘Y-you were making a lot of noise, and looked like you were having a really bad dream, so I tried to wake you up, but im sorry if that made it worse, I-‘Wukong stuttered and rambled in apology, but was cut off as Macaque shot into his arms, tail wrapped around his.
Macaque buried his face into Wukong’s shoulder, stifling unshed tears from years and years ago.
Wukong wrapped his arms around Macaque’s body in comfort, and both quietly sobbed in each other’s arms.
Their tails curled around the other’s, sniffing and wiping away tears.
‘I-I should probably go back-‘ Wukong gradually got up and began to leave the room. The shadows of the room, before left to hide in corners and behind clothing, seeped towards Macaque, lurking and whispering promises of more nightmares and reminders of hell, more-
‘Peaches, wait.’
Macaque shot up and grabbed Wukong’s hand. Even in the low light, Wukong’s cheeks rose a tone redder.
‘Please. Stay.’ Macaque whispered, tail curled against chest, preparing for rejection.
Without hesitation, Wukong leaned into Macaque and flopped back onto the bed, stroking his hair and falling onto the pillows in exhaustion.
The two laid against the pillows together, cuddling, tails wrapped around each other, the shadows slowly seeping back into their corners and borrows.
‘Night, Peaches,’ Macaque whispered, voice hoarse with exhaustion.
‘Night, Plum,’ Wukong replied.