A Son Of Two Dad's

You asked so I delivered

"So how come you didn't tell me about these before?" Macaque asked softly after a while of peaceful grooming, easily seeing the thick scars that fur couldn't grow over. MK shrunk back from his touch, clearly sensitive about it as he fiddled with his hands, picking at his claws. 

"It's not like I was hiding it or anything!" He explained nervously, not wanting Macaque to feel like he didn't trust him.

"It's just... not important. I don't know. I don't like remembering that they're there. It's stupid." He bit out, unhappy even thinking about them, about the physical reminders of how unwanted he was, how weak he'd been.

Macaque was silent for a moment, choosing his words carefully. 

"I don't think it's stupid." He ran a thumb over one of the scars gently, noticing the way MK tensed up at the touch and stopped.

"I used to think my scars made me weak too." He confessed, oddly vulnerable in a way that MK startled from shock, turning back so he was looking at Macaque with wide eyes. 

"You did?" He asked meekly, surprise evident in his tone and Macaque nodded, one hand reaching up to touch his right eye. Behind him, Wukong froze, his hands stilling from where they had been running through Macaque's fur. 

"But you're so strong and powerful! How could you ever-" MK trailed off, not sure how to finish what he was trying to say, still stuck on the very thought of his dad ever feeling the same way MK did. How could he when he was so strong?   

"I know but I didn't feel that way. I thought my scars showed how weak I was, how weak I'd been. They reminded me of my failures. Of mistakes." He said grimly as MK blinked up at him, utterly bewildered. 

Then, he let his hand drop from his eye, magic shimmering over his face and suddenly there it was, a deep, long gash over his eye that was now a milky white colour that had MK gasping loudly, even though he'd seen it before, though briefly, unease churning in his chest as he remembered that it had been something Macaque had said Wukong had done. 

"But it's not." He let MK reach up a hand tentatively, touch featherlight as he brushed against his dad's face, fingers ghosting over the scar with horror at the evidence of his dad being so hurt It looked just as bad as it did the first time he'd seen it, only this time he got a much longer look. Wukong was as still as a stone behind them both, not moving at all.   

Macaque grabbed MK's hand with his own, his fingers curled around the kids' hand gently. 

"Does it still hurt?" MK asked as quietly as a mouse and Macaque breathed out, the weight of his wound and what it meant to him settling over him like a cloud. 

"Sometimes, yeah." He admitted and MK breathed out a quiet gasp, eyes wide. 

"Mine do too." He confessed like it was a secret and maybe it was. Maybe this was the first time he'd ever even mentioned anything to do with the ache he felt along his scars when it was cold, how they hurt when it rained and he kept it all inside, forcing on a smile even though he was hurting. Somehow, with those small amounts of words he'd managed to get all of that across to Macaque, who nodded knowingly because he understood.

It was the first time MK had ever really talked to someone about this, the first time someone had really listened and it brought tears to his eyes, chest swelling with heavy emotions.

"Your scars don't show your weakness, MK. They show how strong you are. That despite everything the world has thrown at you, you survived, and even though you're hurt you still keep smiling. That's what real strength is." Macaque told him, clutching MK's hands in his own with certainty so strong in his voice it made it hard not to believe him.