Tiny Baby Wukong Fic Part 4: Cold
Evening came both quicker and slower than Tripitaka expected it to. It was a relief— Wukong had been transformed around noon, and sleeping the whole night was going to take a large chunk out of their remaining sixteen hours.
Wukong was still sulking after his outburst. Bajie fetched him a bowl of mulberries for his dinner, which he ate with gusto. He got himself spectacularly purple and sticky eating them, and looked like he might try to bite Tripitaka again when he announced that Wukong was going to need a bath before bed.
“I won't use soap.” He said, but Wukong was already on the other side of the campsite, shaking.
“No!” He shrieked, but was powerless to do anything as Tripitaka rolled up his sleeves, procured a couple of towels, and scooped up the infant, “No, no, no, no!”
He continued protesting as Tripitaka carried him down to the stream at the base of the mountain.
“You can't make me!” He shrilled as they reached the water's edge, “You can't just make me get naked and—”
“You are already naked,” Tripitaka said, trying not to sound as tired as he felt, “Your clothes did not shrink with you, Pilgrim.”
Tripitaka sat down on the rocks by the stream.
“This will be quick, I promise.” He said.
Wukong twisted and shrieked as Tripitaka lowered him into the water, but the moment he was in he seemed to give up the fight and instead began scrubbing his face and hands and fur as quickly as he could to get it over with. Tripitaka had to hold him around the middle to prevent the stream from carrying his tiny body away with it, and hoisted him out the moment he was done.
Wukong shook off the moment Tripitaka put him down, spraying him with an impressive amount of water. Tripitaka bit back complaints and handed him a towel.
Rather than patting himself dry, Wukong pulled the towel around his little body like a fabric cocoon and sat down, shivering miserably. It was a warm summer evening, but the water had been cold and Wukong was so small…
Tripitaka scooped up the bundle of infant and rubbed the towel into his fur to dry it. Wukong was too young to have properly grown-in fur, and it was instead thin and thankfully easy to dry.
By the time Wukong was all dry the sun had gone down and he was barely awake in Tripitaka's arms.
Tripitaka carried him back to the camp, still swaddled up in his towel. He laid out some blankets and carefully transitioned the sleepy monkey from his arms to the bedding and tucked him in. He was about to leave when Wukong gave some sad little squeaks and curled up tight, trembling underneath the thin covers.
“Pilgrim?” Tripitaka knelt back down.
Wukong opened his fiery eyes and peeked up at him. He was so small, so vulnerable.
Tripitaka lowered his hand to stroke his fur, but Wukong grabbed ahold of his wrist and hugged it tight.
“Don't leave me.” He said, in a very weak voice.
Tripitaka wordlessly picked up the infant monkey and cradled him again. Wukong went right back to sleep, his head buried in his master’s robe.
Tripitaka slowly got up and carefully carried Wukong around as he set out his bedroll and prepared to sleep. By the time everything was in order Wukong was fast asleep in the crook of his arm.
“Pilgrim?” Tripitaka whispered, but there was no response. He tried to put him back in his bed, but found that Wukong had grabbed hold of his sleeve with his hands and his feet, and Tripitaka didn't think he could detach him, especially not in the dark. He tried to shimmy out of his robe, but Wukong gave a sleepy squeal at the disturbance.
“Okay, okay.” Tripitaka gave up and the infant settled down. Tripitaka got into bed with Wukong still clinging to him. He was tense for a while, fearing he might just roll over and kill the tiny thing if he slept, but soon enough the exhaustion of such a chaotic day caught up with him, and he drifted off.
