#inor

“That’s fair…” Mei wraps an arm around him, so he doesn’t have to hug only himself. She hums thoughtfully. “I mean, we could always just ask Pigsy and Sandy to get him a job somewhere else. I think they’d understand.”

MK shakes his head. “Monkey King forgave him already, and if it’s up to him, then I guess… I don’t know, I don’t wanna go against what everyone else thinks…”

Mei squeezes him slightly. “Hey, if you’re uncomfortable with him around, then that’s important to bring up, too!” A thought then occurs to her and he smirks. “I could always annoy him into quitting. He’s kinda fun to mess with.”

After a bit of silence she notices MK staring at her. “What?”

“You like him around, too, don’t you?”

Mei’s expression drops, “Wh-what?! No!”

MK gives her a hard look.

“Okay! Maybe I think it’s fun to joke with him! And, yeah, I sorta think... Maybe he is trying to not be a jerk!”

MK’s expression hardens even more.

“BUT! You’re always gonna win out, no matter what! If you don’t want him around, then I’ll push for him to leave! You’re my best friend, MK, and I’ll back you up. I’d rather you feel safe than give a dude who’s tried to blow us up on numerous occasions a second chance!”

MK softens and a smile slowly forms on his features. He leans into Mei’s hug and sighs. “Thanks Mei. But it’s not really my safety I’m worried about. It’s all of you! Especially now that he’s helping Pigsy cook.”

“You're afraid he’s gonna poison the food or something?” Mei quirks an eyebrow up.

MK makes an “ehhh” noise and waves his hands in a “sort of “ motion. “A little bit,” he admits.

Mei can’t help but laugh. “How about this - I can do a vibe check on him. Maybe check in while he’s cooking and see what he’s doing. Maaaybe mess with him a little bit cuz it’s fun. I’ll tell you what I see. And no matter what, if you still want him gone, we talk to Pigsy.”

MK thinks for a moment, then nods. “Sounds good.”

“Cool!” Mei gives him a final squeeze. “I love you, dude! I’ve always got your back!”

“Thanks Mei.” MK smiles, much more relaxed than before.

Mei gives a thumbs up before heading towards the kitchen

- - -

This should be rather simple. Pigsy was dealing with some customers. Red Son was in the back taking care of the soup. She slips into the kitchen without the pig’s notice. She edges around behind Red Son, staying quiet and looking at what he’s doing. He seems to be just using a normal set of spices and ingredients. Mei isn’t really a cook. In fact, she’s actually quite bad at it. She’s even managed to burn salad once, and somehow caused toast to turn soggy in a toaster oven. But she’s at least 62% sure that the ingredients he’s using are ones she’s seen in her own kitchen before. At least there’s nothing there with a skull and crossbones that would denote “poison”.

Red Son, on the other hand, looks very at home in front of the stove, as beat-up and clunky the old thing is. His hands fly around in practiced motions, balancing throwing in various ingredients and stirring the pot. He even seems to know how to keep the stove from making its usual loud noises, and works around its out-of-date mechanisms. His motions are fast, but smooth, and his face looks focused, but if Mei had to guess, he seemed at peace. Maybe his dream was to be a cook, after all, she thinks. But Mei’s thoughts are suddenly interrupted by Red Son’s voice.

“What do you want, Dragon Girl?”

“Ah–” her voice is caught momentarily, as she wasn’t aware that Red Son was aware that she was there. She quickly recovers though, putting her hands in her pockets and slinking nonchalantly up next to him. “Oh, nothing! Just wanted to see what you’re cooking.”

“We’re in a noodle shop, take a guess,” Red Son drolls, but continues to not look up from the soup.

“Hmmm, ice cream?” Mei responds cheekily, eliciting a sigh from the fire demon. Mei chuckles inwardly, and sidles up next to Red Son, and peers into the pot. It’s got less of that reddish tint from when he made soup for Mr. Tang the other day. If Mei had to guess he was making Pigsy’s usual recipe and or at least a modified version of his own.   “Smells good!” she says, and she means it.

Red Son rolls his eyes and makes a “tch” noise, but she can see the corner of his lip curl up.

“So what’s in it?” Mei asks.

Red Son sweeps his hands over to the counter with various spices and vegetables on it, “All of that in amounts that Pigsy tells me is a trade secret and some other special spice blend, which he also has told me is a trade secret.”

“Oh, so you don’t knooooow!”

“Hmph, I know enough.”

Mei chuckles to herself. She looks on intently in silence a little longer. He doesn’t seem to be messing with the soup in any nefarious way. And he even has time to clap back at her, though not in a combative way. It’s almost playful, actually.

But of course, Mei has to ramp things up sometimes.

“So if I pushed this button what would it do?” Mei says, hand inching closer to a panel across a few pots.

Red Son catches it mid-reach, even making sure she doesn’t get near the hot steam, and says, “It’d turn on the oven.”

“What if I put in this spice?” Mei hovers said spice shaker over the soup.

Again, Red Son stops her before she can do anything. “That’s sugar, it’d make it sweet.”

Mei is having fun, but impressed with how he can stop her so quickly while still working the stove. She wonders how far she can go…

“What about this? And this? And this?” she says attempting to push more buttons and shoving more spice jars his way, giggling mischievously.

“Would. You. Stop. That!?” Red Son says, stopping her at every turn.

He seems annoyed, but she can see a playful smirk on his features, which causes her to laugh even louder. Red Son dances around her, still working on the soup. Now Mei is trying to take a taste of the soup, and has managed to grab ahold of the wooden spoon he holds. Red Son huffs out what Mei could swear was the start of a laugh and she doubles her efforts. They wrestle a bit at the stove. She’s so close. But as she leans closer, she can hear a loud series of clicks, notices that she’s turned a nob all the way up, and suddenly the fun has stopped.

Flames erupt from one of the burners of the old gas stove, and she only has a moment to inwardly berate herself as the fire heads towards her. She can feel the heat on her face. A mere instant before her eyebrows are scorched off, or worse, she is shoved out of the way, and pushed harshly to the ground. The wind gets knocked out of her, but what makes her lose her breath even quicker is the realization that it is Red Son who pushed her out of the way of the fire.

Mei blinks and notices him holding a hand to his side. The fabric on his sleeve looks singed, but before she can see more, he shifts it out of her sight. Red Son lets out a snarling hiss, that sounds more pained than angry. “Idiot Dragon Girl! What were you thinking?!” he yells.

A set of even more booming and panicked voices soon drowns out the fire demon’s own, as Pigsy, Sandy, and Mr. Tang enter the scene. “What the heck is going on in here?!” Pigsy yells. Mei follows his sweeping glare to see the soup has been spilled, which luckily seems to have doused the flames, but unluckily gotten everywhere. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Mei flinches, feeling embarrassed for causing so much trouble, but realizes that Pigsy is glaring at Red Son, not her. She’s about to correct him, but it doesn’t come out due to a combination of still trying to get her breath back, and MK’s panicked voice drowning out her own.

“Mei!” MK sweeps up from behind her. He puts himself between her and Red Son. “GET AWAY FROM HER!” Mei looks worriedly at her friend. She’s so rarely seen him that upset and angry, and the scene shocks her. It reminds her of when he was controlling the ocean, and she worries for her friend.

Red Son scrambles backwards. He’s still holding the hand with the burnt sleeve. Was he.. Burned? That doesn’t make sense. He’s a fire demon. For that matter, why’d he have to push me out of the way? Couldn’t he just stop the fire? Why’d he put himself in harm's way? All these thoughts swirl in her head, followed by the still confused thought of. Did he just save me?!

Another shout from MK shakes her out of her thoughts. “What did you do to her?! I thought you weren’t going to use your fire here!”

For the first time since he’d been working at the shop, it seems like Red Son’s full ire could not be contained, and he yells back at MK. “I didn’t do anything, Noodle Boy! SHE’S the one who was messing with the stove and caused it to overheat!!”

“Right, and it just so happened to catch fire around you!”

“Yes, it just so happened! You know how old that stove is, and I don’t like what you are insinuating!”

“I’m not insinuating, I’m accusing!” MK points at him.

“Maybe she shouldn’t have been messing around literal fire and boiling liquids!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be here!” MK stomps his foot down.

Red Son flinches visibly. A hurt look briefly crosses his features, before it is replaced by his usual angry one.

In the second of silence that follows Pigsy edges his way between the two. “ALL RIGHT, that’s enough! You two need a break. Take one!”

Mr. Tang bends down and offers a hand to Mei to help her up, “Mei, are you okay?” She nods and finally finds her words, “Yeah. I, um, yeah, I was the one messing with the stove, sorry.”

Pigsy nods at her statement, looking between the two boys. MK still appears stressed and is staring down Red Son, as if ready to attack or defend at any moment. Red Son himself glowers back, but his eyes shift between MK and the floor. Pigsy slowly turns to Red Son. “I think you should take the rest of the day off.” He says it curtly, as if trying to reign in his own anger, but also attempting to not point any blame.

Red Son huffs and skirts around the group, heading towards the kitchen’s exit.

Sandy calls over to Pigsy, “I’ll be there in a second to help pick up.” Then he turns to Red Son before he can leave the kitchen. He goes to rest a hand on the demon’s shoulder and opens his mouth as if to say something. But before he can lay a comforting hand on him, Red Son turns sharply and elbows it out of the way.

Sandy's face goes between shock and hurt. Red Son breathes heavily, momentarily wearing a look of shock of his own in between seething breaths of anger. An intent stare passes between the two, and it reminds Mei that the two spent a lot of time together, and she wonders how much just a look communicates things between them. She herself doesn’t really understand, but Red Son soon looks away and murmurs something about wanting to be alone. As he stomps out of the kitchen she notices, finally, that his hand looks reddened, and definitely slightly burned.

As they hear the noodle shop door slam shut, MK slips quietly up to his room. Mei wants to follow him to talk and to make sure he at least gets some rest, but Pigsy turns to her before she can do so. “So tell me why I’m cleaning up some perfectly good soup off the floor?”

She supposes she owes him a bit of an explanation, but as Mei tells him what happened, she inwardly can’t help but wonder how exactly a fire demon can be burned…?

That last one gave him pause. Injuries could be healed with time, and as a demon, he was a fast healer. But he did not know what happened to his powers. Were they really all absorbed by his father’s armor? Were they then extinguished by whatever that Noodle Boy did? He didn’t even know that it could be extinguished. It had to have been though, because based on what little he could get out of Sandy, the Monkey King had survived the conflict. Red Son isn’t sure how he feels about that. Sure, he had attacked him and intended to have him defeated by his father. But that’s not how things turned out. That’s not what his father wanted. And despite him giving the Samadhi Fire to his father, which is what he thought he wanted, that turned out to be disastrous as well. Were his parents even alive? And if they were, what would they want with someone who had nearly gotten them killed? What would they want with a son who didn’t even have any powers? In this state he was useless. Relying on the enemy, no less. How shameful.

Red Son had tried a few times to activate his powers. Each time he was met with not even a puff of smoke. If his parents thought he was a disappointment before, what would they think of him now?

At the very least he was making progress physically, and could hobble around the houseboat a little bit on his own. The Blue One said he could leave when he was better. But where could he go? He didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to just be able to do something about it. But he could no longer simply throw fire at his problems. And no matter what anger and vitriol he sent Sandy’s way, the blue giant simply refused to be upset at him. Why didn’t he just kick him out? He certainly deserved it! His own parents likely wouldn’t want him around, why would an enemy?

So when he wasn’t yelling at Sandy, or his numerous cats, he just withdrew into himself. Fuming with no fire. Brooding over his current situation. What was the point anyway? A small part of him wanted to know if his parents were okay. As much as he was sure they would hate him, they were his parents, after all. But the thought of trying to find them terrified him in a way. On one hand, if they were alive, he was useless to them like this. If they weren’t… well, he didn’t want to think about how that would mean that it was his fault if they were dea--

Red Son angrily throws the closest thing near him across the room, which happened to be a mug of tea that he was holding. It flies across the room just missing a few cats who leap out of the way with an indignant hiss. The cup breaks apart and spills its contents all over the floor. He takes some seething breaths, before a voice speaks up next to him.

“Well that’s a much stronger throw than before. At least you’re healing!” Red Son had forgotten that the Blue One was there. He had given him the tea in the first place after all. Red Son had just gotten lost in his musings and forgot about the ever-present, overly pleasant companion. The big man goes over and gets a broom. “However, maybe we could find other, more constructive, ways for you to release your anger?”

“Ugh! Don’t try to give me life lessons! What are you, some sort of life advice guru?”

The Blue One laughs heartily, while picking out some of the larger shards. “No, I’ve just learned how to control my anger via anger management therapy. And I’m always open to listening if you want a friendly ear,” he says brightly.

Red Son can’t imagine this guy ever being angry, and the idea of talking about his feelings makes his stomach bubble in disgust. “What? So I can give away all my family’s secrets? Why would you care anyway?”

The Blue One shrugs. “I just do!” He pauses and thinks. “And also, maybe I could ask you to maybe not throw my cups and scare my cats…?” He ends the last part in a hopeful lilt.

“No promises,” Red Son grumbles.

“What do you normally do to de-stress?”

“Destroy my enemies.” Red Son looks pointedly at Sandy.

“Ah… um… would throwing fire around (preferably in a contained area) help?” Sandy asks hesitantly.

Red Son scowls. “No.”

“Would you like to try contacting your parents…?”

An uncomfortable flutter pangs in his heart. “No.”

“What about, er, a hobby or…?

Red Son is getting fed up. “WOULD YOU JUST STOP!” he shouts. “We are not friends! We are enemies! You are the good guys! I’m the bad guy! The villain. Stop trying to be all buddy-buddy with me! If you’re trying to change me or get me to open up, it’s not going to work!”

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to figure out what would make you feel better… Maybe healing up at your place would make you feel safer…?” Sandy looks truly apologetic, but Red Son is already too worked up to care. Furthermore, bringing up the possibility of going to see his parents causes that fluttering feeling to worsen.

“No! I can’t go back! I--”

Sandy raises his eyebrows. And Red Son shuts his mouth suddenly realizing what he almost revealed. The Blue One nearly had done it! How dare he. He hates him for that. For his stupid honest niceness. He hates that he is here. That he let down his father, again. That he has to rely on a big-hearted idiot of an enemy. He needs to leave. He doesn’t have anywhere to go. But he needs to leave.

He clumsily slips out of bed and does an awkward combination of stomping and limping past the Blue One and towards the door, ignoring the giant’s protests.

He swings open the door and he sucks in a surprised yelp as standing on the other side of it is a girl with green highlights in her hair, and pigtails sticking up from behind, with her fist to the door poised to knock on it. It’s the Dragon Girl. The two stare at each other. They exchange blinks of confusion.

The Dragon Girl is the first to react. Her surprised features shift into a look of pure rage. “YOU!” she shouts.

She flings herself at Red Son, elbowing him in the middle and throwing him across the room. Pain explodes from his various injuries, especially from his ribs and chest area. He crumples to the ground and barely has time to react as she is pulling a sword on him. He rolls out of the way, under a table and pulls himself up using an adjacent book case. He slips a little bit, and is forced to put weight on his injured ankle, which burns horribly, but he needs to get away from this crazy and enraged attacker.

He leans on the far end of the bookcase and holds up a hand. “W-wait!” he wheezes out before he devolves into coughs and choking gasps. He stumbles as he backpedals away from another swing and falls again to the floor. He grabs desperately at anything in his surroundings that can help pull him up, but the pain drags him back down again.

The tip of the sword is pointed at his center and he flinches back. He can’t do much but cough some more. When no attack comes, he chances a look up at his attacker. She’s looking at him with a paranoid gaze, which flickers up and down in confusion, but she does not lower her weapon.

“What are you doing here, Red Son?!” she yells.

Red Son does his best to regain his breath. When he does he shouts back, though not as loud or as strong as he wants it to be. “I was brought here, Dragon Girl! By your blue friend, no less! So- so back off or I’ll burn you to a crisp!”

The threat is empty. He knows it is. And even if she doesn’t, she knows she has the upper hand. He can’t hide his injuries or look powerful, half curled up on the floor and locked down by her sword. But he won’t appear weak. Not to her.

“Mei!” calls the Blue One, as he stands up from the floor, stepping carefully over the glass on the floor and rushing into the adjacent area to move between the girl and the demon.

“Sandy! Are you okay? What is Red Son doing here? Is he hurting you? Is he--”

“He’s injured!” Sandy says with some amount of exasperation quickly shuffling over and kneeling down by Red Son’s side. He puts a hand on the demon’s back and offers another for him to take to support him. Red Son stays silent and looks down, as Sandy helps him up.

“What?!” Pure incredulity drips from the Dragon Girl’s voice. “Are- are you helping him?!”

When he’s able to set Red Son upright, and leans him against a nearby cabinet, he looks to the girl and rubs the back of his head absently. “Er, yes, I am.”

She continues to give him a questioning look.

“He was hurt!” Sandy says simply. “I had to, Mei.”

The girl looks between the two of them, before sighing and lowering her sword. “I was wondering why we hadn’t heard from you much.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys. I was hoping to tell you first instead of you finding out this way. Are you… mad?” The big man looks small, like a child revealing that they had snuck a cookie out of a cookie jar.

“It’s not you I’m upset at, it’s him. I don’t trust him. You could get into trouble. What if the Demon Bull family comes and attacks you? What if he burns down the houseboat?!” Red Son gets dizzy at the range of emotions that cross the girl’s features and body language as she talks, from a distrusting glance to panicky waving arms to exaggerated sweeps of her entire body. He remembers why he finds this group so annoying. And even moreso, he is annoyed at being left out of the conversation.

“Excuse me, I am standing right here!” he says with as much afront as he can muster.

“That’s the problem, Red Boy!”

“It’s Red Son to you, Dragon Girl!”

“Oh and now who is getting the names wrong?”

“I don’t stoop to uttering the names of peasants!”

“Shut up! You shouldn’t even be here! Do you know how much pain you caused! Sandy is here helping you, and you don’t deserve any of it!”

“Now now--” Sandy tries interjecting, but is caught in the middle of a now shouting match.

“That’s because you’re all so styoooopidly sappy! I’m GLAD I attacked you! You weaklings are too noble for your own good!” A smile spreads on his face seeing he’s getting under the girl's skin. It made him feel stronger. Shouting let out his pent up frustration from earlier. And banter with the Noodle Boy’s friends made things feel normal for once.

Mei shouts back at Red Son, contempt and hatred dripping from her words. "You hurt my friend! You nearly destroyed the Monkey King!!! You and your dumb dad! I bet DBK is proud of you!"

Red Son’s smile drops immediately and something in him snaps at the mention of his father, and before he can stop himself, the words come out. "HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE!"

There is a beat of silence and Red Son had a moment to realize what he said. He hadn't meant to bring up his father in such a way. How weak is he that he keeps revealing his inner thoughts to his enemies? His heart hammers against his ribs in shame and embarrassment, and he’s about to babble out some excuse, when the Dragon Girl speaks instead.

"He was supposed to be what? Destroyed?"

 What?

"Well, you know what? You failed to destroy the Monkey King. And it was the Monkey Kid who beat both of you!"

A spark of relief lights in Red Son's chest. The girl thinks he was talking about the Monkey King. Not his father. She had misunderstood his shout. He pushes down his shock and embarrassment, and forces a well-practiced sneer onto his lips. "Y-yes! The Monkey King was supposed to be destroyed! You just got lucky, that's all!"

The girl gives him a hate-filled look. Just the way it should be.

But when he looks over at Sandy, he sees confusion. And… sadness? Perhaps a bit of worry. Well, they should be worried and sad and angry at him!  They should both be afraid. And weakened or not, Red Son isn't going to let them forget that he is still a force to be reckoned with!

He fixes the Dragon Girl with what he hopes looks like a dangerous scowl. "Next time I'll be more thorough in my destruction!"

The girl doesn't look quite as frightened as Red Son would've hoped, but at the very least she clamps her loud mouth shut. She then sighs and turns to Sandy. "I don't know why you helped him. I don't think this is the kind of guy who can be saved."

Red Son's chest burns uncomfortably. It must be because of that shove she gave him earlier, exacerbating his wounds, and not the hopelessness of her statement.

Sandy shrugs and replies simply, “I've got to try, don't I?"

The girl's lips spread in a small smile of understanding and pats the large man's arm. "Yeah, and that's what's cool about you, my friend."

Sandy beams widely. But his expression switches to nervousness. "You won't tell the others, will you, Mei?"

She quirks an eyebrow up and gives him a look. "Sandy, MK is my best friend. I tell him practically everything," she deadpans.

Sandy wilts a bit, but the girl gives him another reassuring pat and says, "But I'll ask them to leave him alone…,” she shoots Red Son a dark look as she finishes her statement, “...for now.” Switching back to something more friendly, she returns her attention to Sandy. "So you better come clean yourself, soon, and give us a better explanation."

"Of course!" Sandy brightens.

With that the girl exits the houseboat, leaving Red Son and Sandy alone.

There is silence between them. Sandy looks at Red Son, and the demon does his best to not notice.

“Did she hurt you much?” Sandy sounds both worried and a bit embarrassed.

“I’m fine.” Red Son says too quickly.

Sandy comes closer and reaches a hand towards him. Red Son flinches back and the motion causes his whole body to wobble. Before he can fall back down, Sandy catches him. Red Son goes stiff and Sandy makes sure to give him some room once he regains his footing.

“Sorry.” Sandy shifts where he stands. “I noticed that one of your bandages is loose.” He gestures to a bandage on his wrist. “I may have to check you over again and re-do your bandages… If that’s okay…?”

Red Son’s chest burns again. He hates this. But he nods anyway. “Okay.”

Slowly, Sandy goes about washing and re-bandaging Red Son’s wounds. Luckily nothing was hurt too badly, but some bandages did come loose during the scuffle, and a few deeper burns had to be cared for.

They stayed mostly silent throughout much of it. Until Sandy finally spoke up. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About how ‘he was supposed to be.’” He was sitting behind Red Son working on some of the bandages on his back, and Red Son was glad for this so he didn’t see his eyes widen in alarm.

“Of- of course! I definitely meant to destroy the Monkey King and bring him to my father as a prize.” Red Son tries to keep his voice steady.

Sandy is silent for a moment as if trying to find his words. “Were you really talking about the Monkey King then? Not… someone else?”

“I-- don’t know what you mean…” The words come out stiff and stilted.

“I thought…” he began, before giving a sigh. “I guess I misinterpreted what you were saying.”

“Yes, I suppose you did.” Red Son answers curtly.

After a bit more silence Sandy continues. “Have you made any progress with your powers…?”

Red Son twists around suddenly giving Sandy a wide-eyed stare. “How did you know about my powers!?” The movement hurts, but the ache of sudden vulnerability is worse.

“I noticed you trying to throw some fireballs and stuff over the past few days… And also you didn’t attack Mei. Or me, for that matter. So I just… guessed”

Red Son feels small. Like the world is pressing in around him. The Blue One’s large form, not helping. And the pain radiating from his wounds makes the sensation worse. He pushes himself away from the blue giant as he starts shivering again, the cold suddenly feeling more apparent. Everything is suddenly fuzzy, like when he first noticed that his powers were gone. But now Sandy knew, and his friends might find out. And if they found out, then maybe his parents would know. They’d know just how weak he was. His chest is pulsing with pain and he isn’t sure why. It feels like the Dragon Girl hitting him over and over again.

Warmth is suddenly draped around him. The downy sensation of a comforter holds his form. He notices that his breaths are rapid and that’s what was hurting his chest. “Breathe,” a voice calls. So he obeys. Slowly, his breaths return to normal. The blankets surrounding him give the feeling of being cradled, but not trapped, and the warmth brings his trembling to a minimum.

“Red Son,” the voice he now recognizes as Sandy calls. “Do you hear what I am saying?”

The demon looks up, meeting the Blue One’s eyes, and gives a short nod.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to. I don’t think you are weak. You are just injured and healing, and that’s okay. I won’t tell anyone,” Sandy’s calm voice is reassuring. But Red Son worries about how much he might’ve just babbled.

Sandy gives him a few more moments to calm down before talking to him again. “I finished working on your bandages. I can get you some tea if you want.” Then he gives a small knowing smile at him. “If you promise not to throw the mug…”

Red Son looks the gentle giant up and down. He slowly shifts into a more comfortable and relaxed position on the bed, and huddles down into the blankets more. He doesn’t smile, but he sounds and feels more like himself in his response. “No promises.”

Sandy’s smile reaches his eyes and he goes off to make more tea.

Red Son manages to not throw the mug this time.

Red Son slowly becomes aware of things little by little at first - the scent of something herbal, something soft and fuzzy brushing against his cheek. But a sting of pain or shiver running up his spine wipes the sensations away like smudged marker on a whiteboard.

Eventually he gets frustrated at the lack of coherency that his surroundings are giving him. There’s an itch tickling the area where his ear meets his neck, so he focuses on that and tries to pull himself into consciousness. A pounding headache greets him, and a feeling of being weighed down makes the process slow. He might’ve fallen asleep and woken up again in his attempts. It’s hard to tell. He tries to move his head, and both the headache and the tickling sensation becomes stronger. He focuses on the latter sensation, its annoyance being the fuel he needs to wake him up further. He tries to move to scratch the itch, but something stops his left arm. It feels tied down and won’t move from its position on his chest. A throb stabs at him in both his arm and his sides when he tries to force it to move.

He lets out a pained groan and finally opens his eyes. Though the room he is in is not particularly lit, the light that shines through some windows causes him to squint at the glint of sun. A shiver trembles through his body and despite the light hurting his eyes, he wishes the sun would cast its rays on him more directly because he realizes he is freezing. That is despite the heavy blankets that are pulled over him, which he now understands to be the cause of the weighed down sensation he was feeling. He is laying down in a bed in an unknown location. He blinks and looks around the room he is in. It’s bathed in blues, with some green plants dotted around the place giving it an almost sea-garden feel. And it is filled with cats. A couple bold ones that were laying on the edge of the bed he is in get up and inch towards him.

The feeling of being observed by the cats and the dawning that he does not know where he is jolts him awake suddenly and he shifts to sit up. A vicegrip squeezes around his arm and chest in this motion. He’s hurt. He groans loudly and hunches over slightly holding his middle with his free hand. He notices that his right hand is bandaged, and the left arm is wrapped in something stiff with a secondary cloth strapping it to his body, making his left arm and shoulder practically immobile. Most of his exposed skin seems to have bandages as well. What happened? Flashes of the confrontation he had with The Monkey King and then his father sweep across his vision. His father attacked him. Hurt him. No, it wasn’t his father’s fault, it was his own fault. His father had been overcome by the very fire he wielded. He tugs at his shirt with his free hand, anxiously. The fabric feels wrong and he further notices that he is not in his usual clothes and is instead in what looks like a loose pinkish-red robe. He was put in different clothes?

A curious meow snaps Red Son’s attention away from his thoughts. One of the cats, a blueish one with a red tuft of fur on its head, had gotten very close to him. He pulls away and yelps, partially in surprise, and partially in pain. The cat, likewise does a little jump, and walks back a few steps before yowling much more loudly behind its shoulder.

Its call seemingly summons someone, as a booming voice yells from another room, “Coming, Mo! Is he awake?!”

Red Son sucks a breath in as a very large, blue-skinned man with a bright orange mohawk steps into view. He recognizes him as one of the Noodle Boy’s companions. It’s the giant blue one, who is very muscular, with hands that look like they could easily wrap around his head and crush him. He’d never come up against this man in a close fight and didn’t know what he was capable of, but he didn’t want to stick around to find out. Instinct pushes him to bolt.

He scrambles the best he can with one free arm and a stiff and injured body to the side of the bed farthest away from the man. He can hear him saying something about ‘Don’t move or you’ll make your injuries worse,’ but he paid them no attention. He hears the large footsteps come closer and he desperately tries to get out of bed. His bare feet touch a too cold floor and another shiver wracks through his body, hitting every sore spot on the way. When he tries to put weight on his legs, they jiggle, and between that and what feels like a knife stabbing at his right ankle it causes his knees to buckle and he falls to the floor in a painful heap.

“Oh dear,” comes the voice of the Blue One as Red Son hears him shift around the bed.

He has to get up! Red Son ignores the pounding in his head and grits his teeth, as he uses the leverage of the bed to right himself. But his feet do not listen to him, and all he can do is push himself farther into the small space between the bed and the wall. The only escape on the end of the bed has been filled in by the hulking form of his enemy. “Let me help.” The large blue skinned man reaches out to Red Son, who shrinks back.

He’s hurt and can’t stand, can barely move, and being backed up between the bed and the wall, he has the distinct feeling of being cornered. His whole body is trembling in a way that he can’t stop as the world seems to box him in. He pushes his back against the wall, wishing he could just disappear into it, and squints his eyes shut.  With as much strength he can muster he yells, trying to keep the fear and desperation out of his voice, “DON’T TOUCH ME!”

A moment passes. When no presence is felt, he cautiously opens his eyes and looks up. He is surprised to see that his shout was heeded and that the large man has pulled his hands away. The man has a look of almost hurt, and a bit of pity on his face. Red Son appreciates neither.

“I’m sorry,” says the Blue One. “I just wanted to make sure you’re not hurt.”

Red Son breathes for a moment, looking the large man up and down. He has knelt down in the gap between the bed and the wall, still blocking Red Son’s exit, but leaving him ample space so that the room feels less oppressive.

“H-hurt…?” Red Son says around a tremble. “O-of course I’m hurt! Don’t you see the bandages, you buffoon!” He tugs absently at the blanket that is hanging part-way off the bed.

“Well, yes I suppose that is a given. I-uh I’m the one who bandaged you. Your other shirt was kinda ripped up so I gave you a spare robe. I hope that’s okay…?” the Blue One says, almost sheepishly.

Red Son manages to tug the blanket off of the bed and pulls it around himself as best he can in the somewhat cramped space. “Well, you could’ve given me something warmer, do you always keep your little shack so freezing cold?!” he says with a sneer, while trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

The man looks almost surprised and looks like he’s about to contradict, but instead says, “Are you cold? I could get you some warm tea to drink!”

Before Red Son can respond, the man sweeps out of the room leaving him to sit there, with his mouth partially hanging open.

Red Son wonders what his plan is. What was the big guy up to? He supposes he could just leave if he wanted. If he could actually stand that is. He looks around and some other curious cats have started crowding around him.

“Go away!” he yells at them angrily. At his yell, he notices something is off. Normally during his outbursts, his hair would flair up. That reminded him of the tickling sensation from earlier. He moves his hand to the itchy spot and finds that his hair is there. Lying flat against his head and draped over his shoulders and down his back. No longer in its usual pony-tail and flickering with his emotions. Before he can dwell on that, the Blue One has entered the room again.

“Now now, kitties, he doesn’t like it when you get too close, so give him space,” the Blue One admonishes the cats. They weave in between his legs, and the man gracefully balances his form around them while carrying a teapot and mug. He places the mug on a tray, and scoots the tray across the floor to Red Son, careful to not get close.

Red Son eyes the green liquid and the blue man, and cautiously picks up the mug. But instead of taking a sip, he holds it close to him, greedily trying to embrace the warmth.

And that’s when he notices something strange again.

 Red Son can’t feel it.

Yes, he can physically feel the cup and the heat on his skin with his hands wrapped around it. But he can’t feel the warmth. Not really. Not with his powers. Not with his whole self. He can’t feel the ebb and flow of the steam that wafts out of the tea. Nor the pulsing of the energy from the warm liquid.

He tries to reach out with his powers and interact with the heat. Pull it in, make it stronger, do something, but he realizes that he can’t. Nothing happens. Shakily taking in a breath, he tries to activate his flames. He commands sparks to dance on his fingers. They do not. He squints his eyes and tries to make his hair flare up like it usually does with his abilities. But instead it continues to lay limply on his shoulders. He attempts to conjure heat from his center in hopes of warming himself up. But it doesn’t work.

He is cold. He feels empty. And it is as if a part of him is cut off from a section of the world that he used to participate in.

He can’t do anything.

He swallows thickly and grinds his teeth. His breaths pick up and his shoulders shudder. He holds the cup in a white-knuckled grip, before angrily throwing it across the floor. Even that motion has no real power behind it, and the mug thunks anticlimactically on the ground, chipping the edge slightly and causing the still warm liquid inside to dribble out lazily across the floor. He sees the steam and is reminded that that is all he can do. Only watch. Not control.

The blue stranger fusses about the spilt liquid and goes about cleaning it up, but Red Son pays him no mind. Instead, he pulls at the blankets around him and buries his face in the covers. It’s too much. The cold. The pain. The deep loss suddenly consuming him. His head feels fuzzy, and his chest is stabbed with pain with each shuddering, fast-paced breath. These sensations buzz together until they take over his entire being and everything becomes void.