Chapter Text
Johnny jolted up from his cold and lonely bed, the only thing accompanying him was the same nightmare that replayed every night. He could picture it all too well — the pace his heart ran when he saw Mileena jump at Kenshi, the feeling of blood that splattered on his face yet he couldn’t seem to close his eyes, all he could do was watch as his best friend got his eyes jabbed out. He squeezed his eyes shut from the thought. It was all too much. For a second, he couldn’t help but wonder if this is how Kenshi saw the world nowadays– or I suppose he couldn’t see the world nowadays. It had been months since he was set free from the duties of being one of Earthrealm’s defenders, but he was never set free of the guilt he had.
It should have been him that day.
He scrubbed his hands up and down his face until he could feel a different sensation. Something different from the fluorescent lights that dimmed Shang Tsung’s laboratory, something different from the screams of both himself and Kenshi. He kept going for a while, he yearned to feel okay. He severely wished that Cris could be next to him once more, that he could have someone to talk to when he had nightmares. But there he was, in bed, alone.
He rubbed and rubbed, up and down, over and over again. It was unreasonable to think but maybe the blood would come off then if he rubbed now. Why can’t all these damn nightmares just go away? But his strange ritual was disturbed by a vibration on his nightstand.
Brr. Brr. Brr.
Johnny let out a deep sigh before reopening his eyes once more. His eyes fluttered and squinted as he tried to make out the name that flashed on his nightstand. Johnny was always very good at answering phone calls with speed, being in the film industry and all. It wasn’t difficult for him to shout out the words, “This is Johnny Cage speaking”. Sometimes he wondered if it was stupid that he still always answered the phone that way. But that was who he was. His eyes finally fully opened as he adjusted to the light on his screen, Kenshi.
Shit. It was Kenshi.
Kenshi hadn’t called in months, he didn’t call to begin with. He was the type to despise texting and calling. Johnny was always the one to call but after a while, he worried he was disturbing the swordman too much. Whether it was because of habit, of being in the Yakuza, or simply disliking not seeing a person face to face, he never called. Johnny brushed his hair back, preparing to start the call like he always did. With no issue he immediately grabbed his phone, placing it to his ear as his fingertip tapped on the screen to answer. Before he could start with his usual greeting, Kenshi spoke.
“Hey, Johnny. It’s Kenshi.”
Of course, he knew it was Kenshi, but he still paused. Maybe a small part of him didn’t know he was talking to Kenshi.
“Hey, Ken!”, the actor heard his own voice creek. Man, he still had his morning voice but he attempted to project his voice regardless.
Kenshi’s voice echoed, although the audio wasn’t perfect, Johnny couldn’t help but feel soothed by his steady tone. The thoughts of his repeated nightmare faded for a bit, even if it was for a low-quality and slightly muffled audio.
“I’m sorry to call you so late”.
Johnny glanced around his dark room, locating the big wall clock he bought. It held elegant gold with Roman numerals, it barely shined in the shadows of his room. With a bit of squinting, he deciphered that it was 2:34 AM.
“But I need you to pick me up. I should have called earlier but I didn’t.”
The actor sprang up. Pick him up? Where could he be? The man had a lot of questions yet he found himself getting out of bed, preparing to leave before Kenshi could even disclose his location.
“Yeah,” he paused before he nodded his head to himself, “I can pick you up.”.
"Thank you, Johnny" he mumbled. Kenshi heard the sounds of bed sheets shuffling on the other end, a sign that Johnny was up. A small pang of guilt rang in his chest. "I'm at LAX."
“I’ll be there soon, Tattoo. Sit tight!”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Sit tight. Kenshi had been sitting tight. As he heard the sounds on his phone that indicated the phone call was over, he moved his head. Kenshi had forgotten to move as he didn’t have Sento and wasn’t necessarily worried about his surroundings as he sat in the airport seats. He had nobody to look at since he had nobody to talk to. His neck popped as a deep exhale escaped him. He hated disturbing Johnny. Yes, they were best friends, but he still hated every second of uttering the words that he was at LAX.
The former Yakuza member always hated to ask for favors, especially after going blind. He knew he didn’t need the help. He didn’t want the help. In Japan, he always spent time by himself. Just him and his walking stick if he wasn’t off fighting a threat. After the pain of a 15-hour flight and the pain of figuring out how to bring a sword on said flight, he realized he had no place for the night. In all honesty, he thought of asking Johnny first anyway. He wanted to see the beloved actor once more. However, Johnny hadn’t called him in a while. Kenshi simply assumed he busied himself with being a director. Maybe Johnny got bored of him.
The blind man had sat around thinking he could just stay at a random terminal for the night, there was no need to disturb anybody.
The man was stupid and stubborn enough to sit in the airport for an hour, listening to the sounds of people rolling their suitcases, talking about how fun their vacations would be, or businessmen yelling over the phone. Maybe he was nosey or simply too conscious of everything around him. That’s all he really was without Sento, a pair of ears. Kenshi thought it would be easy to stay at the airport, many nights he did the same in Japan. But something about LAX just sucked. The static speaker that echoed names from time to time finally got to him. He couldn’t stand being here any longer.
After picking his phone up and down, struggling to say the words, he finally said: “Hey Siri, call Johnny Cage”.
However, Siri had other plans. “Sorry, I could not find a ‘Johnny Mage’ in your contacts.”
Kenshi exhaled a deep, exhausted sigh. “Hey Siri, call Johnny Cage.”
“Sorry, I could not find a ‘John Cage’ in your contacts.”
Another sigh, even heavier this time. “Hey Siri, call…,” he gritted his teeth, “Johnny Asshole Cage.”
There was a brief, tense silence. Kenshi realized that he was holding his breath, hoping he hadn’t shouted it too loud in the crowded airport. At the same time, the realization hit him hard—he was actually calling the idiot actor.
“Calling… Johnny Asshole Cage.”
At that point, Kenshi simply couldn’t summon the energy to care anymore even if his phone was on speaker.
Alas, he finally called and was waiting for his friend to pick him up. He swiftly grabbed his walking stick and began to decipher LAX’s many pick-up stations.