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English
Series:
Part 9 of ghost's johnshi collection <3
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Published:
2023-10-17
Words:
2,145
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1/1
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Talk To Me

Summary:

Johnny suffers from chronic nightmares after their trip to Outworld. He calls Kenshi.

Notes:

something soft bc i love them- please enjoy <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Johnny can hear the clock in the hall ticking. It's steady, and it's one of the only things other than the fan that helps keep the tinnitus at bay.

He can feel the soft cotton sheets under his hands, can feel the plushness of his pillow and the warmth of the covers.

He knows he's in his bed, safe in his more modest house, knows there's cameras outside to watch the doors and that all the windows downstairs are locked.

And yet he feels all of that comfort and safety slip away the moment he passes out, his head replaying the memories of Shang Tsung's laboratory, hearing Kenshi scream in anguish.

He gets knocked out, sees himself as he's dragged to the dungeon cell and thrown in with little care. He can feel the ache in the back of his head, feels the pain of opening his eyes to the new environment and feels the panic as his heart races as his brain catches up to him.

"Kenshi," Johnny breathes, scrambling to his feet and kneeling next to him, inspecting his eyes, checking for debris or any still open wounds.

He can hear himself swear, knows the whole spiel by heart, and they eventually get out and get surrounded by the experimental Tarkattan's. Johnny gets thrown into a cage, can feel the burn of electricity and the sting of failure as he watches Kenshi get thrown in right next to him.

He starts to black out, the voltage enough to hurt and eventually enough to subdue.

And then he hears his cage get opened, feels himself start to fall forward but is far too close to fainting to do anything about it.

He's caught, and he hears more screams.

And he realizes it's Kenshi, still caught in that cage and with the voltage amped up.

And now he knows it really hurts, can see where it crackles around him like it's dancing.

Johnny goes to tell Baraka to rip the bars away, to get him out, but he spins and no one's there.

And he spins back and he's back in the upstairs lab, watching Kenshi get his eyes taken out again, hears him scream, and he screams right back.

And Kenshi falls, and the world falls away too, and Johnny slides to his side and cradles his head and breathes hard as he checks for a pulse.

He knows Kenshi is alive, they make it out of here together with everyone else, but the need to make sure is so much stronger than the fact that he knows.

So he checks, and he's proven right; his swordsman is alive.

He lets out a sigh of relief, his eyes slipping shut, but then he's hearing Kenshi scream again, and he's screaming right back.

And he slides again, and checks for a pulse, and Kenshi is fine.

And then Kenshi grabs him, pulls him down by his collar and barely above a whisper is speaking, mumbling, and Johnny strains his ears.

"You killed me, you let this happen, you failed me, it's your fault, Cage, your fault!"

And Johnny squeezes his eyes shut and he can feel the breeze of the fan in his room, can feel the soft cotton sheets under his hands, can feel the warmth of his covers and can hear that stupid ticking from the hall.

But he can still hear Kenshi, can still feel the cold wood underneath his hands, can still smell the stench of rotting and burnt flesh and he can't tell where he is anymore.

And he doesn't realize until it's too late but he's breathing hard and fast, and suddenly he feels like he can't breathe, and he opens his eyes and...

Mileena is holding him by the throat, he can feel the cut on his collarbone sting, can feel his airway closing tighter and tighter, and then he sees a blur of red.

And by the time he goes to warn him Kenshi is already screaming, and Johnny is screaming right back.

And then he's upright, shouting into his empty room, the fan blowing back at him and the clock ticking in the hall.

His heart is beating a mile a minute, can feel it thumping against his chest as if it's trying to escape.

He does a check, presses his hands to his neck, to his collarbone, reaches to his side as if Kenshi would be there.

And of course, he wasn't.

And Johnny sighs, his hand resting on the cold space next to him, his other hand pressed into his brow.

He feels like an idiot for even thinking Kenshi would be next to him, even though he knows that he dreams of it whenever he isn't having these nightmares.

Johnny wishes so badly to have Kenshi here with him, to have him near and close and safe.

And he wants to be gentle with him, wants to cradle his face and brush his thumbs over his cheeks and stare into his face and take his features in and make him breakfast, and lunch, and dinner, and wants to have movie marathons and cuddle on the couch and press kisses to every scar he's ever had and will ever have and he wants Kenshi here.

And he hadn't realized he had moved at all until he was hearing the ringing of his phone, Kenshi's name displayed over the interface.

And Johnny waits. Let's it ring.

And he checks his clock, sees it's 4 am, and does the math. It's 8 pm in Tokyo, and he knows Kenshi is still awake, probably getting ready for bed and is already laying down, listening to an audio book or meditating.

And for a moment he feels guilty, calling Kenshi in the evening and disturbing his routine.

But John Carlton is a selfish man.

"Hello?" Comes Kenshi's answer, and it gives nothing away. Johnny knows his swordsman knows it's 4 am in LA, he's seen the double clock he has displayed on his phone.

"Hey, Ken," Johnny answers back, and there's a beat of silence, Kenshi thinking over Johnny's very few words. He'd said them with no gusto, none of the oomf that the Johnny Cage usually carried.

Kenshi knew he was talking to Johnathan Carlton.

"How are you?" Kenshi presses, and Johnny knows that this an out. Kenshi is smart, and the one thing he knows very well is his Johnny.

"I'm alright." Johnny lies, and they both know it's a lie. Kenshi has always been able to read through Johnny's words, and the few times they had bonded telepathically Kenshi had seen the kind of words and memories that Johnny had floating around.

"That's good. It's pretty late over there," Kenshi added, and Johnny sighed.

"Yeah. It's four." He answers, and he hears Kenshi hum.

"What are you doing up so late, angel?" Kenshi pokes, and Johnny let's out a shaky breath.

"I, uh... nightmares." Johnny gets out, and for a moment he thought he'd choke on the word.

"Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me to talk?" Kenshi asked, and Johnny always felt like he was relieved of his burdens whenever Kenshi talked for him.

Not at him, not to him, but for him. Talking because he knew Johnny needed to listen for a change.

"Talk to me." Johnny pleaded, and he heard the shuffling of fabric and a gentle relaxed sigh before Kenshi started to talk.

Kenshi would talk about any and everything, would go on for hours for Johnny.

He talked about the shows he was keeping up with, would fill Johnny in on the movies the movie star had recommended and would give him his review, would sometimes talk about his family, but Johnny's favorite was when Kenshi would start to get tired enough to talk in Japanese.

Johnny had always loved Kenshi's voice, hearing him speak English was a wonder and something that made Johnny swoon.

But hearing him speak in Japanese, Johnny thought he sounded so beautiful. He wished he could hear him go on forever.

"Speaking of my family, my sister shared our mother's recipe for gyudon with me. The next time I'm in town, I'll make it for you to try, she's perfected the recipe over the years. And I can teach you how to make edamame, I know you love to snack on those now," Kenshi rambled, and Johnny hummed along, gave small affirmations here and then so Kenshi knew he was still listening.

"I know you enjoyed natto the last time I brought some to the states with me. Should I bring some more next time? I know Syzoth had a hard time with it," Kenshi chuckled, and Johnny hummed a laugh, the two remembering how Syzoth couldn't put his tongue back in his mouth for a few minutes as he tried to get over the taste.

Johnny should have guessed that since Syzoth couldn't eat most Earthrealm foods that fermented soy beans wouldn't be their best option for him.

"I'm very appreciative of your help with everything, by the way. I know I say it a lot, but it was a big thing for me." Kenshi went on, and Johnny hummed, hoping that Kenshi could hear his mind over the phone.

"I know you always say it's no big deal, but you're part of the reason my family is free now," Kenshi went on, and Johnny sighed.

Kenshi went on for a little bit longer, moved on to the soap opera that Raiden and Kung Lao had dragged him into, talking about the characters like he knew them personally.

Johnny supposed that after watching their lives for months on end, maybe he did.

Johnny ignored the stream of light that peaked from between his blackout curtains, the same way Kenshi ignored the exhaustion seeping into his bones. The two were about the same distance from sleep now, Kenshi still rambling.

It had turned to Japanese almost an hour ago, but Johnny was happy listening to him go on. The hums from him started to get farther apart, and eventually ceased all together.

Kenshi went on anyway, another half hour of talking before he too fell asleep.

The swordsman always slipped into Japanese once he got too tired, but he also slipped into it when he couldn't hold himself together anymore.

He knew Johnny called because he was the center of his nightmares, knew because he had been bunked with the man when he had screamed himself awake, screamed Kenshi's name.

He still remembers that first night, staying unmoving and waiting for Johnny to just go back to bed. But he didn't.

Johnny had kneeled by Kenshi's bedside, his shaky breathing and shakier hands resting over Kenshi's arm, his fingers pressed to his pulse.

He only sighed in relief when he had confirmed that Kenshi was alive, was okay.

Kenshi, some nights, would talk and talk and talk even though he never really liked to.

But for Johnny, he'd do anything.

And once he was tired enough, he couldn't stop himself from saying so. And so he would let himself slip back into Japanese, would pour his heart out to Johnny in a language he didn't know.

"I love you, so much. You're my starlight, my sunshine, you're the warmth I needed in my life. I cherish every moment with you and I wish I could be there with you when you wake up from these nightmares. I want to be there to hold you, to show you I'm fine. I want to spend time with you, even if we're sitting in silence. I want to hold your hand, want to kiss your cheeks, want to hold your face and retrace your features and see you again. Let me, Johnny, let me."

The calls didn't end until one of them woke up.

Usually Johnny, a few hours later, grabbing his phone and whispering a good night and a sleep well before pressing the red end call button and sighing.

He always waited, just a few minutes, to see if Kenshi had woken up and texted him in response to his words.

They never came, and Johnny knew it was because he was still asleep, because by the time he woke up at 10 am, it was still 2 am for Kenshi.

But he waited anyway, because weirder things had happened than one of them being awake at 2 am.

Johnny still smiled, staring at the small stream of light that filtered in through his window. It was a simple thing, but thinking back to Kenshi's rambling always made him feel warm.

And he always sent a text to him, something sweet and excited so Kenshi knew he was always welcome in Johnny's home.

Johnny stared at the ceiling.

He hated those nightmares.

But they brought him one of his favorite things.

Notes:

ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ sᴀʏ ʜɪ :) ᴏʀ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ!!

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