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Liu Kang had created this universe, this timeline, with his own hands, molding the sands of the Hourglass to his own will. He was intimately acquainted with certain arcs he knew he could never change, despite how much he wanted to.

He knew that unlocking Sento would always come at the cost of Kenshi’s eyesight, and all he could hope was that it would be a gentler process than it had been in the past.

So it was heartbreaking, but not surprising, to see Kenshi in front of the closing portal to Outworld with Sento on his back and a red blindfold around his eyes. Liu Kang could see the remnants of blood around it’s edges, and knew that it had not been a kind experience. That cursed knowledge made him ache.

But what made him stop in his tracks, his whole body feeling cold for the first time in eons, was Johnny on the stones of the platform, still and pale and so unlike himself, lying in a pool of blood that spread from a wound on his thigh. 

And from where his right arm had once been.

“By the elder gods,” Liu Kang breathed, and wondered angrily what this had been destiny’s price for.

All he could hear was Kenshi screaming the actor’s name, begging him to wake up. The swordsman held the other man’s face in his hands, tears escaping from beneath his blindfold that were slightly tinted red.

“Oh,” He thought faintly. “At least his tear ducts are intact.”

Kung Lao knelt on Johnny’s other side, one hand on the prone man’s shoulder while the other hovered restlessly. He looked like Kenshi looked and like Liu Kang himself felt; lost. Bewildered.

Terrified.

They had bandaged the arm where it had been removed near the elbow as best they could, creating a tourniquet out of whatever had also created Kenshi’s blindfold, but clearly their work had come undone in their fight to return. The once white gauze also wrapped around Johnny’s thigh was now a deep, wet red.

The blood was soaking into Kenshi and Kung Lao’s knees, but neither man seemed to notice. 

“I have him,” Liu Kang said with a calm he did not truly feel, kneeling beside the actor on his wounded side. He wasn’t even aware he had moved. 

Kenshi was still sobbing, begging Liu Kang to do something, as Raiden gently guided the blinded man out of the way and to his feet. Liu Kang looked up as Kung Lao also climbed gracelessly on unsteady legs, and saw the Shaolin’s pale face- slack with horror- too focused on Johnny to notice anything else.

Liu Kang carefully gathered Johnny into his arms, supporting him around his back and under his knees, and made sure to tuck the man’s head against his shoulder before he rose steadily. His eyes flicked to one of the other monks who had gathered at the portal, and was given a quick nod to his unspoken command to run ahead to inform the infirmary before it was carried out.

Johnny was heavy in his arms in a way that had nothing to do with weight.

“Come. Quickly.” He told the others, seeing the two new faces gathering around his Earthrealm defenders. Raiden and Kung Lao bracketed Kenshi, one with a hand on his shoulder and the other with a hand on his back. The two new friends the group had found hovered on Kung Lao’s other side, looking nearly as concerned as the others.

Almost.

Even from a distance Liu Kang could see Kenshi shaking, his stride uncertain despite the soft glow of blue from under the blindfold that spoke of Sento being his new eyes. Kung Lao just seemed in shock, his gaze restless but unfocused, eyes too wide beneath the brim of his hat. 

Still, the group followed after Liu Kang, any words they said drowned out by the feeling of Johnny’s blood too hot on his skin. 

The fire god laid Johnny down on the bed in the infirmary with a delicacy he had long since thought himself incapable of. As he stepped back the healing monks surged in, surrounding the actor, blocking his view.

Liu Kang looked down at the blood smeared over his arms, soaking into the front of his shirt, and thought “This will never come off.”

He wasn’t thinking about it physically.

He turned to the group gathered toward the entrance. Raiden and Kung Lao were gently cajoling Kenshi toward another healer who stood by patiently, ready to see to the ruin that was once the man’s eyes.

“I can’t leave him,” Kenshi sounded slightly hysterical, shaking his head, trying to move closer to where Johnny was. “I won’t leave him.” Liu Kang didn’t think he’d ever hear Kenshi sound so desperate.

He never wanted to hear it again.

“You will not leave him, Kenshi,” Liu Kang said, patient and understanding. “The healer can tend to your eyes here. But please let him help you.”

Liu Kang may be a god, but he was not above begging if it meant the safety of his friends.

Kenshi relented, letting Kung Lao guide him over to a bed in another corner of the infirmary, where Kenshi could still see the monks gathered around Johnny. Raiden went to follow, but Liu Kang caught his arm.

“I’m afraid introductions are in order. I’m sorry they have to come at this time,” He told the other two who had returned with the defenders from Outworld. “I am Lord Liu Kang, defender of Earthrealm, and god of fire. This-“ He nodded to Raiden, who straightened at his side. “Is Raiden, champion of Earthrealm.”

Syzoth and Ashrah introduced themselves, and Liu Kang felt something loosen a little in his chest knowing the direction the arcs of their lives had taken. 

“I imagine you are quite exhausted after your journey. Raiden can show you around. I know we have empty rooms for you both.”

The two shifted, glancing at each other, before Ashrah spoke, “We are concerned. For the others.”

Liu Kang felt deeply touched that the warriors he had chosen had made such an impact. “They are being cared for, and I promise we will keep you updated.”

They shared a glance again, but both let Raiden lead them away. Liu Kang watched them go, a little afraid to turn back to what was happening behind him. But he knew this was part of his responsibilities.

His defenders would always be a priority.

He looked over at the crowd still around Johnny, then moved toward where Kenshi and Kung Lao were, in the opposite corner. The monk tending to the swordsman had removed the blindfold, and Liu Kang inwardly winced at the sight of Kenshi’s ruined eyes, maintaining his composure by the skin of his teeth. He had seen worse in his lifetimes, but it was always something different to see it on someone he cared about.

Kenshi had wrapped the blindfold around his fist, clutching at it as his wounds were cleaned. Kung Lao sat on a chair beside the bed Kenshi was sitting on, clutching at the wrist of the same hand holding that scrap of red fabric for dear life.

With a jolt, Liu Kang realized he recognized that the blindfold had come from Johnny’s own armor.

None of the trio spoke. The light blue glow of Sento’s power had vanished, and Liu Kang knew the man was left in the dark. Kung Lao was just staring at the reminder of the actor in Kenshi’s hand, his face still pale and eyes still wide. 

“How is the pain?” Liu Kang asked gently as he approached, not missing the way Kenshi tensed briefly.

“Not as bad as it was,” Kenshi answered honestly after a moment. “Syzoth had given us both something to help with that.” 

With a pang Liu Kang realized he was talking about Johnny.

He wanted to know the story, wanted to know what happened, wanted to know what Johnny had paid a steep price for, but he looked at his shellshocked friends and knew it wasn’t the time.

“Syzoth and Ashrah…they helped you?”

“Syzoth’s family had been taken by Shang Tsung,” Kung Lao finally spoke, not looking up. “Was told he had to work for him or his family would be killed,” Something sad flitted across his face, his hand twitching on Kenshi’s wrist, and the swordsman’s face tilted slightly towards him. “Turns out Shang Tsung had already killed them a while ago.”

Kenshi’s free hand covered Kung Lao’s knuckles and Liu Kang could see him squeeze gently before letting go.

“Syzoth helped us escape the lab after that,” Kenshi finished for the Shaolin when it became clear that Kung Lao didn’t trust his own voice anymore. “We ran in to Ashrah in the Forest of Souls. She was looking for Quan Chi.”

Now that caught Liu Kang’s attention. “Quan Chi?”

Kenshi tensed for a moment, and the fire god knew it had nothing to do with the monk still delicately cleaning his wounds. “You know him?”

“I do,” Liu Kang said, taking a breath. “Was he-?”

“Working with Shang Tsung? Yes.” Kenshi answered. Telling the most basic information seemed to distract him from what was happening that he could not see, so Liu Kang let him. “He had this…thing. A soul stealer-“ 

Liu Kang went cold. This was worse than he thought.

“Ashrah helped us defeat him and destroy the soul stealer. We were going to bring him back here since Shang Tsung had escaped but…well…” Kenshi lapsed into silence, either unable or unwilling to continue. Kung Lao squeezed his arm reassuringly.

“There was another one who helped us. His name is Baraka,” The Shaolin offered helpfully. “He has something he called Tarkat. It’s a disease. The princess Mileena-“ Liu Kang did not miss the way both seemed to tense up at the mention of her. “-has it too. Shang Tsung had worked out some way to keep it less noticeable for her. That’s probably why Queen Sindel trusts him so much.”

Liu Kang nodded thoughtfully. It was a lot to take in, and he knew he needed the whole picture to proceed, but he looked at the two drained men in front of him and didn’t have the heart to push further.

“Baraka said he couldn’t risk exposing us to the Tarkat. He stayed behind, but at least we know we have a good ally in Outworld,” Kenshi said in a way that Liu Kang knew he was emotionally distancing himself from the events that had happened. He was trying to do his duty still, but it was taking it’s toll.

“Johnny told Syzoth and Ashrah they should come back with us. That they would be safe here,” The swordsman’s voice was faint now at the mention of the actor, his fist gripping the blindfold so tight there were slight tremors moving through his arm. 

“Ashrah said she’d never had a home before,” Kung Lao’s voice was much like Kenshi’s, and his thumb rubbed circles mindlessly across the wrist under his palm.

“They have good hearts,” Liu Kang said gently. “They are good allies. They are welcome. As is Baraka’s friendship.”

“You don’t even know Baraka.” Kenshi replied, not unkindly. The healing monk had finished and was gathering bandages to wrap over Kenshi’s eyes. The wounded man’s head hung like he was too tired to hold it up anymore.

“But I know Johnny. And I know you two as well,” Liu Kang pushed aside the urge to move closer, to set a hand over both of theirs and reassure them with more than just his words. “And I trust all three of you. Johnny would not have offered them sanctuary here if he thought they were a danger.”

The monk began bandaging Kenshi’s wounds, covering the gauze that had replaced Kenshi’s eyes for the moment with white, and Liu Kang couldn’t help but think that the red of the blindfold suited him better.

“Is he okay?” Kenshi’s voice was small, and shook, and it broke the fire god’s heart all over again.

“He is strong,” This time Liu Kang laid a hand on Kenshi’s shoulder, touching it briefly first to warn the blind man that he was there. 

“The blood-“ Kenshi started, the words strangled.

They were all aware of the blood of the actor soaking their clothes and clinging to their skin, and Liu Kang gripped Kenshi’s shoulder tight.

“He is strong,” He repeated, his words emphatic. 

No one moved for a moment besides the healer monk who secured the end of the bandage then bowed before moving away. Kenshi took a breath.

“He’s strong,” He repeated, voice still unsure.

“He’s strong,” Kung Lao echoed, looking up at Kenshi and squeezing the man’s hand. He sounded firm and far more mature than he normally did, and Liu Kang knew he was being strong for his friends.

“Lord Liu Kang?”

He gave Kenshi’s shoulder one final squeeze before he turned to the monk who had spoken. Liu Kang had insisted on having actually medically trained monks among their numbers, so if someone came back from Outworld with serious injuries they would not have to involve hospitals who asked too many questions. He’d even made sure they had modern medical equipment on hand if they needed.

“How is he?” Kenshi asked before Liu Kang could. The monk glanced at the man before looking back at the fire god.

“We’ve stopped the bleeding and stitched up what we could, but he will need some surgery,” This was of course something serious, but they had experienced surgeons among their numbers, so Liu Kang knew that wasn’t the problem. “He’s lost a lot of blood, and it would be too dangerous to do anything now before he is more stable.”

“My blood type is O negative,” Kenshi said quickly. “I can help.”

“Kenshi-“ Kung Lao said while Liu Kang said “I don’t think-“ simultaneously. Both of them were interrupted by the swordsman.

“Let me help.” He nearly begged.

Liu Kang looked at him for a long moment. Before he could answer, Kenshi spoke again.

“Please. I-I couldn’t protect him-“ Kung Lao shifted in his chair, clearly about to say something, but Kenshi forged on. “Let me do this one thing for him. Please.” By this time he was begging, sounding on the verge of tears, and the raw vulnerability of it made the former Titan ache.

“You need to rest, eat something, regain your strength-“ Liu Kang returned his hand to Kenshi’s shoulder and squeezed to forestall the argument he knew was growing in the swordsman’s chest. “-then you can help him. It will take some time for us to gather the necessary equipment, and Johnny would not forgive me if I let you hurt yourself for his sake.”

He felt a tremble under his palm as his words triggered some unpleasant memory, but Kenshi nodded before Liu Kang could apologize.

“Okay.” He acquiesced, relieved. 

Liu Kang nodded as well, then gave Kenshi’s shoulder a pat when he remembered the man could not see him at the moment before stepping back and letting other monks move in to help get him comfortable. Kung Lao squeezed Kenshi’s arm as he stood up, leaning in to murmur something that made Kenshi nod before he moved away.

Liu Kang watched the Shaolin move over towards where Johnny’s bed was. The actor’s armor had been removed and a blanket pulled up to his bare waist. He was covered in wires connected to monitors that looked out of place in the ancient academy, but so long as they did their job it was irrelevant. He was pale and drawn, the white sheets around him seeming to leech him of color. His right arm- gods, his arm his fist it’s gone- was propped on a pillow pushed against his side, the end swaddled in a thick lump of bandages. 

Kung Lao stood beside the bed, looking down at the man in it, his back a line of tension. Liu Kang wait until the Shaolin sank down in to a chair at the bedside after his shoulders moved with a heavy sigh, before he approached.

“You should get some rest yourself,” The fire god told him gently, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“I told Kenshi I’d watch over him,” Kung Lao replied, firm in a way that told Liu Kang he was taking that promise to heart.

“I will watch over him,” He reassured his defender. “Go. Rest,” He gestured with his free hand toward the empty bed next to Kenshi’s. “They will need your strength to help them through this.”

He knew Kung Lao, knew the man needed to feel useful, like he was pulling his own weight.

It must have been tearing him up inside to know his two friends had been changed so irreparably while he was still in one piece.

That still didn’t mean that Kung Lao was not injured in ways no stitches could close.

“Rest,” Liu Kang repeated, tugging slightly on Kung Lao’s shoulder. The other man still hesitated, then sighed heavily.

“I couldn’t do anything,” He whispered, hands curling into fists on the arms of the chair he was sitting in. “I just-“ The words choked off, and Liu Kang could feel him tremble.

“Go,” This time he took Kung Lao’s arm in his hand and gently pulled him to his feet. When the Shaolin turned, the fire god saw the guilt and anguish on his face. “Rest. I will watch over Johnny,” 

Kung Lao pursed his lips for a moment, then gave a shaky nod and moved away. Liu Kang watched him go, watched him sit heavily on the bed, head bowed and shoulders hunched. 

He saw Kenshi, lying down now, turn his head in Kung Lao’s direction and say something. The younger man seemed to flinch, shrink in to himself, but when Kenshi stretched a hand out toward him Kung Lao closed the distance and took it in his own. Kenshi spoke again, squeezing Kung Lao’s hand, and that seemed to relax him. 

They let go but Kenshi kept his face tilted toward Kung Lao as the monk finally let himself lay down on his side, facing Kenshi’s bed. Liu Kang heard a murmur from Kung Lao and a soft snort from Kenshi before the two warriors seemed to settle down. 

Only then did Liu Kang turn away, back towards the horribly still man on the bed before him.

Johnny seemed impossibly small in a way he never had before. Johnny was a large personality, and an even larger heart, taking up space unapologetically.

Liu Kang knew he sometimes wore that like armor, keeping others at something of a distance, and ached with that knowledge.

He sat down in the seat Kung Lao had relinquished, staring at his old friend.

Before he was aware of what he was doing Liu Kang reached out, laying a hand on Johnny’s arm and closing his eyes, taking a deep breath.

He didn’t do this often. It was a leftover remnant from the Titan power he had willingly relinquished, this ability to peer into the mind of another. He didn’t like to use it, it felt invasive, but he just had to understand, had to see what had happened.

Had to know where he had gone wrong.

Liu Kang reached out with his mind, gently touching at the edges of Johnny’s, searching through the scraps of memories and bits of what made Johnny Johnny to find what he was looking for. He wasn’t going deep, didn’t want to accidentally find something he’d never forgive himself for finding, but Johnny’s mind was a whirlwind that was hard to sort out at first.

Then he saw a glimpse of a familiar face, and felt himself suck in a breath.

Shang Tsung.

Liu Kang touched the memory more firmly, like selecting something on a touch screen phone, and he was standing in something like a lab, watching the memory play out.

He was aware of Johnny’s thoughts even as he watched the events from the outside. He could feel the nervous, almost terrified, energy in the actor’s body as if it was his own. 

“Her? I’m worried about us!” Johnny told Kenshi as the two faced down Mileena, whose face was mutated horribly by the Tarkat.

The ensuing fight played out almost too fast for Liu Kang to follow. He knew Johnny’s mind seemed to run as fast as his mouth did sometimes, and felt a surge of fondness at the familiarity of it.

Then Mileena’s teeth were inches from Johnny’s throat as he struggled to push her away, arms shaking with the effort of trying to hold back the infected princess. Even though Liu Kang knew that Mileena would not succeed in ripping out the actor’s throat, he felt jolt of panic that was only partially projected on him from the memory.

He saw Kenshi grab Mileena, using the element of surprise to rip her away from Johnny, and when Liu Kang saw her lunge for the sais on a nearby table, he felt the cold realization of what he was about to witness.

Kenshi screamed as the blades pierced his eyes, his blood a hot splash across Liu Kang’s face, and it took the fire god a moment to realize what he actually felt was the blood splattering Johnny’s face.

Johnny’s agonized scream of Kenshi’s name was louder than Kenshi’s own.

The swordsman collapsed to the floor, and Liu Kang could feel Johnny’s panic, his growing dread, hear the mantra of “no, no, no, nononono,” in the actor’s mind.

He saw Johnny leap at Mileena’s back, wrapping his arm around her throat and his legs around her waist, trying to unbalance her, to bring her to the floor and hopefully subdue her. 

Liu Kang could feel Johnny fighting with himself to focus on bringing her down first before he checked on Kenshi, and felt the pain in the other man’s chest at the brushing thought that the swordsman was already gone.

All of Johnny’s thoughts were ripped from Liu Kang’s mind, replaced with a stab of pain as Mileena viciously shoved her blade into his thigh. Johnny’s scream was held back by gritted teeth, him focusing solely on clutching her tighter, even as the flexing of his leg brought a fresh wave of pain.

Johnny’s mind was too loud now, Liu Kang couldn’t keep him back, couldn’t keep himself separate and only a spectator to what was going to happen.  

He felt something revoltingly hot and wet on his forearm, felt the piercing of Mileena’s sharp teeth, felt the blinding pain of impossible pressure crushing down, felt the shattering of the bone, felt the crunch of teeth meeting around his flesh, felt a tearing, felt a scream rip it’s way out of his throat, breathless in it’s intensity, then felt no more.

Liu Kang was only able to rip himself from the memory as he felt Johnny fall unconscious, and Kung Lao’s voice screaming Johnny’s name followed him.

His eyes shot open with a gasp, his hand instinctively grasping at Johnny’s arm, and he looked at the other man, expecting to see his face still splattered with Kenshi’s blood, to see Johnny’s own blood gushing from his now severed arm, the screams of Kenshi, of Johnny, of Kung Lao still echoing in his ears.

But Johnny’s face was clean, slack with sleep with only a slight crease between his eyebrows belying the discomfort he must’ve been feeling despite the medication being pumped through his IV, the bandages clumped over the ruin of his wound still white.

Liu Kang looked down at himself, remembering suddenly the blood that soaked into his clothes as he carried Johnny’s limp body away from the portal, and saw it had dried to that deep rusty brown. 

The sight nauseated him a little.

Liu Kang removed his hand from Johnny’s arm with effort, covering his eyes with it as he sucked in a breath. The memory, the intensity of it, lingered stubbornly.

He silently hoped it would not linger like this for Johnny himself.

He let his breath out slowly, only lowering his hand when he felt his own emotions settle. There wasn’t time to have a breakdown, not here, not in front of his friends. There would be time for that later.

Liu Kang was sure it would happen whether he wanted it to or not.

He looked over at the other side of the room. 

Kenshi was lying on his side, curled up close to the edge of the mattress. Kung Lao had abandoned his own bed, choosing instead to sit in a chair at Kenshi’s bedside, his head pillowed on his arms on the mattress with one hand on Kenshi’s wrist. Raiden had joined them at some point, his own chair close beside Kung Lao’s. He mirrored his old friend, head laying on his arms with a hand covering where the other two touched. Liu Kang watched them closely for a moment, and something in his chest loosened when he saw they were sleeping peacefully.

He turned back to Johnny, sitting back in his chair, sorting through the memory. He shied away from what he had seen- what he had felt- Mileena do. He knew the princess was not to blame, knew the devastation Tarkat had wrought in Outworld, but still felt a small twist of anger at what had happened.

Most of that anger he directed at himself.

He was the one who had sent them on this mission. He was the one who had recruited them in the first place.

He was the one to blame for this.

He shook his head. He would not allow himself to spiral. They needed him.

He laid his hand on Johnny’s arm again, letting the warmth of life in his friend soothe his mind. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breath, on the feeling of Johnny’s skin against his fingertips, on the steady beeping from the heart monitor they’d hooked the actor too.

As he slipped into meditation he felt something at the edge of his mind, and it took him a moment to realize what it was.

Sento was reaching out towards him, stretching Kenshi’s memories to the borders of his own like Liu Kang himself had reached towards Johnny’s. He let it touch, confused as to why the sword was seeking him out, and let Kenshi’s memory wash over him.

Pain. 

Excruciating pain.

Darkness.

Liu Kang could not just watch this memory, not really, as it had not been made through sight, but he was able to detach himself somewhat.

He didn’t want to experience whatever was about to happen like he had experienced Johnny’s maiming.

Kenshi became aware of his surroundings slowly, fighting through the overwhelming haze of pain to focus elsewhere. 

The stones beneath him were hard and wet. The air was cold and foul. 

He heard shifting, moving around, along with something else he could not focus on.

Kenshi groaned, forcing himself to move.

“Takahashi?” A rough voice asked, sounding close.

“Baraka?” Kenshi said once he connected the voice with the memory of a face.

Liu Kang could feel the ache in Kenshi’s chest, as profound as if he had felt it himself, at the knowledge that he now had only memories rather than sight.

He also felt, with no small amount of surprise, the satisfaction that Kenshi felt knowing he had protected Johnny.

“Your friend needs you,” Baraka said, still sounding close but shuffling around to keep some distance between them. Kenshi remembered Baraka warning them not to get too close during their first meeting, and Liu Kang felt justified in his assertion that his defenders had chosen a fine ally.

“My friend?” Kenshi said, then cold realization hit him in a wave, and had Liu Kang been standing he would have staggered under the weight of it. “Who? What happened?” Kenshi moved to his knees, hands searching blindly.

“The talkative one, with the blue armor.”

Kenshi was panicking now, his hands blindly searching.

“Over here,” Baraka said, guiding Kenshi forward. Kenshi’s fingers hit something that shifted with his touch.

“Johnny,” He breathed out, and Liu Kang realized with a start he had never heard the swordsman use the actor’s first name before he’d seen Kenshi covered in the man’s blood and begging him to wake up.

“He is bleeding from his leg,” Baraka supplied as Kenshi’s hands moved, trying to orient himself, to pull a mental image into the darkness that felt suffocating now.

Kenshi took a breath, calming himself, and realized he could feel the rise and fall of Johnny’s chest beneath his palm. The relief Kenshi felt knowing Johnny was alive staggered Liu Kang once more.

He laid both hands on Johnny’s chest then moved them in opposite directions, finally getting a mental image of the other man’s position relative to his own.

“His other leg, on the outside,” Baraka acted as guide, allowing Kenshi to find the gash on Johnny’s thigh. He focused for a moment, just resting his fingers on the wound, and determined the bleeding had slowed.

“His arm,” Baraka said, and the hesitation as he said that caught Kenshi’s attention. He had found Johnny’s arm first, could feel it pressed against his leg where he knelt beside the actor, but as he reached for it, Baraka spoke again. 

“His other arm.”

Kenshi furrowed his brow, still trying to understand why the Tarkatan sounded almost remorseful to give him this information. His hand moved up Johnny’s torso, finding his shoulder, then moving down.

Kenshi froze when his hand brushed past the hot, wet mess of Johnny’s wound, and found nothing but air.

His hand hovered in place, suddenly all too aware that the hot liquid burning his skin was Johnny’s blood, then moved back.

He didn’t want to touch, didn’t want to know, didn’t want to feel what he knew he was going to feel, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. 

He touched the ruin that had once been Johnny’s right arm, and sobbed at the knowledge that it was gone.

“Kung Lao. Kung Lao!” Kenshi yelled, grabbing at the wound and feeling building nausea as he wrapped both hands around Johnny’s arm, trying to slow the bleeding. Johnny’s skin was clammy where Kenshi wasn’t stained with the actor’s blood, his body shaking with blood loss. “KUNG LAO!” Kenshi screamed into his personal darkness, hysteria rising.

‘No, please, not him, not him, I saved him, take me, take me, let me die in his place, don’t make me go back without him.’ Ran through Kenshi’s mind, so fast it took a moment for Liu Kang to parse out the words.

“Fuck!” There was shuffling, and suddenly another body was moving past him, Kung Lao’s shaking hands joining Kenshi’s. “I couldn’t stop her, he jumped on her, I didn’t see her move-“ Kung Lao’s words were as frantic as Kenshi’s own thoughts.

“We need bandages,” Kenshi said, voice detached and mind reeling and Liu Kang had to pull himself back once more before his own mind got dragged into the emotions too much.

“Here,” Baraka said, and Kenshi was aware of Kung Lao moving. “I grabbed this, cut right here, this is the only part I touched.” 

There was a sound of fabric ripping and Kung Lao was back. Kenshi just held Johnny’s arm so tight he shook with the effort, letting the other man work. 

“We need something…” Kung Lao muttered to himself. There was another sound of fabric ripping. “Move,” He said, fingers brushing Kenshi’s hands, and the swordsman did as he was told. 

He nearly fell onto his back, catching himself with one hand while the other hovered in the air in front of him like he was prepared to fend off a blow. Kenshi was no stranger to blood on his hands, but Liu Kang could feel him wondering why Johnny’s blood felt worse than anyone else’s.

‘Because you love him,’ Kenshi’s brain supplied, startling the swordsman.

And Liu Kang himself.

The fire god realized with a start that he should not be here, should not be witnessing this, this was too personal, he should not be privy to this knowledge.

But Sento begged him to remain.

‘I can not. This is an invasion of his privacy. His feelings towards Johnny are none of my business.’

‘But we don’t know how to help him.’

And suddenly Liu Kang understood why the souls within the sword had reached out to him. He could feel Kenshi’s pain, his anguish at his failure, breathtaking and heartbreaking in its scope, just like Sento could. He wanted to ease that feeling, to soothe his friend, to calm Kenshi’s mind, just as deeply as Sento did.

He felt like, had the sword been able to, it would have cried at its own helplessness. 

Because he felt the same way.

‘This is not a pain that can be easily taken away,’ He told the myriad souls gently and patiently. ‘It will take time.’

‘But can we help Johnny Cage’s pain?’

And that, brought Liu Kang up short.

‘You know his pain as well?’

‘We are connected to them both now,’

Liu Kang felt his own puzzlement at the choice of words, and before he could stop them, the souls of Sento led him back to another mind, to Johnny’s, just outside where he had connected to Kenshi’s.

He was now in the Forest of Souls, the three Earthrealm defenders and Baraka joined by Ashrah and Syzoth. It was jarring, seeing Baraka in the flesh, but he was grateful to once again be experiencing this from a more outside position.

Kenshi stood tall, his jaw set against the obvious pain he was feeling, his blindfold now in place. Johnny was unsteady beside him, pale and shaking with his arm around Kenshi’s neck while what was left of the other hung bandaged at his side. Kenshi seemed to be the only thing keeping him standing.

They stood as the rest of the group ran ahead to where Liu Kang knew they would fight Quan Chi and destroy the soul stealer, and he didn’t have to be connected to their minds to know they were both yearning to join the fight.

Kenshi began to move away from Johnny, but the actor caught him. “Whoa, big guy, this where you get off,” He said, stepping in front of Kenshi.

Liu Kang saw Kenshi stiffen. “You can’t be serious, Cage.” 

He knew the swordsman wasn’t necessarily angry about being left out of the fight so much as he was angry that Johnny was planning to join it.

He also knew that Johnny didn’t exactly see it that way. 

“Hey, I can still throw a punch with my left,” He said defensively. 

“You can barely stand,” Kenshi said, his voice not unkind.

“We can’t have you tripping us up out there,” Johnny told him, his voice soft.”This fight is too big for me to sit on the sidelines and if something goes wrong you have to get back to Liu Kang.”

The fire god realized what the other man was saying, that knowledge a punch to the gut, and knew he was still somewhat connected to Kenshi’s mind, still experiencing what he felt to a lesser degree. 

“Johnny, no-“ Kenshi said, sounding like he was going to cry.

Liu Kang knew he would survive this, that Johnny came back home along with Kenshi, but the knowledge that he’d tried to sacrifice himself to give them a chance was painful in it’s familiarity.  

“Give me your sword,” Johnny said, still soft. Liu Kang could see him looking at Kenshi with something he refused to name.

“Cage-“

“Please?”

Kenshi still hesitated, but removed his sword from his back, holding it out in his hands. Johnny gently took it from him, setting it on the ground out of the way before removing Sento from his own back and setting it with reverence into Kenshi’s hands, never looking away from his face.

Liu Kang saw what Kenshi could not. The tears shining in Johnny’s eyes at what the actor thought was their final goodbye, the soft adoration as he gazed at Kenshi’s face, and, beneath all that, the absolute love that blazed like a sun in it’s intensity.

Not for the first time in all his lifetimes, Liu Kang saw how beautiful his old friend was.

Kenshi’s hands closed around the sword, and Liu Kang heard his breath catch in his throat when he realized what he was holding.

“No, Johnny, I can’t, not while you-“ He began, shaking his head.

“You saved my life,” Johnny told him, first covering one of Kenshi’s hands- still clutching the blade- with his own, then laying the flat of his palm on Kenshi’s chest, over his heart. 

“It’s yours.” He told Kenshi, and Liu Kang knew he didn’t just mean the sword.

Johnny moved away from Kenshi before the man could find the words, running toward the fight.

The memory jumped around, disjointed by the rush of combat. He saw Johnny jump into the fray, still catching himself trying to throw a punch with a hand that was no longer there. He saw the others notice him in the thick of it, trying to protect him when they could, but it was too chaotic.

He saw Ermac throw Johnny, saw how the actor shook as he tried to push himself up before dropping limply back to the ground.

He saw Johnny’s blood begin to soak the bandages.

He saw Kenshi charge into the battle, Sento held in both hands, a glow building behind the blindfold that had come from Johnny’s armor as the power of the ancestral sword was unlocked by Kenshi’s desire to protect Earthrealm, to protect his friends.

To protect Johnny.

He saw Kenshi and Ashrah come out victorious, saw Kenshi immediately scramble over to where Sento showed him Johnny was, shaking in terror that he was too late.

He saw the way Kenshi’s whole body sagged with relief when Johnny smiled at him.

The memory jumped some more. 

He saw them in Sun Do, disguising themselves as they moved through the festival with an unconscious Quan Chi with them.

He saw General Shao intercept, and Quan Chi’s escape, and the way the group quickly abandoned their plans when Johnny swayed into Kenshi and they saw the blood dripping from his soaked bandages.

“K-Kenshi, Kenshi, wait,” Johnny gasped out, forcing the other man to stop right in front of the portal despite the fact that his remaining arm was around Kenshi’s neck and he was practically being carried at this point.

“Johnny, we don’t have time!” Kenshi turned his head, looking down at where Johnny was nearly unconscious against his side.

Johnny’s eyes flickered down to Kenshi’s lips, and he surged forward, kissing the other man.

Before Kenshi could move, Johnny was a dead weight, pulling Kenshi through the portal, leaving the swordsman to try to catch him as they fell.

Liu Kang could hear Kenshi screaming Johnny’s name as he ripped himself out of the memory.

He now stood on a different plane, aware of the edges of own mind, now separate from any others.

Before him stood the flickering and shifting blue souls of generations of the Taira clan.

‘We wanted you to understand.’ They spoke softly with a thousand voices as one. 

‘I understand your wish to help Kenshi, but I’m not sure I understand why you wish to help Johnny.’

The voices paused. ‘He showed us reverence. Respect. Gave us a place of honor in his home. Understood our history. We had not been treated with such kindness in a long time.’

Liu Kang would have smiled, had he a physical form. ‘You saw his heart.’

‘As did Kenshi.’ They replied.

He considered the souls for a moment. ‘You wish to protect him.’

‘We will protect him, through our ancestor.’

Liu Kang waited. He knew there was more.

‘But we know we cannot be everywhere.’ The voices finally said.

‘You want me to help you.’

‘Yes.’

‘You showed me this, because you wanted me to understand why he is worthy of protection.’

‘Yes.’

He wanted to smile again, to chuckle at the way the universe moved and brought everything together without his interference. 

‘There was no need,’ He told them.

Then he showed them.

They saw the way he shaped the timeline, felt his heartbreak at his own failures, experienced his joy at reuniting with his friends.

He let them see the other timelines- glimpses of Johnny and Kenshi and a myriad of other souls fighting to protect the realms and each other. 

He showed them, and they knew, that he would do whatever he could to protect Johnny, to protect Kenshi, to protect Earthrealm and this timeline and this peace he worked so hard to create.

Because, to the point of madness itself, he had always prayed for the happiness of this world.

‘You…we did not know-‘

‘No one was meant to,’ He explained gently. ‘I may have shaped this world, but that is no longer who I am, nor who I wish to be. I set everything in place, then gave up that power. I never wanted to lose who I was to the Hourglass.’ He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. ‘Please, never doubt that I will do what I can to protect Johnny, and that you will always have an ally in me.’

‘We don’t know how to help,’ The thousand voices said after a moment, and Liu Kang never thought he would hear such a cacophony sound so small.

‘Patience. Time. Love. We must let them find their own way. But please trust that they will.’

The souls began to flicker out as Liu Kang drew away from them politely.

‘Thank you.’ They said before vanishing.

Liu Kang opened his eyes, and was startled to feel tears drying on his own cheeks. The infirmary was silent, telling him his defenders were still asleep. He took a breath, and wiped the tears away.

There was a gasp across the room and Liu Kang was already moving, steadying Kenshi by his shoulder as the man sat up in bed. 

“Johnny-“ He sounded frantic, hands searching, and the blue light of Sento bloomed to life under his bandages.

“He is right there,” Liu Kang reassured him, waiting for Kenshi’s face to tilt towards him, indicating he could see, before gesturing across the room to where the actor lay. He felt Kenshi’s entire body sag in relief. 

“I thought-“ Kenshi’s voice caught in his throat, and Liu Kang heard him swallow.

“It was a dream. Nothing else,” He reassured the swordsman, laying his hand on Kenshi’s back.

“A dream,” Kenshi said faintly, and Liu Kang could feel him staring at Johnny.

He waited until he felt Kenshi’s shaking subside before drawing his hand away. He expected Kenshi to lie down again, but he remained where he was.

“Do you want to see him?” Liu Kang asked him gently.

“Yes,” Kenshi breathed, like it was a relief.

Liu Kang let him get up, ready to steady him again if needed as Kenshi crossed the room to Johnny’s bedside. He sat down in the chair Liu Kang had left, and after a moment took Johnny’s hand, cradling it in both of his own.

The fire god was prepared to leave him alone, to let him collect himself in peace, but Kenshi spoke again.

“He was trying to protect me,” He spoke like he was in a dream. Liu Kang just stood at his side, setting his hand on Kenshi’s shoulder again. “Kung Lao told me that after Mileena…” He trailed off. Liu Kang’s eyes moved from Johnny’s sleeping face to Kenshi’s, and he saw tears roll silently down the swordsman’s cheeks from under his bandages. “In the forest of souls, he told me to stay back. Said that if the fight went wrong I had to get back here to warn you,” Kenshi shuddered under his hand. “He had lost so much blood he could barely stand and he still told me to stay while he ran in to fight.”

Kenshi bowed his head, the tears coming steadily now. 

“He felt so guilty,” He finally continued when he found his voice again. “Said what Mileena had done was his fault. That I’d only been trying to protect him and I paid for it with my eyesight,” Kenshi’s voice was almost painfully thick now. “But I know what he did,” He sniffed, and Liu Kang found himself rubbing his thumb against the man’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. “He tried to protect me, and he paid for it with his arm.” 

Kenshi broke down, beyond words at this point. Liu Kang moved without a thought, bending down to wrap his arms around the trembling man’s shoulders, pressing his cheek against the back of his friend’s head as his own tears began to fall. Kenshi moved one hand from Johnny’s to clutch hard at Liu Kang’s arm across his chest as he wept.

***

Johnny’s hand was warm on Kenshi’s where it wrapped around Sento. “You saved my life,” The hand moved, and before Kenshi could mourn it’s loss, he felt it press on his chest, over his heart. “It’s yours.”

Then they were in front of the portal back to Earth and he barely had a moment to look at Johnny’s face, still handsome even in the greyscale of his new sight, before the actor’s lips were on his, warm and trembling.

He didn’t even have a chance to react, to kiss the other man back, before Johnny went limp.

“JOHNNY!”

Kenshi sat up with a gasp, immediately looking for Johnny.

The actor was exactly where he had been for the last four days- sleeping in a bed in the infirmary. And Kenshi was exactly where he had been that entire time- sitting in a chair at his bedside, holding his hand.

The monks had moved a bed closer to Johnny’s so Kenshi could sleep somewhere more comfortable than sitting up in a chair, but it still felt like it was too far away. Kenshi could only relax when he felt Johnny’s hand in his, warm and still but alive.

Johnny had not woken up since he’d collapsed through the portal from Outworld, Kenshi falling after him to try to catch him. The healers and Liu Kang had given the okay for Kenshi to donate his blood, and once Johnny had been more stable he’d been taken into surgery so they could clean up the mess Mileena had left behind. They said he was doing well, his vitals strong and no sign of possible infection.

But he still hadn’t woken up.

Kenshi bowed his head, pressing his forehead against where Johnny’s hand was held in both of his own. The steady beeping of the heart monitor, along with the sound of Johnny’s breathing, was soothing.

A lump lodged itself in his throat when he remembered holding Johnny’s face in his hands, the skin clammy from blood loss, and begged him to wake up as Liu Kang watched and hot blood soaked his knees. He’d been too panicked to check for a pulse, convinced that the actor was genuinely gone.

Convinced that once again he had failed someone he loved, and lost them in the process.

He swallowed, reflexively squeezing Johnny’s hand. He didn’t know when their relationship had changed. They had been arguing since the day Kenshi broke into Cage’s home to steal Sento, but at some point it had smoothed into something friendlier; almost playful. Johnny still managed to push his buttons, and Kenshi had thought they would just always be rivals and reluctant allies, but never friends.

Then Mileena had been going for Johnny’s throat with her teeth, and Kenshi had given his eyesight to save him. Because Kenshi realized with a bolt of sudden clarity as he pulled the infected princess off that he didn’t want to face a world without Johnny Cage in it.

“Wake up. Please.” He whispered, voice thick. It was late. Kenshi had finally convinced the others to go sleep in actual beds in their rooms, leaving him and Johnny alone. He understood their concern- was touched by it- but he also just wanted to not feel the need to be strong for them. He knew they wouldn’t judge him, Liu Kang treated him no differently after Kenshi had broken down crying in front of him, but he just felt too raw in his grief.

“Come on, Cage, you know it was an asshole move, kissing me and not giving me a chance to kiss you back,” Kenshi continued, tears rolling down his cheeks even as he smiled, the movement of the corners of his lips brief and barely there.

Johnny’s hand twitched.

“Johnny?” Kenshi breathed as his head shot up, immediately looking at the other man’s face. There was a small twitch in his brow, his jaw, and Kenshi started to worry that he was in pain again. “Johnny,” He reached out, cupping the actor’s cheek in his hand while giving Johnny’s hand a squeeze, holding it harder. “Come on, open those eyes for me,” His thumb rubbed over the man’s cheekbone.

He watched intently, cataloguing every small movement of Johnny’s face before finally, finally, those light brown eyes fluttered open. Kenshi huffed out a soft laugh of relief that sounded a little like a sob.

“Hey, there you are,” Kenshi said, his voice soft and thick with emotion, tears still sliding down his face.

“K-kenshi?” Johnny’s voice was hazy and barely there and the most beautiful thing Kenshi had ever heard in his entire life.

“I’m here,” Kenshi told him before lifting Johnny’s hand, still wrapped in his own, to his lips. “I’m here,” He whispered against the other man’s knuckles.

“You’re okay,” It didn’t seem possible for one person to sound more relieved than Johnny did in that moment.

“I am,” He reassured the actor, pressing kisses against the hand in his. “I’m okay because you’re alive.” 

Kenshi stood before he could overthink it, leaning over and pressing his lips against Johnny’s. “You’re alive, you’re alive,” He murmured, kissing Johnny over and over.

Johnny just grasped his hand tightly, and kissed him back.

***

Liu Kang stood in the doorway to the infirmary the next morning, smiling softly. Kenshi was lying in the bed with Johnny, an arm around the actor’s shoulders with the man’s head pillowed on his chest. Their hands were clasped tightly, fingers tangled on Johnny’s stomach. They were both sleeping peacefully, Kenshi’s face pressed into Johnny’s hair.

The fire god let himself watch them for a moment, basking in the peace they had found, before quietly leaving.