Chapter Text
Johnny Cage has lived his whole life assuming he was a beta, and nothing had ever happened before that could make him question it. As far as Johnny knew, his secondary gender meant nothing really. Being a beta meant not having to deal with a whole new layer of problems, and it was something that he learned over time to be okay with. He took great pride in his beta status and never let any alpha control or shame him for it. Johnny married another beta, became a famous movie star, and started living in a huge mansion; what more could anyone want?
Fate, as it would seem, wanted Johnny to do much more than he could have ever thought. After a divorce, grisly adventure, and many, many Kombat matches; Johnny was finally able to return home and begin life anew. He would help introduce the concept of both earthrealm and outerworld through the power of film, bringing the realms closer to eternal peace than ever before. He was now part of something important. He gained enemies, he made friends. After everything, Johnny was a changed man. For the better, he thinks. He doesn't like to think about the materialistic man he was before.
Not that his taste in exotic trinkets has gone away so to speak... but he's able to admit that it's an expensive habit. He cringes to think about how his ex was right. But what is done is done, he supposed.
Johnny tried to reconnect with her after everything. Wanted to see if they could rekindle the flame they once had. As soon as he had gotten back to the mansion, he dialed her number.
He remembers it clearly. He had just gotten back from the little after party at Madam Bo's and had been standing at the kitchen counter getting ready to make dinner when the thought of calling her popped into his head, and he quickly found himself dialing the number without thinking.
"Cris?" His voice is confident with only a hint of nervousness to it. "Cris, baby, we need to talk- I'm so sorry about everything. I'm sorry I disappeared- you wouldn't believe the shit I've seen, but I miss you, and I want to try and be a better hus-"
"Who's this?" A deep, masculine voice rumbles through the phone.
And just like that, the confidence in Johnny's voice crumbles rather quickly. His brow furrows in worry. "I- excuse me? Who is this? Where is Cris?"
"This is her boyfriend, Josh." The voice, or 'Josh' responds mid yawn. A shock runs through Johnny's body at the words. "I'll put Cris on. You a friend of hers?"
The corners of Johnny's lip turn down into a deep frown as his eyebrows furrow even farther. "A friend... uh... yes." Johnny closes his eyes and sighs deeply through his nose as he hears a bit of shuffling and a pause before he hears another voice, this one familiar.
"Hello....?"
"Cris!" Johnny says, excited for a second to hear her voice, before reality kicks in a second later. He says his next words after a pause, all the energy gone from his voice. "Cris, you... you moved on?"
"John, why the hell are you calling me at 10pm?" She sounds exhausted, but Johnny can hardly find it in himself to care.
"You left, and then moved on, just like that?" Johnny spits out. "Did what we have mean nothing to you? All those years together?"
"John I- I'm sorry. It just sort of happened. Besides, when I came home days later, you were gone. You have been gone for over half a year."
"-please take me back." Johnny's voice rushes in quickly and full of desperation. "Please baby, I've- I've seen some shit and I've changed. I can do better. I know I can-"
" 'Johnny Cage'' " She draws out, sarcastically. "Will never change. Besides, I've found someone new. Someone better for me."
"But I love you," As soon as the words spill from him, he tries to ignore how they feel hollow, untrue almost.
The words hang in the air. A year ago, those words would have meant the world to them. A year ago, they'd be whispering those words to each other each night before falling asleep. Between each kiss.
There's a beat of silence.
"The sentiment is not returned."
And then she hung up, leaving Johnny feeling hollow and alone to the quiet of his empty mansion.
