A Release

Summary: Grief and guilt can leave psychological scars. Kenshi might not be able to see in the conventional way anymore, but he can’t miss the wounds in Reptile’s soul
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for Mortal Kombat 1 (the new 2023 game); references to violence and canon character death; AU; a small amount of self-harm

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Waiting for the right time to act was far easier said than done, especially now that Kenshi had lost his sight. Sento had given that back to him, at least in a way, and the blindfold he wore made the pain that much more bearable. Still, he’d be happier once Liu Kang told them what the next stage in his plan was. After all, once his home was safe…once Earthrealm was safe…he’d be one step closer to freeing the rest of his clan. And surely what he had to face now would be easier, considering what he’d faced already.

After the monks had treated his wounds and Liu Kang had indicated he wasn’t immediately needed, Kenshi had thought about going to find the others, but he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to face any of them, even Johnny…or maybe that should have been especially Johnny. Kenshi had learned that the man was far more than the vain movie star he’d initially come across as in their first meeting, but Kenshi didn’t want to hear the pity he knew would be in Cage’s voice, even if he wouldn’t be able to see it on his face.

And besides, there were two more people who’d joined them. Neither were human, though both could pass as such with little trouble. Ashrah seemed to have no difficulty settling into Earthrealm, accepting it at the ‘home’ that had been offered to her. Syzoth, on the other hand….

The Zaterran’s entire family had been murdered by Shang Tsung. During their escape from the sorcerer’s hideous dungeons, there’d been little time for any of them to think, to mourn their losses, to tend to wounds both physical and mental. Kenshi didn’t know if losing his eyes had left him open to ‘seeing’ in other ways, or if perhaps he would have always known that the grief and guilt Syzoth had to carry needed tending just as surely as his physical wounds had done. Perhaps it didn’t matter, though. He did know it was there…and maybe neither of them knew each other that well, but Syzoth had helped the pain where his eyes had been. And they’d fought alongside each other in much the same way Kenshi had the other Earthrealm champions. What better way was there to form bonds of friendship, perhaps even brotherhood?

Finding Syzoth in the courtyard was easy. Kenshi stood a few feet away, Sento’s ability helping him to watch the Zaterran as Syzoth knelt on the ground in his human form, speaking words in a murmur too indistinct for Kenshi to make out.

He thought Syzoth was aware of his presence, though the Zaterran didn’t raise his head, or turn in Kenshi’s direction. The ability that had been gifted to him allowed Kenshi to see forms and shapes, to see the world in shades of grey…but the world of colour was lost to him now. He’d seen the blood when Syzoth had been wounded, but it was his own imagination that had provided the green colour that likely made up the bodily fluid. After all, Syzoth had said himself that his people were cold-blooded. Like lizards. Or reptiles.

“Do you need more information from me?” Syzoth broke into Kenshi’s thoughts. “I have told Liu Kang everything I can consciously remember, but if you have more questions for me, that is your right.”

“No.” Kenshi focused his attention on Syzoth once more. “I only want to talk.”

“To…talk?” Syzoth repeated, his confusion obvious. “What is there to talk about?”

Kenshi didn’t see any point in dancing around the subject or playing with words. He had the feeling that Syzoth would respond better to blunt language than pretty platitudes. “You told Baraka to kill you.”

“I thought….” Syzoth lowered his head once more. “I believed…that Shang Tsung would save my family.” A harsh, bitter note crept into his voice as he continued, “I should have known better. I saw how evil he was. What he did. What he was going to do. I was a fool,” he whispered.

“No,” Kenshi disagreed. “He found what you loved the most and exploited it for his own gain. He manipulated you and used you. You were as much a victim as those he kept prisoner and experimented on.”

“I could have done something. I could have tried to free some of those…some of those who he hurt.” Syzoth’s hands curled into fists.

Kenshi could see the point where nails pierced skin and blood trickled from Syzoth’s hands. He reached out and grasped one clenched fist, saying softly, “Hurting yourself isn’t the answer.”

Syzoth looked down at Kenshi’s hand on his, then up into his face. “There is nothing else.”

The note of despair, of very real pain in Syzoth’s voice, spoke to Kenshi. Maybe he couldn’t help in the battle for Earthrealm right now, but here was something he could help with. He let go of Syzoth’s hand and directed softly, “Follow me.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and began walking away, heading back into main building and towards the room he’d been given.

Syzoth didn’t speak, but Kenshi could hear him following close behind. Kenshi didn’t say anything, either, until he’d reached his room and led the way inside, closing the door behind them with a soft click.

There was silence for a few moments, while Kenshi tried to work out how to say what he wanted to and Syzoth didn’t say anything at all. Then, finally, Kenshi took a deep breath and turned to Syzoth. “I understand how you feel, but you can’t punish yourself. That won’t do anyone any good. It’s not going to bring them back.”

“I’m not….” Syzoth paused. Then, he asked quietly, “You really think I’m punishing myself?”

“My eyes might be gone, but I can still see that what you’re doing isn’t healthy,” Kenshi replied. “When we were in Outworld and you caused a distraction, you got hurt. You were willing to fight without any kind of help or backup. You wouldn’t have called for help from any of us.”

“I didn’t need to call for help. You came anyway.”

“That’s not the point.” Kenshi took a step closer to Syzoth and reached out, grasping the Zaterran’s upper arm in a firm grip. “I know we’ll likely be facing more battles for Earthhrealm. And I might not be there next time to help you.” His grip tightened a fraction as he thought about the very real possibility that no one would be there to help Syzoth if the Zaterran didn’t learn something from this conversation.

It was going to need to be more than just a conversation.

Nodding to himself, Kenshi began to walk over to his bed, still keeping a tight, firm grip on Syzoth’s arm.

“What are you doing?” Syzoth followed along, despite the note of confusion in his voice.

“I’m going to spank you.” Kenshi sat down on the bed and drew Syzoth forward to stand in front of him. Then, he proceeded to tug the Zaterran’s pants down. For a moment, he found himself wondering where Syzoth’s clothing went when he transformed. Did they become part of his reptile-skin? Shaking his head to clear it of those distractions, Kenshi moved his hands towards Syzoth’s underwear, preparing to pull it down as well.

Syzoth placed his hands over Kenshi’s own and said, “Wait.”

Kenshi paused, his hands resting on Syzoth’s hips. The Zaterran’s skin felt firm and cool under his fingers. “Do you have any questions?”

“What is spanking?” Syzoth asked. “I assume it’s not a style of fighting I haven’t heard of. I wouldn’t need to lose any of this clothing if it was.”

“A spanking….” Kenshi furrowed his brow. “It’s a…punishment. But it’s also used as a way of cleansing. A release of guilt. It will hurt, but compared to the emotional pain that can torment you…it is mild.”

Syzoth hesitated. “You think it will help?”

“I think it will help.” Kenshi waited, but when Syzoth didn’t say anything else, he continued to tug the underwear down to join the Zaterran’s pants. Then, he pulled Syzoth forward and positioned him across his lap, settling back enough to allow Syzoth’s upper body to be supported by the bed and his feet to rest comfortably on the floor. Then, once Syzoth was positioned as comfortably as he could be, Kenshi lifted his hand and brought it down with a firm smack that resounded through the room.

Syzoth hissed out a breath, but he didn’t move and didn’t otherwise react to what had to sting.

Kenshi rested his other hand on Syzoth’s lower back as he began to swat at a firm, steady pace, covering the Zaterran’s backside with the swats. He worked over every inch of Syzoth’s bottom, going from the crest down to mid-thigh before he started to swat again from the top.

During the second circuit of smacks, Syzoth began to shift slightly across Kenshi’s lap, although he still didn’t make a sound. His bottom was changing shade; Kenshi couldn’t see the colour, but his imagination filled in the skin changing to a pale green in colour…growing darker in spots where Kenshi’s palm had already landed.

“I know things seem hopeless right now.” Kenshi began to speak as he started from the top for the third time. By this point, Syzoth’s shifting had turned to full-on squirming and there were tiny huffs of air escaping him. He wasn’t making any attempt to get away, but he was reacting to the swats. Kenshi only hoped that Syzoth would listen to his words as he continued speaking. “I don’t know what our future is going to hold, but I know I want to avoid anyone else getting hurt…anyone else getting killed…and I’m worried that what I’ve seen of you so far means you won’t care enough to stay alive.” He moved his spanking hand a little lower and began to swat the tops of Syzoth’s thighs.

“Why…why do you think that? Why would it make a difference? Why would you care?” Syzoth’s voice sounded hoarse…filled with emotion.

“Because you’re a good person. Because you deserve to live. Because you belong here.” Kenshi raised his knee enough to expose Syzoth’s sit spots and then began to steadily swat there, turning the skin the same shade as the rest of Syzoth’s bottom. “You have another chance to do the right thing, to save other people from those like Shang Tsung. But only if you stay alive.” He began to swat harder and faster.

Syzoth let out a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a groan. His body slumped over Kenshi’s lap and the first sob was torn from his throat, quickly followed by more.

Kenshi slowed and then stopped the swats. He carefully pulled Syzoth’s clothing back into place with his spanking hand, rubbing the Zaterran’s lower back with his other hand at the same time. “You’re a good person,” he reiterated. “Making a mistake shouldn’t end with your death.”

Syzoth breathed out slowly and then pushed himself up off Kenshi’s lap. Gingerly, he sat down on the bed next to Kenshi, wiping a hand across his eyes. “You were right,” he said quietly. “It helped.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Kenshi wrapped his arms around Syzoth in a tight hug. “You have a chance to build a new life here in Earthhrealm. But the only way you can do that is by staying alive.”

Syzoth’s arms came up and wrapped slowly around Kenshi. His head dropped gently against Kenshi’s shoulder.

No more words needed to be said. They both understood.

The End