Chapter Text
”Huh. Gee, well. Fancy that."
Don, for all accounts, is holding on rather well. Too well, in Mobius opinion.
”What a story, huh? A real kicker," the guy decidedly lacks senses. Mobius is almost jealous of him – even though he should be considerably better prepared for this conversation, he feels two seconds from a complete freak out at any given moment.
”You know what? Let me get us something to drink, what do you think?" Don stands up and puts his hands on the hips in a gesture so familiar Mobius almost laughs. Picture perfect suburban dad, he is. And Mobius, despite sharing face with him, is anything but. ”I know what you think, day drinking and with kids to arrive so soon, but I just feel like the day calls, you know?"
”Oh do I," Mobius says with a forced chuckle. Rather an understatement, that.
”Okay, so – Make yourself comfortable, then. Mi casa es su c… erm. Y’know." And with that Don takes off to the kitchen, presumably.
Mobius is left to his own in a spacious living room. Nice couch, very messy floor littered with toys and various figurines. A smell so familiar Mobius wants to curl into it and stay forever. It isn’t even a particularly good smell, funnily enough. Mobius thinks about his jet-ski magazines left behind in the confines of the TVA and almost jumps when glasses click sonorously on the smooth coffee table. Clearly no matter the variant Mobius isn’t prone to use coasters.
”Didn’t want to startle you," Mobius shrugs and smiles – probably quite self-deprecatingly.
”It's alright. If anything I should be apologising to you – y’know, appearing from nowhere, forcing this mad story on you and all."
”Eh, well. You definitely don’t hear that kind of tale every day, I’m telling you that. But it’s all kinda cool, yeah? Big’ol adventure, just like that," Don snaps fingers. ”Never thought anything like that could happen to me. Or… future me?" he scrunches his face thoughtfully.
”More like past you at this point," says Mobius. ”As far as our file reads, I was taken by the TVA a couple of month ago or so from now."
”And how much time was it for you?"
”Dunno, it’s quite impossible to tell. Time moves differently there. Definitely more than four hundred years, though."
Don whistles, visibly surprised.
”Gee, man. That’s a long time to work without vacation days and all."
Mobius snorts. ”Wait until you hear about seventeen minutes breaks."
They clink glasses.
”So, what do you have in mind now?” Don asks after a few sips. They both wince simultaneously. ”Good stuff, eh?"
”What do you mean?" Mobius asks, to stale time mostly.
”Well, you don’t plan to, I don’t know, kill me and take my place here? Although maybe it’d be easier to not approach me at all in that case," Don adds. ”Make it more detached and all."
Mobius laughs. ”I mean it’d be kinda difficult anyway. Y’know, killing yourself in cold blood."
In truth Mobius isn’t sure what he is doing here, really. He’s spent last few days watching Don and the kids from a sideline, trying hard to convince himself he wasn’t behaving like a total creep. It is not like he is a novice in observing people from a safe distance, but it never felt quite like such a crude intrusion. Talk about self-deception.
From the window now he can just spot old hockey gates with a burned hole in the net. Couple of days hanging out nearby taught him it must have been Kevin’s doing.
”I guess I just wanted to see the kids," says Mobius finally, running a hand through his hair. Don looks at him with pity in his eyes. Mobius would find it annoying, if he wasn’t feeling quite pitiable indeed. Not bursting into tears every couple of hours or something equally ridiculous is a considerable achievement these days, even though Mobius isn’t quite ready to brag around about it. Privately he thinks he has every right to feel a little sorry for himself.
”Well, they’ll be delighted probably," says Don, and then adds with a chuckle, ”Sean especially. He is going wild for all this multiverse shebang lately, y’know? We made a whole presentation for school last month."
Mobius tries to imagine what kind of presentation would that be if he helped Sean got it ready instead of Don. Pure nightmare fuel for the kids, it could be. Well, nightmare with a happy ending, he thinks, for most people involved anyway.
”They’ll be back in like," Don looks at the little screen on his electronic watches, ”half an hour. They have football practice till four today."
”Right, right. You sure you don’t mind? They are still kids, can’t imagine it’d be easy for them. I can be gone in a swift, if you tell me to," says Mobius. He tries to convince himself that he asks only in concern for Don and the kids.
”Eh, don’t worry too much. Resilient creatures, kids," Mobius nods in a manner he hopes implies that he is indeed familiar with resilience of children. Don finishes his glass, and offers Mobius another. Whiskey is rather nice, but it does nothing to calm his nerves.
Lately he was feeling like a balloon with a thread let loose. Smallest things could send him off – just yesterday he bought a cup of coffee exactly as awful as ones from the TVA automats, and it took him a whole ten minutes to calm down. He tried to give himself time. Blamed it all on the shock of seeing his family.
Bad luck, he’s never been that great at fooling himself.
When the space behind the window overlooking the Loom went completely dark, everything in the room got so quiet Mobius though he suddenly lost his hearing. Then B-15 asked, uncharacteristically unsure,
”What… just happened?”
A million dollar question if Mobius ever heard one. A real winner.
”O.B.?" He tried, turning around to face the expert. Quite unfortunately for once O.B. looked as lost as everybody else.
”The Loom… exploded?" He said uncertainly. Which, call Mobius petty, was rather on the nose at the moment. ”And then Loki resurrected the timelines somehow!”
”Yeah, I mean we all saw that, but how is it possible?" In the back of his mind he realised he sounded hysterical, but he didn’t exactly care. ”He wasn’t… He was never able to just do that, right?" Mobius turned to Sylvie, ”Right?”
”Don’t look at me, I have no idea how he did it either," said Sylvie, crossing arms defensively. ”But it seems like it worked, anyway. We are not turning to spaghetti again, aren’t we?”
”Again”?
Mobius looked back through the window, trying to spot something, anything, beyond the gangway. Nothing. On a place of chasm Loki disappeared to, now was just… nothing. Only burned pieces of the Loom kept floating in the darkness.
”Can we," he stumbled, ”can we find out what happened to him? Trace him somehow? O.B.?”
”I can try to trace his temporal aura!” Said O.B., his usual enthusiasm seemingly returned. It was kind of nice to see his open face lighting up with the smile again, but right now Mobius would be hard pressed to return it in earnest. ”I’ll be quite a challenge since he probably disappeared from the timelines completely. Maybe we could use the ACS! Casey, Victor, you want to help?" Not waiting for the answer he took off, Casey and Timely following him.
”Wait, what’s the ACS?" Mobius asked urgently, but they’ve already left the room.
Fuck. Fuck. He spun around to follow them but a hand stopped him. Mobius looked up, startled, and B-15 worried eyes found his.
”Mobius. You fine?”
”Yup! Absolutely a-alright! Gonna go put me best Sunday’s on, what do y’think!" He was almost shouting now. B-15 tried to put a hand on his shoulder in what was probably a comforting gesture, but he dodge her.
He was alright, really. The shouting meant nothing. It’s just adrenalin, right? Five minutes ago he thought they all are going to die, and everything in the universe with them. So yeah, adrenaline. And stress. Pent up tension.
Well, all of that, but also he was pretty sure he just saw his best friend saying what sure sounded like a final good-bye to him and then disappearing in some whirl of timelines and magic, so maybe it had a little bit to do with that.
Maybe it had a lot to do with that actually. If Mobius would think about for just a moment, but he tried really really hard not to. He run the hand through his hair uselessly.
”Mobius," B-15 said placatingly. You really know when you’re looking like a maniac when people start to use that tone on you. Was Mobius looking like a maniac? He probably was. ”They’ll find him," she said, putting a hand on his arm. This time he didn’t bolt. ”You know O.B.. The guy is like an extremely nice shark, I bet he wouldn’t stop until he find a way to track him."
”You think Loki’d want that?" Sylvie asked suddenly. Mobius completely forgot she was still there.
”What do you mean?" B-15 frowned.
”He did say he wanted to do this," shrugged Sylvie, seemingly nonchalant. If Mobius wasn’t an all-time Loki expert he would have probably bought it. As he was, he could spot just a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
”What are you saying, huh?" he asked. He could feel insistent headache starting in his temples. ”That we should just leave it… as it is?”
”Maybe. Maybe we should," she said, a bit defensively. She was fidgeting with a button on her coat.
”And you’ll be completely fine with it?," Mobius asked. ”With never knowing where he is? If he is even, dunno, alive?" He was trying to hold off sharp bolts of panic from rising. He should be alive, right?
”It was his choice to do what he did. Shouldn’t you respect it?" said Sylvie.
”Respect it? Hell no!" Sylvie frowned at him. ”I won’t respect shit until we learn exactly what happened," the headache was getting stronger. ”What about the plan, huh? We had a plan, why has he –” Mobius stopped passing abruptly and pointed accusing finger at Sylvie. ”And you’re saying we should just leave it, yeah? Sure, let’s do just that! Let’s respect his decision. Because you Lokis are famous for making such good choices! Betcha it’s not at all another case of ill-advise self-sacrificing shit," he was out of breath and panting by the end of his little rant, and Sylvie looked more and more murderous with every second.
”Huh?! What do you know about making choices anyway?" She snorted derisively. ”You just want to control everything like always!”
”What are you even talking about?!" Out of the corner of his eye Mobius saw B-15 raising hands, clearly planning to intervene into what undoubtedly was on the course to be a massive raw. ”I’m not trying to –” he gestured exasperatedly. ”I’m not trying to control anything! I couldn’t! Don’t you know him? He is the most stubborn person I know, how the fuck am I suppose to control him?" He laughed humorously. ”I just want to –” he couldn’t look at Sylvie anymore, and turned away. ”I just want to see if my friend is okay," he finished quietly.
They stood in silence. The only thing keeping him from getting mortifyingly embarrassed about his outburst was hammering headache. The only consolation was that Sylvie looked slightly embarrassed too. And sympathetic, which made things infinitely worse.
Finally Sylvie said, quite unexpectedly, ”He was time-slipping again. I don’t know why he did what he did but he must have a reason, Mobius," and then she added, bitterly. ”Whatever you think about ill-advised decisions of Lokis."
Mobius sighed. ”Sorry about that. Didn’t mean it, really. I’m just –” he ran a hand through his hair, ”I’m really worried about him. Aren’t you?”
She didn’t say anything but Mobius knew her well enough to gather the answer.
”Right. Right," he said after a few moments of silence. ”I’ll go check on the guys, yeah? Bea, maybe you should go check the control room, calm everybody down, yeah? There was quite a fright for everyone," B-15 nodded, put a reassuring hand oh his arm, and left the room swiftly. Her efficient and calm demeanour reassured Mobius somehow.
Ten minutes later Mobius was sitting by the table in O.B. workshop and sipping hot chocolate provided to him by Victor, who seemed ever so fascinated by the automate. The moment Mobius stepped into the workshop the cup was thrusted into his hands for what he was eternally grateful. He smiled to Victor, and he immediately popped off to the big workbench, where O.B. and Casey were peering over some devices.
Mobius figured that if they had any news, they would tell him, so he just sat down quietly, trying not to disturb anything in O.B.’s frankly insane collection of various techs. He wasn’t entirely successful at that, regretfully. They should really put someone to help O.B. clean here a bit.
So he lingered for what feels like many hours. Adrenalin high from before wore off at some point, and Mobius, deep in disorganised and useless thoughts and lulled by excited discussion by the local nerd group, almost felt asleep, his mind producing disturbing, restless images in half-dream. Mostly he seemed to be trying to put together some kind of giant puzzle out of O.B. multiple shelfs. What a stupid thing to do, Mobius thought with that part of his brain that remained conscious. He had much more important things to do.
”Mobius!" he was startled into full awareness by apologetic Casey.
”What?" he asked drowsily and then sprang to his legs immediately, sleep gone completely. ”You found him?”
He could tell instantly that wasn’t the case. Big downside of being an analyst with more than a few centuries of experience is that you can help noticing little signs of people emotions even if you want desperately to miss them altogether.
”We did," said O.B.. Huh. ”He is everywhere."
Mobius stared at him.
”What do you mean, he is everywhere?”
”We did used the ACS in the end! You do know what the ACS is, right?”
”Not in the slightest, and can we circle back to the everywhere thing?" Mobius said impatiently.
”I’m getting there, Mobius. So we used the ACS.”
”The Accurate Coordinate Searcher, thats it," Casey intervened.
”Yes, thank you, Casey, the Accurate Coordinate Searcher, and it seems like Loki is literally everywhere now. Here, and in all the timelines and well, everywhere! It seems like he exists in every single place and time simultaneously. It’s quite fascinating, really! That must take a lot of power, did you know he could do that?," O.B. asked curiously. While Mobius could understand his enthusiasm – it did sound rather impressive, actually – for him personally it was somewhat grating. It seemed his customary rationality left him for the time being.
”I didn’t know that. Sylvie said he was time-slipping again, could that be connected?" He asked.
”interesting," chirped O.B., ”but unlikely. That level of impact could only be produced if he left a copy in every single time and place across the universe, which is virtually impossible, even for Loki! So it probably has to do with him reviving the timelines in the Loom Expanse."
”We think he is p-powering all of them now," Victor wedged in, adjusting his glasses.
Mobius blinked at him, and then some more.
”Come again?" He asked weakly.
”O-our best theory is that Loki has become sort of power source for all the timelines. That’s why everything is f-fine even after the Loom stopped working," Victor explained patiently. The more he spoke the more Mobius dislike what he was hearing.
”Power source," he repeated.
Casey approached him and put a hand his shoulder. Mobius decided that he must have looked truly horrible if people just kept on touching him consolingly.
”I’m sorry, Mobius. We can’t determine where he is physically. His temporal aura is sort of… littering all the waves we are able to intercept, so we cannot find a place where his presence is the strongest. I’m sorry," he said again.
”But you can make your device – the ACS, you said? – more accurate, right? Kinda like we tried to do with the the Loom? Can you use some kind of the Multiplier now? Or well, the Multiplier but the other way around?" he asked hopefully. And once again their faces said to him everything he needed to know. ”You can’t’.”
”S-sorry," offered Victor, clearly upset. O.B. was looking at Mobius compassionately, and Casey was still holding a steady hand on his arm.
”Right," said Mobius, carefully extricating himself and taking a step back towards the exit. ”Thanks, guys. Good work. At least now we know that he is probably alive, right? That’s something," he smiled in a manner that probably somewhat lacked intended optimism. ”I’m gonna go, erm…. check on the guys in the control room," he finished awkwardly and then left the workshop without looking back.
Don glances at him above his glass.
”Can i ask you a question?" He asks, putting the glass back on the table.
”Sure, whatever you want," Mobius smiles a bit strained, forced out of the memory.
‘Did you like it? Your job at that agency of yours?" Don asks. ”Were you happy there?”
Couple of month ago Mobius would just shrug and deflected with a laugh. Two weeks ago, even with all the anguish of decaying timelines he would probably still do all that, but only to fend off the fact that he was, he really was quite happy here. It wasn’t like he wasn’t content before, though. He just wasn’t quite a real person back then, only one – though, he is not too shy to admit it, quite an important one – gear in the big TVA machine. And well, after Loki started to break havoc around the agency – all part of machine went flying, and somehow Mobius was unexpectedly the one to get the best deal out of it. Imminent doom notwithstanding.
”Yes, I was," he says. ”Probably not like you here, but I was."
”It’s just so hard to imagine me doing something else than what I do now," Don muses. He laughs mirthfully. ”I always thought I was born to live like that, but now it turns out i could have spend hundreds of years doing things I cannot even imagine doing. Way to put your life into perspective, y’know."
”Well I wasn’t really you at the time. Wiped memory, remember?," he taps on his temple. ”Certainly wasn’t my choice to be there back then. But I’m," he adds and chuckles, remembering, ”I’m still grateful to the guy who brought me there. And guess what? I was still obsessed with jet skis, even with memory erased, can you believe it? Nicked quite a few ”Watercraft Journals” from different timelines."
Don laughs. ”I have a good collection myself! Mostly at least a decade old, right now it’s all online. Have you ever been on one?”
”On the jet ski? No, there never was… any good opportunity, I guess," Mobius shrugs. ”And after i got back here I wasn’t exactly in the mood."
Don nods.
”We can go to the lake, if you want to? When it’ll be all settled with the kids. We cant take them and make a day trip out of it and all. I recently sold the second jet ski I had, so we will have to make do with one, but it’ll still be fun," he suggests energetically.
Mobius could picture it perfectly. The kids, jet ski, warm sun on his skin, fishy smell of the lake. They could say Don and him are twins if anyone asks. They would eat sandwiches on the shore, and Mobius would tell Kevin and Sean everything he knows about the multiverse. Maybe that’s exactly what he needs to stop feeling like uprooted tree. Maybe after a day with his family he will forget even the fraction of things happened in the last few months and be content again.
Which isn’t exactly what he wants, he concedes in the privacy of his own mind. But it is the best option he could possibly have. Deal of a century. A chance to become a real boy again.
What crap.
Mobius stands abruptly.
”I should go, I’m sorry," he says and moves to the door. Don looks at him, surprised.
”What? But what about the kids?" He asks.
Mobius thinks of them – Sean and Kevin, with their blonde curls and mischievous smiles – and a queasy feeling awashes him. He desperately wants to meet them, to know them again, and yet the thought of actually seeing them right now is somehow unbearable. Really he misses the TVA of before dearly – he can’t remember if he had to deal with quite that many feelings simultaneously back then. Tiresome stuff, this real life.
”I’ll… be back lately, I promise," Mobius says hurriedly. ”I promise," he says again and opens the door to the front lawn.
”Hey, Mobius, wait!" He hears Don calling, but Mobius is crossing the street already.
He fishes the Tempad out of the pocket and opens the time door. Stepping inside he glances back for the last time. Everything is in its the right place.
”O.B.," he says, leaning over the workshop counter on the other side of the time-door a few minutes and a vigorous stroll through the TVA after. ”Can you help me get to the Void?”
O.B. springs out from behind the counter like he have been just waiting for Mobius to appear.
”Mobius? You’re back! What’s the Void?" he asks with the usual cheer. ”I see you don’t look better at all after your trip to your real life!”
”Yeah, erm… thanks," says Mobius awkwardly. ”Look, can you get me a pruning stick? I need to get to the Void. Some unfinished business there."
”Is it Loki-connected business?" Asks O.B. curiously.
”Yeah, somewhat," says Mobius, half-baked plan forming in his head. ”Or Lokis-connected, anyways."
____________________
For all he is holding all the timeline of all the universes in his hands, Loki feels positively mundane. He isn’t sure how he is suppose to feel, anyway, since there is no precedent to his position, but he is pretty sure he shouldn’t feel so resolutely, excruciatingly bored. It isn’t even the kind of boredom he was often compiled to enact mischief upon while on Asgard or the TVA, but something far far more wearing to the point he grows desperate for anything at all to happen to dissolve even a fraction of it.
Nothing happens, of course. Nothing ever happens at the place he now resides in. Time branches move around him in lazy waves, ever growing and evolving. Loki always had little patience for gardens. And it is that, in a sense. Loki could have made peace with being a gardener – only he isn’t, really. He is a sun, or a water stream, or soil, or maybe all of that and more – or, abstaining from poetry, a power source. Capable to sustain, and powerless to shape.
Not that Loki really wishes to interfere with the timelines, or have control over them. But sometimes he longs for it – only because it is something to do in this dreadful, mind-numbingly dull place, where nothing is, except for time.
For Loki was pretty sure time does exist here. He is even sure it passes, in the same sense time in the TVA passes. It is just hard to keep track of it, since the only measure available to Loki are his own thoughts. And his thoughts – well, from idleness and boredom his mind alternates between rushing almost manically from memory to memory, from idea to idea, to lazy, dreamlike drowsiness. Loki dreads the moment when he’ll inevitably run out of anything new to think of completely. A mortifying idea.
He peeks into timelines. It is pretty similar to watching his life at the TVA theatre – only this time he isn’t limited to his own greatest hits. Oh, he looks at them too, his other lives, but really it is all rather repetitive, even if it pains him to admit it. So he looks for his mother, his brother – who, apparently, has a daughter now – for everyone even of mild importance to him from Asgard. Acquires quite a few fresh piece of gossip amid.
He watches Sylvie for awhile. She got settled, even scored a promotion – and a new, even more ridiculous uniform with it. She seems carefree, Loki finds. Happy, even. A very different being from the time they first met. He stops diving into her timeline pretty fast, though – she did always frowned upon invasion of her privacy.
And then there are his friends in the TVA. For all Sylvie talk, they all seemed to have preferred to stay in the agency, rather than go back to their life in the timeline. Naturally, being such a being he is at the moment, Loki is above such nonsense as petty vindication. Naturally. He still feels a bit smug about turning out to be the right one in their argument of many centuries ago. He wishes he could flick her nose about it.
It isn’t like he personally is exactly happy about it, though. The TVA is off limits for him, as it isn’t a part of any timeline – which should have been obvious from the start, yet he still spends an inordinately embarrassing amount of time digging for it among the branches. Well, just his usual luck, really.
Then, all but despaired, he hears Mobius voice from one of the timelines, new branch just formed. He is with Sylvie, who reprieved from training her McDonald’s underlings and loitering in the record shop – whose owner she seemingly likes more than just mildly – to act as sort of moral support to him. She disappears shortly after though and Mobius is left standing alone.
He is quite the same. Or rather he seems the same to the untrained eyes – which Loki’s are not. He is wearing his usual dreadful brown suit, and a standard TVA shirt. His hair is combed somewhat neat, as per usual. He is also oddly still. Mobius always was like a fish with iridescent scales – always moving, different expressions alternating in his intelligent eyes, always perceiving, always fascinating no matter the side of him you look at. And now he is just standing in front of his perfect life, stolen from him eons ago – like all the life force has left him.
Loki watches, transfixed. Mobius is almost idle – he wonders around the city, eats in the random places and drinks awful – from the look of his face – coffee. He spies over his counterpart and his kids, of course. Loki wishes more than anything to know what he is thinking during this long hours hiding in the shadows and simply observing.
Even decades upon decades spent trying to fix the Loom, repeating a few short weeks again and again didn’t help in getting better to read Mobius. For all his open manner the man is a mystery most of the time. Baffling in his caring gestures and kind words.
He was so tired back than. Even for a god to spend a couple of decade without rest was quite an overstrain. He felt as though stuck in molasses, every movement a fight against syrupy resistance.
They were sitting by Mobius’s desk in the open office, pouring over readings of Renslayer’s Tempad signals, as per usual scenario. The lights were almost all out in the open office, other agents gone for a time. Soft light from the lamp on the desk was pouring over Mobius tired features.
Loki was taking a rest here, as much as he allowed himself to. He was desperately trying not to fall asleep, afraid of timeline dissipating while he was out. Wouldn’t that be great, to oversleep the destruction of the universe? Seemed like something a god of long forgotten times could do. Someone from the legends, framed as epitome of stupidity.
For all it was scaring the idea didn’t seemed so stupid to Loki. Sometimes there was a childish wish in him to just lay down and demand for this gift of time slipping to be transferred to someone else. Someone better suited to saving the universe than Loki was. Someone stronger.
”Hey," Mobius said, voice raspy. He coughed a few times trying to clear his throat, and shuddered with his whole body, ”You ready to hit the hay? You look like you’re about to collapse."
”You’re the one to talk, agent Mobius," Loki retorted.
”What? I could go on like this for ages still. Just need to," he yawned wildly, ”get another cup of coffee. You, on the other hand? Never seen you so pale and thats saying something. It may be high time for you to go sleep a bit."
Mobius’s voice, rough from the drowsiness and gentle as ever spread like a warm caress over Loki’s heart. It was amazing, really, how it never lost it’s effect on Loki even if he heard the same thing in the same voice many time before.
”And leave all the delicious paperwork to you? Not falling for that," Loki said with false cheer. Mobius chuckled but wouldn’t be steered from the course.
”I leave something for you to do after you rest," he said. ”Now shoo."
”Now shoo?" Loki repeated in disbelief. ”Is this how you address a god?”
”It is, if the god in question is being difficult on purpose," Mobius said, looking Loki straight in the eyes, his bluish-grey ones sparkling with teasing light.
Loki shivered and leaned closer. Mobius shifted almost imperceptibly to him. There was some mere inches between their faces now.
”You know well enough that being difficult is practically my main character trait," Loki murmured. They were so close, so close Loki was sure he could hear Mobius heart beating, and feel his subtle cologne on his skin. Loki’s head felt full with incense smoke, swirling in lazy patterns, calming and heady.
”Oh, you’re difficult alright. High-maintenance and all," Mobius laughed quietly, still holding Loki’s gaze. His eyes seemed darker in low light, his hand almost touching Loki’s. Loki wished he could rest on the palm of his, safe under watchful, soothing eyes. ”Dunno about it being your main character trait, though."
”And what is it instead, pray tell?” Loki asked, curious. They were both still whispering, as if afraid to disrupt thick, hazy air around them.
”Hm,” Mobius shifted closer still, and for a second Loki was sure he is about to be brought forward by a steady fingers, but instead Mobius put his hand on Loki shoulder and said, ”How about I tell you after you go and rest for a few hours?” His tone was fond and teasing, and yet Loki couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed.
”Playing unfair, agent? How scandalous," Loki smiled and put a hand under his chin. Mobius spread his hands in surrender.
”Gotta keep me on my toes to keep up with you, your highness," he said, mirroring Loki’s pose.
They just looked at each other for a long minute, or maybe in hour. Loki couldn’t remember when he has last felt so calm.
Then he opened his mouth and said, unexpected even to himself,
”I can’t sleep."
Mobius peered at him quizzically.
”Why not? Insomnia?" he asked, and then added, thoughtful, ”We could take you to the infirmary. They probably have something to help."
”No!" Loki said, suddenly loud. Nervously, he got up, breaking the soft bubble they were wrapped in. Now Mobius seemed actually concerned.
”Loki? Is everything alright, buddy?" He also stood up, and put his hands soothingly on both Loki’s arms.
”Yes, yes! Completely fine! Splendid even!" Loki exclaimed rather performatively. He wanted to lean into Mobius arms more. He wanted to shrug him off and escape somewhere. Fatigue suffocated him.
”Sure," Mobius said, suspicious. ”Look, it’s been," he looked at his bare wrist, ”like twenty five hours since we last had a break."
”You don’t know that. You don’t even have a watch, Mobius."
”As I was saying," Mobius pressed, unbothered, ”it’s been twenty five hours and I’m no god so I really do not have energy for this right now. So have mercy on this old man and spill."
”You’re not that old," Loki protested, on instinct. ”In fact, you’re probably younger than me."
”Debatable, and that’s really not the point, so stop veering away," Mobius hand drifted to Loki’s waist, holding him in one place. Loki froze, looking at him helplessly. ”Tell me what’s wrong. You’re being weirder than usual."
”Now you’re telling me I’m weird? That’s not a great strategy to get me to talk, I’ll have you know," Loki huffed, trying for offended. Of course such deceptions didn’t work on Mobius.
”Loki," he said sternly.
Somehow between his capture by the TVA, the Loom failing and the whole turmoil of time slipping Loki became quite unable to deny Mobius anything. Another weakness to add to his many, perhaps, but for some reason it didn’t feel like it. Maybe because Mobius himself seemed willing to give anything Loki could ask of him in return.
”I –” he halted. Mobius was looking at him with steady, encouraging eyes, so Loki gathered himself. ”I feel like if I fall asleep everything will just… disappear," he said finally. It was the truth – or at least a piece of truth he could offer Mobius without scaring him needlessly.
Mobius nodded, then nodded again. ”Reckon those time slipping of yours were not without aftermath, huh?" he concluded. Ironically, he was not that far from the bait. ”I’ve been checking my skin from time to time, y’know? Just in case," Loki chuckled weakly. Mobius smiled back at him, seemingly pleased with Loki’s improved mood.
That was ever so baffling to him. Someone trying to lift his spirits just because, with no ulterior motive, even when he was acting difficult – it was so different from what Loki was used to, it made him pause every time. Made him feel warmed all over.
He couldn’t help but smile.
”I still insist it’s better to lose all skin than to be lost in time completely."
”Agree to disagree, buddy," Mobius steered him towards the door, his hand a gentle presence on Loki’s lower back. ”How about you go sleep and I keep watch for a time? Because you really look like you keel over any second, and let me tell you, I’m definitely not strong enough to catch you, you giant," he was leading Loki down the sleeping quarters, where his own small apartment resided.
Loki’s been there a few times – back when they were still investigating Sylvie case and after he got back to the TVA. Sometimes he crushed on Mobius couch when they were still in the mids of researching this or that. Sometimes Mobius fell asleep right alongside him, and in the mornings – or whatever passed for them in the TVA – they always woke up tangled on a rather small couch. Mobius never seemed perturbed by it, cheerfully getting up and bustling off quickly to get breakfast or something. Loki, on the other hand, felt a strange sort of lost every time. He attributed it to his general loneliness until he learned to know better.
”You should double down on your physical trainings, in that case," Loki said. Mobius snorted.
”Shall I to carry you everywhere in the future? Do you miss your princely carriages?" He asked, glancing at Loki shortly. There was a playful smile in the corners of his mouth.
”Well, it’s certainly time to get my status recognised in this dreadfully insubordinate place," he said mock haughtily.
”Yeah-yeah," Mobius opened the door to his apartment in the grandiose manner, ”Hope you’ll find my humble accommodations to be in agreement with you for the duration of your visit, your highness."
Mobius quarters were a but messy, as per usual, and of course a far cry from Loki’s rooms in the palace of Asgard, but they were cozy and very, well, Mobius at core. Comfy in unassuming manner. Lot’s of beiges and browns too.
”Off to bed you go," said Mobius, pushing Loki in the back. ”I’ll get you a t-shirt to sleep in or something."
”Please say it won’t be with that dreadful clock on," Loki squinted at him. Mobius just patted him on the shoulder, passing by him to the small walk-in closet. ”Seriously, Mobius, I cannot sleep wearing such a horror!" Loki called at his back.
Of course it was a Miss Minutes t-shirt. Mobius, predictably, declared he didn’t owned anything else in the right size, but Loki was pretty sure he just dug it up to spite him.
”Hope you’re happy with yourself," he huffed, once attired.
”I’ll be happy when I see you snoozing off to the land of happy happy dreams," Mobius said, situating himself by the desk in front of big window overlooking seemingly endless stretch of the TVA horrible architecture. Honestly, the longer Loki spent here the more he thought it was designed specifically to torture people with even a modicum of taste.
He climbed into the bed. Here, he’s never been in his few visits to Mobius place.
”This is surprisingly comfortable," he said, cozying into the blanket. Mobius glanced at him shortly, and then turned back to the documents on his desk. Loki swallowed. Mobius’s gaze, when their eyes met, was decidedly hungry.
”What have you expected, a torture device?" Mobius asked, still not looking at him. The tips of his ears got bright pink. Ridiculous man, Loki thought fondly.
”Considering the time you spend avoiding your bed, one could certainly think that," he said, turning to the side. How domestic it was – chatting with Mobius while lying in his bed. As though they are a couple, happy in their home, and not just work partners – friends, but not more, – trying to avert the imminent disaster of cosmic scale.
Such maudlin thoughts were ill-suited right now, really.
Puzzle of the Loom still seemed incomprehensible to him. However many hours, months, years, he spent learning and trying to do everything faster and faster, he didn’t fell closer to the solution. He felt guilty every time he stopped to catch his breath – like right now – but at times it was impossible to continue at the same pace.
”Mobius," Loki called, not knowing exactly what he wanted to ask. Mobius turned to him, seemingly managed to suppress his embarrassment.
”You should be asleep already," he said, and then quirked his eyebrow. ”Or are you expecting a lullaby?”
”Do you have a good signing voice?" Loki asked, now curious. He caught the man whistling to himself a few times, but it was always horribly off-key.
”Nope," Mobius laughed immediately. ”But I could try, so you’ll fall asleep faster to avoid that."
”What a peculiar strategy. Have you used it to…," he started and then closed his mouth, guilty. He almost asked whether Mobius ever tried this on his kids. ”Forgive me, it’s no matter," he said hurriedly. Mobius looked at him questioningly. ”I don’t know what I was going to say," He really needed to sleep if he was slipping up like this.
Mobius, ever perceptive, probably noted Loki’s sudden unease. He always seemed to, however drastic the situation was. Now, though, he just signed and said, kindly.
”Sleep, Loki."
Loki closed his eyes. Mobius was scribbling something, the sound familiar and comforting. The pillow was soft and smelled of some kind of detergent. Lulled, Loki started to drift away, when suddenly, the vision appeared behind his eyelids.
An awful, horrendous and tenfold amplified by his drowsy conscious sight of decaying timeline. His friends, shredding to colourful stripes before his eyes. Darkness of completely empty realities, him alone, enveloped in it like in a shroud, suffocating. Helpless.
He open his eyes, wishing for the low light of the room to burn through this darkness. Awake, he tried to avoid thinking about it all but it seemed like the nightmares were waiting for him in the thinnest of sleep. He laid amid pillows and blankets, trying to calm his breath. Mobius was now twirling a pen between his fingers, seemingly lost in thoughts. He was frowning slightly, furrows appearing on his forehead – something was troubling him. His hair got mused on the back of his head, now sticking up a bit. Loki wanted to reach and smooth it out.
”Mobius," Mobius put the pen on the table, and turned back to look at Loki. ”Have you ever felt like like everything is falling apart and you unable to do anything about it, however much you try?" Loki asked, his mind too tired to hold the question back.
”Late night sleepover talk?" Mobius said. ”Should we paint each other nails? My hair is too short, but I can braid yours, surely."
”Mobius," Loki said again, slightly annoyed. For a deflection it was rather a weak one. Mobius sighed deeply, and run a hand over his face, turning serious.
”Why do you ask?”
”Just… indulge me," Loki asked, noting pleading notes in his voice, embarrassingly. Mobius seemed to notice them too, because he sighed again and said,
”Yes, i have," when he didn’t elaborated further, Loki huffed. ”What? You asked, I answered."
Loki snorted and turned away from him.
”Alright, alright. Gee, you get cranky when you’re tired," he sounded like he was smiling a bit, if amused. Loki snorted again. ”Y’know, when you were, erm, flying somewhere in the time matter, or whatever," Loki shifted so he could see him. He appeared quite disheveled, as if he was running a hand through his hair when Loki wasn’t looking. ”And I was in that monstrous suit, standing on the gangway, O.B. almost convinced me to run back inside. You seemed," Mobius halted and finally looked Loki directly in the eyes. ”You seemed lost forever. And there was nothing I could do."
”But you waited for me," Loki protested.
”Yeah, but at the moment? Seemed rather hopeless," Mobius was looking at Loki intently, as if trying to absorb all of him. His eyes were hot as coals. ”And then you appeared, like some kind of comet," he chuckled, mirthful again. ”Very dramatic.”
”But you say you didn’t know I was going to," Loki said, and then asked, unsure. ”Didn’t you – Didn’t you want to run back?”
”Eh," Mobius waved a hand in some vague gesture. ”In this cases you just gotta trust the process. Everything turned out just fine in the end, right?," he smiled at Loki, and then added, his gaze soft on Loki. ”And wouldn’t it be a shame if I let my best friend disappear forever?”
Loki imagined him, standing there in a vicious storm of radiation, seconds ticking relentlessly, helpless to do anything but wait patiently, blindly, believing that Loki somehow manage to come to him.
In his bed now, looking at his profile lit in soft light Loki wanted to kiss him. He wanted to take him to bed and to never leave. To climb upon him, and to lay on him and feel his skin with his own, as close as two people could be to each other. To listen to his voice so close he needn’t raise it above barest whisper. To take him, and for him to take Loki as his. To sleep on his chest, listening to the steady beat. To inhale him. To offer his heart, suddenly so heavy behind his ribs he couldn’t breath, and receive his, infinitely precious, in return.
He couldn’t, of course. He couldn’t do anything before he would solve the problem with the Loom. But oh, how he wanted.
So instead he asked,
”Will you wake me up if anything happen? Even something small and stupid?”
”Sure," Mobius said readily. ”Promise.” He was probably going for exasperated but it came out as endlessly fond.
And Loki closed his eyes again and slowly drifted to unconsciousness.
”Rock-a-bye, baby," was the last thing he heard before succumbing to the sleep completely. Fool, he thought, every atom of him full of wamth, and dreamt of nothing for the rest of the night.
When he woke up in some hours, Mobius was still calmly puttering with the documents on his desk. Loki watched him from his nest in the bed for several long minutes before Mobius realised he’s woken up and demanded they grab a breakfast somewhere and returned to the office.
Oh, how he wanted.
On the timeline Mobius seems to finally gather courage to approach his counterpart. Unlike Loki’s variants, they really are exact copies of each other, down to every expression. Funny how no amount of time spent in the TVA, his memory erased completely, managed to change Mobius mannerisms.
Mobius looks much more nervous than Don, for some reason. Wasn’t it suppose to be the other way around, Loki wonders. Though, he concedes, Don didn’t appeared to be that perturbed when Loki found him at his timeline either.
Apart from trying to hit him with a wrench. Which was quite reasonable of him, considering.
The kids are already half-way home. Loki watches them, almost identical with their straight blond hair and bluish-grey eyes and impish smiles. The youngest one, Kevin, is planning to build a fireball-shooting machine today, which sounds like a potential hazard for the whole neighbourhood to Loki ears. He approves, naturally.
They are probably exactly like Mobius and Don were in their childhood, before they became two instead of one. So alike in form and speech, but so very different. And these kids, delightfully mischievous and playful, are Don’s kids, not Mobius’s.
Mobius stands up abruptly.
”I should go, I’m sorry," he says. Loki watches, bewildered, as he leaves the house and steps into the time door.
Loki searches for him on the other timelines, but to no avail. He must have went back to the TVA, hidden from Loki’s gaze again. Maybe this short moment was the last time Loki would see him. So tortuously short it would be better to never see it at all.
Time branches moves lazily around him. They offer no sympathy to Loki, and he closes his eyes. He wants to cry, but what use is it here?
He seemed to spend all his tears eons ago, anyway. So he doesn’t cry. He takes one more look at Don on the timeline, instead. The kids are home already, telling him excitedly of how boring their day at school was, and what are they going to watch in the evening. Don tries to inspire the idea that fireball-shooting machine is rather a boring concept, but Kevin and Sean doesn’t seem to buy the obvious bluff. Smart kids.
Loki, for himself, thinks the idea is tremendous fun. And really, he is so bored, so bored, lonely and sad, he can’t stand himself anymore. The thought of never seeing Mobius again is unbearable.
So he focuses on his surroundings and thinks about conjuring a fireball-shooting machine.
Nothing happens, at first.