Chapter Text
When Mobius thought about loneliness, he often thought of missing toys or misplaced socks. He thought about female orangutans and staring into space. He thought about ordinary people who went to see a movie by themselves and how they ate dinner in silence in a barren home. He hears quiet when he thinks of loneliness, he feels still. He watched Loki be lonely; watched him be lonely most of his life. He watched Odin dismiss him and Thor walk past him. He watched a young boy feel forgotten, and he thought even if he grew up to do terrible things, the child Loki had been once didn’t deserve to be lonely or feel forgotten.
He didn’t see himself as lonely. He never had. At the TVA, there really wasn’t such a thing. People did their work, focused on the bigger picture, had interests but they were never more important. A blimp on the radar. He had a purpose. What he believed was bigger than himself. It was hard to feel lonely with that kind of pressure on his shoulders.
He felt it when he stood on Don’s street. He felt the emptiness and the pit in his stomach and the way his mouth felt dry. He felt lonely, forgotten. He felt like not a soul in the world cared whether he ever muttered another word. He felt his toes curling from the rigidness in his body, how uncomfortable he felt listening to the trees whisper like they knew something he didn’t. He was so lonely he had convinced himself that Loki was in the trees, whispering soft reassurances in his ear. If he closed his eyes hard enough, he could convince himself he heard him. His voice soft and delicate, smooth and clear, speaking to him as though he was singing a sweet song.
It's okay, Mobius. You’ll be okay.
And maybe if he convinced himself just enough that it was Loki, he could believe the trees. But, either fortunately or unfortunately, he hadn’t lost his mind quite that much, so he didn’t believe them. Instead, the feeling of the wind they produced buzzed past his ears, making his skin feel cold. Maybe the trees felt lonely too. Maybe that’s why they were trying to talk.
He didn’t feel much better at the TVA. In fact, in some ways, he felt worse. Loki had infiltrated every room and every memory that Mobius had (all the good ones, anyway). He couldn’t even look in a corner without seeing some version of Loki doing something mischievous with a smirk on his face.
He always envisioned loneliness as the loss of people; the barren reality that no one was around, but he never pictured it as this: the loss of a singular person, their memory swallowing him whole, making other people feel irrelevant. Lonely from a missing presence, voice, opinion. It would be different if there was an ending to it. Mobius could tuft around the TVA for a few hundred years, pretending to care, pretending to make connections elsewhere. Go to Earth and try all the candies he could find. See what time-period he thought he fit best. He could even live out a life waiting for Loki. He could do all of that happily, knowing eventually Loki would be back.
But he was gone. Forever. Locked in a void, where even if Mobius could reach it, it wasn’t like Loki could return. He was completely untouchable and gone and colors seemed bleaker, and the future seemed dimmer. He tried to find some purpose. He tried to figure out a way to free Loki, but he came up with nothing. He wondered if Loki saw him. He wondered if Loki thought he was as selfish as he felt.
So, he visited Sylvie often. She was doing better than Mobius was, but he couldn’t blame her. She was finally getting exactly what she had deserved her entire life; to be free, to live, to find something that she belonged to. Somewhere. Someone. He felt that seeing her do so well settled that lonely pit in his stomach, even if just for an hour. She didn’t tolerate him for long and he thought maybe she only tolerated him at all because she knew what he really felt deep down. Maybe she was doing it as a favor. Some parts of him thought she was doing it for both him and Loki.
He visited her at her apartment. She was getting ready to go to drinks with some colleagues. He watched her as she elegantly put some earrings in her ears and fixed her shirt. He had been explaining to her that he felt off balance and out of place, like he had no purpose in life, and even when he had desperately tried to find it, he always ended up at a dead end, haunted by an awful feeling in his chest.
“Loki was your purpose, Mobius,” she said casually, like it wasn’t the most devastating thing Mobius had ever heard. Like it wasn’t the thing he ran from at night, hiding behind walls and doors trying to escape. “He always has been. But there isn’t just one Loki, is there? There are loads. And now there is no sacred timeline, and they are all just running around amuck. Maybe you can find one of those to make your grand purpose.”
Mobius scoffed. He pretended like he hadn’t thought about that already, but the truth would stare him hard in the face: it wasn’t his Loki and if it’s not his Loki, he would feel lonely all the same. “They don’t need me. I’m just some old guy with a mustache. I think all the Loki’s of all the universes deserve to get away from me, honestly. I’ve intruded on their lives long enough.”
“Mobius,” Sylvie sighed. She looked tentative, like she didn’t really want to say what she was about to say. She took a deep breath anyway and turned to face him. “You work at the TVA. One of those luxuries is that you have access to these crazy things called Tempads that can literally bring you anywhere you want. You can go to the closest version of your Loki. You can go before he goes to New York.”
“It still wouldn’t be him,” Mobius admitted, his voice coming out in a whisper that made him feel weak.
“No, it wouldn’t,” Sylvie agreed, sitting softly next to him on her bed. Their shoulders brushed and he felt like leaning over and weeping on her, but he held back, worried she would kick him through a time door if he even tried to get that vulnerable. “But it would be close. I mean, I guess my point is, what do you have to lose? Surely, going and finding out if it’s worth anything is better than wandering around and visiting me when you don’t think I’ll kick you out.”
“Would you ever kick me out?” Mobius joked, running his shoulder into hers.
“I haven’t had the urge yet,” Sylvie said. “I just want you to find some happiness, Mobius. He would want that for you, too. If it’s in the form of a Loki or something else, I don’t know. I just want you to find something that will make you happy.”
“Thanks, Sylvie,” Mobius said, genuinely. He patted her thigh, and she gave him the weakest smile he had ever received. She was gone a few moments later, clearly feeling too bad for him to kick him out. He sat on her bed, staring at her room wondering which parts of it his Loki would like. Wondering how similar they were after all. Not similar enough to make Mobius feel comforted fully by her presence. Enough to make Mobius sob on her bed, looking at poster of The Eagles he was sure Loki would have picked out if he were here and not Sylvie.
Maybe loneliness wasn't all he felt, maybe it was also insurmountable grief that lingered in his chest and made his head feel dizzy. In the dead silence with the room still, his grief made him believe Loki might be there rubbing his back. His grief made him believe that Loki was feeling just as lonely as he was; and the worst part was that he didn't know if that made him feel better or a million times worse.
-
There he was: covered in a tunic, staring at a Loki variant. Well, he wouldn't necessarily call him a variant. It was the Loki he had watched his entire career. The Loki that the old TVA would consider the real, original Loki. The Loki that his Loki diverted from.
He looked younger, eager, angry. His black hair was longer than he remembered, his armor heavy and gold. He suited Asgard, even though in some ways, Mobius knew he hated it. He looked regal, more intimidating than Mobius knew how to handle. He had always had the upper hand when dealing with Loki and his variants. It was always on his turf, following his rules. As he stared at him on Asgard, the smirk playing on his lips, he knew he was in over his head. This Loki wouldn't give a damn about him. He was a few months away from betraying Thor and trying to take the crown. This Loki wouldn't give a damn about an old man with a mustache that had nothing good to say and nothing meaningful to offer.
But he couldn't get Sylvie’s voice out of his head. Surely there was something else. Anything else. Maybe it was this Loki and maybe it wasn't. He couldn't lie and say that watching this Loki move gracefully with high cheekbones and dangerous wit wasn't captivating. It reminded him so much of his Loki. If he pretended hard enough, he could pretend that this was his Loki, exactly as he was.
So, there he was: clenched up against a wall, knowing he didn't exactly look as though he belonged, but trying to disappear into the marble behind him. Loki was speaking with some soldier of some sort, and even from the distance Mobius could see him being witty and flirtatious in a way that made the guard look off balance. It was odd. In some ways, Mobius knew it was all an act, a means to an end. Loki’s true personality hidden beneath the depths of the water inside himself, but was it all that horrible to say that he was as charming as he appeared in the time theater?
And just as he had the thought, he swore he heard a distinct hissing in his ear. He ignored it and continued to watch.
It didn't take long for Loki to notice him. He was so aware of his surroundings, in a way Mobius could never understand. No one got past his defenses, was able to slip under the radar. His Loki told him once that one of the perks of being a cheat all his life, was that it was very hard to deceive him, to sneak around him. He must have been lying, because the Loki he was watching was a Loki that hadn't done anything too mischievous yet, but still had that sense of presence, that third eye dancing around every room he entered.
Loki caught Mobius’s eye and raised a curious eyebrow at him, as if to say: and who would you be? Mobius tried to shrink further into the wall, his eyes darting around the room to land on anything that wasn’t Loki. Unfortunately, his inability to look him in the eyes seemed to intrigue Loki more. He watched out of the corner of his eye Loki take one step forward, but Mobius was saved by the bell when another guard approached him and took him away to presumably attend some other Asgardian business. Mobius pretended that he didn’t see Loki sneak numerous curious glances back at him as he walked away.
Mobius felt like some runaway, sneaking around the garden in Asgard. He hadn’t come here with a plan, and that turned out to be a horrible idea. He had thought when he was preparing to come here that knowing exactly what was going to happen, at least loosely, would be enough to sneak under Loki’s defenses and gain his trust. He also wasn’t sure what his endgame even was. To befriend him? To stop him from doing the terrible things he was destined to do? He figured the truth was that he was there almost for entirely selfish reasons. He wasn’t there to help Loki, he was there for Loki to help him, even though he would never know that or understand it.
He stood in the garden. It was impossibly green, the trees tall and the flowers in full bloom. When Loki used to talk about it, like it was magic, Mobius could never fully grasp it or understand it. He understood it in the garden. The colors were brighter than he had ever seen, and it felt so light, and the air felt so clean. It was a shame Asgard was not infinite. If beauty could have kept it alive, well, as the saying goes.
“Asgard’s garden is something to be admired,” a voice startled him. And he knew the voice well. The soft, deep drawl that could be heard in all of Mobius’s dreams. Mobius stopped in his tracks but couldn’t bring himself to turn around. “I suppose you wouldn’t know that, given you are not Asgardian.”
Mobius clenched his eyes tightly, damning himself more than ever for attempting this without a plan and now he can’t go back. He can’t reset this timeline and try again. He went in guns blazing, his feelings getting the better of him entirely. “I assure you, I’m Asgardian. I just don't come around the palace.” He knew Loki wouldn’t believe him, if not just based on the fact he just spoke, and his voice wasn’t anything that would have been brought from Asgard.
“I am, perhaps, the worst person you could lie to here,” Loki said. He heard Loki tentatively moving in front of Mobius to face him and when he was up close with him, Mobius had to make sure his feet were sturdy. He wasn’t prepared for anything, it seemed, and so far, the most jarring part was this: standing in front of someone who he considered to be dead. Someone he loved who he tried to bury in his mind. There he was, standing in front of him with that smirk on his lips and his eyes glaring blue. A familiar Mobius could fall into, lose himself in and never return, happily. “Who are you?”
“Mobius,” he said, without thinking. Him without a plan was brazen and stupid, he thought. It was easy to allow all his cards to fly off his chest with Loki asking him the questions. He knew he really shouldn’t trust him, but him sharing a face and a voice and a stature with the person he trusted the most was really proving to do a number to him and his survival skills. “I’m from Earth. I have no bad intentions.”
“Midgard?” Loki dared, his smirk turning into a confused, rattled smile. “Why would a Midgardian be here?”
“I’m seeking salvation,” Mobius blurted out. He resisted the urge to slap himself in the face. He was digging himself in a hole and starting out a new relationship with a new Loki with a large lie felt wrong and invasive, but he didn’t see another way. Loki was not a trusting person, and thought if he just said, ‘I’m just here for shits and giggles,’ Loki would cast some spell on him on sight.
“How did you even get here?” Loki questioned, slightly angrier and more forceful than he had been previously. “No one gets passed Heimdall. He would have warned us of some Midgardian seeking salvation, if that were truly why you were here.”
And well, he had a point. So, he had two options, continue to lie and let Loki run circles around him and find every blank spot in Mobius’s lies or he could tell him the truth and worst comes to worst, he could escape to the TVA when things go south and hope he doesn’t fuck things up too badly for this Loki on this timeline. It seemed obvious which of those plans made more sense.
“You won’t believe me,” Mobius dared back, knowing intriguing Loki was the best chance he had to explain at least some of the truth. He wouldn’t tell him everything; he surely couldn’t handle all those details. Loki was smart, not invincible.
“Try me,” Loki said, getting a little too close for comfort.
“I’m from a place called the TVA,” Mobius said quietly. He glanced around and made sure there was no one else in the garden, and when he confirmed it was just the two of them, he continued. “It’s, well, it’s outside time. I have a thing called a tempad that can take me anywhere I want. And I wanted to come here.”
He was aware he wasn’t addressing the whole ‘Oh yeah, and you’re a variant and there’s a bunch of you and I’m here to meet you because I lost my version of you.’ Maybe it was better to leave that out and get to it later. Perhaps Loki would take this as an acceptable answer and let Mobius stay. For now.
“Now I just kind of want to kill you,” Loki said darkly. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”
“I can show you.”
“Oh, so you can kill me?”
“Jesus, you are so obsessed with murder,” Mobius shook his head. “No one is going to kill anyone. Or, at least, I am not going to kill you. You might still kill me, but I hope you won’t. Here, take me somewhere you feel safe, but no one will walk in. I’ll show you. I’ll use it so you don’t have to.”
“You are offending me, Mobius, thinking I would fall for this. Truly.” He thought for a minute and then scrunched his face up. “Also, you’re on Asgard literally speaking to a God and you mention Jesus?”
“Well, I'm from Midgard and you are a God,” Mobius’s eyes lit up, knowing all Loki’s are the same in some way. Their ego and curiosity would catch up to them, overpower them. He could get Loki right where he needed him, if he played it right. “So, if I was going to take you somewhere to kill you, don't you think you could easily overpower me? Or maybe you're just scared and don't want to say.”
Loki narrowed his eyes at him, and they stayed like that for a while. He watched as Loki tried to decipher Mobius and the situation that was presented to him. It was eerie how similar their facial expressions were, Mobius thought. He had to fight the guilt that was creeping up through his toes. He wondered if Loki would be mad at him for this; for trying to find comfort in some other version of him. And just as he thought it, there was a loud wush of wind, the flowers dancing inside it. He thought maybe he should investigate these strange occurrences, but now wasn’t the time, when another Loki was eyeing him up, trying to decide if he was going to kill him now or later.
He stared at him for so long, Mobius had to resist the urge to scoff in annoyance. Cause God could Loki be annoying, so annoying. Eventually, Loki clocked his head to the side and gestured for Mobius to follow. Mobius followed along with him, figuring if he died, at least he died by Loki’s hands, even if it wasn’t his Loki.
Jesus, he was such a fool. A desperate, needy, clingy fool. Allowing death to happen if some version of Loki was the one with the hands around his neck. Mobius decided he didn’t want to delve into that too much and shook his head to rid the thought.
They walked through the palace, and Mobius took in its high ceilings and grand architecture. It looked like Mobius pictured it when Loki told his stories. It looked like it was somehow from the past and the future and everywhere in between. Loki walked seamlessly through the hallways and Mobius tried to hide his face from the people who passed them. They arrived at a big room, floor to ceiling of books and beautiful marble golden floor. It was sparsely decorated, with a few chairs and a rug. Loki closed the door behind them, and Mobius wondered if this was where Loki was going to do something cruel.
He defied all odds when he simply crossed his arms at Mobius and stared. “Well?” Loki questioned. “Show me or try to kill me.”
Mobius kept his eyes locked on Loki’s the entire time he reached inside his tunic and pulled out his tempad. Loki watched intently, and Mobius shuddered with the reminder of what it felt like to have Loki’s full attention on him. “This is a tempad,” Mobius held it up. “Where should I go, do you think? I can go anywhere I want. Anywhere in time.”
“ We can go anywhere,” Loki corrected. Mobius raised an eyebrow at him. “What, do you think you’re going to try to pull some trick on me? I want to see for myself. Like you said, if you try to kill me, you hardly stand a chance. Take us to Pompeii.”
And Mobius really had to bite his tongue to remark, you Loki’s are truly all the same.
“You want to go to an apocalypse,” Mobius deadpanned. “I tell you that we can go anywhere. We can go see Shakespeare or to meet Plato or see the signing of the Declaration of Independence and you pick an apocalypse.”
Loki rolled his eyes. “It’s a strategic pick.” He uncrossed his arms and gestured for Mobius to continue. “Stop stalling.”
Mobius shrugged and put Pompeii into the tempad, and a time door appeared. He looked at Loki’s face to see his reaction but was not surprised to see that he was showing no emotion on his face, no reaction. He just followed Mobius through the tempad and they were in Italy right before the volcano went off.
Mobius waved his arm. “Pompeii.”
“This is an elaborate trick,” Loki remarked, touching some of the huts and petting the goats. “What kind of magic do you possess to create this?”
“I don’t,” Mobius shrugged. “Unless you consider the tempad magic. It’s real, not a trick. This is literally Pompeii. I suggest you marvel at it quick before we die along with everyone else.” Mobius shook his head at his own crassness. “That was in poor taste. You know what I mean.”
Loki took one last look around, before turning back to Mobius and staring him in the eye. “Take me to the Titanic sinking.”
“Are you serious?” Mobius shot back. “I am not taking you to another disaster. Come on, I’ll take you somewhere nice, one of my favorites.”
Mobius knew the date by heart, plugged it into the tempad and grabbed Loki’s wrist lightly and pulled him through. He was almost surprised he allowed him to do it, but in their history, all he knew was an easy bond, an easy sense of trust that formed between them. Maybe even this Loki could feel that.
They stepped through and showed up at the back of Elvis Presley’s first concert. The electric man on stage, surprising everyone and uplifting the entire crowd. He watched Loki look around similarly to how he looked around Italy, making sure the people were real and it wasn’t some massive illusion Mobius had put on for him.
He knew he was at least onto something, because for once Loki did not have anything to say. He watched Elvis on stage and felt the countertop of the table they were at and furrowed his eyebrows together, clearly trying to make sense of Mobius and his silly little machine.
“It’s real,” Mobius whispered, leaning into Loki’s space. “We can go anywhere. I’m from a place that’s outside of time. This is how I got to Asgard. I am not there to cause you or anyone else any harm.”
“Then why did you come?” Loki shot back. This he was familiar with. The quick anger and temper when he couldn’t understand something.
“We should continue this conversation back on Asgard,” Mobius said, motioning Loki to follow. He reluctantly did and when he was out of view of everyone, he called the time door and returned right back to the library they started in. Loki looked around his own sitting room like it was not his. Mobius wondered why he did not prepare himself for this. For Loki to be so thrown that he began to question his own reality. He supposed it was a natural reaction, but truth be told, he hadn’t expected Loki to be so shocked by it. But he couldn’t deny what he saw, which was a very shaken and unsure Loki, puttering around his room like he was a ghost inside it.
“I don't believe that was real,” Loki said after looking around the room and taking a seat, motioning for Mobius to sit next to him. Mobius did so without even having to think about it. “But say it was –”
“It was,” Mobius interrupted.
Loki glared at him, briefly. “ If it was real, and you could go literally anywhere, anytime, why here? Why now?”
And well, Mobius should have prepared an answer for that, too, but like everything else about this stupid idea, he didn't actually have a plan. Or an answer. Loki stared at him differently. There was less of an air of distrust and anger, but more curiosity and uncertainty. Mobius sat for a while, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't be too much of a lie, but also wouldn't fry Loki’s brain more than he already had.
“I had a friend who spoke highly of Asgard,” Mobius said, trying to sound confident and sure. Loki clocked his head to the side. “I'm leaving the TVA, and I needed to find somewhere to go. I figured here was as good of place than any. And as for why now, just kind of a random pick, really.” Lies, lies, lies you big fat lair.
And Mobius could tell Loki didn't believe him, but this time, he didn't call him out on it. “And what at the TVA, do you do exactly? What does someone do when they don't exist within time? Whatever that means.”
“I watched the timeline,” Mobius said, stretching his knuckles. “It's complicated. A lot of stuff happened that wouldn't really make sense to you and isn't very important. I would analyze the timeline, but the job isn't needed anymore so it was time for me to go find my own life.”
“I have about a thousand questions,” Loki said, then sputtered a little. “If any of this is real, which by the way, I still don't think it is.”
“I know,” Mobius nodded his head. “It's real, and I'm real and I'm here. I just want a chance, that's all. I'm not here to cause problems, I mean it.”
Loki watched him closely, analyzing him and his actions and Mobius tried not to squirm under his eye. It almost made him feel sick to his stomach how comforting being around this Loki was. It wasn't his Loki, but it was the closest he had ever been since Loki left. So close he could pretend that he was his Loki and maybe if he just spent the rest of his days in that ignorance, it would be better than not having it at all.
“You'll never get away with being Asgardian,” Loki said, crossing his legs and looking away from Mobius. “I could tell from the second I saw you. My father and brother will sniff you out a mile away and they won't be as hospitable as me.”
“Oh, yeah? Would you call yourself hospitable? What about the whole 'I'm the worst person to lie to here,’ speech you had a little bit ago?” Mobius liked how easy it was to have this banter with Loki. It helped play into his delusions.
“I can detect a liar like I can tell you there are books on the shelves,” Loki said, the familiar sound of arrogance dancing around in his voice. Mobius fought his mouth so he wouldn't immediately agree. “I, at least, gave you a chance to show me your magic box. My father certainly will not show that kind of trust.” Loki looked him up and down briefly.
“So, you think I should go?” Mobius asked.
“Yes, definitely you should go,” Loki agreed. Mobius tried not to be offended by the speed in which he answered. He reminded himself that this Loki had no loyalty to him, no recollection of him, and no love for him. “But you don't have to. If you really don't want to.” Mobius looked at him, and he sat with his eyes closed. He took a deep breath and continued. “I suppose I could help you, for a little while. There's a cottage hidden by magic not far from the palace. Odin and Thor wouldn't find you there. You can live peacefully.”
“What's in it for you?”
Loki looked at him, and his eyes glimmered with humor and appreciation for Mobius’s understanding that no offer held no strings. “You will show me more things with your magic box.”
“I thought you said it wasn't real,” Mobius joked. Loki looked almost offended. Almost.
“It isn't,” Loki argued. “Even if it's just magic, it's still…interesting.” They stared at each other, and Mobius watched as his mouth upturned into a small smile. A real smile. One he hadn't seen yet. It made a redness rise to his cheeks.
Suddenly, Mobius felt the weight of the room, and he watched how the sunlight gleamed a small speck of green and for some reason, his heart sank, and he felt like weeping until he fell asleep. There was a sorrow inside that gleam of sunlight, and Mobius knew immediately it was his Loki. He fought the tears in his eyes. He chanted in his head: I'm sorry, please don't be angry. I'm sorry, please don't be angry. I just miss you.
Loki looked around, and then stood. “Wait here. I'll prepare the cottage and find a safe way of getting you there. I'll be back.”
Mobius was saddened by the loss of his presence, or maybe he was frightened by the fact he was sat alone and feeling his Loki's pain radiating all throughout the room.
“He isn't you,” Mobius said out loud. “I don't even know what I'm doing. But I'm so lonely, Loki. Please forgive me.”
He listened to his heart pumping inside his ears. He was scared to even move a muscle; in case he missed even the smallest sign from Loki. He waited a few moments, and then a book fell off one of the shelves. His breath hitched, but he went over to see the book anyway.
When he picked it up and turned it over, as soon as he read the title he burst into tears, slumping on the floor and holding the book as close as he could to his chest.
The Call of the Wind.
-
It was a couple hours later till Loki returned. He waited in the library, thinking that Loki was either lying to him or playing with him, and thought maybe it would be better to just return to the TVA after all. He had put the book that flew out at him deep inside the pocket inside his tunic, hoping Loki wouldn’t notice it was missing. He wasn’t sure if the book was approval or disapproval, but he knew it was a way for Loki to say:
I’m here and I see you.
And maybe that was all he needed from him. Maybe he didn’t need Loki to approve of what he was doing, because he was going to do it anyway. He just needed to know Loki could be there with him, too. He was selfish, unbelievably so, but he thought maybe for right now, it was okay.
He got out his tempad, getting ready to call a time door when Loki returned. He barged into the room, his grin on his face, his arms wide. He saw that Mobius had his tempad out and his face fell, his eyebrows furrowed together. “Where are you going?” He questioned.
Mobius fumbled his words and the tempad. “I wasn’t sure you were coming back. It’s been a few hours, you know.” Loki shook his head and reached for the tempad, which Mobius pulled away promptly. He was a fool for Loki, especially Loki’s that looked like his Loki, but he wasn’t a blind idiot. This Loki had done little to nothing to earn his trust. He wasn’t going to let him handle the only way he had to return to the TVA. To escape, if he needed to. This Loki, by all accounts, was still very dangerous and still very untrustworthy. Loki just chuckled at his possessiveness and shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, trying to distract both my brother and my father was not an easy task. So, you really should be thanking me for securing your safe passage and a safe place to stay.” Loki ran his fingers across Mobius’s shoulders as he walked around him.
“You’re doing it for yourself, if I’m not mistaken,” Mobius bit back, moving so Loki couldn’t be within arm's reach anymore. “You’re being all weird and rude because you thought I was going to leave. You don’t need to change your personality because you feel rejected.”
Loki stared at him with his mouth agape, and he promptly shut his mouth so loud, Mobius could hear his teeth clank together. “I’m not sure what you are talking about.” Loki readjusted his armor and pointed to the door. “Our window of time is small. Are you still going?” Mobius ducked and nodded his head, following Loki out of the room. Loki waved his hand, and it looked like dust floating around them. “It will make us invisible for a short time, but they can still hear us so be quiet and watch your step.” He whispered at him. Mobius nodded and tip toed behind Loki, following him down the many corridors in the palace before they reached a giant door that looked like some kind of back entrance.
Outside felt as beautiful as the garden did, with bright colors and tall buildings. Everything had a shine of gold. The entirety of Asgard really seemed almost indescribable, it was so breathtaking. The sight was larger than life, the buildings well built with beautiful architecture, the mountains tall in the background. They walked until they reached the fields of Asgard, the clouds looked almost low enough to touch, the grass looked soft as velvet, and it was all impossibly green.
Mobius figured they were far enough from the palace and were free to speak. “My friend told me how beautiful Asgard is,” he said, cautiously. “I didn't think it would be even more beautiful than he described.”
Loki didn't answer him and kept walking on. He had never known the God to not want to talk before, but he figured it was some form of retaliation of scolding him before. He didn't take well to criticism, and that seemed to be a theme through all the Loki variants. Nevertheless, if Loki wasn't going to speak, Mobius thought he might as well fill the silence with his own voice.
“I've never seen anything like it,” Mobius continued. He thought he might have heard Loki audibly groan at him, but he chose to ignore it. “And you've seen my magic box, I can see whatever I want to. The Great Wall of China, the Cliffs of Moher, hell, I can see the Mona Lisa being painted if I want to!”
Loki finally spoke. “We are not on Earth, Mobius. Beauty looks different here. Possibilities are essentially endless.” Loki trudged further along, walking closely to a mountainside, motioning Mobius to follow, but keeping his arm halfway across him. Mobius felt his heart flutter, just a little, with the small amount of meaningless affection Loki showed him. And just as he felt himself enjoy his company; a gust of wind blew hard into his ear.
I'm sorry, Loki. Mobius thought, with his eyes closed tightly in guilt. It made everything so much harder knowing Loki was watching all of this happen; his eyes peeled on Mobius and his little reactions to the faintest moment between him and his (lesser) variant. He had to fight the part of himself that wondered if Loki would try to find another Mobius (or Don), if the roles were reversed. He convinced himself the answer was yes, but buried deep within all the layers of guilt and justification hid the well-lit truth: he wouldn't, and moreover, he couldn't. His Loki would never. It was just Mobius hiding in this corner, trying to find any way necessary to cure his own lonely heart. How utterly and truly disappointing.
“We're not far,” Loki said, as they edged a cliff. The smell of water and the feeling of the gust of wind grounded Mobius in a way he hadn't quite expected. Loki lifted his hand and waved some sort of enchantment, and a small cottage was revealed, sitting close to the cliff. It was made of dark brick and had small windows. It looked more like a hideout than a home, but Loki moved towards it with haste, like he had walked the path a million times over. “My mother showed me how to hide things with my magic, when I was younger. I think she more meant my toys so Thor couldn't snatch them when I wasn't looking. I don't think she meant an entire house near a cliff.”
As they got closer to the cliff, Mobius marveled in the simplicity of the cottage, built expertly, love seemingly hammered in each brick. The bricks were worn, and they all varied in color, but it still looked like something out of a fairytale. It looked very different from the rest of the buildings he had seen in Asgard, to which he pointed out to Loki.
Loki shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure where it came from. I found it when I was young, and I hid it from Thor. No one has ever claimed it or asked about it, so I took it over. It’s nicer on the inside.”
Loki swung the door open, and he was right. It was as small as it looked on the outside, but the inside was decorated with elegant furnishings, gold and green in almost everything in the room. The windows were letting in a plentiful amount of sunlight, and the feeling was rustic without being too homely. It looked like Loki had poured out all his interests into a small cottage, with books everywhere and an extensive wine rack, collections from other planets lining the shelves, Mobius had to guess. He felt he was intruding on something sacred, it felt that personal. Loki didn’t seem to outwardly agree, throwing himself into the lavish green chair in the corner of the room. He looked exhausted, but he gestured for Mobius to sit on the other chair across from him.
When Mobius sat, he felt all the weight he had been carrying land right into the pit of his stomach. The guilt rising in his throat, he felt uncomfortable in his shoes, and he couldn’t sit still. Loki, thankfully, didn't notice. “Uh,” Mobius cleared his throat. Loki lifted his eyebrows but didn’t open his eyes. “Thank you for letting me stay here. This place feels personal to you.”
Loki all but scoffed. “Please,” he said, opening his eyes and sitting up dramatically. “I’m a prince. These are just all the extra things I don’t know what to do with. But you are welcome. It’s not much, but it should suffice for the time being.” And Mobius knew he was lying, but let it slide without digging it up. As he looked around the room, he realized the belongings inside were all things he wouldn’t want others to know. The house was filled to the brim with sentimental and meaningful annotated books and possessions that seemed to mean more to Loki than they were worth. Decorations that traditionally Loki would find gaudy or childlike. Mobius was an analyst, before anything else. It used to be his job to notice these things.
“It’s wonderful,” Mobius said. He was very much looking forward to going through every inch of this cottage to learn more about Loki. He was giddy at the thought. All the personal items in this cottage were also personal to his Loki and he couldn’t wait to unravel all the stories his Loki never got to tell him.
“How long do you plan to stay?” Loki asked abruptly.
“I haven’t really thought about it,” Mobius scratched his chin. “I don’t know, I guess. However long you can stand me.”
“Probably not long, then,” Loki said, and Mobius wanted to laugh, but he realized Loki was not joking. He forgot how brass Loki used to be. Mobius had to try to stifle a giggle anyway, because how stereotypical. “Did you just laugh at me?” Loki shot him a very dirty look.
“You’re just very straightforward,” Mobius said, forcing his mouth to go into a straight line. “Not used to it.”
Maybe he should really consider the gravity of all of this. He was trying to build some new friendship with a new Loki surrounded by lies and problems. He knew Loki; knew almost everything about him. He knew all the intricacies of his life, how he felt at his darkest periods. For goodness sakes, he even knew how he died. He wondered if this Loki knew the truth about Mobius and everything that went along with it, if he would feel taken advantage of. It was turning out to be a horrible idea and he thought he should just leave and return to the TVA that night. But that raised so many new problems. How would he leave this Loki? What would become of him? How would it affect him?
He really made a mess of things, and he couldn’t take any of it back.
Loki hummed at him, and Mobius shifted uncomfortably in his seat; questions eating at him that he couldn't ask anyone but himself. All of it felt wrong and desperate and manipulative.
“I'll let you rest,” Loki said after a few more moments of tense silence. Mobius couldn't even look at him. “I'll be back tomorrow, and you can answer some more questions for me.”
“Sure,” Mobius said quietly, his eyes planted hard in his own lap. He was surrounded by Loki, in more ways than one and he felt like an absolute dickhead.
He could feel Loki’s curious eyes on him, but he didn't look up at him. Loki stared for a moment, before turning and leaving, shutting the door behind him with magic.
Mobius waited a few minutes to make sure he was truly gone before laying on the floor, the green fluffy rug engulfing half his face, and burrowing in it to cry. Fiery, hot tears that demanded to be released etched onto his skin and he wept until he had given himself a headache.
He lay on the rug in silence after he finished crying, his head pounding and his face itchy from his tears. He drifted off to sleep from pure exhaustion, figuring all these problems would still be around tomorrow. He didn't have the energy to address them now.
-
He woke up flat on the floor and he was right, unfortunately. All his problems stuck around, staring at him in the face. His back hurt and he couldn't feel the underside of his hip, where most of his weight was as he slept. It was still relatively dark outside, so he decided to find the bedroom and sleep another hour or so in a real bed, hoping that would cure how horrible his body and his mind felt.
He walked to the back of the cottage, where the only door was. Everything else was essentially one room. It led to a bedroom that was small, but functional. It wasn't as decorated as the rest of the house. A comfortable-looking, large bed in the middle with a black quilt on top. There was a small wooden dresser and a nightstand with a green lamp. There was one singular painting above the bed, with a beautiful picture of the rolling hills of Asgard, as if it were painted on top of one of the neighboring mountains. Mobius looked close to the painting and saw Loki’s distinct signature in the bottom right-hand corner.
“I didn't know you painted, Loki,” Mobius whispered into the air. He heard the closet door open behind him, and when he turned and entered the closet, he found a massive quantity of painting supplies and even more paintings shoved up against the wall. “Thank you for sharing, Loki.” Mobius smiled and sat in the closet, looking at each painting, marveling at all the talent that oozed from each canvas.
He spent too long looking at Loki’s paintings, and before he knew it, he heard a knock at the door. He jumped and put everything back as he found it. He straightened himself up and combed his fingers through his hair before he opened the door. He opened the door to a very put together and regal Loki, which had slicked hair and a royal looking tunic. More casual than he had been yesterday, but obviously still making some kind of statement.
His face fell when he looked at Mobius. “You look unwell,” he said insensitively. “I didn't think the bed was that uncomfortable.”
Mobius fumbled with his words and with the door, letting Loki inside. “It's not – I mean I'm sure it's not. I, uh, I fell asleep on the floor. I'm sure the bed is very comfortable.”
Loki stood in the small kitchenette and turned to look at him. “You,” he paused for dramatics, “slept on the floor?”
“Yeah, I guess I was just really tired.”
Loki let out a condescending chuckle. “You are very odd. Even for a Midgardian.” He held out his hands and magically put forward a very lavish looking breakfast, with bread and fruit and yogurt. “There isn't any food here. I brought you this to eat. I'll figure out a way to get more food to you in time.”
“I can figure that out, Loki,” Mobius dismissed, sitting down and digging into the fruit. Suddenly he understood why Asgardians didn't bother with traditional candy from Earth. The grapes he ate were full of colorful, sweet flavor that left a wonderful tang in his mouth. He could eat this for the rest of his life, he thought.
“You misunderstand,” Loki hummed, stealing a grape for himself. If a few days ago, someone told Mobius he would be sitting across from pre–New York Loki sharing grapes on Asgard, he would have laughed in their face. “You can't go into town, or we will both have a lot to answer to. I will figure it out, so you don't get us both into trouble.” Loki paused for a minute to chew, before continuing. “If there's anything else you need, just tell me and I will get it for you. I really do not need you making matters worse for me with my father.”
And Mobius tried not to chime in. He knew all about the issues Loki had with Odin, obviously, but this Loki didn't know he knew. He could offer so much advice to this Loki. Like ‘hey, did you know you're a frost giant and Odin took you from your planet?’ The ethics of this entire plan were questionable at best.
“I'll stay put, captain Loki,” Mobius saluted, eating some more of the breakfast Loki brought him. Loki looked at him questionably, and Mobius knew Loki too well, and knew when he was trying not to smile but forcing his mouth into a frown. He knew at the very least, most Loki’s found him humorous. “Thanks for doing that for me.”
“I'm not doing it for you, ” Loki corrected. “I'm doing it for me. Did you – did you not hear a word I just said?” Loki had both of his hands on the countertop, like he was ready to pounce at any second. His temper was otherworldly, it always had been. If it were his Loki, he could have made this whole thing into a joke, unraveling him and taming the anger with a simple raise of an eyebrow. But this was not his Loki. And unfortunately, he found himself having to constantly remind himself of that fact. He was becoming seemingly delusional enough to believe that he could make this Loki be his Loki, and he could fix everything with some conversations and some grapes.
There wasn't any Loki like his Loki. Truth hurt like a dagger, stabbing him just above his heart making him bleed out painfully slow.
When he locked eyes with this Loki, his heart sank when he didn't see the eyes, he needed to see looking back at him. A poor distinction of what is and what was and what could never be.
“I heard you,” Mobius waved his hand in dismissal. “Just trying to have some casual, fun rapport with you, is all.” Loki took his hands off the counter and centered himself. “It doesn't have to be so serious all the time.”
Loki laughed in his face. “You would know nothing of it,” he said, menacingly. Mobius knew how to break down Lokis, how to squeeze himself past their barricades. But he didn't want to do it that way this time. He wanted to reach out his hand to a very sad man, and hope in time he reaches back. He wanted to build off genuine trust and understanding. He wanted to help this Loki learn that there are people in the world (or universe) that would love him without needing something from him. That would love even the darkest parts of him. He wanted to offer him salvation from the nagging thoughts he knew he had about himself in the form of real and true friendship.
He wasn't delusional enough to think that it would be easy or quick. If he wanted to do that, it would take years. Centuries. However long it took his Loki to understand it and to want it back. He didn't know how long he had in Asgard, and he was giving himself a huge task, but he wanted to try. If for anything, then just for the selfish, desperate need for a purpose again.
“I didn't mean to offend you,” Mobius said, genuinely, meeting Loki’s eyes. “I was just joking, but I'll reel it in next time. I get it if it's not your thing.” Mobius watched Loki analyze him carefully, his eyes darting all over Mobius’s face. Loki opened his mouth to say something, but Mobius was quick to speak first, just so they couldn't continue the argument. “Anyway, I'm sure you're not here just to bring me food. I'm assuming it's question time? Maybe we should start with something easy. Like, for example, what does the TVA stand for?”
Loki gave him a very pointed face, and Mobius dusted his hands off his shirt, realizing he would eventually need to ask for a change of clothes. He didn't think Loki would be feeling very generous just yet, so that was something that could be asked later. “You can't ask questions for me.” Loki said.
“Okay, then what's your question?”
“Well,” Loki thought, “now that you mention it, what does the ‘TVA’ stand for?”
Mobius fought his own smirk. “Time Variance Authority.”
Loki leaned across the counter, giving Mobius his full attention. They spent the next few hours like that, with Loki asking as many questions as he could think of and Mobius answering them in a way that was easy to understand. They covered basic aspects of Mobius and his life at the TVA. The whole part about fake timekeepers and being stolen from the timeline. Mobius told him about He Who Remains and how there was only ever supposed to be one branch of time, but that it wasn't exactly the only way for things to work.
He didn't broach the subject of variants yet. That was a conversation for another day. He managed to find his way around it, talking about different threads of time, and how time didn't exist at the TVA, and how he thought he was an analyst that made sure everyone followed what they were supposed to do.
He explained some very brave people took down He Who Remains, making everyone have the freedom to choose their own destiny and fates. He conveniently left out the part about the loom exploding and another Loki replacing it.
Loki and Mobius moved to the living room, Mobius was sprawled out of the floor, showing Loki different theories of time with figurines from around the room and Loki was sat on the chair, leaning over and trying to grasp what he was saying.
They were at it for another few hours, before Loki leaned back and rubbed his temples. “If you're lying to me about this, I am very concerned for your mental status.” Mobius laughed; a full belly laugh he hadn't been able to find in a while.
“I'm not lying to you,” Mobius said after his laughter died down. He peered over at Loki, who had his hand on his head, looking down at all the deconstructed figurines Mobius had laid out. “It's a lot though. And it sounds like a load of shit, so I get it.”
“So, if you watched over one grand timeline,” Loki ignored Mobius, leaning closer to him. “And everything was supposed to play out a certain way, wouldn't you know what was going to happen? To everyone? What's going to happen to me?”
“I don't know, that's the point,” Mobius said, sincerely. “I could have known at one point, but I wasn't your analyst for your specific timeline.” Liar, you filthy scummy liar. “But even that analyst wouldn't know anymore. The timeline isn't one linear timeline anymore. People are free to choose and make their own choices. It's not a set-in stone path. No one knows what will happen.”
“I'd almost rather know,” Loki said quietly. Mobius took all of him in, watching his shoulder shrink and his long fingers fall into his lap. Mobius could comfort him, let him know about Thor’s banishment and how it would end terribly for him, getting him swept up and tortured by Thanos. He could try to prevent it by telling him about it, but he worried telling Loki would edge him closer to it. He knew this Loki was still enamored with the idea of a throne. He worried the thought of having a crown even for a few months would be worth the years of torture.
“Eh, I think everyone thinks they want to know. I don't think anyone actually wants to know. At least now, when you don't know, all your choices are entirely your own.” Mobius leaned back onto his hands. “Besides, what if it's bad? And then you feel like you don’t have anything to look forward to?”
Loki looked at him from underneath his eyelashes, hooded and dark. It was strange, Mobius thought. He knew this Loki had so much darkness and evil just hiding right beneath the surface. This Loki could probably dispose of him like it was nothing and never think of him again. But, even with the dark looks and pointed comments, Mobius didn't feel in danger. He felt safe locked in Loki’s cottage surrounded by the things that mattered to him. Almost like he was under his protection. And maybe that is what Loki wanted him to feel to better betray him. He guessed it wouldn't be far off to what he had seen Loki do in the time-theater. But he couldn't shake the feeling of trust he already felt towards this Loki.
“I doubt my fate could be that bad,” Loki said, leaning his face up to look at Mobius properly. “I’m a god and a prince.”
It was those comments that made Mobius want to spill the beans the most. How wrong you are, he thought. If only you knew how most of your variants were locked in a void and another variant became the tree of time and how you are supposed to be killed in your prime. Lokis are destined to lose, he remembered. If he could stop it, he would make sure this Loki didn't lose. He would make sure this Loki found happiness.
“I guess you'll find out,” Mobius tried to muster the most genuine smile he could find within himself. “That's the beauty of it. We all can choose.” Mobius twisted his face up with confusion. “It sounds stupid, I guess. For you, nothing has really changed. You have spent your whole life with the ability to choose and with the belief that you did. But it's all very new to me, so I'm still finding it somewhat bewildering.” He crossed his legs and Loki sat back in his chair, raking him over and clearly lost in thought.
“I think I've had enough for today,” Loki said, standing up and using his magic to put all the figurines back in their place. Mobius quickly rose to his feet, dusting his pants off and facing Loki. “I'll be back later with dinner.”
He headed for the door and Mobius quickly called his name to get his attention. “Where can I, like, go, exactly? I mean, it's great in here, don't get me wrong, but I would like to you know, go outside, possibly.”
Loki rolled his eyes like the request was ridiculous. “Just stay in the general vicinity. No one comes over here, but if you see someone or hear someone get to the cottage. You'll be hidden by my magic.” He looked over Mobius and his dirty brown slacks and stained white dress shirt he had been wearing. He felt very self-conscious watching Loki look over his admittedly very disheveled appearance. He waved his hand and presented him with fresh clothes. He handed him what looked like dark blue lounge pants made of fine cotton and a button down made of the same material. “I'll bring another change of clothes tomorrow with breakfast.”
“Thank you, Loki,” Mobius took Loki’s wrist delicately as he took the clothes out of his hands. “I know you're not doing it for me, but you're helping me regardless. So, thank you.”
Loki didn't even flinch, or show an inch of a smile, just curtly nodded before turning and leaving. He left Mobius in his dust, in dirty clothes with the best tasting grapes and bread he had ever tasted sitting on the wayside. He stood in the silence for a moment, before whispering, “I'm going to help him, Loki.”
He wasn't sure, but he thought he might have felt what felt like warm breath on his cheek, as if to say: you're the only person who can.
-
Loki was back with dinner, and some more food that could last him well into the next day. He brought supplies for showering and some books. As he stared at Loki and the admittedly very considerate pile of items, he had brought him, he felt the familiar twang of affection swell in his stomach. This Loki had pieces of his Loki, as damned as he was to even think it. The kindness he thought he never offered showed up in considerate gestures and small things he could conjure.
“Wow,” Mobius marveled, before he could stop himself. He didn't want a repeat of this morning. Loki was hellbent on making sure Mobius knew that none of this was for his benefit. “I mean, thanks.” Mobius tried to play it off with a shrug.
He picked up the books Loki had gotten them, and true to form, they were all different classics from different times. The Iliad, The Great Gatsby, Romeo and Juliet , and so on.
“I didn't think you could get so many Midgardian books here,” Mobius said, going through the rest of the stack.
Loki shrugged. “I like literature from all planets. I steal them, or people bring them back to me as gifts. I thought you'd like those, given they're from your planet.”
“I mean, I haven't read most of them,” Mobius admitted, sitting down to have some eat some of the soup Loki had brought him. It smelled divine, and he could tell quickly it was potato and vegetable soup. As he ate it, it tasted so delicious he felt like he hadn't eaten in ages. “There wasn't much free time in the TVA, but I’ve always wanted to read and I kind of have all the free time in the world, when you're not visiting.”
Loki watched him carefully. So carefully in fact, Mobius began to wonder if he poisoned the soup or not. He decided quickly that the soup tasted so good that he didn't care if it was poisoned. He took an exaggerated bite of his soup and Loki finally looked away.
“Did you have any more questions?” Mobius asked. He noticed Loki had an uncomfortable attitude about him, lingering around the kitchen and the pile of books he brought him. “You don't have to hang around. I don't expect you to hang out with me just because I don't see anyone else.”
“I know,” Loki said, shortly. “I don't have any questions. I just –” Loki was fumbling over his words, his cheeks turning red. He had to remind himself that this Loki was also younger than his Loki was, and therefore not as charming and set in his ways. He couldn't talk the pants off anyone just yet. Loki at this point had mastered manipulative diplomacy but did not quite have the wits to charm the grandmaster.
Mobius set his spoon down in his bowl, producing a rather loud clink sound that likely sounded louder in the awkward, tense silence that hung around them. “Do you like Romeo and Juliet? ” Mobius asked. Loki’s adverted eyes snapped to his and he watched as his face went from tense, unsure, maybe slightly angry to soft, and curious. Mobius never wanted more than to reach over and rub the creases within his face, memorize the lines that would become more prominent over time.
“I prefer Hamlet,” Loki answered, confidently. “I would have given you that one instead, but my copy has been well used.”
“I can take you to see an original Hamlet play, if you want, sometime.” Mobius tried his best to sound casual, like he wasn't that interested. He knew how to handle most Lokis. The second they sensed pressure or expectations they ran for the hills.
“Perhaps,” Loki said. His demeanor was slowly starting to go back to normal. The tender lines in his face and the sullen look in his eyes hardening, his posture standing tall and his mouth in a straight line. “I must remind you; we are not friends. I will bring you what you need, and you will stay here in exchange for information and use of your time box. This is a mutual beneficial relationship that relies on exchanges, not niceties.”
The formality of how he was speaking made Mobius feel like all the air got sucked out of his chest. He wasn’t sure why he expected different. He shouldn’t have expected different. This Loki on this timeline didn’t want friends and pitied people who thought that they did. The people he cared about were considered weaknesses, nothing more and nothing less.
“Understood,” Mobius said, quietly into his soup. Loki stood in the kitchen for not even a second longer before leaving the cottage. He sat quietly, eating his soup, feeling the warmth of it drain slowly, leaving nothing but a sour taste in his mouth. He pushed it away, the sinking in his stomach making it hard for him to eat. He hadn’t quite expected to feel so dejected from an experience like that with this Loki. He hadn’t really expected to care. He had hardened his heart enough, he thought, to be able to sustain the detached nature that Loki had. He knew what he was walking into and yet, it was still able to dance along his nerves, making him feel vulnerable and disproportionate.
After he decided he couldn't eat anymore, he got himself cleaned up. He liked how the water felt on his skin, making him feel clean and ready for another interaction with Loki. Almost as if the water had cleansed the last one they had, washing it away and making way for a new, better one to take its place. The clothes Loki had conjured might also have been the most comfortable outfit he had ever worn, the cotton soft and fine on his skin. He felt like a new person; ready to see the sun.
He marveled at the world around him outside the cottage. The cottage was almost too close to the the cliff, but he figured he was safe enough, for the presumably short time he would reside there. It hadn't fallen off the cliff yet, right? Off the cliff he had expected to see water, as he would see on Earth, but instead he saw blankets of nothingness, with a kaleidoscope of colors surrounding the edge. There wasn't anything around him for miles, as far as he could tell. He looked in all directions from the cottage and saw nothing between the mountains, the cliff, and the grass. He could scream as loud as he wanted, and he was sure no one would hear.
He found himself thinking this was the perfect place to talk to Loki. To his Loki. When he opened him mouth, he had no words. His mouth was dry, and his body went slack.
“Hm,” he groaned. The breeze picked up, and it was just a breeze, but it felt impatient, like it was waiting. Like he was waiting. “I miss you.”
It was a lame thing to say, but it was all he could find in himself. Everything else either sounded too dramatic or too much like small talk. He could rack his brain and find a million things he wanted to say to Loki, but most of it he wanted a reaction to. A real one. One with Loki saying all of it back to him. A conversation. And not one with trees and books and subliminal messages. Maybe that was selfish and irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, but it was what it was. He could try to run from it, but it would find him all the same.
The breeze stayed steady, like he was waiting for more, an unwavering sign of I'm not leaving. Say what you need to.
“Are you lonely, Loki?” Mobius asked, as if he could answer. “I am. So lonely. Everywhere I go I'm lonely. You don't want to hear it, but I'm the least lonely here, with a version of you. I'm sorry, Loki, I know you really don't want to hear this, but I have to say it because I know somehow you can see me. It's nice being with him. And I know he's not you, but he's a piece of you. Some of you. Kind of you. It's nice to have some of you, then none of you at all.”
The breeze abruptly died, the blades of grass still and the air as quiet as could be. He tightly closed his eyes and felt his jaw lock. He felt like an idiot, on Asgard wearing blue pajamas given to him by someone who doesn't understand even a fraction of what's really happening, talking to someone who meant everything, trying to find purpose in a winless situation. He thought about flying off the cliff, right into the underbelly of the nothingness.
Maybe then he could feel something real.
-
The next few weeks were rather monotonous. Loki stopped by once or twice a day bringing food and clothes, lingering like he had something to say, but saying nothing at all. Their conversations were dull and unimportant. He didn't have the energy to deal with Loki’s mixed messages and grumpiness. He wondered if Loki was just going to kick him out. Or kill him. They weren't doing anything other than side stepping each other and pretending any of it was normal. Loki hadn't asked him any more questions, and Mobius felt like a freeloader.
It was when Loki was bringing him dinner and breakfast for the morning that Mobius cracked. “I'm going to use my Tempad to go to the Elvis show,” he said, taking a bite of some of the roast Loki brought him. It was delicious, but he wouldn't say it out loud. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Loki’s face twisted, and Mobius couldn't read the emotion. “Why would I have a problem with it? You're not a hostage.”
“I might not come back,” Mobius added. And it wasn't true. He'd always come back. That confession he offered Loki was two things: heartbreaking and honest. Wandering around trying to find a purpose when your purpose was literally locked in a void (a tree?) was like staring in the mirror and seeing nothing back, empty, miserable, terrifying. At least, on Asgard with this Loki, he felt something other than lost. So, while he had that flicker of something other than grief, he'd always come back. Was he trying to hurt him? No, not necessarily. He just wanted to see something other than a stoic and emotionless face on him. Maybe playing on the whole 'I'm not good enough’ thing wasn't a fair play.
And he was right. It wasn't fair. He watched Loki’s face fall and his scowl set in before he brought his neutral face back. “You can do as you please,” Loki added, nastily. “I don't think you'll find this level of hospitality elsewhere.”
“I'd have company elsewhere,” Mobius seethed quietly. He didn't know why exactly he was so angry. Loki had made no promises to be friends with him, and Mobius had never asked him to. He never asked him to stay the day or asked him what was next. Maybe the lack of human interaction was getting to him a little more than he was letting on or letting himself believe.
Loki stared at him, hard lines and unforgiving eyes seeping into his skin. He didn't meet his eyes, just waited for Loki to leave. And he did, eventually. After lingering for a moment too long. He didn't say anything when he left, and Mobius didn't watch him as he did. When he looked back at the counter, he saw a brand-new copy of Hamlet sitting on the counter. Mobius felt like crying but ate his roast instead.
The next day, Loki came early in the morning. Earlier than he usually came. Especially since he brought breakfast and a change of clothes the previous night. Mobius groaned when he heard the knock at the door. He thought about not letting Loki inside. But then the thought of Loki walking back to the palace alone and angry made him groan harder with obligation.
“Coming!” He shouted, getting up and lazily throwing the covers over the (very comfortable) bed. He buttoned up one of the cotton shirts Loki was always bringing him. Maybe he should ask him for some other options. He was essentially wearing the same thing every day. It felt a little too close to the TVA for his liking.
When he opened the door, he found Loki looking rather uncomfortable, dressed in his tunic and his hair perfectly slicked. Like he didn't sleep at all. Like he just went to bed perfectly and woke up perfectly.
“It's early,” Loki announced. Mobius rolled his eyes. He was rolling his eyes at the God of mischief. Loki either didn’t notice or didn't care. Mobius walked away from the door, but left it open as an invitation. He sat on one of the chairs in the living room and Loki sat slightly awkwardly on the other one. He took a deep breath before he spoke again. “I'd like to go see Hamlet. After you've read the original play, of course.”
Mobius was taken aback, and guilt settled deep inside his belly. He wanted to spend time with Loki, but not like this. Not because Loki felt like he was going to lose him if he didn't. “Loki, is this about what I said yesterday?” Loki didn't answer, which was answer enough. “That was – look, that was uncalled for. You're doing so much for me, and I was being an asshole. You don't have to spend time with me. I'll survive. I can use my tempad and get company that way. I shouldn't have said that or put that on you.”
“Mobius,” he frowned, shaking his head. “I'm not doing this for you. How many times must we have this conversation?”
Mobius looked at him with disbelief. “Then I'm not entirely sure what we're doing. We're doing the same thing every day and you're not asking any questions. You haven't asked to go anywhere.”
“You don't have any right to question my motives,” Loki said coldly. “I came here offering to spend time with you, and now you're insulting me. You Midgardians are truly idiotic.”
And there it was. The thing Mobius was ignoring. The cruelty and the repressed emotions this Loki had sitting under his skin. The inability to be vulnerable, even when someone was practically begging on their knees for it. And Mobius wasn’t begging on his knees, but maybe he should. Maybe that would help him see.
“Loki,” Mobius sighed into his hands, harshly rubbing his face to try to make himself weigh his reaction. “I’m human, okay? I don’t want to sit here all by myself all the time. I’m sorry I made you feel bad about not spending time with me. We don’t have to address it again. It’s not your problem.”
They didn’t say anything for a while. They stared in silence for so long, Mobius wondered if Loki was demising a plan to get rid of him. It wouldn’t be the most out of character thing he had ever done. In fact, allowing Mobius to stay here and bringing him things every day was likely way more out of character than killing him to begin with. What happened next was truly mind boggling.
Mobius looked over to Loki who was gripping a well-loved copy of Hamlet. Loki wasn’t looking at him, but Mobius could tell he was waiting for him to notice. So, he did. He slowly took the book out of Loki’s hands and looked at it, carefully. It was annotated like nothing Mobius had ever seen. The binding was tattered and barely holding the pages together. Loki had written inside most of the pages, noting different parts of the play he found interesting. Mobius wished he could enter the book into TVA evidence so he could study it for weeks, maybe even months.
Loki wasn’t saying anything and wasn’t even looking at him. Like he was scared he was even offering this much to Mobius. And Mobius wished he could tell him, ‘Don’t worry, there’s another version of you that loves me and trusts me,’ but that would probably cause more problems than answer any questions. Plus, he wasn’t sure his Loki loved him or trusted him anymore. That silent feeling of not being alone was gone, and all that was left was vacant air and grey tones to the sky. And yet, even with that feeling of being abandoned by the person who started all of this, he still sat with this other version, running his fingers over a tattered book, trying to savor the moment. He felt like a traitor. He pushed it down. He could think about it later. He could apologize later.
“It really is your favorite play, huh?” Mobius said with a smile, looking over at Loki who was still making a point not to look at him. A part of him felt bad, like he had forced even this much out of Loki. But to be fair, they wouldn’t even have gotten this far without a little bit of poking on Mobius’s part. This Loki was wound tight, untrusting, constantly plotting. Constantly thinking other people were plotting. He wondered how much longer until they go to Jotunheim and Loki learns who he is, what he is. He wonders if that is a wrecking ball he could help Loki through.
“Well, I believe that is what I said,” Loki said, after a few quiet moments.
“I read it last night,” Mobius admitted, gently placing the book back in Loki’s lap, who gripped it tighter than he originally did. Mobius shuffled into the bedroom, grabbing the copy Loki brought him the previous night. “I loved it. Maybe not better than Romeo and Juliet, but.”
Loki scoffed. “Please, Hamlet is far superior.”
Mobius notes he is actively fighting a smile. A real one.
“I’d like to see the play,” Loki said quietly, but firmly. “Not because you’re asking for company. I’d like to see the play.”
“I can just send you, if you want,” Mobius offered. He didn’t want that, but he wanted Loki to have the option. “I don’t have to go with you.”
Mobius watched Loki get uncomfortable, withering on his seat. He liked watching him squirm, just a bit. “You should see it, too, I’d think.”
It was good enough for Mobius. It was close enough to asking him to come. He nodded at Loki, smiling at him softly. Loki looked so uncomfortable, and it was a strange sight to see, but Mobius thought he might have looked the most human here. He looked human in the time theater; the first time Mobius saw him and not the facade. This was different. The way he was swallowing hard and avoiding eye contact.
Suddenly, Mobius had the urge to scrub his skin in the shower. He felt dirty, like he was tainting this Loki because he wanted to have his cake and eat it too. These were experiences he should be having with someone who wasn’t keeping things from him. Who didn’t come to him because he could be some placeholder for someone else. He felt like he could vomit from the realization that he wasn’t just hurting his Loki; he was stealing from this Loki.
He had fallen so far down a rabbit hole he had no plan on how to dig himself back out.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to.