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When he said it hurt like hell, it hurt like hell.
Each case tended to go wrong in its own unique and terrible way. Whether one of them leaves with a torn shirt and headache, or a deep gash and a broken spirit, one thing was certain; that Mobius and Loki looked out for each other.
Though, Loki would hardly admit he had grown quite fond of the man he called his partner.
Beyond that, he would hardly admit when he really, truly needed his help. He was independent, he knew this, and sometimes asking for the help or pity of another more than once seemed too much mental strain- for both him and whoever had the bad fortune of being alongside him. He hadn't realized the severity of the injury at the time, as a large piece of metal tore away at his abdomen while swimming from an impending tsunami. His magic had already begun to heal him, fixing the initial trauma while the freezing water numbed him.
He has assumed the blood in the water hadn't been his.
Now there he was, wandering aimlessly along the TVA corridors, wishing desperately he could lay his inhibitions to rest all the while sparing his friend the worry. Though, he knew it was unlikely.
The air felt cold against his skin, each step sending a fiery blast of pain across his stomach and up to his back. He grimaced. Pathetic, he thought to himself weakly. Who are you without your power?
"Loki? Loki!"
His voice sounded distant at first, so much he grew concerned he had never heard it at all. A sharp exhale left Loki's mouth as another pang sent shockwaves through his body.
"Oh no- oh no-!"
He stumbled, his legs crossing wildly over each other and he fell into the wall next to him. He began to sink to his knees, the pain becoming overpowering as he fought to stay present. How was it getting worse?
He realized then the wound no longer felt cold. It felt hot, burning as fresh blood spilled from the wound. Loki realized then how little healing had taken place.
"Loki? Hey, hey look at me."
Mobius's voice was soft, calming as it was fearful. Loki wanted to melt into the other, hide from the agony.
"I-I'm sorry," he gasped. "I thought it had healed- I thought- I thought it wasn't this bad-"
"Shh," he whispered, keeping a steady hand on Loki's back. "Loki, can you walk?"
Loki stopped for a moment, his eyes falling to the ground in shame. His breathing was already erratic, jumbling his thoughts and rationality to the point he wasn't sure of anything. He looked up at Mobius now, his eyes scanning his for a sign.
"Come on."
Loki hadn't realized how many people were there with them. Maybe it was adrenaline, or his partial loss of vision from the wound, either way, the voices began to filter in at that moment. Agents and hunters, some workers he had never seen all gathered around them. Mobius had taken one side, while a hunter had him on the other, leading him out of the hall when his body began to go limp. He fought against it, begging himself to stay upright just long enough to prove he was capable. But he wasn't, and they knew this. His knees buckled beneath him, sending both him and the other two staggering forward with an "oh-!"
He could feel them ease him to the ground, pain shooting through him again as he made contact with the floor- causing him to cry out.
"We need to address the wounds here," Mobius said, his voice sharp and heavy. "He's deteriorating, either we let him use magic or we heal him ourselves."
"We can't just let that happen, we have to be outside of the TVA," someone said. "We need to take him somewhere else."
As they spoke, others had taken to pressing against his wound to suppress the bleeding. At first, it was agony. But after a while, he felt a warmth come over his body, a peace he had never felt as the pain melted away. He knew it wasn't supposed to happen, Mobius frantically calling his name being a sure sign, but the relief was something he couldn't deny.
"Loki! Stay with us, come on-"
Before he slipped into sleep, the last thing he saw was Mobius over him, eyes wide and brimming with tears. God, he was tired. But he regretting falling asleep all the same.
...
"If I would've known he was hurt, I wouldn't have taken my eyes off him, what more is there to understand?"
Mobius looked at Renslayer for a moment. Defiance wasn't typically in his nature, though he'll admit his actions spoke otherwise. He was more a calm deviant, not driven by a harsh nature but rather a calm and collected one. She sighed, resting her pointer and thumb on the bridge of her nose.
"I know, I know. But we can't have events like that happen, Mobius. Half our team was distracted, imagine if the variant had struck then?"
"You know I respect you, Renslayer. I really do, I admire you and you know that. But this just seems wrong, he's still a person," Mobius said, frowning. "I know in the grander scheme of things we have a lot to worry about but I saw humanity out there. A collective force of good working toward an unspoken goal."
"Which is?"
"Making sure variant or not, we're taking care of each other."
...
Loki woke on the couch that night.
Wait, couch?
He had expected to still be on the floor. Though he knew Mobius would never, it wasn't out of the picture that another agent might let him stay on the ground. After all, they weren't too fond of him. He went to stretch, the sharp pains from his stomach stopping him in his tracks as he remembered why he was there.
The room was dark, dark enough that beyond his fixed point on the couch, Loki could hardly see a thing. A voice pierced the air, causing him to jump.
"Hey, how are you feeling?"
As Loki realized who it was, he sank back into the couch.
"Fine," he mumbled. Mobius raised an eyebrow.
"Really? You didn't seem too fine back there when you were bleeding out in the halls of the TVA."
"Well, I was," Loki snapped, staring up at the ceiling. He realized how foolish he sounded, but at that point, he didn't care.
"Loki, what happened on that mission?" Mobius asked gently, ignoring the other's outburst. Loki sighed a bit, trying to shift his position.
"I didn't-" he cut himself off with a wince as he moved wrong, the pain burning at first, then turning into a dull ache. Mobius looked down at him worriedly.
"I didn't think it was that bad," he said hurriedly. "I was so cold from the water I didn't feel it. I just assumed the blood hadn't been mine."
It was grim. The idea of the blood in the water was so common for that moment, so anticipated that he had nearly bled out yet speculated it was from somebody else. It brought into focus the severity of even human apocalypses.
"But the blood," Mobius said, frowning. "I should have been able to see it on your shirt when we got back. I didn't see any."
"My magic had healed it for the most part," Loki said. "Just not enough. Once I returned it must've begun to reverse."
As Loki spoke, he noticed Mobius reaching for the hem of his shirt. He quickly blocked his hand with an offended "Hey." Mobius chuckled, shaking his head.
"I'm just trying to see it, come on."
"You don't need to," Loki glared. But of course his efforts didn't deter Mobius, who kept his steady gaze.
"Loki," he said gently. "Come on, let me see."
Loki sighed, wordlessly lifting the hem of his shirt to reveal the array of wounds, accented by the much larger wound that ran across the bottom of his abdomen. He heard Mobius's breath catch.
"Geez..." He murmured, gently brushing a finger across the uninjured skin, which even then was sore.
"Why didn't you say anything?" He asked sadly. Loki cast his eyes to the side.
"An unspoken rule amongst warriors in Asgard was to each their own. It wasn't uncommon to receive wounds in battle, it was seen as noble to keep them to yourself."
"Well, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Mobius said with raised eyebrows. He added a hasty, "No offense."
"No, I agree. They were all morons," he said lightheartedly.
Mobius laughed now, bowing his head as he did so. Loki smiled a bit, still somewhat troubled by the pain but not enough to mention it.
"This is your apartment, then?" He said, trying to initiate conversation so Mobius wouldn't see as he began to sit up.
"Hey, not so fast," Mobius said, placing a hand on the small of Loki's back. "Your powers may be back, but you have a ways to go."
"I'm alright, really."
"I'm beginning to think that phrase holds less ethos each time I hear it."
Loki huffed, barely managing to sit all the way up. He looked around the room as his eyes adjusted. It was a small apartment, most of his items being placed in the living area. Books, dusty empty bottles, wooden furniture accented with water stains and loose change. The carpet was plush, he noticed, like something you would see from the nineties. It was all very cozy and welcoming.
"Sorry about the mess," he said, assuming that's what Loki had been looking at. "I didn't really have time to clean."
"Mess?" Loki frowned. "Mobius, you bring me into your home and you really assume I'm going to judge the state of it?"
"Well, to be fair, I don't get a lot of visitors," he smiled. "Now you need some rest, alright?"
If Loki had just an ounce more strength, he would've shot back some snarky response. This time, however, he found himself too tired to think of one, so instead, he flashed a quick smile.
"I'll be here if you need me."
If you need me.
Loki pondered on the words for a while. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the weariness finally catching up with him. Before he never would have admitted he need someone, much less someone with no relation to him. But in that darkened room he gathered he had a change of heart. As he felt himself slowly fading into the warm embrace of sleep, he felt a hand run across his head, gently brushing his unkempt hair back in a stroking motion. He wanted to open his eyes, to see Mobius, but he stayed still just long enough to hear the words,
"Glad you're alright, Lokes."
Before contently falling asleep.