Chapter Text
It wasn’t something they had planned. As destruction rained down all around them, literally, Loki and Sylvie had embraced each other and prepared for the end. Then something had happened. Loki couldn’t be sure if it was her magic, his, or a combination of both, but their souls began to meet where their bodies originally stopped, eventually fading all physical lines between them. She was him and he was her and their hearts and minds were completely open to each other. It was a purely spiritual experience and if this was to be their afterlife, Loki would have been okay with it.
Loki thought briefly of his children, wondering what would become of them in the “Sacred” Timeline and he felt a pang of sadness from Sylvie. Following it, he found she had no children of her own…no, that wasn’t quite right. No living children. They had all perished before birth, sometimes too early for her to get attached…but other times, late enough that she had been forced to bring them into the world, knowing she would never hear their first cries. It broke his heart, especially since he’d carried two of his own children and knew what that bond felt like. He didn’t love the others any less, but there was something special about that connection.
And what was this? The tiniest spark of life…and her surprise as he noticed it, which quickly changed to wary sadness. She was expecting again, so early she hadn’t known. She’d put up magical defenses to stop conception when she realized she had been born with a physical quirk, not uncommon among Jotun women, that didn’t allow her to carry a child to term. The errant gene would always sense the child as a parasite and attack it, sooner or later. This new child didn’t have a chance. However the conception had happened, whether her spells had slipped or fate had taken its course, she was destined to lose them too. If her mother (her, it was a girl) somehow survived, which seemed increasingly unlikely.
Lokis always lose…even if we live, I’ll lose her…and if I didn’t somehow, this is the worst possible time. I’m so close to destroying the TVA… Sylvie’s conflicted emotions surged and Loki felt them as if they were his own. He held her closer, unsure if he was doing so physically but knowing he could mentally.
Do you want this?
No. Yes. Sylvie sighed. It’s complicated. There’s nothing that can be done. The others, they were attacked by my body from the beginning. The damage can’t be stopped…it’s just how strong she – it – is, how long it might take. And we’re going to die anyway…
Probably. An idea occurred to him, one he hadn’t thought possible until they’d been one like this, occupying the same spot in space time, their energies entwined. Perhaps if I were to be the one…there would be a chance. Assuming we live.
No, I couldn’t ask that of you. The spark of hope that had flared at Loki’s suggestion was squashed as soon as it started. What’s going to happen will happen.
The last time nearly killed you, Loki realized, as she pushed memories away of almost bleeding out. What if the damage isn’t allowed to continue? Might that change things?
I couldn’t ask it, she repeated, but he could feel the longing within her for hope, something the circumstances of her life hadn’t afforded her. The father would have been Jotun; if she survives and is a typical size, it could be difficult… Neither one of them needed reminding that they were runts.
She. Sylvie had called the child “she” instead of correcting herself to “it” again. Loki chuckled to himself, knowing she would feel it. I’ve birthed an eight-legged horse. I can handle it. When Sylvie said nothing else, he reached for her heart; he would never proceed without her consent, but he wanted to give her some joy, if possible, to make up for the tragedies in her life. When he felt her silent nod, he reached for that tiny spark of life, binding their energies together and then releasing.
As their bodies took physical form again, Loki internally assessed himself. It had worked. That tiny spark was now within him. Not that it might matter for long if they didn’t pull off some last-minute plan as Lamentis fell around them.
A time door opened and Sylvie and Loki exchanged a look. It had to be the TVA and that meant capture, but capture meant the chance to escape. They had to take it – not only for the chance to finish their work, but for the precious cargo Loki was now carrying.
The cramping started almost as soon as Loki was in the Time Cell. He could hear Sif yelling for his blood, but she hadn’t appeared yet. From her words, he suspected he knew what was coming. This was the time he’d cut her hair as a prank, wasn’t it? It wasn’t a confrontation Loki wanted to have, particularly not while he was dealing with a potential miscarriage. Her kick would be aimed at his crotch, rather than his abdomen, so it wouldn’t have much effect on the situation, but was he literally about to get kicked while he was down?
It would have been lovely if things worked out, wouldn’t it? Sylvie had been right, he supposed, but he’d really wanted her to be wrong. The two of them were more like twins than clones and while using one’s sibling as a gestational surrogate was hardly common, it wasn’t unheard of. Despite the uncertainty of the future, Loki had started thinking it would be nice to have a niece, one whose existence he had a hand in. But it must not have been meant to be…
“You worm!” Sif snapped as she approached. “You – you’re bleeding.”
Loki blinked in surprise, realizing that the Time Cell must be programmed to have Sif act as she really would, not just a preset simulation. He looked down and was further dismayed to see that she was right. “Oh, yes. So I am.”
“Should I call a healer?”
Loki shook his head. Any healers that arrived wouldn’t be more than simulations themselves, he was sure, and there wasn’t much that could be done. “No, I doubt they could do anything. I believe I’m miscarrying.” His first child had been born a few years before; she wouldn’t be shocked by the revelation that he could bear children.
Sif frowned, her expression pained but sympathetic. Oh, damn, that was right; she’d lost a child herself. And not long before this incident, weeks at most. Loki hadn’t known about that at the time – he found out much later – but his trick had been even dirtier than he realized. “Would you like me to stay?”
Even if she wasn’t real, Loki found he didn’t want to be alone. “Only if you wish.” He winced, sitting down nearby and nodded gratefully as she joined him. “For what it’s worth…I’m sorry.”
Sif patted his shoulder briefly. “I’m still angry, but it would appear the fates have done more to you than I could. Certainly far more than you deserve for this slight.”
Loki groaned at a sharp cramp, searching for the child’s spark and finding it weaker than before. He nodded, his hands instinctively moving to cradle his abdomen. I’m sorry, little one. I tried. He didn’t have the option of a convenient Odinsleep to spare him the pain of this experience, but he was woozy from the sudden blood loss and didn’t fight to stay awake. When he came around, Sif was gone but a small bunch of handpicked lilies from the nearby garden sat in her place. Loki was touched by the gesture, but had little time to react to it before a time door opened.
“Loki!” Mobius’ voice was definitely alarmed as he rushed over. “Are you all – gods, I didn’t think she’d hurt you, I didn’t even want to put you here, I – ”
Loki held up a hand to stop the rambling. “I’m healing already.” He’d stopped bleeding and the pain was gone, at least. He didn’t reach for the child’s life force; he wasn’t emotionally ready for the nothingness he was sure would answer. “And it wasn’t Sif.”
Mobius frowned and Loki pretended not to notice the way his hand immediately went to Loki’s cheek. Truth be told, he craved the comfort. “Then what happened? You’re covered in blood.”
“I was carrying a child,” Loki confessed, “but it wasn’t to be.” To Mobius’ credit, he barely reacted to the first part – but, then, he had studied Loki’s history extensively.
“Oh…oh, wow, man.” Mobius frowned and his hand moved from Loki’s cheek, as if he realized what he was doing, to his arm. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”
“Yes…it does,” Loki agreed, but he appreciated the sympathy.
“It wasn’t…this, was it?” Mobius gestured around them with his free arm; his other hand was still on Loki’s arm.
Loki shook his head, moving his hand to rest over Mobius’. “No. I’m quite sure it would have happened anyway. It must have been the stress of Lamentis…or something wrong with the child.” He wasn’t quite ready to tell the whole story yet. He’d come to trust Mobius, despite his difficulty trusting anyone, but he was emotionally drained.
Mobius nodded. “Do you need help walking?”
“No…” Loki eased himself to his feet. He almost wished he were still in pain, perverse as that seemed…something physical to represent the loss he’d suffered. “But a shower and a change of clothes would be appreciated.”
Getting pruned was not pleasant, though it wasn’t the instant death Loki had anticipated. He wasn’t sure what he had expected the dissolution of his molecules to be, but…he’d been transported somewhere, rather than eliminated. Ruins smoked all around him and now three variations of himself and an alligator with horns were peering at him. He followed them, not having a better plan yet.
They were definitely Lokis, as he’d discovered – even the alligator, which was just strange – and they brought him back to their palace…or what passed for it. As Loki relaxed with them, trying to come up with a plan, he felt a flutter in his stomach…nerves, probably. The whole giant being trying to kill them was definitely a concern. But he couldn’t help but wonder…no. Even if, somehow, his recent miscarriage had only been a scare, it hadn’t been nearly long enough for the child to be big enough to feel her. He was only setting himself up for disappointment. Still, he closed his eyes for a moment and probed…and was met with the gentle energy he hadn’t expected to feel. “Oh, my.” But how had she grown enough to…? Oh, right. Time weirdness. “I suppose time moves differently here as well?”
The older version of himself in the gaudier outfit, the one they’d nicknamed Classic Loki, nodded. “Yes, we perceive it as slower. Hours here can be weeks elsewhere. Or, I suppose, minutes somewhere else. But, for the most part, slower.” He studied Loki for a long moment. “Oh, shit, that’s why you’re asking.”
Loki wasn’t so used to being seen through so quickly. He looked down at himself – his real self – and saw that his waist was slightly more swollen than it had been when he arrived. But how had the other Loki seen…? His glamour automatically covered unintentional shifts in his appearance that weren’t related to injury. “Are you able to see through my illusions?”
“Not without physical contact,” Classic Loki said, “but you have two life signatures – your own, and the other. How far?”
“Only a few weeks,” Loki said, “at least when I arrived here. But…if hours are weeks and I’ve already been here a few hours…”
Classic Loki nodded. “The child will grow at the rate of time from which it came, not what we perceive.”
Loki groaned. “At this rate, I’ll be at term by morning.”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Classic Loki agreed.
Kid Loki sat forward, setting his Ecto Cooler down. “Wait, he’s pregnant?”
The boy certainly looked younger than Loki had been when he found out he could bear children…but he had been around a lot of Lokis. “Yes.” Loki rubbed his stomach as the baby squirmed. As delighted as he was to discover she’d survived, he hadn’t had time to mentally process everything…and this was not somewhere he wanted to give birth or try to care for a newborn. “So, clearly, I need to take the time I have left before things get even more awkward and get out of here.”
“Back to your precious TVA?” the one they called Boastful Loki – for good reason – scoffed. “As if they’d let you keep your child.”
“Well, Odin wasn’t particularly great about that either, and they’re much easier to fool than him.” Yes, keep things flippant in true Loki style…even if the others would see through it.
Classic Loki studied Loki for a long moment. “Normally that would be your own business – certainly, I’m not one to judge, given my own adventures – but, under the circumstances, I’m curious as to who this child’s sire is.”
“A Jotun,” Loki replied. “That’s all I know…I didn’t probe for more. I’m actually the surrogate for this one…it’s a long story.”
“Well, we are the God of Stories,” Kid Loki said, sitting back again with his juice box. “So if it’s not you, who’s the mother?”
“Another of us,” Loki replied. “A lady version, not that our presentation really matters for reproductive purposes. We…merged. Body, mind, soul…”
Classic Loki nearly choked on his wine. “You managed a fusion with another Loki?”
“Is this a known thing?” Loki asked in return. “It’s never happened to me before with anyone else.”
“I’ve only heard rumors,” Classic Loki replied. “Such a thing is possible with two powerful magic users who share a bond, but I’ve never experienced it and I haven’t met any of us who have. Now…tell me more.”