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"Hand them over, Loki."
"Seriously? This is prisoner abuse," Loki complained. "You would have me walk down these halls defenceless?”
Mobius tossed the confiscated daggers into his locker. "Maybe you should have hidden them better."
"If I had my magic, I could have," Loki muttered. "These things are sharp, you know."
“Look, I’m just trying to protect you here. One more report from Hunter B-15 citing possession of a deadly weapon and you’re gone.”
“I bet you’re thinking good riddance,” Loki said darkly.
“I am?” Mobius asked absently, putting on his jacket over his tactical vest.
“Nobody likes me,” Loki said. “Except you.”
“After centuries of being a pain in everyone’s ass, now you start caring about being liked? I don’t buy it.”
“Two things that make people think twice about killing you. The weapons you possess, and their affection for you.”
“And you’re speaking from experience,” Mobius guessed.
“Precisely.”
“I wouldn’t worry,” Mobius said placatingly. “Everything is a potential weapon in your hands. Roombas, shoes. Pickles.”
“I hate pickles,” Loki said flatly. “They give me hives.”
And just in case Loki thought Mobius was not being attentive, or worse, not reciprocating,
“I like you,” Mobius reassured him.
Loki still appeared sceptical, so Mobius looked left and right - no bystanders - and pulled Loki in by the tie.
Mobius kissed him once (for the journey) and kissed him again (for good luck, as they say), for they were going to need all the luck they could get for this mission. “I like you very, very much.”
The mission was a bust.
Evil Loki Variant (or ELV as Mobius had come to call them, for lack of a better name) had eluded them once again, this time by leading them on a wild goose chase that took them all the way back to fourteenth-century London to the turbulent times of the Peasants’ Revolt.
“Maybe we should have just stayed a bit longer,” Loki muttered.
Mobius patted his back. “That’s what you always say."
“A shame you don’t always listen," Loki said.
Mobius stopped in his tracks. “Wait. You said you didn’t like meddling with Earth’s affairs.”
“I didn’t.”
“You said that was Thor’s thing.”
“It was.”
“You have a soft spot for boy-kings. I can tell.”
Mobius' probing gaze was too penetrating so Loki hunched into his jacket and sped up his pace. “Richard II wasn’t the greatest, but he certainly wasn’t the worst of all the Plantagenets."
"No changing the past, Loki, you know the rules."
But Loki was clearly not listening, his sullen mutter only a few octaves above audible. "He was born to rule. He simply lacked support, and good men by his side.”
“You need to stop seeing yourself in other people, Loki.”
“Oh, is that what you think I’m doing?”
“How many coup d’etats have I taken you to so far? And how many have you nearly botched and almost changed the course of history forever?”
“Why, I would never do something like that!”
“1455. The seventh king of the Joseon dynasty, King Sejo. He was the second prince, wasn’t he?”
Loki’s expression remained carefully neutral. “What of him?”
“He forced his nephew to abdicate after the death of the King,” Mobius recalled. “After which he had his younger brother executed to consolidate power.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“You wanted to save Prince Anpyong, and when I said no, you sulked for three days straight.”
“No, I sulked because you didn’t take the pickles out of my burger.”
“I did take them out.”
“You took them out after, ” Loki growled. “The pickle juice made my lips swell up.”
“Poor baby.” Mobius forced Loki’s head onto his shoulder. “You have a good heart, Loki.”
Loki gave an embarrassed snort. “Tell that to your friend Ravonna. She’s going to blame me for letting the Variant escape.”
“No, she’s not.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because she was the one who let the Variant escape in the first place, back when she was a Hunter.”
Loki let out a scandalous gasp, “No.”
“Oh, yes.”
The look of astonishment on Loki’s face quickly turned to one of wondrous awe.
Mobius laughed. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“What is it?” Mobius urged. “If you don’t tell, I’m going to have to tickle you until you do.”
“Oh, shit,” Loki deadpanned. He bit the inside of his lip. “That was a big secret you just told me, wasn’t it.”
Mobius was quiet. “The biggest.”
“You shouldn’t trust me,” Loki said.
“I shouldn’t,” Mobius agreed. “But I do.”
“It’s going to be the death of you.”
Mobius shrugged. “We can’t all live forever.”
“No,” Loki sighed heavily, and reinstated his head in the crook of Mobius’ neck. “Guess we can’t.”
Another morning, another fruitless strategy meeting (aka another bollocking from Judge Ravonna Renslayer) and Mobius was starting to feel he was being stretched too thin.
A hand caught him by the elbow.
Mobius turned and his smile vanished when he saw who it was not.
"You have been spending a lot of time together."
Mobius knew exactly who D-90 was talking about. They had had this argument before, after all, only worded differently.
"It's only necessary,” Mobius said coolly. “Loki’s under my supervision."
The churlish curl of D-90’s lips flattened to a line. Through gritted teeth, "Why him?"
Mobius frowned. "What do you mean?"
"This is not your first Loki. Why is this one your favourite?"
"I am not discussing this. There is no reason why I should," Mobius stressed. "It's over between us."
"It's not over until I say it is."
Mobius blanched. "Excuse me?"
"I know you still have feelings for me."
"Unbelievable," Mobius muttered under his breath and would have walked away had a sudden hand not clamped around his arm.
"Let go of me," Mobius said.
"After everything I have done for you," D-90 hissed, "And you replace me with him?"
“You are out of line, D-90,” Mobius said stiffly, hoping his voice did not sound as strangled as he felt. “Clock's ticking. Get back to work.”
An ugly smirk. “What are you gonna do? Report me?”
Mobius stared at him down the line of his nose. “Don’t you remember what happened the last time you dared me to?”
With the wavering of D-90’s bravado, Mobius’ sense of professionalism returned. There was no sense in making a scene when there was a dangerous Variant at large.
"For all time."
D-90’s hard, handsome face smoothened into a blank canvas. "Always."
The two places Loki was allowed unsupervised access were the cafeteria and the library; he was heading toward the latter to follow up on a hunch, when he felt a hostile presence approach him from behind.
"You're becoming an eyesore, Variant."
Loki rolled his eyes. So much for a peaceful afternoon of reading. "Well, hello to you too."
“You think you’re very important, don’t you?”
Loki raised his eyebrows. “Clearly you do. Accosting me in broad daylight when I was just minding my own business. Your business, if I might add.”
"You're certainly taking your sweet time with it," D-90 said. "Don't you think it's time you earn your keep? You can't hide behind your handler forever."
"My...handler?"
"Don't you ever wonder what he sees in you?" D-90 taunted. "I know I do."
With a coquettish tilt of the head, Loki whispered loudly, "Do you hear that? That is the sound of me not caring."
“You’re not special,” D-90 ranted, his face darkening. "You're a pest."
"Is this what the TVA's come to? Name-calling?" Loki tsk-tsked with a conspiratorial wink. "Don't worry. I'll always be nice to you, sweetheart."
And suddenly Loki found himself trussed up against the wall by a fist in his collar.
"All your charms may have worked on Mobius but they don't work on me," D-90 jeered. "One wrong move, and I'll personally put you down."
"Careful there," Loki smirked. "Word of advice? Don’t come off too eager, it's really unattractive - "
The back of his head slammed into the wall and for a moment, Loki saw stars.
"You don't belong here. Never have, never will. You would do well to remember that," D-90 snarled. "Variant."
"The name is Loki."
A sneer. "I don't care."
"Oh, I think you do," Loki said dangerously. "You're right. The TVA is hardly a place for one like me, but you're wondering why I'm still around. You're dying to know what my motives are for staying but you can't ask, not without revealing a part of your sorry, pathetic self - "
He thrust his face until their noses almost touched. “And you can't take it.”
"You just don't stop talking, do you?"
"Depends. Did I miss anything?" Loki asked sweetly.
"This up close? I sure as hell won't!" D-90 cocked back an arm for a devastating punch, but a sharp voice thundered from down the hallway.
"D-90!"
“This is not the end!” D-90 gave Loki’s chest one last shove, before he stormed off in a cloud of black rage.
Loki gripped the metal frame of the lockers as he paced his breathing to get it under control. He was used to being manhandled, having been raised alongside Thor and his raucous friends, but the amount of self-control this abominable place was asking of him was colossal.
Pulled in by her gaze, Loki raised his head slowly to meet Hunter B-15's eyes.
She was only a few feet away so Loki could not have imagined the glimmer of sympathy in them, could he? But imagination or not, when she next spoke, there was only disdain in its place.
"Are you lost, Variant?" she asked. "I can show you the way to the cells if you want."
“How very kind,” Loki said scathingly. “The TVA and their exemplary hospitality, there’s no place like it.”
Loki abruptly turned and made a mad dash for the quarters lest the bloodlust within him erupted, nulling his efforts and all he had built here.
Mobius. He needed to get to Mobius.
"Loki." A hand stroked his thigh through the covers gently. “Earth to Loki.”
"Sorry, did you say something?"
“That took a while,” Mobius teased. "Is everything okay?"
"Of course,” Loki said. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Mobius contemplated saying he had studied enough Lokis in his lifetime that he could read his lover like a book, but that would be suicide, wouldn’t it?
“You just look like you’re a thousand miles away,” he said finally.
Loki took his time pushing himself up into a sitting position. He leaned against the bedhead and studied his companion intently. “Why do you keep me?”
Mobius blinked. “I’m sorry?”
"You heard me."
"You're not a pet, Loki."
"That’s funny seeing how you called me a pussycat the day we met."
"Did I? I don't remember."
"Little pussycat too, which was hardly necessary - "
Mobius groaned and tried to engulf Loki in his arms to shut him up, but Loki's monologue picked up where it left off like the intermission did not happen. “It’s not for moral support, I don’t think. I’m hardly the most inspiring person to be around.”
“You’d be surprised,” Mobius murmured.
“If I’m not a pet, what am I?” Loki pressed. “A trophy?”
“I’m not a Hunter, Loki. I don’t keep trophies.”
But the troubled look in Loki’s eyes only deepened.
"Has someone said anything to you?"
“Was that what you were?” Loki asked quietly. “D-90’s trophy?”
“That is all in the past,” Mobius said calmly. “We all have our history.”
"There's nothing shameful about it. It doesn't mean I think less of you," Loki said. "I was Odin's war trophy, after all."
"I am not Odin," Mobius said darkly. "I have no ulterior motive."
But when an idea had gotten hold of Loki, there was no letting it go.
"So what is it then?" Loki pressed.
Appealing to Loki's sense of self-preservation never worked, so Mobius decided to have a go at vanity. "You mean besides your impossibly long legs? You drool when you sleep. It's very endearing."
"Mobius."
"Loki," Mobius countered in the same warning tone.
"Stop it."
"You stop."
Loki finally relented, sighing in resignation. "Guess I'm just nervous."
"Loki of Asgard, nervous? That's a first."
Loki made an unintelligible noise and Mobius unthinkingly began rubbing his hand in between the two shoulder blades, “That bad feeling still bugging you, huh?"
“Between the witch trials and the Spanish Inquisition? I’ll take the Spanish Inquisition anytime,” Loki said glumly.
“It’ll just be an in and out extraction,” Mobius said, admiring the sleek lines of Loki’s well-defined back while fretting at the same time at how tense it felt. “I know I said you’d only be consulting on capturing EVL, but I feel like we can really use your help with this one.”
“Can’t you just leave the poor girl alone?” Loki asked exasperatedly. “Escaping Salem was a feat in itself without you lot raining on her parade.”
“Would it make you feel better to know that she's an actual witch, not just someone who's been wrongly persecuted in times of mass panic and hysteria?”
"Well, it's obvious, isn't it? How could she have time-walked otherwise?" Loki muttered. “Of all the places she could have jumped to, she had to choose seventeenth-century Basque.”
“Last location we have of her is Zugarramurdi in Navarre.”
“Must be heading for the Caverna de las Brujas.”
“The Cave of the Witches, yes.”
“You know what lives in caves? Bats, spiders, scorpions, spider-scorpions - “ Loki ticked off his list of wildly dangerous cave creatures, “And let us not forget the olms.”
“OIms?”
“White dragons,” Loki said dramatically. “And get this, they don’t have eyes.”
“They’re cave-dwellers, of course they don’t. Who needs eyesight when you live in total darkness?”
Loki rolled his eyes. Of course Mobius would not question the existence of dragons, only the redundancy of eyes.
He flipped over, fully intent to bargain with the most infuriatingly logical man he had ever had the fortune of meeting; he might just get lucky.
Loki traced the line of Mobius’ moustache with his thumb. He liked the feel of it on his fingers, just as much as he liked it on his face. “Know what I need? A pay rise.”
“How about we start small?” Mobius whispered. “How about I give you your daggers?”
Loki felt his lips give in to the curve of Mobius’ smile. “Now you’re talking.”
Logroño, 1609
From the castle keep, Loki admired the commanding view of the fertile plain below: El Valle de la Sangre, or the Valley of the Blood, it was once called. There was a time when Odin would regale him with glorious tales of battles fought in faraway places all over the Nine Realms; this was such a place.
He turned his face westward, basking in the tail-ends of the day's warmth.
In the setting sun, the ancient hilltop village became a play of light and shade. The minarets, a legacy left behind by the Moors, gleamed with an ominous golden glow, and reminiscent of the lost glory were cubic, whitewashed houses arranged in tight, white rows, the terracotta of their pantile roofs glistening with the patina of age and weather.
But the most telling relic of all was the labyrinthine design of the streets. Narrow and winding, it was obviously designed to confuse anyone who was not a local. The series of sunken, vaulted passageways leading to the Keep further deepened the air of mystery around the citadel.
Loki wondered why Mobius had chosen to disembark here, of all places.
"We should spread out," Hunter B-15 said.
“I don’t know if that’s wise,” Mobius said. “The mob will be here any minute, and we don’t want to get caught in the pandemonium.”
“All the more reason we need to split up, we'd cover more ground that way. Variant, you go with D-90,” Hunter B-15 ordered. “Mobius, take C-30. The rest of you, come with me.”
Mobius opened his mouth to protest, but B-15 cut him off before he could get a word in. “Time is of the essence here, Mobius. I don’t need the two of you getting distracted and jeopardising the mission.”
Mobius and Loki’s eyes met across the landing.
“Aww. Look at the two lovebirds,” Hunter D-90 taunted. “Can’t leave each other’s sight for one minute.”
Loki bristled.
“ 'Down to Gehenna or up to the Throne, He travels the fastest who travels alone',” he growled. “You can all sit tight and wait. I will extract your witch.”
“Dream on, Variant," D-90 chortled loudly.
B-15 huffed. “Does this need to be a problem, Mobius?”
But it was the God of Mischief who answered, for did they think Loki of Asgard would quake in his boots?
“No.” Loki made sure to put on the biggest smile they had ever seen him wear. “Absolutely no problem at all.”
The silence was uncomfortable and far from companionable, but for better or worse, it did not last for long.
No sooner had the abandoned well where Loki suspected the Time Witch may be hiding come into view than the surly Hunter attempted to lure him into the realm of conversation.
“Clever words. Did you get that off the back of a milk carton?”
“It’s Rudyard Kipling, you uncultured swine,” Loki muttered under his breath. He really was not looking forward to another round of fisticuffs with the Hunter, but in hindsight, maybe he should have kept his mouth shut when the man suddenly stopped in his tracks.
“What did you say?” D-90 said, his tone taking on a dangerous edge. “Face me, and say it again.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Loki retorted, before ducking his head under the low arch of the passage that opened onto the yard, unthinkingly exposing his back.
He realised his mistake too late when he heard the cracking sound of the charging handle, saw the shadow of D-90 cocking his rifle back, and felt the fire-hot wind of the blast sear his cheek.
Loki rolled on the ground toward a nearby shrub for cover and a quick breath, before he emerged, brandishing his daggers, ready for the next attack.
He deftly deflected blast after blast, hoping to advance close enough to gain the upper hand, but in the end, it was a gamble lost. D-90's deadly aim caught Loki right in the wrists, first the right, then the left.
But even as his daggers clattered uselessly to the ground, Loki was already pouncing. He wrestled with D-90 for the rifle, but the struggle angered the Hunter further.
A guttural roar preceded a hail of laser blasts that gouged the stone walls, showering them in debris. By a stroke of bad luck, a stone the size of a boulder fell and struck Loki in the side of the head, stunning him momentarily.
The split-second of distraction was all D-90 needed; he slammed the butt of his rifle into Loki’s temple where the rock had struck.
Loki reeled from the explosion of pain bursting behind his eyes. Blood and stars flooded his vision.
"It's not enough that we're carting your ass around, now we have to listen to you too?"
Loki coughed into the sand. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb with me," D-90 raged. "We could have gone to the Caves and be out of here in five minutes, but no, Loki thinks it's not a good idea and of course we all have to do what Loki says, don't we?"
A fist to the stomach robbed Loki of all breath, and he both felt and heard his knees slam onto the cobblestone floor. He had barely broken his fall before his assailant hauled him off the floor again, this time by the neck.
"You've enchanted him, haven't you? What else have you got him do, huh?" D-90 shouted. "Since we're burning witches today, what's one more, right?"
A familiar noose wrapped around Loki's neck and he spluttered, but the more Loki struggled, the more the Time Collar tightened around his throat.
“You are moving at 1/16th speed,” Loki heard D-90 whisper as he gagged, “But feeling all this in real time.”
The man was unforgivably close, his breath putrid in Loki’s ear, but he was powerless, his fingers clawing uselessly at the collar.
A rough shove in the back, and Loki tumbled head first into the well.
"Come on, Loki…" Mobius scanned the horizon for the hundredth time. "Any sign of them?"
"Negative," B-15 said, shaking her head. She was growing tired of holding down their captive who would not stop struggling despite the collar. "We have our Witch, it's time to move out."
"Not without Loki."
"D-90 has a TemPad," B-15 pointed out.
One could misconstrue the glance he gave her as a dubious glare, but Mobius was nothing if not professional. "Let's give them a few minutes."
"Someone's coming," a Minuteman said abruptly.
D-90 appeared from around the shadows shrouding a corner of the castle, looking worse for wear.
“What happened?” B-15 asked in alarm.
"He escaped.” D-90 looked pointedly at Mobius. “Your Variant."
“I told you it was only a matter of time before he betrayed us,” B-15 lambasted. “You can never trust a Loki, haven’t you learned this by now?”
“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Mobius protested, prepared to defend his blind faith in Loki when he caught sight of something that made his blood run cold. "Why do you have that?"
“Have what?”
"That." Mobius pointed at D-90's waistband. He would recognise the hilt of Loki's dagger anywhere. "That isn't yours."
“I picked it up off the ground. He must have dropped it when he left.”
D-90 was as stone-faced as always, but Mobius was not born yesterday, and right now the man stank of a lie.
"Bullshit. Where is Loki?" Mobius demanded. "What have you done to him?"
D-90 remained stubbornly silent.
Mobius looked beyond D-90’s shoulders where the narrow street whence he came wrapped around the hill and led to the back of the castle.
A gust of wind blew through his hair, bringing with it the unmistakable scent of danger.
And he began to run.
"Mobius!"
The roaring in his ears drowned out the sound of B-15’s shout. They could leave him here for all he cared, for there was only one thing, one person on his mind.
Loki.
Please be okay, Mobius prayed.
"He escaped, just like D-90 said,” B-15 said.
Ignoring her, Mobius looked at the surroundings for clues. If there had been a struggle, Loki would not have gone down without a fight.
True enough, on the underside of the arch, was a telltale scorch mark. There were obvious signs of a scuffle on the ground, and Mobius followed the drag marks to where they ended near a well.
“Mobius, the mob will be here any minute," B-15 said tersely. "Not to mention that we're three units away from the redline. We don't even know if Loki is down there."
Mobius stared into the depth of the well, its gaping maw dark and menacing.
"Is he down there?" he demanded. When D-90 did not answer, Mobius grabbed the front of his Hunter's uniform. "Did you push him in there?"
D-90 remained silent, the horrible, dark truth evident in his cold, remorseless eyes.
Mobius started peeling off his jacket but a hand caught the bend of his elbow.
"Are you seriously willing to risk your life for a Variant?" D-90 hissed.
Mobius wrenched his arm free.
"I'll take my chances," he growled.
Mobius fastened a climbing rope around his waist, and nodded at B-15. "I'm ready."
He had no choice but to put his trust in B-15 to be his belayer; there should be enough bad blood between her and Ravonna that there would be some painful explaining she would loathe to have to do, should she choose to leave him stranded out here.
"Make it quick," she urged.
Mobius made his descent into the cold, dark well. The seconds passed agonisingly slowly as B-15 lowered him inch by inch, and just when Mobius thought he was never going to get to the bottom, he saw him.
His heart jolted to his throat. “Loki!”
Mobius released the rope and let himself fall the last few feet, landing with a splash. He could not wade through the waist-deep water fast enough toward where Loki lay half-submerged at the bottom of the well, his neck bent at an awkward angle.
The last of the sun cast its light on a face as white as a corpse, one half dark with what could only be blood.
“No,” Mobius whispered, “No, no, no - ”
He grasped Loki’s shoulders and tried to shake him awake, but Loki’s head only lolled lifelessly. His lips, warm and pink just this morning, were now tinged with blue.
“I need some help down here!”
"So he lives. Your favourite Loki."
As much as it pained Mobius to tear his eyes away from the crowd of doctors working on Loki in the middle of the room, the sight of D-90’s reflection in the glass was enough to make Mobius want to punch a fist through it.
So despite the chills running down his spine at the sound of D-90's voice, Mobius turned to face the bastard. Once he had collected just enough composure to keep his voice from shaking, "How are you not under arrest? You attempted murder.”
D-90 gave a nonchalant shrug. “Of a Variant slated to be deleted anyway once he has outlived his usefulness.”
“So they’re nothing but cockroaches to you, huh?”
“They were once cockroaches in your eyes too, Mobius,” D-90 said. “You were no more merciful toward them than I was. What changed?”
"Was I a cockroach too?"
D-90's eyes narrowed. "I don't follow."
"You left me for dead."
"I did not think you would live. It was a regrettable decision."
The tingling sensation disappeared, only to be replaced by an all-consuming anger that had Mobius shaking. “We will not cross paths. We will not talk to each other. You do not exist.”
“Was it all bad, Mobius?” D-90 asked. “What we had, was any part of it good?”
There was no sadness, no shred of regret in the Hunter's earnest question, only injured pride.
“Nope,” Mobius said. “Not a single thing.”
“We meant something to each other,” D-90 said, but the entreaty came entire timelines too late.
“No,” Mobius said calmly. “I never did.”
And with that, he walked away.
Relying on time to heal his body without magic was a torturous endeavour. Mobius was a constant presence, and as much as he appreciated it, Loki had to admit he was growing weary and insatiably restless.
“When can I get out of here?”
“It’s only been a day, Loki,” Mobius said gently as Loki paced around the room on his crutches. He struggled to understand why Loki could not take things easy for once. “Will you please take it easy? Come lie down."
"Mobius, I am not dying. I simply have a concussion."
"And a broken ankle, as well as three cracked ribs. But who's counting, right?"
"Like I haven't had worse," Loki said with a roll of his eyes. He stopped pacing and lowered himself gingerly onto the bed. "But seriously, I'm fine."
"Except for the headaches."
"Which have mostly gone now." Loki gestured at the thermostat. "The cold's helping."
Mobius shivered. “It must be at least thirty degrees in here."
“The Healer says that is the optimum temperature for my convalescence, I’m afraid,” Loki said apologetically.
“And they also said to keep the nausea at bay by eating, so as per instructions…” Mobius produced a plate from behind him. “Plain cheeseburger.”
Loki peered at it suspiciously. “No pickles?”
“No pickles. No frills.”
Mobius watched Loki pick through the trimmings with the enthusiasm of a five-year-old off his food.
“I can get you something else?” Mobius offered. “A salad, maybe?”
Loki shot him a look of pure disgust. “A salad? Do you intend to keep me here for longer?”
“As long as it takes,” Mobius said. “Your injuries were quite serious."
“Mobius, stop it,” Loki sighed. “I am hale.”
“I don’t believe you,” Mobius said bluntly.
Loki’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry?”
“God or not, you’re flesh and blood, just like me,” Mobius said, his face ashen. “You can be killed.”
“It’s going to take a lot more than a haunted well to kill me.”
“Maybe. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”
“Hurt is a transient state of being.” A distant look cascaded over Loki’s eyes. “It was the falling that I thought was never going to end.”
“Shit.” Mobius rubbed a hand over his face. “I am so, sorry Loki.”
Loki shrugged and said nothing.
“D-90’s still a free man," Mobius said tightly. He thought it best to get it out of the way, the breaking of bad news.
"Are you relieved?" Loki asked.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You were together, weren't you?"
"I don't know if together is the right word…"
"To him you were. He wanted you back quite badly,” Loki said lightly. At Mobius' sharp look, he gestured at his casted leg. "There's your proof."
"I'm sorry, Loki. I didn't mean for you to get hurt."
"You didn't do this, Mobius," Loki said. "I let my guard down. Don't apologise on somebody else's behalf."
“You should have told me, Loki,” Mobius said, his eyes deep wells of regret. “If I had known I could have put my foot down. I wouldn’t have let you go anywhere with him.”
“Told you what?”
“B-15 told me she caught you and D-90 arguing in the hallway,” Mobius said.
“And yet she set me up for the slaughter,” Loki sighed. “That’s all very sweet Mobius, but I am under no illusion that anyone here is on my side.”
“I am,” Mobius said furiously. “I can protect you.”
“Thank you, but I can take care of myself.”
“So why didn’t you?” Mobius demanded. “You had your magic. You were at your full strength. Why did you let him hurt you?”
“Sometimes you have to know when to fight and when not to fight,” Loki said quietly. “Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is not fight at all.”
Mobius’ mouth fell open. “What were you trying to prove?”
“Nothing,” Loki said. As sincere as it may be, there was a sadness lurking beneath his mysterious smile. “Except that maybe I wanted to stay here a bit longer.”
The revelation stunned Mobius and he could not help playing out the scenarios in his head: if Loki had fought back and subdued D-90, even if Loki had spared D-90's life, a pruning would have been inevitable.
“You would have let him kill you?” Mobius asked incredulously.
Loki shook his head and only smiled patiently. “Think deeper. Think simpler.”
With all the evidence pointing to D-90 initiating the assault and causing grievous injury to a prisoner, corroborated by B-15’s testimony of what she had witnessed in the hallway, Judge Renslayer had had no choice but to transfer D-90 to another unit.
“He’s not going to bother you anymore,” Loki said.
“Oh, you mischievous scamp." Mobius pressed his fist to his mouth. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I was governed by purely selfish reasons,” Loki demurred. "I can't have your former lover breathing down your neck and watching our every move. You might have a change of heart."
The tightness in Mobius’ chest worsened. "I am never going back to him, Loki."
"One always goes back for the familiar."
Mobius shook his head vehemently. "Not after what he did."
“Mobius, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
But Mobius had kept the secret to himself for too long. "We were teammates. He was my Hunter, I was his Analyst. One day we were assigned to retrieve a Variant from from Holy Island, you ever heard of it?"
"The Holy Island of Lindisfarne?" Loki's forehead furrowed. "Of course. The Vikings built a priory there sometime after Father took Midgard under his rule. It is very well known for mead."
But Mobius shared none of Loki's light-hearted nostalgia. "So you know the island can only be accessed when the tide is low?"
"I am aware, yes," Loki said, becoming more wary by the second.
"The lord of the Castle at the time mistook us for Norman invaders and drove us out of the island. D-90 made it back onto the mainland, but I had only gone half the way when the tide came rushing in."
"I called and called, until I grew weak and sank into the water.” Mobius closed his eyes as the painful memory resurfaced. “He only stood there…watching.”
"How did you survive?"
"I was closer to the island, so I swam back with what little strength I had under the cover of the darkness, hoping to find somewhere to hide," Mobius said. "I found a cave in the rocks."
Loki reared his head.
"So now you know my second biggest fear,” Mobius confessed, braving a smile. It wavered at the peculiar look on Loki’s face. “What?”
“You never told him about the cave?” Loki queried. “Of how you survived?”
Mobius shrugged. “He never asked.”
Loki stared at his lover for a very, very long time. In the end, he reached out and pulled the smaller man into an embrace. “I’m so sorry, Mobius.”
Mobius sniffed. “It would have been a bad idea to storm the Cave anyway, not when there’s a whole coven of witches and only one of you.”
“I can take down witches,” Loki said stubbornly. “I have taken down many witches.”
“Sure,” Mobius acceded. “But I wasn’t going to take any chances.”
Loki tried hard not to smile. “You spoil me, Mobius.”
“Told you I will protect you,” Mobius murmured.
Loki's eyes shone. “And you did. You came back for me.”
“I will always come back for you."
"You like me that much, huh?"
"That, and my number one biggest fear. And before you ask me what it is...” Mobius cupped Loki’s face gently. “It’s losing you.”
There it was again, an imperceptible spasm in the dimples of Loki’s temples.
“What is it, Loki?” Mobius asked.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this about anyone,” Loki murmured. “You are very kind.”
“Don’t. Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Put me on a pedestal just because you think I’m kind.”
“But you are - ” Loki protested, but Mobius hushed him with a look.
“And I’m not saying this because I’m your friend. You deserve to be treated with respect, not just by me. You deserve kindness, in every relationship. In any relationship.”
“Is that all I am, a friend?”
“I would have said soulmate, but you’d only make fun of me.”
Loki fought to control his emotions, but tears sprung to his eyes. “That’s…that is so cheesy, Mobius.”
Mobius groaned, and would have covered his face had Loki not gotten to it first, dotting it all over with kisses as soft as feathers.
"I mean, enemies to friends to soulmates?" Loki whispered. “Thor would never let me live it down.”
“Thor who?” Mobius asked innocently.
Predictably, Loki laughed, his smile lines soft and joyous, his tears all but dried up. Mobius could not not kiss him now, could he?
And kiss him he did, to both their hearts’ content.