Work Text:
Time was ticking.
Maybe not in the TVA, but in the thumping of their hearts as they collectively shared the distress of the possible end of everything that they held dear. Leaving the others to address the prototype that could potentially save the lives of everyone, the group of demigods and the analyst headed towards the elevators, putting needed space between them and the heaviness of plausible doom lurking behind.
Mobius felt an intense discomfort from the thought of their world ending, but kept hopes high for Loki, for everyone. He followed behind the group, entering the corridor last as he sighed with a soft smile. “Alright, let’s have a little pie while we wait,” he offered, stopping in place while looking behind them once more, a feeling of uncertainty hiding in the shadows.
Loki walked straightforwardly towards the elevator and stretched out a hand to push the button pointing upward, the stark dinging signaling an uncomfortable alteration of the conversation in the corridor. At that, Sylvie turned abruptly to face Mobius, her face etched with irritated shock by his proposition. She tilted her head down in disbelief. “Pie?”
Mobius shifted his weight between his legs uneasily as he pivoted to face her, his hands clasping and un-clasping at his sides. The same smile he wore before began to transform into one of guilt, the illumination in the room suddenly feeling much too bright. “Yeah,” he agreed, just above a whisper.
Loki turned, silently addressing the situation as the tension grew. Sylvie now faced Mobius completely, her demeanor presenting with more frustration in every second that passed. Her hands raised a bit, eyes piercing through the analyst. “What is the matter with you? You dragged me back here begging for help so you must have some idea of what’s happening.” She paused, her hands now trembling slightly in front of her.
Loki had moved out of the elevator entirely, his complexion appearing distraught as his eyes bounced between the two. She took a quick breath. “Everything is turning to shit”, her voice became angrier, “and you want to leave it to them while we go and have some pie?” she spat out venomously at Mobius.
In sheer confusion, Mobius’ eyes snapped to Loki for a brief second before Sylvie began to speak once more, reeling his attention back.
“Great idea, Mobius,” she said with dripping sarcasm.
Loki attempted to reason with her. “Sylvie, wait–”
“No, I won’t wait,” she interrupted. Loki had reached a hand out in an attempt to de-escalate the situation, inevitably allowing it to fall back at his side in defeat. He moved briskly across the room, standing between the two, but giving enough space to allow them to speak.
“Come on. Let’s go and get some pie,” she practically sneered, glancing at Loki with a disgusted smirk on her lips, “why not?” She asked, her attention back on Mobius. “It’s a great idea. Does it matter that the branches are dying?” She paused again, the heaviness of her words beginning to weigh down on Mobius. His chest felt as if it would cave in on itself at any moment. Loki stood back, stunned.
Her gaze was malicious. “Clocks don’t tick at the TVA, do they?” Her arms fell back down in a display of loss. The silence in the room became deafening, and the air felt like it would squeeze the life out of each of them at any moment. Sylvie took a few steps towards Mobius, but the man remained in place, overwhelmed by her forwardness.
Her voice became hushed. “You found out you’re a Variant, and you haven’t even looked, have you?” She interrogated.
Mobius couldn’t stand to look her in the eyes any longer. His gaze fell to the ground as he forced himself to keep breathing, keeping his lips pressed together in doing so. Her words cut him deeper than he had expected. Her voice pulled him from his thoughts again.
“It’s just another bad day at the office for you. Timelines are just.. lines on a monitor,” she continued, her pent up anger releasing in a calculated manner. At that, Mobius found the courage to look back up at her, his eyes glassy with grief.
“Doesn’t matter if a few disappear. Because you’ve never bothered to look if one of them was yours,” she stated. He shook his head in a futile attempt to put reason to it all.
“Who cares if a few just disappear?” She asked, the same taunting sarcasm returning to her tone.
Mobius’ voice felt stuck in his throat. He wanted to say a million things, yet none at all. The glassiness in his eyes had become blurred vision. He could only stand there, blinking to try and clear his field of vision, but to no avail. His chest trembled in guilt and trepidation.
Loki stood back with the same apprehension, his body language displaying his own internal battle of what action to take.
“Enjoy your pie,” Sylvie finished, brushing past Mobius quickly without another look at him. Her words began to finally register in his mind, and the realization was clear on his face. He looked around the room, eyes skipping around without a set location as he permitted himself to throw his hands up in bewilderment. He could hear his own heart hammering in his ears, feeling as if he were drowning in his own thoughts. Mobius looked to Loki briefly, expecting something to be said, but found nothing.
As Loki took a breath, he moved forward, placing a bit of hope in Mobius’ heart, only for it to dissipate again as the demigod walked behind him after Sylvie. The analyst let out the breath that he was holding as his suspicions seemed to be correct. His head tilted down for a moment as he tried to ground himself, hands finding their way into his pockets that felt all too tight now. Unwelcoming. The room felt suffocating around him, cold.
As Loki’s presence disappeared from the room, leaving him alone, Mobius allowed himself a moment to breathe, collecting his thoughts and emotions. The light felt blinding, a spotlight on his grief. His guilt. His shame. Looking off to the left, he bit at the inside of his lip as the tears became prominent in his eyes.
The voice he had tried to will himself to use before finally came out, broken and quiet in the echoing corridor that was once filled with comfort. “Are you gonna say.. anything?” Mobius asked aloud to noone, wishing he had asked it in the moment.
Wishing he had asked it to himself in the past in all of the moments where he disagreed with Ravonna, with the TVA, with pruning innocent lives. Why didn’t he say anything? He huffed out a breath, his breathing coming in and out unevenly. The room felt too small, why did it feel so small? Mobius swallowed thickly, looking down again for a moment as his hands clenched within his pockets. They felt sweaty.
He urged himself to move. He needed to get out of that room, out of his own mind. Why didn’t Loki say anything? Why did she have to say everything?
Mobius walked quickly out into the hallway. He didn’t know where to go. With the literal end of the world at stake, he didn’t know what he really could do anymore. Could he help even if he wanted to?
Mobius found himself in front of one his favorite machines in the TVA. He had become very fond of hot chocolate. Coffee was too bitter, harsh, unforgiving in its taste. Hot chocolate was pleasant, warm, and inviting. Clearing his throat, his eyes still felt wet as he reached out for a cup. The stack of them was knocked over due to the quiver in his hand. Grunting in frustration, Mobius collected the cups again, looking at them sitting in a stack next to the machine. The white rims of the cups were a stark contrast of repeating lines against the neutral color of the rest of the cups. Lines that stood out with a purpose.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, his hands coming up to hold onto the wall. He was overcome with nausea as the anxiety built up in his chest again.
He couldn’t do this. Were all of those prunings really his fault? How many people had he hurt? Why did he never question it? Why did Loki never tell him those things? Did he lie? Did he think that badly of Mobius? Maybe Sylvie was right.
Mobius cleared his throat as his jaw clenched. His eyes remained shut as the tears burned behind his eyelids, begging for release. He took a harsh breath in, letting it out with the same amount of exasperation.
He pushed away from the wall after a moment, his eyes opening slowly. The tears remained on the edge of his eyes as he bitterly rubbed both of them against his shoulders. The man sniffed, reaching out again for a cup, moving more deliberately as to not knock it over again.
The analyst chose the setting for hot chocolate, set the cup down, and waited with his hands pushed into his pockets again. The machine was quiet, humming lightly as it warmed up, preparing the sweet drink behind the scenes. He waited.
Within seconds, the liquid began pouring into the cup, and Mobius watched it, his eyelids feeling heavy. His breathing still came unevenly as he watched the cup fill, trickling off to drips at the end. The machine finished, dripping once, twice, and a third time before a small light indicated the drink was ready. The bubbles still fizzled on top from the pour as he carefully picked up the drink, looking down at it.
Some of it had dripped to the floor. A wetness now tainting the sickeningly perfect tiles. He stared down at it as another drip joined it. Only this time, it looked like water.
He sniffled as the wetness on his cheek became apparent. Another drip to the floor. The cup was hot in his hands, almost burning him. Another drip.
Did Loki find him so insufferable that he would rather be around Sylvie?
Drip.
Why did Loki ever bother to trust him?
Drip.
Mobius set the cup back down, bringing his hands up to his eyes, allowing himself to cry. In the comfort of only himself, he allowed himself the release of his guilt, his worry, his gut-wrenching optimism all the time, even when nobody else possessed it.
He cried alone. The machine hummed in the background as a reminder of where he was, why he existed, what he did. Through clouded vision, he looked to the stacked cups again, now imperfectly placed due to his previous clumsy actions. The white lines of the edges still screamed at him. Murderer.
Mobius tore his eyes away from them, grabbing the cup off of the machine again with more haste. He huffed out a breath, clearing his throat again. He harshly rubbed his eyes against his sleeve this time. He needed to get back to the others and help. That was something he could do. Support those who wanted to do good, just like him. He just wanted to be good.
He raised the cup to his lips, the warmth and sweetness flooding him as he took a sip, feeling a bit better. Hot chocolate made him happy.
As he redirected his focus to going to check back on O.B., a voice stopped him dead in his tracks.
“Mobius,” a small, distant, hoarse voice called out to him. His sudden stop caused another drip of his hot chocolate to fall to the floor, tainting another tile. It took him a moment to find his voice again, his body unmoving.
“Loki,” he replied, sounding depleted of all energy.
A questioning silence fell between them once again. Loki moved steadily across the floor, looking down to the drips on the tiles following Mobius’ path. He stood behind him, biting on his bottom lip. With one hand in his pocket, the other shakily raised, finding its way to Mobius’ shoulder.
The hot chocolate in the man’s left hand trembled just slightly. Taking a small breath, he raised it to his lips again, taking a sip before holding it against his front. He turned to face Loki, finally, hoping his appearance didn’t signal any clues to his previous, and current, emotional state. Loki’s hand fell away.
He had never seen the demigod look so empathetic. He cracked one of his usual toothy smiles, opening his mouth to speak as if to try and ignore the loneliness that consumed him before, but Loki’s voice stopped him.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” he said quietly. Mobius huffed out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he willed the forming tears away.
“What’re you talkin’ about? The hot chocolate drips? I’ll clean them up, don’t worry,” he joked, aiming to turn away from Loki again. The other, once again, was quicker to act.
“No— no. What she said to you,” Loki said, shaking his head. His eyes were serious, yet saddened. He frowned, taking in Mobius’ appearance. The analyst’s smirk began to dissipate at Loki’s words, the hand holding his hot chocolate lowering just a bit. He looked up at Loki wordlessly, his lips pressed together. “You’re just doing what you’ve been told to do. What you.. thought was right,” Loki added sincerely, pulling his other hand from his pocket to rest at his side. Mobius shook his head, laughing bitterly at the sentiment.
“I’m not so sure. But we've got other matters right now that we gotta worry about. ‘Cmon, let’s go check on the others,” he said, trying yet again to escape the conversation. He didn’t want to wait around and hear Loki’s eventual disappointment in him.
“Mobius, stop,” Loki pleaded, reaching out a hand again, more firmly this time. It rested comfortably at Mobius’ elbow, keeping him in place. Loki looked at him the same way that he had done previously when asking for time to think; pleading and desperate for Mobius to listen. The man sighed, knowing whatever Loki was about to say obviously meant a lot to him.
“What is it, Loki?” Mobius asked, the bit of betrayal still stinging him. But, he wanted to be better, to do better for others, and he could start here by listening to what the demigod had to say.
Loki took a deep breath, his eyes still sad and his hand still grasping at Mobius as if keeping him grounded. “I should have.. said something before,” he began, looking at the drips on the floor. “I shouldn’t have let her berate you in the way that she did. We’re all.. suffering in our own ways, but that doesn’t excuse what she said,” Loki explained, his eyes finding their way back to Mobius’.
The man remained silent, taken aback.
“And I suppose.. that doesn’t excuse my silence, either,” Loki added with a definitive nod, his head moving forward just slightly to look more closely at Mobius. The other broke eye contact after a few seconds, looking down at his drink. The same blur was creeping back over his vision.
“It wasn’t your responsibility,” Mobius finally said under his breath.
“But in this place, we all have a part to play. We all have done things that we aren’t proud of. All of us,” Loki continued with urgency and compassion. “We need to fight to protect this place, not tear each other apart because of it,” he added. Mobius’ clenched his jaw.
“I killed people,” Mobius said shortly.
“As did I,” Loki agreed, his voice just a bit louder. He paused for a moment, reflecting. “And so has Sylvie.”
The space between them felt heavy. Mobius didn’t know what to make of it. He was normally level-headed, calm, able to see the bigger picture. But it was hard to not focus on the details of himself playing a part in it all this time.
“I know you feel guilt because of what she said,” Loki said more softly, his thumb rubbing just slightly against the man’s elbow, “and I feel guilt that I didn’t try and.. diffuse the situation. It was like watching my father and my brother again,” he said, thinking back on his past. “My father was quite unforgiving in his tone at times. I would watch in the shadows as Thor would take the judgment he dealt out, unwarranted sometimes. I always wished I could have done more. To have stood up to him. But I was scared,” Loki explained, his expression appearing distant.
“Scared little boy,” Mobius said with a fondness in his voice, his wet eyes meeting Loki’s again.
“I’m scared now. This is beyond anything that I’ve experienced in my realm,” he added with a sigh, his brows furrowing sadly. “But I want to protect what I can.”
“You are,” Mobius agreed with a nod, a smile of despair on his face. He transferred the cup to his other hand, placing it back on the machine. Loki never let go of his arm. “You’re doin’ a great job,” Mobius said encouragingly, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I wanna do better.”
“You will. We all will,” Loki comforted, his own eyes mimicking the glassiness of Mobius’.
“I don’t know if I can,” Mobius admitted, ignoring the streaks making their way down his cheeks to the floor again. Drip, drip. The hot chocolate’s warmth remained, though, in the presence of the machine’s humming. Loki was warm, too.
“I do. You can trust me, Mobius,” Loki said, taking a step forward, his hand eventually letting go of the man’s arm. Mobius dropped it back to his side. The two stood facing one another, their shared tears speaking for themselves in the moments of silence. The hum filled this silence, too, as the machine acted as a line between them.
“You really believe in this place,” Mobius stated, swallowing harshly. He sniffled, unmoving.
Loki paused for a moment, thinking. He looked around at the winding hallways, the too-perfect tiling. The hot chocolate machine. The dull colors that seemed to blend everything together. The countless propaganda on the walls. Mobius; the man who believed in him when nobody else did. The man who had fought for his life when nobody else wanted to. The man who gave him a second chance, who put his mischief and wrongdoings aside to look for the good in him. “I believe in you.” Tears fell from Loki’s eyes, mirroring the streaks present on Mobius’ face. “And in believing in you.. you’ve shown me how much you care about the TVA, about everyone here,” he stopped, motioning with a hand around them for emphasis. “And so, I believe in it too.”
Mobius huffed out a small laugh, looking down at his feet as he cried through his gratitude. It was all too much. He didn’t know what to think. Here they were, at the end of the world, divulging their belief in one another. He had to clean the floor up, it was much too obvious now.
“Please, Mobius,” Loki pleaded, with no direction as to what he was asking for. Mobius looked up slowly, painfully aware of the space they took up in the room together. Their presence, together, felt so monumental.
“Okay.” A simple, forward statement. One that carried many promises in it. “Loki?”
“Yes?” The response came almost immediately.
“Ever tried hot chocolate on Asgard?” Mobius asked with a smile, the tears still falling from his eyes. Loki’s smile grew to meet the size of the other man’s, sniffling as he laughed lightly.
“I don’t suppose I have,” Loki replied simply.
“It’s warm,” Mobius explained, looking over to his cup, “inviting, pleasant,” the man added. “Kinda like someone I know,” Mobius quipped, looking back at Loki, his tears turning from ones of sadness to admiration.
“Are you implying that I’m a chocolate beverage?” Loki asked with a smirk, tilting his head downward just a bit.
Mobius laughed. A genuine, real, laugh for the first time in a while. “I guess I am, huh?”
“Well, then I’m delighted to be one of your favorite things,” Loki proclaimed, eventually bringing his arm up to wipe his tears off onto his sleeve. An unknown parallel to Mobius’ previous actions.
“You are,” Mobius said, his tone more serious as his smile faded to more of a hint of one. He still looked at Loki, the end of the world seeming just a bit less scary. “Thank you,” he said faintly.
Loki mimicked his newfound seriousness, hesitantly placing his hand back around Mobius’ elbow. He nodded, looking back and forth at both of the other’s eyes. They were illuminated dully, but enough to see the shine of color in them. Wordlessly, Loki let go of Mobius again, moving forward to bring him into a hug. Loki’s arms wrapped tightly around Mobius’ shoulders, willing the man’s head to rest against his own shoulder. He permitted his eyes to fall shut for a moment, listening to the way the hot chocolate machine’s humming seemed less apparent.
Mobius felt no hesitation as his arms snaked around the other’s waist, holding him just as tightly. His previously wet eyes rested against Loki’s shoulder, drying them efficiently as they stood together, sharing the space now. “Thank you for not givin’ up on this,” Mobius whispered.
“I never would,” Loki confirmed, pushing his head further into Mobius’ neck as if to hide from the dangers to come. They remained quiet, holding each other for a few more moments before mutually pulling away. Mobius kept his hands on Loki’s waist while Loki’s hands remained positioned on the man’s shoulders. “Mobius, I have to tell you something.”
Mobius raised his eyebrows, looking open to whatever the other had to say. “What is it?”
“If we can’t.. find a way to stabilize the loom–”
“We’ll find a way,” Mobius interjected.
“Right, well.. if we don’t,” Loki paused, his hands sliding up to rest on both sides of Mobius’ face. He studied him for a moment, his mouth parted slightly. The despair in his movements was evident, the tears glistening against his blue eyes once more. “I just want you to know, well,” he was finding it difficult to form the correct words. “I want you to know how much you’ve helped me to grow,” Loki said, sniffling once. His thumbs traced over the small scars on Mobius’ face, not noticeable until standing so close; the man had such an intricate history. “You always look for the good in everyone, in me. And I could never repay you for that.”
Mobius’ looked up at Loki with a bit of innocence, his fingers gripping onto Loki just a bit tighter. He felt a youthfulness in his mind, in the situation, yet his body felt old and weary. Loki’s clothes felt rough under his fingertips, much too rough for a demigod. “I look for the good in others where I don’t see it in myself,” Mobius replied with soft honesty. “Sometimes you don’t have to look that far,” he added with a sincere smile. Mobius absentmindedly pulled Loki in just a bit closer to him, his hands never straying from his waist.
Loki allowed this close contact, taking a small step forward. He felt his lip quiver with emotion at Mobius’ words. “I am hardly as good as I would hope to be someday,” Loki replied with a small head shake, his eyes wet once more. “You’re a good man, Mobius, no matter where the universe has put you,” he said, his body language longing for something.
Mobius clenched his jaw, looking down for a brief second. “You may see that differently some day, Loki.”
“I won’t, I haven’t,” Loki responded quickly, moving his head in an attempt to meet Mobius’ eyes. The man looked up, sensing this curiosity from the other. Their eyes met, the silence settling in once again. The gap between them felt like miles. They were knitted so tightly together in this place, yet, were oceans apart.
It was harrowing, utterly heart-wrenching for Mobius to have to push away his desires his entire life. He had never been truly in control. The watching eyes of the TVA were always there, dictating his moves, deciding his fate. He wanted to decide on his own. If he was going to die, he wanted to die with his newly attained freedom.
Without a word more, Mobius eliminated the daunting distance between them. His fingertips gripped at Loki’s sides with an unmistaken fear of losing him, of falling into hopelessness and loneliness once again. Of returning back to endless years of manipulation and retribution from a driving force he never met.
Though clumsy in his contact due to his inexperience, Mobius kissed Loki fervently, his instincts taking over his racing mind. The desperation was transparent, and Loki mirrored his needy actions. The demigod’s hands gripped his face lovingly as if he would break if Loki held too tightly.
Mobius was the first to pull away, leaving only an inch between their lips. Both of their eyes remained closed, the only sound being their harsh breaths. Their grip on one another loosened only to allow themselves the ability to shift where they stood to find a more comfortable stance. Mobius let himself open his eyes, seeing Loki’s still shut.
“Loki, look at me,” Mobius beckoned gently, a smile of endearment on his face. “Hey, ‘cmon.”
Tears ran down Loki’s face once more as he cracked his eyes open, desire and relief clear on his face. Mobius’ smile grew, rubbing his thumbs against his sides again. “There you are.”
Loki couldn’t help but break into a wide smile, hands moving to rest on Mobius’ shoulders again. “Here we are,” he proclaimed in a bit of disbelief, licking at his lips.
Mobius chuckled, swallowing down the nerves that crept up in his throat moments prior. “I guess if we uh, make it through the end of the world. We got a lot of catchin’ up to do over some pie,” Mobius said, the wrinkles at his eyes forming as he laughed outwardly, the sound echoing in the hallway.
Loki’s smile grew along with the joyous sound, his cheeks burning from the realization of his meaning to the man. “Don’t forget the hot chocolate,” he added with a wink.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Or, the end of it,” Mobius chuckled, pulling entirely away from Loki finally. “Speaking of which, guess we’re missin’ out on the good part. What do you say we go check on them?” He asked with a smile, turning to walk towards the left hallway.
The demigod followed closely at his side, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m sure they could use our expertise,” he commented with his usual wit. The two made their way out of the corridor, leaving the machine humming behind them.
The cup, half drank, remained atop the machine as it continuously hummed in their absence. Mobius decided he finally felt warm enough, no longer in need of the drink to bring him the sweet pleasure that he had yearned for for so long.
He promised himself that if they had made it through this, he would make a trip back to the machine with Loki to try some, together.