Work Text:
It was a surreal feeling, the sudden awareness that one is likely about to die. The eerie calm of the soul, even as unrelenting claws of panic continue to sink in deep. A distorted haze in the mind, yet one can sense all around them with startling clarity. Final thoughts that are decidedly not crying out in rueful desperation to the people one cares about, but instead drifting to the inconsequential, the ridiculous and mundane.
I never returned those files to the archive, thought Mobius vaguely, hopefully Loki will do it for me.
His eyes slipped closed, but blinked open just a second or so later.
Wait… Loki was here… where did he go?
* * * * * * *
FIFTEEN MINUTES EARLIER
The TVA was in a state of chaos, at least in this particular sector. A detainee had managed to break free from a secure cell, and no one had any inkling as to how it had happened, whether a TVA agent was in on it, or even if the variant was armed. They were, however, definitely considered to be a threat.
Teams of hunters had been deployed immediately to scour each level, and available agents were also sent off in pairs to assist in the search.
OB, furiously typing commands into the computer terminal of a chrono bay workstation, had finally managed to trace the prisoner’s time collar signature, and was alerting nearby teams of their whereabouts.
“Attention everyone,” he put out over a group announcement, “The variant is currently heading down to the lowest levels of the building, most likely using maintenance ladders and access ways. They look to be approaching the water reservoirs, is anyone close by?”
“We are,” Mobius huffed through the comms channel, “Loki and I are on it. Which tank does it look like they’ll breach?”
“Most likely AQ-41,” OB promptly responded, “But if that changes I’ll let you know immediately.”
“Thanks OB, we’ll keep you posted.”
* * * * * * *
Clambering down thin metal rungs bolted to a concrete wall, Mobius and Loki found themselves on a walkway that ran alongside an oblong water reservoir, about ten meters long and five meters wide. There were sub-surface openings at each end of the tank that led to tanks AQ-40 and AQ-42.
“We’re here, OB,” Mobius told him, “But there’s no sign of them. Which way?”
He turned away from the water and glanced upwards to the raised catwalk from which they’d descended, wondering if they were in the right area after all.
“They headed into the next tank through the underwater entry point, forty-two,” OB said, “But I think I just figured out how to lock down that entire level by activating certain security measures.”
There was some frantic tapping at the other end, then:
“Okay stay put. All the doors and access hatches in that vicinity will be sealed, and as you know, time door usage is already blocked down there. That should be enough to contain him. Hunters will be sent to his location as soon as possible.”
“Alright OB, let us know if you need us to do anything else.”
He turned back to where Loki was standing… had been standing. Instead he found his friend’s discarded jacket tossed onto the floor, and the water near the underwater access hatch rippling with recent disturbance.
“Damn it Loki…” Mobius sighed, exasperated.
After hesitating only a second or two, he dropped the tempad and his own jacket on top of Loki’s, then breathed in deeply before plunging into the water, unwilling to let Loki be trapped alone with a dangerous prisoner.
At that moment, a loud buzzing emanated from speakers unseen, and orange lights began flashing a warning. Mobius pushed himself through the water, following Loki through the access door. But as he did, two sliding panels of thick steel began closing in on either side of the opening. Mobius put on a burst of speed, relieved as he managed to squeeze through just in time.
But then a painful pressure bit into his lower leg, and his forward momentum was jarred to a halt.
Shit.
He tugged and twisted, but gave up quickly, knowing with dreaded certainty that he was trapped. Up ahead he could make out Loki’s blurred form as he started to climb out of the water onto the walkway, but then his movements ceased for a moment, and Loki slid back in, swimming over to Mobius. He looked at him questioningly, and Mobius gestured behind himself, eyes wide with panic. Loki shot past, and he then felt fingers prying at the solid panels closed firmly around his calf. Apparently they were impossible to budge with bare hands, because after scant seconds Loki swam back around, and held up his index finger.
Wait.
What? Wait?? For how long? Mobius thought in manic desperation, as Loki kicked off from the bottom of the tank.
But Loki had barely surfaced when he returned again, diving down with a powerful, athletic stroke and drawing near to Mobius. He tapped his own lips with a finger, then reached forward and did the same to Mobius. Mobius frowned in confusion, but then as Loki gestured back and forth between them, it clicked.
Loki was going to try and breathe for him.
There must have been at least a trace of the fear and incredulity he felt showing in his expression, because Loki quickly grabbed his shoulders with urgency, holding him in a firm grip. They locked eyes; Loki’s pointedly wide, his head tipped forwards meaningfully.
Trust me.
Mobius jerked a quick nod, exhaling the last of his air before Loki launched forwards, holding the underside of his jaw in one hand while pinching his nostrils closed with the other. Then Loki clamped his mouth firmly over Mobius’, waiting for him to part his lips. As he did, Loki exhaled gently as Mobius inhaled… and it was the strangest sensation. Mobius almost choked on the warmth and slight dampness of it, but knew if he did anything like that, it would spell the end for him. So he barely managed to keep himself composed, and breathed in relatively calmly.
The instant it was done, Loki shot to the surface, which was mercifully less than a couple of metres above. He must’ve only had his head out of the water for around five seconds before he dove back down, ready for round two. They repeated their actions, everything slightly quicker and smoother this time. By the third breath, they had it down pat.
But as Loki broke the surface preparing for breath number four, Mobius was all-too-aware that this wasn’t at all sustainable. God or not, Loki would eventually tire, and he wouldn’t be able to deliver air to Mobius quickly enough.
And would not be taking in enough to meet his own needs.
Staring into the murky half-light of the reservoir tank, he cursed himself for his terrible compulsive decision, and vehemently hoped that help was on the way.
* * * * * * *
Loki carried on providing precious air to him for several minutes. The time between each was getting progressively longer, however, which was initially horrifying. But as time passed, he was rapidly losing the capacity to care… about anything much, really.
And then Loki was gone, for significantly longer than normal, and oxygen deprivation kicked in full force. Dwelling on the absurdity of an unexpected demise, subconsciously detaching himself in a last-ditch attempt at self-preservation, Mobius came to accept that this was it.
In that moment, he found himself thinking of unreturned archive property, of all the ridiculous things.
Blinking eyes that were now struggling to focus whilst blearily wondering where Loki had gotten to, his friend then promptly reappeared from above, gripping something long and narrow in one hand. He surged forward and breathed one last breath into Mobius.
But Mobius could tell that it was too little, too late.
Loki vanished behind him. Mobius didn’t even question what he was doing, he was so far gone. He allowed himself to drift languidly in the water, slowly exhaling the last of the air.
It could have been worse, he thought, this is certainly a peaceful way to go.
No sooner had his eyes slipped closed, he suddenly felt the incessant pressure ease off his leg, a burst of pain accompanying the sensation. Then rough, fumbling hands gave him an almighty shove, and he was propelled inexorably upwards, breaking the surface to find a group of pale-faced hunters with their hands outstretched, ready to drag him out of the water.
Mobius flopped bonelessly onto the adjacent walkway like a dead jellyfish, limbs sprawled haphazardly as he wheezed and gasped and coughed, fighting to draw breath. A couple of hunters closed in to check on him, but he barely even acknowledged their presence. Swept away on a wave of giddiness, he was completely overwhelmed by having his life unexpectedly returned to him.
Eventually, once breathing was no longer painful, Mobius had recovered sufficiently to notice that the hunters nearby were conversing in clipped, urgent tones. He then heard an unmistakable splash-splash as two of them leapt into the water.
His eyes flew open at that.
Loki?
Struggling to sit upright, he gave it up as a lost cause, instead rolling onto his side to observe the remaining hunters standing at the water’s edge, waiting tensely.
Several seconds later came the sound of water being breached, accompanied by loud gasps, then Mobius saw the two hunters clambering out of the water… between them hauling a decidedly limp and unconscious form.
“Loki!” he cried, voice rough and choked in the aftermath of his ordeal, “Loki…”
Mobius tried to move towards him but firm hands held him back, and he was still too weak to fight them. Terrified, his breath came in harsh, ragged gasps as he watched the two hunters kneel at Loki’s side, checking his vitals.
Mobius was profoundly consumed by how painfully still and white he was.
The hunters glanced at each other, and one abruptly began chest compressions, counting in a near-silent whisper.
“No…”
He felt like the floor was crumbling beneath him. This could not be happening.
Thirty compressions. Two rescue breaths. And start over.
And once again…
and again…
and again…
Mobius was completely helpless, doing nothing but staring in frozen shock as they continued CPR for what felt like hours. His throat constricted in panic as frightened tears trickled from his eyes, hot trails mixing with the cold wetness of his skin.
Come on, Loki. Come on… please please please…
The hunters refused to quit, working on his friend with steely determination, but even he could see the brutal reality eventually reflected in their eyes.
This wasn’t working.
Irrational anger surged within. Loki hadn’t even been under water that long! How could this have happened?
And then, like an icy shard piercing his chest, guilt impaled him soul-deep.
It was his fault. He was an idiot, thinking Loki might require his mediocre brand of back-up, but his blundering had caused a disaster instead.
Loki was going to die because he did something stupid.
Mobius felt sick.
“One more minute,” one of the hunters said softly, “then we might have to call it.”
“No!” Mobius burst out in a strangled sob, a surge of strength borne of pure desperation shoving the restraining hands away as he crawled over, stationing himself above Loki’s head.
Tears fell unbidden as Mobius leaned over his friend, tenderly brushing strands of dripping wet hair from his face.
“Loki… if you don’t pull through, I will never forgive you,” he ground out wetly, “Actually, I will never forgive myself. Is that what you want, to leave me here wallowing in guilt for the rest of eternity? Come on, I know you’re a jerk, but you’re better than that.”
He was rambling and likely looked like a crazy man, but was well beyond caring.
“Or are you just trying to get out of going through those files I pulled yesterday? Dick move, Your Highness, feigning death to avoid a bit of reading.”
The hunter kept performing chest compressions, but shot Mobius a pitying glance. He barely registered it.
“But you’re not… you’re not going to leave me to do all that research alone, are you?”
His voice broke a little, and he swallowed with difficulty.
You wouldn’t leave me, would you?
Mobius slowly bent down as he felt like his insides were caving, bringing his forehead to Loki’s. He was shuddering violently as he barely held himself together. Loki’s head lolled rhythmically beneath his, in time with the compressions.
And then moments later, the movement stopped. A minute must’ve been up.
Gods, no.
Stillness and silence settled over the scene, bar the gentle humming of nearby pumps and machinery. No one seemed willing or able to move in that transient moment.
Mobius, overwhelmed with pain, grasped blindly with one hand, latching onto Loki’s arm and gripping tightly.
At once, a sudden jolt from his friend had him shooting upright with a startled yelp. Loki thrashed and flailed, unintentionally flipping onto his side and spontaneously coughing up what looked like buckets of water.
The hunters retreated as Mobius launched himself forwards to take their place, relief coursing through him so powerfully as to make him feel shaky and lightheaded. He rubbed Loki’s back as water continued erupting from his airways, hand catching on the soaking wet fabric of his shirt.
After what was likely seconds but felt like an eternity, Loki stopped expelling water and began alternating between something that resembled breathing, and violent coughing. Mobius had never heard a more beautiful sound.
“It’s okay… breathe Loki… you’re okay,” he whispered soothing nonsense as he bent over his friend, Loki gradually beginning to calm.
A few minutes later, once his panting and gasping petered out into small puffs of mild exertion, Loki rolled to flop onto his back, gazing up at Mobius with unfocused eyes.
“Mobius…” he said so quietly he could barely be heard, “Oh, Mobius, you made it…”
Mobius choked on a huff of irrepressible disbelief.
“I made it?? Me?” he shook his head, “Loki…” he trailed off, not sure if he wanted to laugh, cry or let loose with an outraged tirade.
After a moment’s consideration, however, he simply collapsed onto the floor, not caring about anything except being as near to Loki as possible.
* * * * * * *
Eight exceedingly dull hours of observation later, Loki had been discharged from the infirmary. Mobius walked with him back to his quarters and ended up staying, which is why he was now sitting casually on Loki’s couch, a brown TVA-issue blanket wrapped loosely around him. The water in the reservoir tanks hadn’t been freezing, but the experience had left him nonetheless chilled, whether that be from residual physical discomfort, trauma, or a not-so-healthy combination of both. His lower leg that had been caught in the cursed watertight door was bruised and very tender, but the pain was annoying rather than intolerable. Mobius was extremely fortunate that no lasting damage had been done.
His pride was another matter entirely.
Loki shuffled out of the bathroom, freshly showered and wearing loungewear of such enviable style and softness that he had to have stolen it from either Wardrobe, or a timeline. He lowered himself down next to Mobius with a gentle but weary sigh, closing his eyes as he leaned back into the plush cushioning.
“You still good?” Mobius asked, turning to look at him carefully.
“I’m fine, Mobius, no need to mother-hen,” he griped, the barest hint of a smile betraying his halfhearted attempt at irritation.
Mobius looked down at his hands, fidgeting with the silken edging of the ugly blanket for several long moments.
“What is it?” Loki muttered, obviously sensing the discomfort Mobius was exuding.
“Nothing,” he replied, too hastily. Loki opened one eye to glare at him.
“Okay, something,” he conceded. Heaving a sigh of his own, he turned to face Loki properly, tucking his uninjured leg up onto the couch.
Loki’s head rolled towards him, half-lidded eyes gazing at him curiously.
“I have to- need to apologise, Loki,” he began. Loki frowned, already not quite following.
“You nearly drowned today because I made a moronic choice to go after you, and it’s- it’s eating me up inside. I’m so sorry… I don’t know what I was thinking,” he snorted self-deprecatingly, “Well, not much, obviously,” he added.
Loki considered this for a minute, then placed a hand on his blanketed leg.
“We all choose poorly sometimes, Mobius,” he said softly, “And yes, sometimes those choices may end in tragedy… or worse,” he mumbled more to himself, as he tensed slightly in self-reflection. He paused, but then drew himself back to the moment.
“But your choice came from a place of good intentions, misguided though they may have been. At the very least, you should feel no shame in that.”
Mobius cast his eyes down in self-doubt. He knew Loki was correct, but it didn’t make him feel any less a bumbling fool. He slid the soft binding against his fingers again in a self-soothing action, lost in thought.
The hand on Mobius’ leg moved to his shoulder, and shook him gently.
“Hey.”
He slowly met Loki’s eyes again, seeing only warmth and mild concern emanating from within.
“Please don’t think on it, Mobius. I know that’s easier said than done, but honestly, it’s not like it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” a smirk accompanied the flippant remark, and Mobius found his mouth quirking despite himself.
“We both survived, the escapee was recaptured, and everything is right in our little corner of the multiverse,” Loki said placatingly, then frowned slightly, “Or outside of the multiverse. I don’t know. Whatever.”
Mobius chuckled fondly.
“Your ‘tired’ is showing,” he said, “Better take care of that.”
“As should you,” Loki reminded him, “I’ve already had hours of tedium reclined in one of those contraptions of mild torture the infirmary insists is a ‘bed’. You, however…”
“I’m fine,” Mobius insisted.
“Mm, of course you are.”
Loki lay his head back again, eyes closed once more. Mobius shifted around to sit more comfortably.
His guilt was certainly not unabated, but Loki’s words had eased the knot inside enough that he could allow himself to relax somewhat. If Loki didn’t harbour any blame, it would be irrational for him to beat himself up to the point where it kept him awake at night.
Mobius sat listening to Loki’s soft breathing beside him, and basked in the heady miraculousness that he was able to do so. Fighting back emotion, he finally succumbed to his exhaustion, leaning into Loki and brazenly putting his head on his shoulder, because why the hell not? He had literally shared in Loki’s own breath today; this was nothing.
He felt his friend look down at him for a moment, but Mobius remained nonchalant. Obviously Loki had no real objections to the affectionate gesture… confirmed a few seconds later, as Loki gently rested his own head atop Mobius’.
His eyelids grew heavy in the comfortable silence, and in his drowsy contemplation he couldn’t help but let slip a bold little wisecrack.
“Hey Loki?”
“Mm?”
“If y’wanted a kiss that bad, y’only had to ask,” he mumbled.
The gentle shaking of Loki’s silent laughter lifted the corners of his mouth as he gradually drifted off.