Chapter Text
Mobius nodded along to what Casey was saying. He was talking about some kind of new technology that he and O.B. were working on. Or maybe he was telling Mobius about something he’d seen on a timeline. Or was it that he was just updating Mobius on his day. It didn’t matter. Mobius wasn’t paying attention enough to know. He had been having a hard time concentrating on anything lately.
“So, what do you think? Should we try it?” Casey asked him.
The break in speaking and the way Casey looked at him expectantly clued him in that he was supposed to answer. He tried to think about what Casey was talking about and came up short. He barely caught the question at all.
“If you think it’s a good idea, I say go for it,” Mobius answered noncommittally.
Casey lit up at the prospect. “But what about the linear-” Casey said before Mobius cut him off.
“I think that’s a great question for O.B. Why don’t you discuss it further with him and the two of you can decide together?” he suggested.
There was a dull ache in his head from the conversation already. He wanted to escape, maybe find something to eat. Perhaps a coffee and something sweet would make him feel better. Luckily, Casey nodded and left in search of O.B., leaving Mobius with the opportunity to stretch his legs. It seemed as though he’d been at his desk for an eternity. It was certainly possible, though not probable. He stood, stretched out his limbs, which popped and groaned, and went on the hunt for something to eat. As he left, he glanced at the screen showing the many timelines. It was the same as it had been since they had broken the loom. He broke his gaze away with some difficulty and left.
Mobius didn’t know what exactly he wanted. A coffee, yes, but he thought he should have some food as well. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. He found one of the old hot beverage/soup machines and considered his options. There were so many choices and even though he’d made the choice a million times before, he struggled to narrow it down. Staring at the machine, the words blurred before him until he didn’t even know what he was looking at, or what he wanted. With a sigh, he placed a cup under the machine and put in a token. Whatever it was, it would be fine. So long as it wasn’t soup.
The last person to use the machine had fortunately selected hot chocolate. Mobius watched the liquid dispense into the cup until it sputtered and it stopped dripping, half an inch from the lip of the cup. He stared at it and then at the machine. He wasn’t ready to go back. He wasn’t ready to move on. He moved the dial to “Extra Marshmallows” and put another token in. The machine dropped four miniature marshmallows into the cup, splashing some of the hot chocolate over the side of the cup and making a mess.
After cleaning up with some napkins, Mobius took his hot chocolate and tried to decide what he would eat. He didn’t feel hungry but he knew he should eat. Maybe it would make him feel better. He hoped it would, as he gripped the hot beverage with both hands. He set off, in no particular direction, and made the choice that whatever he found first would be what he would eat, the soup not included.
The halls wound around until Mobius was sure he was lost. He’d never been to this part of the TVA before. Or had he? The hallway looked the same as most of the other hallways he’d been in. It was hard to tell. And then he rounded a corner and down a couple steps and stopped short when he saw where he was. The automat. Dozens of slices of pie lined the wall from lit up compartments, staring back at him, beckoning him to select one. A wave of queasiness washed over him as he looked at the slices and the small table he and Loki had shared. Mobius decided he wasn’t hungry after all. Something about the lighting in the room made the pie look unappetizing anyway. Or so he told himself.
By the time he’d made his way back to his desk, the marshmallows had already melted and dissolved entirely into the lukewarm hot chocolate. He sat down at his desk, clutching the hot chocolate as if siphoning the last of the heat could save him. As if it could help him feel something other than the chasm of nothing that filled him as he went about his life on autopilot.
Mobius looked up at the screen filled with timelines again. It was the same. The branches that came together twisting around one centralized point and then spread out again like the branches of a tree. They were beautiful. And the screen was a constant reminder of what they were all working for. What they had all struggled to create. Mobius often stared at the screen, searching for something in the timelines that would motivate him to continue. Searching for someone, some sign. The timelines stayed constant though.
He took a sip of the cooled off hot chocolate before he set it aside on his desk. It was cold already and tasted watery. The only sweetness seemed to come from the marshmallows that had melted as a sticky bubbly foam on top. It was bland, as much of the TVA was.
He pulled a file from his pile of cases he was going through. He was one of the analysts searching for variants of Kang. They were keeping an eye out, trying to neutralize as many of them as they could become a problem. Each file represented another variant and Mobius had to go through them and determine which of them needed the TVA’s intervention. Mostly it was mind-numbingly boring.
Once in a while, Mobius would find something, some interesting tidbit in a file and he’d get excited and look up to show it to Loki before he remembered. Loki wasn’t there. Loki wouldn’t be there ever again. The wave of grief and loneliness would wash over him again and he’d look up at the screen again. If he squinted, maybe he’d see Loki at the center of the tree. If he looked hard enough, maybe he’d see a flicker of green. Maybe if he caught it at the right time, he’d see Loki coming back or winking at him or sending some message. But he didn’t. The timelines flowed in a constant stream, tangling together before being separated again.
When Loki had first left, Mobius had hoped that he would come back. It would be like all the other times he had supposedly died or disappeared and then reappeared later on. Mobius had stared at the place Loki had last been for what felt like years, willing Loki to come back. Eventually he had to give up and go back to his job at the TVA. He thought maybe Loki would still show up eventually. Loki was a master at escaping difficult situations. This would be no different. But as time passed and things at the TVA settled, Mobius had to admit it was unlikely that Loki was coming back.
Eventually, Mobius knew he would have to move on. The TVA needed him. He’d survived without Loki before, he could learn to do it again. When he looked around him, he saw people he knew and cared about. They were people who were dedicated to the mission of the organization. He could do it for them. So he threw himself into the work. If he stayed busy, he’d be less likely to feel the gnawing emptiness. It worked for a while.
His attention waned as he flipped through the file. Another Kang variant, another potential danger to the timelines. This one did seem like he could become a problem. Mobius would have to ensure a team was sent to neutralize him. He set the folder in the pile of others that would have to be handled. Out of habit, he took a drink of the cooled hot chocolate on his desk and made a face before setting it back down.
Mobius looked at the screen again, this time studying the different timelines and watched the way they each swirled around each other. Each one represented billions of people, some of them were people he knew. It was hard to comprehend what that really meant. So many lives, so many people with dreams and hopes and fears and likes and dislikes. It made him wonder sometimes what that was like. What was his life like?
He pulled out his Tempad and typed in his request. His thumb hovered over the send button. There was no going back after he found out. Mobius hesitated. Did he really want to know?
“Did you know about what Casey and O.B. were working on?” B-15’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Mobius looked up. Her words had sounded serious, though there was a skeptical smile on her face.
“Do I want to know?” he asked, setting his Tempad down.
“Apparently they’re trying to get Miss Minutes back online,” B-15 answered.
Mobius furrowed his brows and looked over at O.B. and Casey, who were working on something at one of the control panels.
“Is that safe?” Mobius asked.
B-15 shrugged. “They seem to think so.”
Mobius nodded thoughtfully. He didn’t know what to say. If those two thought it was safe, they were probably right. They knew more than probably anyone else about the workings of the TVA.
“How are you holding up?” B-15 asked quietly.
Mobius gave a half-hearted shrug. It was the best he could come up with. B-15 gave a sympathetic frown in response but didn’t comment. Instead she glanced over at the Tempad on Mobius’ desk.
“I think that’s a good idea if you think you’re ready for it. I know you’ve put it off for a while,” B-15 said.
“Yeah. I don’t know. Maybe it’s time I find out,” Mobius responded. It felt hollow.
B-15 placed her hand on his and gave a gentle squeeze. The warmth of her hand was a comfort.
“Whatever you find, remember that we’re here for you,” she assured. Mobius nodded and gave a soft thanks.
B-15 nodded and departed. The warmth of her hand on his lingered for a moment longer before it faded as well, leaving only the phantom feeling behind. He looked at the Tempad on his desk, picking it up and contemplating the send button again before setting it down again. His attention was drawn to the screen at the front once more. He watched the timelines skirt across the screen. Then Mobius looked at the piles of folders and paperwork that littered his desk.
Everyone else around him was focused on their own tasks. The room was busy with analysts and hunters milling about, talking about different cases, filing reports, or looking through files. Most of them had already seen their lives on the timeline and chosen to remain in the TVA. Mobius’ gaze fell to an empty chair in one of the corners. It should have been removed already since it was no longer needed but there it remained. It had been brought in for Loki to use and now sat empty, purposeless.
Holding his breath, Mobius picked up the Tempad and pressed the send button, requesting the file. If he never looked, he’d never know but maybe there was something there worth knowing.