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“Loki? Are you awake yet?”
What? Why was I even asleep? he asked himself, muzzy and vague, Weren’t we investigating that bizarre laboratory?
“Wait, what am I thinking, don’t try to answer,” Mobius’ voice spoke again, hurriedly. “You, uh- you won’t be able to.”
That’s when he realised that the voice in question sounded awfully muffled, as though he were hearing it through thick glass, or perhaps water. And as his eyes focused — as best they could, at any rate, although that sense was heavily affected as well — he discovered that his perception was unsettlingly accurate.
Mobius’ face loomed overly large behind said glass, peering at him with his brow creased in concern… though the hint of a barely-repressed smile played about his lips.
The sight of his unexpectedly enormous features had Loki jolting in fright.
And that’s how he discovered he had fins.
“Shh, shh,” Mobius tried to allay his rising distress, and drew back a little; presumably so as to be less imposing, though it wasn’t terribly effective. “Don’t freak out.”
Don’t… don’t freak out?? Loki screamed in his mind, But I’m a… I’m a…
“You’re a fish, yeah,” Mobius confirmed his wildly panicked realisation, then paused for a long moment. “A really pretty one, actually. If- if that helps any,” he finished lamely, clearly casting around for anything placatory to offer.
And that was the best he could come up with?
Loki was trying his godsdamned hardest to bellow something obscene in response, as he determined he was well within his rights to do, but all that happened was his mouth opened and closed rapidly, and his fins propelled him up and backwards a little as they flapped erratically in outrage.
“Hey, calm down, I promise it’s okay,” Mobius said, bending in close again, his expression now sobering completely. “OB can fix this, he knows what he’s doing. He just needs to run a few tests to make sure.”
But what happened? he asked silently, wiggling to drift closer to the glass, and stared up at Mobius as beseechingly as he could.
“Confused, huh?” Mobius guessed, and in response Loki swam around in a little circle, finding it easier now to relax into piscine movement. He’d taken this form a few times before in his life, though not for countless years, so it was fair to say that he was a bit rusty.
“Yeah, of course you are,” Mobius continued, with empathic understanding. “Well, long story short, because I dunno what your attention span is like right now–” Loki turned towards him with his best attempt at a fish-glare, and Mobius’ lips twitched, “But it turns out the facility was a front for a real evil little operation, where these crooks were using genetic transmogrification technology to change common living creatures, like rodents and such, into rare ones from across many star systems… and, more relevant to us, from different time periods, having an insanely vast databank of DNA coding. Then they proceeded to make an absolute killing, selling them off as exotic pets.”
Right, Loki thought, mulling this over. That makes a whole lot of sense, actually.
Especially as to why they’d been detecting strange energy surges from that location, spanning several years, and the emergence during that period of biological forms all across the timeline that had been flagged as anachronistic.
And now Loki was apparently made one of them.
He swam in another circle, in the hopes of letting Mobius know he understood.
“Heh. That’s so cute,” Mobius remarked unthinkingly, then immediately winced in chagrin. “Uh, sorry.”
Loki turned his back snootily, fanning his silvery, diaphanous tail out behind him attractively as he drifted towards the back of what he’d obviously deduced was a small fish tank… sitting upon Mobius’ desk?
A huge telephone had come into somewhat distorted focus before him, one that he would recognise anywhere.
But… but if I’m on Mobius’ desk, does that mean–
“Hey Mobius. And, ooh, hey Loki, how’s life as a fish?” Casey loomed over him, larger than life and smiling benignly. Then his eyes lit up as he blurted, “Oh, he’s conscious! Does that mean I can feed him now?”
There was a loud snort from Mobius, and Loki’s insides filled with dread.
Because despite retaining his high intelligence and reasoning abilities, his physical form was undeniably that of a base creature, who of course had appropriately base needs. The sort that would be very, very difficult to counter through willpower alone.
And the moment the first few fish flakes alighted upon the surface of the water above him, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to resist.
“Not too many,” Mobius was gently guiding Casey, “It could hurt him if he overeats.”
Godsdamn it, I’m not going to overeat like some gluttonous primitive! Loki thought furiously, fruitlessly fighting the impulse to partake at all, even as he arrived at the surface and began gobbling up the soggy morsels of pure revulsion.
Well, that was what he wanted to think of them. But the truth was… they were actually surprisingly, and annoyingly, satisfying.
Oh Hel. Norns help me, please, he thought miserably, as he dutifully finished his dinner.
For two entire days subsequent, Loki was subjected to the utter mind-numbing boredom of the inside of his tank, Mobius eventually obtaining for him a little plastic plant to hide behind when he was feeling particularly dejected, though quite reasonably not seeing much point in decking it out any further than that, not when OB was ninety-five percent certain that Loki would be back to himself in no time at all.
However, it wasn’t simply the relentless dullness that made the experience so horribly agonising.
Because, although being fed fish flakes twice a day was appallingly humiliating enough… the less that was said about swimming around in water that was tainted with his own excrement, the better.
Every ‘breath’ he took made him feel ill, and he wondered whether anyone would find it within themselves to take pity on him and clean out the tank. But it apparently didn’t look dirty enough, so he had to quite literally suck it up.
Ugh, he thought for the hundredth time, with a mental shudder, as the water sloshed around a little with the movement of the archives trolley the tank was currently being transported upon.
Mobius brought the tank back to his quarters at nighttime, predominantly because he hated the thought of leaving Loki alone all night. But Loki also suspected that because he was a fish, and therefore a much more delicate lifeform, Mobius was feeling rather protective of him; an impression that was only consolidated by the fact that he continuously approached to check on him at all hours throughout the night.
And it had not escaped Loki’s notice that his eyes were beginning to look shadowed with fatigue, and lined with tension.
On the third night, Mobius stayed asleep for a whole four hour stretch, the tiredness clearly catching up with him. And when he finally awoke, he rushed over to Loki in a desperate panic, almost collapsing in discernible relief when Loki darted around vivaciously at seeing him up and about.
“Gods, Loki, this procedure today can’t come soon enough,” he groaned, sprinkling some more flakes into the tank, and watching with exhausted fondness as Loki fed eagerly. “The stress is killing me, keeping you alive. Who’d have thought you’d be harder work as a fish, huh?”
Loki stopped munching to swim towards him, brushing his shining, peacock blue scales against the smooth glass.
“It’s not your fault, I know,” Mobius sighed. “It’s not like any of us had any idea what that thing did, or that you’d managed to trigger anything by wandering onto that containment platform. But geez, when all that we found was a pile of TVA uniform after the transmogrification field had vanished, it scared me to death. Then to find you as a tiny helpless fish tangled up within it all, writhing around in panic–”
His eyes closed as he cut himself off, and Loki peered up at him in morbid curiosity, not having had much recollection of the event.
“It was so lucky those assholes still had a stockpile of fish tanks and appropriate water in that room,” Mobius continued unsteadily, “Because otherwise we wouldn’t have saved you in time.”
That was… extremely disconcerting, and it perhaps explained why Mobius hadn’t described anything in much detail before now.
With a heavy sigh, Mobius turned to the timepiece on his nightstand, then scrubbed at his face wearily.
“Well, anyway, you’re gonna go back to normal today,” he carried on, his tone increasingly chipper. “Just a couple more hours Loki… stay with us, okay?”
He gently ran a finger over the glass beside Loki, who opened and closed his mouth in a pathetic imitation of reassurance.
But it was enough to make Mobius smile.
“Okay Loki, we’re gonna have to take you out of the water for this,” Mobius informed him as they awaited OB’s go-ahead, and Loki couldn’t help but feel an immediate thrill of fear. “I know, it’s not ideal,” he carried on soothingly, “But otherwise, we risk you exploding the tank when you reform, and the broken glass could be hazardous to you, and/or the rest of us.”
‘The rest of us’ consisted of Mobius, OB and Casey, plus one of OB’s team of scientists who he’d taken a particular interest in, as she’d proven her technical proficiency time and again.
They were only left waiting for a couple more minutes, but when Mobius finally dunked the little green net into the water to scoop him out, Loki suddenly got cold feet… or fins, more accurately, and couldn’t help trying to evade him.
“C’mon, Loki,” Mobius urged. “I know you’re scared, but it’s nearly over. Just think about all the nice things you can have when you’re back to normal.”
Ugh, he’s right, Loki thought to himself. Real food. My bed.
Being clean, for gods’ sake.
Okay, perhaps it was worth almost suffocating to death.
He gradually neared the hovering net, then after one final hesitation, obediently swam inside.
“We good, OB?” Mobius checked, and at his nod and thumbs up from the control console in the distance, he muttered, “Here goes,” and lifted Loki from the tank, briskly depositing him onto the same illuminated platform where this whole entire mess had begun.
Gasping for air, Loki tried his best not to panic, knowing that the more he writhed, the more oxygen he’d require.
But each second was interminable, and as they ticked up beyond ten… beyond twenty, Loki’s vision had already started to grow hazy, and he couldn’t help but worry.
“What’s the hold up?” Mobius soon demanded, “Should I put him back?”
“No! No, just a second,” OB called out.
But ‘a second’ became too many more, and Loki was convinced he was going to die.
When a white light eventually enveloped him, it was wholly unclear whether he’d been touched by death, or salvation…
… But then it gradually faded, and as he blinked — blinked, thank the gods — in the dissipating glare, he registered that he was still mercifully conscious this time.
Although he rather fleetly wished that he wasn’t, when it suddenly struck him that he was lying sprawled out on the floor; cold, wet, and very very naked.
With a startled yelp, he instinctively curled up into a ball, screwing his eyes closed in unspeakable mortification. But only a few moments later, a soft blanket settled over him, and a relieved chuckle preceded a warm hand rubbing his back comfortingly.
“S’okay, Loki, we didn’t look,” Mobius said with a grin, as Loki blinked up at him, frowning irritably. “Well actually, I can’t speak for Selena, I have to say,” he added cheekily, and the young scientist in question turned away with widening eyes, though not before Loki noticed her bright pink cheeks.
Wonderful, he thought grumpily, and then with a spike of giddy delight, remembered that he could speak again.
“That was bloody awful,” was the first thing he slurred, not even caring how pathetic he sounded. “Gods Mobius, I can’t believe I sometimes used to become a fish for fun. Never again, let me tell you.”
Smiling widely, Mobius went to retrieve a towel from nearby as Loki pushed himself to sit shakily, getting used to his human form once more, and wrapping the blanket tightly around himself. He gratefully allowed Mobius to rub the towel roughly over his wet hair, idly wondering how the small amount of water that had been on his tiny fish body could still make him so thoroughly soaked when massively larger.
It didn’t seem quite right, and was decidedly unfair, though Loki found himself lacking the capacity to dwell on it, and instead held out a hand in a silent request to be helped to his feet.
“Can you walk okay?” Mobius asked in mild concern, and Loki glared daggers at him in disdain… only to fall in a heap after taking one step.
His weakened limbs were only a brief and minor inconvenience, so it was with much put-upon griping that Loki acquiesced to Mobius keeping him company in his quarters for the rest of the day, until they were confident that he’d fully recovered his strength.
But if he were honest, he’d gotten quite used to always having him around, and the arrangement proved to be quite pleasing, in fact… not that he would have ever let on.
And after two showers, a three course meal (albeit barely passable cafeteria fare), a hot tea, and two whiskeys, Loki finally felt as though he was almost back to rights.
Almost, but something still niggled at him, even once he was ensconced in his favourite fleece blanket, in his comfiest loungewear, with Mobius beside him sipping his own drink at a much more respectable pace.
“What is it?” Mobius queried softly after several minutes of uncomfortable fidgeting. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m perfectly well,” he replied, though a little evasively. For he did feel fine… better than fine, in fact.
But still… something was amiss.
“You didn’t forget to wash between your toes, or something?” Mobius teased him, endlessly amused by his compulsion to have two incredibly lengthy showers the moment they returned to the TVA. “Or did you only do behind your ears once, instead of three times?”
“Oh yes, most amusing,” he said drolly, Mobius nudging him in a jocular fashion. “You have no right to judge me, Mobius. Not until you’ve spent two and a half days and three nights being forced to knowingly swim around in- in your own filth.”
He fairly spat the last word, with supreme distaste, and Mobius apparently couldn’t restrain himself any longer, bursting into a fit of unbridled hilarity.
Loki was seething.
“Don’t. Laugh.”
But his spiking ire only seemed to provoke further amusement, and he released a gusty sigh, submitting to weary resignation as he raked his hair off his face irritably.
And that’s when he realised what had been grating on him.
“Oh gods,” he spouted, jumping to his feet as he stared at his hand in horror, the forgotten blanket pooling around his feet.
Mobius desisted as if a switch was flicked, and bolted upright in worry.
“What, what is it?” he pressed, instantly alarmed.
“… I- I think I only washed my hair once,” Loki whined, and he dashed back to the bathroom, chased by the loudest snort of laughter that had likely ever been heard in the history of the TVA.
“Don’t forget to scrub behind your gills!”