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The almost nightly occurrence was becoming increasingly harder to endure.
Loki had suffered enough, after all, and it was almost too much for Mobius to bear, having to sit by him uselessly as the demons of his past — both recent and less so — cruelly tormented the one who had more than earned a lifetime of restful sleep.
But Mobius was nothing if not committed when it came to this final assignment, entrusted to him at his request by the scant representation of what had once been the TVA.
One last, and lasting, mission.
Thus he found himself yet again perched at Loki's side in silent vigil, as the once phenomenally powerful entity writhed and whimpered before him in heart-wrenching misery. One of Mobius' hands rested lightly upon his clammy brow, and the other grasped his wrist; an escalated pulse fluttering beneath his fingertips, though not rapid enough to be of any real concern.
The nightmares were a more recent development, after weeks upon weeks of Loki staunchly remaining closed off and impassive came to a head; a catalytic incident tipping him over the edge, and spilling out some of his pent-up pain.
To say his tears had been long overdue was a severe understatement, as with the physical comfort he'd sought… that which Mobius had grown increasingly desperate to provide since the outset of Loki's recovery, after being rescued.
A coveted development, certainly, yet the unleashing of his inner turmoil was now manifesting in other ways that seemed unnecessarily harsh.
Case in point, Mobius thought ruefully, at Loki's next feeble moan of torment.
With weary detachedness, he couldn't help but idly wonder whether tonight's dreamscape was the one in which Loki again had his seiðr cruelly stripped away, or if he was instead reliving the relentless torture he'd suffered at the hands of their multiverse-annihilating enemy.
Alternately, perhaps it was the moment he'd been led to believe that Mobius and all his other friends had been killed, when he'd learned of the utter devastation at the TVA.
Or it could easily be the shadowy spectre of inescapable dread that had been his constant companion for centuries, both whilst time-looping to save the branches, and subsequently anchoring them for what Loki himself said he perceived as eternity.
Upon reflection, it was rather a wonder that he was anywhere close to functional, most of the time.
Fingers twitching involuntarily around Loki's wrist, Mobius tensely awaited whatever signs may herald his awakening, absently taking to stroking his brow with a gentle caress. However, it became increasingly obvious that he was no closer to rousing himself from whatever was terrorising him, and Mobius progressed to more boldly carding fingers through his hair in a slow and deliberate motion, hoping it would either assist him in a gentle awakening, or at the very least provide enhanced comfort.
"Come back to me, Loki," he soon whispered, bending down towards him, his heart unable to take the visceral suffering for much longer. "That's enough for tonight."
And miraculously — or coincidentally — Loki acquiesced.
The muted vocalisations ceased first, his pinched brow gradually relaxing, and subsequently easing a little of the tension in Mobius' own back and shoulders. The weak thrashing and erratic movements stopped soon after, then after another minute or so of relative peace, hazy blue eyes cracked open, and Loki's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Mobius?" he mumbled raspily, and he blinked a couple of times, attempting to focus.
"Yeah, it's me," Mobius said gently, with the faintest of reassuring smiles. "Just dreams again, Sprout." He cupped Loki's cheek as one would something fragile. "Are you alright?"
Clearing his throat as he swallowed dryly, Loki's steady gaze was nothing short of adoring, which was becoming as common as the godsdamned nightmares, and never failed to make his insides flutter.
"All the better for waking to you," he murmured with open affection, covering Mobius' hand with his own.
"Oh you," Mobius huffed, his cheeks warming as he briefly glanced away. "You're delirious. Go back to sleep."
With a dopey smile that carried the clinging vestiges of slumber, Loki's fingers wrapped around his hand, tugging on it weakly.
"Only if you stay."
"Sure," he replied without thought, as this wasn't the first or even the third time that Loki had made such a request.
Merely an innocent plea for company and comfort, of course, and Mobius could not and would never refuse him.
Wriggling over, Loki made room for him to slip under the covers, and without letting himself overthink it, he wrapped his arms around him as Loki burrowed in under his chin.
An easy peace permeated the room as their quiet breathing was joined only by the faint scratching and rustling of twigs and leaves from the tree outside Loki's window. Moonlight was streaming inside on this clearest of nights, and Mobius stared out at the waxing gibbous through the silhouette of branches, fast becoming stripped of their foliage in the autumn winds.
"What was it tonight?" he inquired after several minutes of tranquility, knowing from experience that Loki was likely still awake. "I mean, only if you want to share. No pressure."
A long moment of silence stretched out until taut, but it was eventually broken by a soft sigh of resignation.
"You," Loki reluctantly replied, almost in a whisper. "When you were attacked."
Mobius had to think for a second about what he was referring to, because it was not at all an answer he'd been expecting.
"When I was stabbed?" it suddenly occurred to him, an upward inflection denoting his incredulity.
"… That surprises you?"
"A bit, yeah," he answered honestly. It had been such a long time ago, and so much had happened since then that to his mind was far more traumatic for the both of them. "Why that, of all things?"
Again there was no answer for an uncomfortably long time, and he began to wonder whether Loki was even going to reply.
Then the fingers that were resting against his chest grasped onto his sleep shirt, bunching it in a firm grip.
"It was one of the worst moments of my life," Loki mumbled in a naked confession, voice rough with burgeoning affectivity.
Running a hand over his back soothingly, Mobius pulled him a little closer, uncertain of what he could even say to that.
"In all fairness, however," Loki pressed on at length, somewhat unsteadily, "It was because of you getting hurt that I knew to keep a close eye on the TVA, and hence was able to intervene during Nightmare's attack."
At recollecting the wholly unlikely team-up of a flerken and a mystical magpie, Mobius allowed himself a faint smile.
"So me getting stabbed was a good thing," he pointed out jocularly, "'Cause it saved everyone, see?"
A moment was all it took for the same thought to strike them, simultaneously and mercilessly; their mutual tension escalating and fast becoming palpable.
The TVA may have been saved, on that particular occasion.
But… in the end…
"Shit," Mobius sighed desolately, the darkened periphery of Loki's bedroom rife with the ghosts of thousands.
His throat inexorably tightened, eyes pricking with tears.
"Yeah," Loki choked out softly in reply, and with a ragged breath, he clung onto Mobius in sudden desperation, shoulders heaving under the onslaught of fraught emotion.
Similarly overcome, a muted sob burst from Mobius as well, and the moon outside swam and blurred before his eyes, their hitched gasps and sniffles merging in a pitiful yet heartfelt requiem for the many who had fallen.
* * *
Mobius never even realised he'd drifted off to sleep, until he opened his eyes to find weak sunlight brightening the sky outside… and reflecting in a pair of big blue eyes that gazed at him across the pillow.
"Hey," he said quietly, untangling a hand from the rumpled sheets to bring to Loki's cheek. "You okay?"
"Are you?" Loki turned the question back on him in a tone that would have been almost playful, were it not for the lingering melancholy that hung about them like a physical entity.
Mobius opened his mouth to confirm without proper consideration, but staring into Loki's eyes, he was compelled to be honest.
"Not really," he replied baldly, and although Loki seemed crestfallen, he nodded in understanding.
"Mm. Me neither."
With a gusty sigh, Mobius drew him back into his arms as he had during the midnight hours, and they lay in quiet reflection for a time.
"The cafe in the village does key lime pie," he eventually spoke up, seemingly apropos of nothing, though he knew Loki would catch on with no issue. "Think you can manage an excursion today, for old times' sake?"
Nodding against him, Loki swallowed a little thickly.
"Yes, of course," he replied sombrely. "For All Time's sake."