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“So then,” Gwen carried on relentlessly, suspended upside-down over Mobius’ desk, “Remy started chasing him — literally chasing! — right through the main cafeteria, and it was just chaos everywhere… you can’t even imagine. It was like something out of some stupid kids’ movie, seriously.”
“Uh-huh,” Mobius grunted, profoundly disinterested in her recount of the ridiculous antics of their team of misfit heroes, yet too polite to send her packing.
It was nice having company sometimes, he had to concede, especially when it was someone so young and enthusiastic keeping him on his toes. But perhaps not so much these days, when every signpost was pointing them towards multiversal disaster, with incursions ramping up, whispers of a frighteningly powerful Doom variant traversing timelines… and Loki’s location and status still a complete mystery, even all these years later.
At the thought of his wayward god, the tension building in his neck began creeping up into his head, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as Gwen continued yapping over his head.
“... pretty sure they’re gonna be on clean-up duty for a month,” she chuckled, “Anyway, finally he caught him in chrono bay one, almost taking out three analysts when they slid across the floor like a couple of idiots, and-”
Cutting herself off abruptly, Gwen disengaged from her webshooter, flipping over to land nimbly on the floor beside Mobius’ desk.
At the sudden movement, and more notably the cessation of her persistent yapping, Mobius spun his chair around to look at her for the first time since she’d appeared from the ceiling ventilation system several minutes ago, tilting his head, brow furrowed in silent query.
She glanced at him, then back at the empty space in the middle of his cubicle.
“Something’s about to happen,” she murmured, so quietly it was almost a whisper. Mobius tensed, half-rising from his seat as his pulse picked up. “Something’s coming…”
The words had barely left her mouth when there was a bright flash of rainbow light; a shadowy silhouette taking form within. As the dancing beams whorled and dissipated into nothing, the figure shaped itself into the frame of a young man who was standing with his back to them, clad in casual clothing, and frozen in shock.
“Wh- wha…” his tremulous voice stammered, then the man’s head slowly turned, taking in the desks all around him, and the handful of occupants also working late that evening who were staring back at him, mirroring his stunned expression. “Uh… hi.”
He spotted Gwen in his periphery over his shoulder, already cowled and poised for a fight, and he whipped around quickly, facing both her and Mobius, who was now on his feet beside her.
“Whoa, whoa,” the young man spouted, holding his hands in the air, and there was something familiar about him that Mobius couldn’t quite place. “I’m not here to fight, honest! I… I- I don’t even know where ‘here’ is…”
“Who the hell are you? How did you get here?” Gwen demanded, before Mobius could so much as draw breath to speak.
“I don’t know!” the guy exclaimed, and even in the throes of panicked consternation, Mobius noticed him flick an observant glance down at Gwen's costume, eyes narrowing for a moment in an unreadable reaction. “I- I was just in my apartment, doing my thing, then I felt really weird for a second… and then- then I was here.”
Spotting a fellow agent at the desk opposite reach for their phone to call security, Mobius halted them with a sharp gesture, and they reluctantly paused.
“Who are you, kid?” he asked, with far more gentleness than Gwen.
But the simple question had the young man instinctively take on a ‘deer caught in headlights’ look… which only escalated comically when his hand shot up before him in an involuntary movement, palm upturned.
Half a moment later, a small plate appeared upon it, laden with a perfectly presented wedge of key lime pie.
Mobius’ breath caught near painfully in his chest, and he found his feet carrying him forward instinctively, grabbing the plate from the kid as he almost dropped the damn thing in surprise.
“What the…” Gwen whispered, sidling closer to join him, the two of them scrutinising the pie intently as if to ascertain its genuinity.
However, a sudden yelp from their unfortunate guest fast recaptured their attention.
A large sticky label had appeared on the front of his hoodie, and he was gazing down at it in horror; the cheery, pre-printed words, ‘Hi! My name is…’ adorning the top border. The three of them were transfixed, as the words ‘Peter Parker’ appeared in the blank space, emerald green ink scrawling a tidy yet ornate hand that Mobius would recognise anywhere.
“Loki,” he all but whimpered, choking on a hitched gasp, not even able to feel mortified at his reaction as his heart began racing.
Beneath Peter’s name, smaller writing appeared a few moments later as if in afterthought, this time reading, ‘Earth - 616’.
Huffing a half-laugh, half-sob of pure disbelief, Mobius shook his head faintly in awe, hands shaking as he moved to place the plate of pie reverently upon his desk, the ceramic rattling very slightly upon contact.
“Uh, yeah,” the kid — Peter — finally spoke again. “What- what this says. Peter Parker.”
Mobius blew out a long breath, eyes closing for a moment before he squared his shoulders, turning back to face him.
“A.K.A. Spider-Man,” he said with what he hoped was an amiable smile, though he was too overwhelmed to focus properly. He folded his arms across his chest, mostly to hide his persistent trembling. “We do know you, of course, although I’m not the Spider-Man guy around here. Which is why I didn’t recognise you straight away, I’m sorry.”
“‘Spider-Man guy’?” Peter echoed weakly, so horrendously confused that Mobius’ heart went out to him.
Pulling her cowl back, Gwen approached him with piqued curiosity.
“Yeah, she’s great,” she assured him cheerily, “I can take you to meet her, once we get you settled.” She smirked a little at his wide-eyed stare. “But if you’ve been sent here by the person we think sent you, then I’ll need you to come talk to the boss-lady first.”
Glancing at Mobius, she raised a querying eyebrow, and with a rush of affection, he realised she was taking charge so that he could have some time to compose himself.
“Yeah. Yeah,” he nodded, a gesture of concurrence and permission combined. “Uh, Gwen here will escort you wherever you need to go, and- and everything will be explained to you. I promise.”
Poor Peter still looked completely stunned, glancing between the two of them… then visibly jolted as he caught his first glimpse of the view outside the chrono bay window.
“Hey, come on,” Gwen said buoyantly, taking his elbow as he paled somewhat. “I just know you’ve seen some crazy shit in your time, so there’s nothing to worry about here.” She led him away, and he followed her on autopilot, steps shuffling as his eyes flitted about anxiously. “I mean, y’know, multiversal threats and imminent destruction of existence aside…”
“What?” Voice high and reedy, Peter was aghast, and Gwen’s not-so-reassuring response faded into the background noise of the chrono bay concourse.
The other agents nearby having returned to their work upon realising there was no immediate danger, Mobius was finally left alone, and his chin dropped heavily as he slumped backwards, hands braced upon the edge of his desk.
Remembering the pie, he turned around, staring down at it for several long moments before gradually easing himself back into his swivel chair, elbows propped on knees as he leaned forwards with an unsteady exhalation.
His eyes never left the slice of pie… the only evidence he’d seen of Loki since the Nightmare incident ages ago, when the God of Time had fleetly appeared as a magpie, providing crucial assistance when the team’s lives were threatened.
“So. Sending us newbies to join our ranks?” he murmured conversationally, glancing up at the ‘LOKI4EVA’ poster tacked to the wall of the bullpen. “Things must be getting pretty grim, if even you’re entering the recruiting business now.”
As if in response, Mobius' empty coffee cup promptly refilled with a piping hot cappuccino; a layer of thick foam covering the top, just as he’d always liked it when accompanying dessert.
A decorative fork then appeared beside the plate of pie, and of course Loki would conjure only the finest of gleaming silverware.
Tears sprang to Mobius’ eyes, even as he chuckled, but he blinked them away quickly.
“I’m so relieved you’re still okay,” he sighed, almost to himself, eyes closing for a second before his gaze resettled upon the plate. “I really can’t stand this whole… not knowing anything deal, I gotta say.”
Tentatively, he reached out, sliding the mug and plate closer. Despite his negligible appetite, he nevertheless picked up the fork, toying with it between his fingers as he again looked up at Loki’s regal profile depicted on the poster; a gift that had been both touching and hilarious when presented to him by B-15, OB and Casey some time ago.
“Y’know, it does kinda piss me off a bit that you can come rescue us in bird form, send me Lost Boys to join us from halfway across the multiverse, and make me dessert, but you can’t even swing by for a proper visit.”
Nothing further happened in response to his words, and he quickly felt bereft, wondering whether Loki had perhaps already withdrawn from their interaction. After all, with the incidence of incursions increasing exponentially, he was sure to have his plate full too… pun not intended.
“I guess I can only assume that you have your reasons,” he mumbled anyway, in case he was still there. “And thanks for the new recruit. Gods know we need all the help we can get.” With a heavy sigh, he stuck the fork into the lurid green confection. “I just miss you so much.”
Again there was nothing, for long enough that Mobius was losing hope of ‘hearing’ anything back. But then the surface of his coffee shimmered for a moment, leaving behind a dusting of cocoa powder sitting atop the foam.
It was shaped like a heart.
With a sharp twist in the vicinity of his own, Mobius crumbled inside, leaning an elbow on his desk to prop himself upright, face buried in his hand. He didn’t speak at all, for even if he could have, there was nothing adequate to say.
Not without risking humiliation, at any rate.
It took a while for him to regain his composure, long enough that surely Loki must’ve been well and truly gone. Rubbing at stinging eyes, he sighed yet again, hand passing roughly down his face as he let it drop to his lap.
The forkful of pie still hovered over the plate in his other hand, and even though the last thing he felt like was eating, it seemed awfully rude not to show some appreciation, whether Loki was still watching or not.
Resolute, he popped the fork into his mouth.
An instant later, the bite of ‘pie’ was sliding down his computer monitor before him, leaving a slimy trail of bright green residue; Mobius spluttering and coughing and reaching for the cappuccino, which he hoped like Hel wasn’t similarly offensive.
Mercifully, it tasted absolutely fine… or even perfect, he’d go as far to say.
After swallowing a large mouthful, his mug landed back on the desk with a thunk, and Mobius glared down at the pie with disdain.
“Loki… is this wasabi?” he seethed quietly, inwardly congratulating himself on exercising admirable restraint. He could only imagine the way Loki would currently be laughing at his expense, and he couldn’t help rolling his eyes. “Here I was deluding myself into believing that you’re now this saintly, benevolent entity… but you really are still my Loki, aren’t you?”
Throat tightening on the last few words, his voice became strained, the tumult within only further stirred up when an adorable, cartoonish drawing of Loki’s horned helm sketched itself upon the topmost square of the pad of post-it notes beside his keyboard, again in the same emerald ink as Peter’s name tag.
Before he could even hope to formulate a response, the wasabi abomination briefly shimmered as his coffee had, magically replacing itself with something that more closely resembled the weirdly comforting gelatinous quality of a standard TVA pie. The mess on the monitor screen also vanished, thankfully leaving no traces behind.
Huffing in wry amusement, though his eyes blurred with tears, Mobius braved a bite, a flash of a grin passing across his face at the confirmation that it was indeed the real deal this time.
“Gotta say, it tastes way better when it comes from you,” he remarked unthinkingly, then immediately flushed. “Gods, that sounded so bad, I’m sorry. You know what I mean.”
In the awkward lull that followed, Mobius dutifully picked at more of the pie, unsettled by his complete lack of enlightenment as to whether he remained the subject of Loki’s attentive observation.
It wasn’t until two-thirds of the slice was eaten did he notice that the outline of Loki’s head on his poster had come alight with a viridescent glow.
“Oh hey, you are still here,” he smiled, putting down the fork and taking up his coffee as he leaned back leisurely in his seat, delusionally treating this as a normal conversation. “Thanks for the real pie, you mischievous scamp.”
As he watched, the light flowed from the silhouette of Loki’s profile into the graphic rendition of the timelines that surrounded him, bringing them to life just as Loki had upon that accursed gangway all those years ago.
Understanding the message loud and clear, he deflated sadly.
“Time to go though, huh?”
In response, the timelines on the poster grew positively incandescent, to the point where Mobius would have been concerned about the paper catching fire, if he hadn’t known better.
But then, with a heartbreaking abruptness, they snuffed out completely… and Mobius knew for certain that this time, Loki was gone.
He hid his face in his mug, the burn of the coffee in his throat masking that of raw emotion.
“See ya later, Loki,” he muttered brokenly, once he was able to find his voice.
And there was no other choice but to believe it would be true.