“I know what kind of god I have to be. For you… for all of us.”
Sylvie and Mobius watch through the glass, both horrified, as Loki stands at the exit to the gangway. He looks… almost peaceful, for the first time all day, no longer hurried and fighting, with his brain and mouth running a million miles a minute. But that peace is undercut with something tragic, something deeply pained, a burden heavy on his shoulders and woven deep into his expression.
“No…” Mobius whispers. Sylvie can hear the tremble in his voice.
The door is held firm, no amount of pounding and shaking of it from Sylvie or Mobius has made it budge.
Loki turns away, raising his arms as magic sparks to life at his fingertips, the gangway door starting to very slowly slip open.
Sylvie knows there’s more to this. Loki went from desperate panic to smooth calm in moments, there’s something he’s not telling them. The way he is speaking is with finality. He plans to sacrifice himself in some way, to be some tragic martyr.
Not on her watch.
She still feels hopeless in a sense, still doesn’t know how they’re going to fix this, but she can’t allow this to be the way.
“NO!” She roars.
As she does she motions with her arms as if she is pulling open the door, a similar green magic flowing around her. The locked door leading downstairs tears apart, chunks of metal twisting and warping and bolts flying out as she continues to force it open.
Finally, the door clatters to the ground, and Sylvie rushes through, trailed by Mobius. With a final wave of her hand she makes the gangway door snap shut as well.
“Loki, I don’t know what you think you’re doing but you need to stop. Getting yourself killed isn’t the way to fix this.”
Loki looks at them, bewildered. Then, his face crumples, his eyes brimming with tears and his whole demeanor seeming shaky again.
“You don’t understand, I saw everything, there’s no other way. Not any way I’m willing to take,” Loki whispers, looking harrowed. “I lose one or all of you, or everyone loses free will. Unless I do something different.”
Sylvie stiffens. Loki has seen too much, seems to have seen outcomes that haven’t yet happened to them.
“There’s always another way. We just have to find it. I’m not letting you do this, Loki. We aren’t going to let this happen.” Sylvie glances at Mobius.
Part of Sylvie wants to ream him, wants to shake him and ask why he thought he could just leave them and expect them to just deal with it (Sylvie is admitting something to herself, there, that she cares about Loki more than she dared expect, that she doesn’t want to exist without him around, and that’s something ), but she thinks Loki needs the softer touch right now. The world is crumbling, yes, but whatever Loki has been through to make him think he had to leave them and sacrifice his safety for them, that needs to be addressed first. Being willing to go out with everyone instead of sacrificing any of them to save herself is also something Sylvie is contending with, but she can no longer pretend that she’s not changed.
Loki glances at Mobius and somehow his face crumples even more. “I can’t…” Loki whimpers.
Mobius, ever the gentle one, surges forward and tugs Loki into a hug, one hand cradling his head, fingers tangled in his sweaty curls. “I don’t know what’s happening Loki, but please don’t leave us. We need you.”
Loki sobs. It’s something hollow and terrified, like he’s reverting back to being a child and is being awoken from a nightmare. He curls into Mobius’ hold, seemingly nearly collapsing. Mobius holds him up for a moment, but then lowers them both carefully to the ground as Loki’s knees give out again.
“Sylvie, Mobius, please…” Loki murmurs, still shaky. “You don’t understand, I have to… I can’t save you all otherwise.”
Mobius pulls slightly back from their embrace just long enough to place one hand on Loki’s trembling knee and the other on his cheek, his touch careful.
“Loki, I don’t know what’s going on, what you’ve seen, but I can tell it’s a lot. Too much. I know things are grim, but if you just let us in, maybe we can help. Find another way that doesn’t require our deaths or your sacrifice.” Mobius whispers, smooth and gentle.
“I’ve tried… endlessly… over and over.” Loki replies.
“But you’ve been trying alone, haven’t you?” Mobius asks. “Maybe things would be different if you let us help you?”
“But maybe they wouldn’t… and I can’t risk losing you again.”
“Again?” Sylvie asks quietly, even though she has her suspicions about what’s going on.
“I’ve been timeslipping. Over and over, trying to change it. I learned to control it, so every time I’ve failed I’ve gone back. Thousands of retries, maybe even millions by now, I don’t know. It’s too many. It never mattered. Everyone dies no matter how quick we go through the plan, no matter what we try. And even if I go back further, it leads to other damages that I’m not willing to compromise on. There’s so much death. I don’t want to leave you all, but it’s the only way.”
They’re all quiet for a long moment, soaking in what Loki has told them. He’s been trying this for… what seems like centuries, or whatever the equivalent is here within the TVA. It’s incomprehensible, it sounds maddening. Sylvie isn’t surprised that Loki is so defeated, why he feels like he’s run out of options. But, curse her newfound optimism, Sylvie won’t accept that. They will find another way.
Mobius remains quiet too, but he carefully wipes the tears away from Loki’s cheeks as they stream down. Sylvie can see the conflict and heartbreak in his eyes— his endless empathy means he’s taking on the tragic suffering that is radiating off of Loki right now.
“Please, Loki. Let us help you. I know you’re doing this because you care about us, you want to save us, but if you think you’ve found some way to fix this with your sacrifice plan, if you let us in, maybe we can tweak the plan, make it work without you having to do that.” Mobius murmurs, his head tilting with hopeful curiosity even as his brows are knitted with concern.
Loki, for the first time, looks almost hopeful too. There’s still a deep, nervous knot in his brows, though. “This is my burden to carry… it’s not fair, it's hard, but I have to…”
“Your burden? Now, who told you that? He Who Remains?”
Loki lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head with a sort of defeat, running a shaky hand through his hair to push it back. “You did…”
Mobius freezes, a frown on his face. “What? When did I say that?”
“I went back. Back to the day we met. You gave me the perspective I needed, that sometimes the right choice is hard, that suffering is inevitable, it’s just a matter of picking your burden,” Loki whispers. He seems so certain, even as the turmoil is woven deep into his features.
“That version of me sounds like a bummer,” Mobius replies, a spark of something warm in his eyes even as Sylvie can see the underlying horror there, the realization that he, in some indirect way, caused Loki to make this choice. “Loki, that version of me is a world away. I have been changed by you so thoroughly, in the best ways, I don’t believe in a lot of the things that I did back then. You have shown me so much of the truth, made me reevaluate. I don’t believe you need to carry some burden forever. Sure, there will always be scars and pain that we all have to deal with, but to be suffering forever? To carry the pain of all of existence? No, that’s not what has to happen, I can’t believe that.”
Loki simply looks at him, long and drawn out. His eyes flit around Mobius’ face, occasionally shifting slightly towards the destroyed door or to Sylvie. He looks utterly lost, all of his conviction from when he stood at the door to the gangway ready to sacrifice himself for them gone now. The tears still stream silently down his face.
“I’ve tried what feels like everything…” Loki finally says. “I don’t know how to make it different.”
“That’s where we come in,” Sylvie says, surprising herself at how soft her voice is, not laced with anger or panic, but simply gentle, trying to draw Loki in.
Mobius nods. “She’s right. You’re brilliant, Loki, probably more than I even know with all that you’ve now seen, but if you let us help you, you’ve got so much more brain power to work with. We may be able to think of something together that you haven’t.”
Loki nods slowly. He looks like he’s considering every outcome possible, and that hopefulness seems to finally be softening his features, until he grimaces once more.
“Whatever happens, if we don’t get it right this time and I have to reset… you all will forget all of this ever happened. I’ll be alone again.”
“Explain it to us, then. If you have to reset, come find us first, explain everything, even this. Rather than trying to handle it all on your own. Let us in. I promise that the amount that we love and trust you won’t change if you reset. We’ll believe you, and we can work it out together.”
Loki’s eyes widen, not in surprise but with a sort of overwhelmed relief. He’s still clearly exhausted and wrung out, but Sylvie manages a sigh as she recognizes some sense of acceptance in him. Bless Mobius and his abilities to articulate himself clearly, so he could say all the things that are thrumming under her skin but she can’t manage to express.
“Okay,” Loki sighs softly. His head falls forward and meets Mobius’ forehead, and Mobius simply smiles softly, gives Loki’s leg a squeeze and returns his hand to the back of his head, fingers once again entangling in the only strands of hair, his hands a solid necessity for Loki right now.
They breathe slowly together, and after a long moment, Mobius pulls back slightly, but still keeps his hands firmly on Loki. He has a warm expression on his face, but the fear still lingers in the creases of his skin. Mobius moves his hand from Loki’s leg to his cheek, making sure to hold Loki’s face so he can meet his eyes. “You scared the shit out of us, Lokes. You scared me.”
“I’m sorry…”
“I’m not saying it to make you feel bad. I just want you to remember for the next loop how much we care, how much we don’t want to be without you. Please don’t sacrifice yourself for us. I want a world that is beautiful because you’re in it, using your lovely heart and brain to make it better and exist within it, not a world where you’ve given yourself up to maintain it.”
Loki nods shakily, and leans forward to fold Mobius into a hug, still half in a heap on the cold metal floor. Mobius embraces him, trying his best to minimize the way his body still trembles with the residual fear of seeing Loki behind that door, so close and yet a world away, ready to give up everything for them.
“Thank you, Mobius. For everything.”
Mobius holds him firm, stroking one hand up and down his back. He may be terrified himself, still, but he can tell Loki just needs some comfort right now.
When Loki pulls back, collapsing back on his knees with Mobius’ hand falling back to his leg to keep rubbing soothingly in slow movements, he glances at Sylvie, the relief still clear.
“Thank you, too, Sylvie.”
“Don't mention it,” she sniffs softly. “Just please don’t be stupid again. Mobius is right, we need to do this with you, not without.”
Loki actually manages a wobbly sort of smile at that. “Okay.
“We'll do this together.” Mobius says, nodding slightly.
Loki looks between Mobius, Sylvie, and the door that leads to where the rest of the group are waiting.
“Okay… together.” He sighs softly, and the smile that slips onto his face is the first genuine one he’s felt in a long while.