As Loki walked away, Sylvie couldn’t help but feel a bit frustrated with him.
It wasn’t his fault that they were in this situation. And he wasn’t in the wrong for defending his friends, however much she thought that considering the people who had tried to kill them both several times was insane. She was just so frustrated, so wracked by her emotions, which usually just churned casually inside her that all good judgment was escaping her right now.
The walls of the place she had fought most of her life to try and avoid, now somewhere she had to be willingly. The little girl in Sylvie was shaking in anger and a bit of fear, surrounded by concrete walls and dull oranges and blues. Meanwhile, Loki and everyone else seemed content with it, content with living in this place that was more of a maze than a home. Mobius traced the walls absentmindedly with his hand when they walked, and even Loki seemed to be able to navigate the place without confusion. Sylvie had never felt so lost before.
Mobius. She huffed, trying to quell her anger before it reared its head. It wasn’t his fault that he was a puppet, a toy being played with and manipulated, but she had thought him to be smarter than to sit complacently while timelines were vanquished. Hell, one of them was probably his own- somewhere out there he had family, maybe kids or a lover or whatever, and he preferred to just eat pie while lives were destroyed.
Without thinking she angrily slammed her fist into whatever was next to her. The metal of one of the microwaves bent, and it sprung open. The door let out a defeated ding as the pie inside was exposed to the outside air. The scent of lime was quite strong.
Sylvie took the pie out with both hands, and held it up to her face. “What are you looking at?” She growled.
Great. This place was making her talk to pie.
Sylvie left the room, pie still in hand. She didn’t want to waste food, although she wasn’t sure it could spoil with the strange way time worked here. She would just dump it on someone’s desk and be rid of it. That was, if she could find her way back to the main part of the building. Each corridor just confused her more than the last.
After a minute or two of wandering, she found herself in the hallway that led back to the place where O.B. and Victor were working on solutions for the loom. She breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, at least she knew where she was going. The tapping of her shoes echoed through the mostly metal hallways. She turned a corner, seeing the familiar path leading to the room the others were in.
Sylvie was about to keep walking, before she heard a small sigh and froze. There was someone around the corner, at what she believed to be a snack machine of some sorts. Anxiety flared up in her and she was immediately on high alert. While she wasn’t a fugitive like she was before, that didn’t mean that any uninformed member of the TVA would react too kindly to her lurking the hallways by herself. She held the pie with only her left hand now, and with her right she put her hand on the machine and peeked around the corner.
Standing there, leaning on the wall perpendicular to the machine, was Mobius. He was staring gloomily at the floor, one hand rubbing at his temple. Sylvie froze, just staring at him for a second. He must have felt her presence as well, seeing as the agent lifted his head quickly to make eye contact with her, removing his hand from his head.
There was awkward silence for a second as they both looked at each other. Mobius broke it by coughing into one of his hands.
“Sylvie, hey!” His voice cracked and he pointedly avoided eye contact with her. “O.B. and the others are down that way, I was on my way there and I… well I just stopped to get a-“ he pointed at the machine with his thumb and then paused, widening his eyes. “I mean, no, I didn’t come to get a hot chocolate, that would be silly and, uh, insensitive of me to do that right now and-“
“Mobius,” Sylvie interrupted him. She had a feeling that he would keep rambling himself into holes if she let him continue. “It’s fine. Have a hot chocolate, if you want one.”
Mobius pursed his lips. “No.”
Sylvie blinked at him. “No?”
“I’m good. I don’t want one.” The agent coughed. Sylvie furrowed her brow.
“Mobius, you clearly want one. Just have one.” Said Sylvie.
“I told you, I’m good. Not in the mood. It’s a little warm here.” His tone was nonchalant, and it made Sylvie growl a bit in the back of her throat. She put a cup into the machine, and slapped the button for hot chocolate. Steam rose as the liquid filled the foam cup. Mobius seemed surprised at her outburst.
The two of them stared at each other until the cup filled and the drips from the spout tapered off. Sylvie motioned to it.
“Drink it.”
Mobius coughed again. “No.” He paused. “Thank you. No thank you.”
Sylvie threw her hands up into the air, exasperated. “Why are you so damn stubborn?”
“Coming from a Loki, that’s rich.” Mobius murmured. Sylvie ignored him.
“Is this a pride thing, or what? You won’t drink the hot chocolate because you think it saves this?” She gestured to his uniform. “Because it keeps your pride intact? Is that it?” Mobius gave her a confused look.
“No! What? No! This isn’t- it’s not about me Sylvie,” He lowered his voice a bit, and Sylvie could have sworn he was being shy. “It’s about you.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?” The agent sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Listen, Sylvie, we don’t really have an amicable relationship- totally my fault by the way- and we don’t see eye to eye most of the time.” Mobius sighed. “But what you said back there, it doesn’t matter if I agree or disagree with it. What matters is how you feel. What I’m trying to say is that I’m giving up pie. And snacks.”
Sylvie liked to think she was pretty intelligent; however, in that moment, she felt the cogs in her brain spinning to try and figure out what was being said to her. She opted to try to make more sense of the situation by contributing her input.
“Huh?” Sylvie said. Mobius chuckled a bit, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief second.
“Sorry, I’ll try to be less confusing. What I’m saying is, you see me eating the pie as a sign of disrespect towards the dire situation we’re in right now. And while for me, it isn’t that, it is that for you. So, if it makes you uncomfortable, then I will refrain from snacking while we are dealing with important matters.” He huffed as he finished, having said all that in one breath.
Sylkie blinked. “You’re not going to eat pie anymore.”
“Only when we’re dealing with important stuff,” Mobius defended. “Rest of the time, pie is fair game, alright?”
“You’re not going to eat pie anymore,” she continued. “For me?”
Mobius gulped. “In a way, yes. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. And you.”
Sylvie felt a tight feeling in her chest, but it was warm and pleasant. It wasn’t like when she saw a beautiful man or woman and felt herself being attracted to them. It was the way she felt with Jack, a sort of deep bond that had nothing to do with godhood or sibling ship or love or any of that.
What Mobius had said, it was- extremely emotionally intelligent was the only way to describe it. It showed a sensitivity that Sylvie never had expected from a member of the TVA. Not that she was the expert on emotions or anything; Sylvie knew her flaws regarding feelings and had recently been trying to mend them a bit.
For a while Mobius to her was an enemy, then a sort of side character to her and Loki. She felt embarrassed, but humans lived such short lives that getting too attached to them wasn’t something that they had ever taught her. But Mobius wasn’t human in the traditional sense, was he? Now she understood why Loki kept him around; it wasn’t just because he was a direct link to the TVA, but it was because he enjoyed Mobius’s company. And now, the idea of having Mobius around was starting to seem fine by her.
Mobius seemed to figure out she was having an epiphany and stood there, watching her curiously. Sylvie felt her face flush a bit. She grabbed the hot chocolate cup with her free hand and shoved both it and the key lime pie into Mobius’s face.
“You should eat this,” she blurted out. “Now. I want you to eat this.” Sylvie cringed at the way it sounded like an order. Mobius looked extremely confused.
“Did you have that pie with you the whole time?” He asked.
“Yes. Long story. Broke the door of a microwave. Anyways, eat it.” Sylvie paused. “Please.” She added, after a second or two. Mobius titled his head a bit, eyesight rapidly flickering from the food to her.
“You don’t have to do this,” he put his hands up in a defensive manner. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad-“
“Shut up,” hissed Sylvie. “Pie makes you feel good, right?”
Mobius nodded. “And it would help with the stress of our current situation?”
He paused, and then nodded again.
Sylvie let out a deep sigh. “Then, I hereby rescind my earlier comments, and as so you should not feel guilty for wanting to have the pie. In fact, I am actively encouraging you to have this pie.”
Mobius’s face lights up, like a kid opening a present. “You mean it?” Sylvie nodded. Mobius reaches out, hands shaking, for the two consumables. Sylvie winces as the warmth of the hot chocolate cup leaves her hand suddenly. Mobius takes the food, and sinks to the floor until he’s sitting cross legged. It’s like he’s forgotten that she’s there at all, completely engrossed by his pie and hot chocolate. Sylvie feels a bit awkward, and she goes to leave, but Mobius puts the hot chocolate cup down in front of him and then pats the space next to him.
“Sit?” He asks gently, as if he’s worried he might scare her away. Sylvie bites her lip, thinking about refusing, but seeing as they were both just a bit vulnerable with each other she finds it impossible to refuse. The god nods, sitting down next to him with her legs pulled up to her chest. She grimaces a bit as a piece of her hair gets caught on a sticky substance on the wall behind her. Mobius takes a sip of the hot chocolate, then holds the pie up to his face so he can take a careful bite.
“No fork,” Sylvie sighs. “Sorry.”
“It’s ok.” Says Mobius, through a mouthful of pie. Though he looks more content now, there is definitely still a bit of weariness weighing on him, his eyes still a bit misty. Sylvie still feels awkward, and while she usually doesn’t know what to say in these sorts of situations she definitely feels like she should say something.
“Loki was rather sore with me,” she admits. “Said that you were trying to see in the dark like the rest of us, and I get that.” Mobius nods, swallowing the bite of pie that he had in his mouth. “He really cares about you, you know.” Mobius darts his head up, a smile suddenly on his face.
“Really? I mean, uh,” he goes a bit red and hides himself with one hand. “You think so?” Sylvie finds herself smiling a bit as well.
“Totally. If he didn’t care about you, he definitely wouldn’t be here right now. He’d be trying to go solve this whole problem on his own or something.” It’s what she had tried to do, after all. Makes sense that an alternate version of herself would have the same track of mind as her.
Mobius seemed pleased by this answer, his chest puffing up a bit in pride. He no longer looked so let down, so somber. The atmosphere was still heavy, but the tension had been relieved a bit.
They sat there quietly for a bit, content to just bask in the moment. Sylvie sort of understood what Loki was getting at now; with Jack, after being with him for just a little while, she felt a sort of protectiveness over the human. She knew it was silly- they lived short lives. But she was starting to see how they changed people. How Loki let himself be changed.
Jack had told her in training to be nice to customers, no matter what- that you never knew what they were going through. Here, with Mobius, she felt like she was starting to understand that sentiment a little bit.
As Mobius finished his pie, Sylvie stood up. She reached her hand out, offering it to him, and the older man looked surprised but pleased as he pulled himself up.
“So,” Sylvie said, hand still clasped in his. “What do we do now, Agent?”
Mobius grinned. “One of us gets Loki and the other one checks on the others. I’m sure they’re almost finished by now.” Sylvie felt a smile grow on her face in response.
“You get him. You know this place better than me, anyways.” Sylvie admitted, letting go of him before marching towards the room where his- their friends were. She could feel him watching her as she turned the corner and left.
-
Loki was searching through files, trying to be at least a bit helpful during this time. He stopped as he heard the familiar tapping of work loafers approaching him.
“Mobius?” He said, surprised that his friend was back so soon. “You seem to be in a good mood. You okay?”
The agent smiled in response. “Never better. Let’s head back, I’m sure they’re waiting for us. Oh, real quick-“ Mobius digs into his pocket before pulling out a pen, which judging by the color was filled with the familiar TVA orange colored ink. “Do you happen to have a piece of paper I could use?”
-
Loki was the God of Stories now.
Though Sylvie was grateful for the sacrifice, truly, it still left a sour taste in her mouth. It wasn’t fair, really it wasn’t- but it was fitting for a god, for a Loki. To create joy by not being, that was their purpose.
But Loki did exist. And he did create joy, her brain supplied, but it was quashed as she spotted her reflection in the puddles in the ground. McDonald’s was closed now, and she was about to head home. It had been a couple of months since Loki left, and she hadn’t seen Mobius since he said he would let time pass.
Sylvie frowned, a bit angry with herself. She was happy, really, and she knew that Loki wouldn’t have done it if he wasn’t satisfied with his choice, but something told her that Mobius wasn’t happy or satisfied in any way.
Humans got attached quite quickly, Sylvie had learned. Just a week ago, she had found Jack crying quietly in the walk-in. He had been accepted to his dream college, but was upset that he would have to leave the place where all his family and friends were. She had put her hand on his shoulder then, comforted him as the emotions spilled out of him.
Promise me you’ll send letters, alright? Jack had sniveled. Sylvie promised.
When she got back home that night she turned on the radio to some soap opera broadcast, a woman wailing about her lover being sent away. Sylvie had paused then, and stared at the radio curiously.
For humans, leaving is worse than dying. She had realized then.
So tonight, next to her car, she opened her Tem pad and typed in Mobius’s coordinates. Sylvie hadn’t told him, but she had turned on the location for his Tem pad so she could see where he was. Loki would want it. When he had stared back at her through the door, gaze flicking from her to Mobius and back to her, an unspoken message had been communicated as their eyes reflected each other.
Take care of him for me.
Stepping into where it said he was, Sylvie realized that that was easier said than done. She was in an apartment, typical of American cities, but the place was practically blank. Old stains were visible on the walls, and there was trash on the floor, more than seemed typical of a usually composed Mobius. It was nighttime, and the only light in the apartment was the bright glow of a television set in front of an old red couch. The smell of dust mingled with the scent of booze in the air. She walked over to the couch, and looked over its edge to see Mobius sleeping on his side in what seemed like a work uniform. He wore khakis and a red t-shirt, with a crooked name tag adorning the left side of his chest. The right side had white letters and a symbol; Target. His shoes were still on and there was a blanket that now lay forgotten on the floor.
Sylvie just watched him for a second, the glow of the television illuminating his sleeping features. There were bags under his eyes, quite noticeable ones, and he seemed to be shivering, the chilly Midwestern air leaking in and adding to his misery.
She walked over to the other side of the couch, noting that there wasn’t even a coffee table, and lifted the blanket onto Mobius. Unfortunately, she knocked over a can of beer in the process, and she sucked in a breath as Mobius awoke.
He didn’t seem shocked or scared; rather his eyes fluttered open slowly, as if he was typically woken up in such a friendly way. His blue eyes drifted over to meet Sylvie’s gaze, and he smiled while she sucked in a breath.
“Sylvie,” he rasped, looking like he was seeing an old friend for the first time in years. “You’re here.”
Sylvie smiled at him. “Mobius.” She said simply, acknowledging him. Her hand went up to pull the blanket around his neck, but he stopped her by sitting up suddenly.
This close, she could smell the cheap alcohol on his breath and hear the slow beating of his heart, like he had just woken from a coma. He teared up, reaching his hand up to his own face.
“I’m sorry you have to see me like this, Sylvie.” Mobius chuckles, avoiding her gaze. The god moves to sit on the couch next to him. “All of your guy’s hard work and sacrifices and here I am, moping about my life, just because I miss him-“
Sobs begin to wrack his body, and Sylvie puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“I just, I think I’m getting better and then- I see him when I fall asleep and we’re laughing and talking like nothing happened, and I swear he speaks to me but then I wake up-“ he shifts towards her slightly, entering more of her space but not daring to touch or hug her. She doesn’t move to hug him either. She understands- she’s a friend, but not Loki. She isn’t what he wants right now. “Sometimes I wish I didn’t wake up.”
“I know, Mobius.” Sylvie whispers, a twinge of sadness moving across her chest.
“It just isn’t fair,” he sobs, voice wavering as the sleep wears off and the emotions set in. He puts his hands over his face, like he’s trying to contain his sadness. But it’s too big for his body, too big for anyone to handle. A tear escapes his palms and Sylvie watches as it drips down Mobius’s chin, soaking into his pants and leaving a stain.
“It just isn’t fair.” Sylvie echoes him, closing her eyes and clenching her fist into his shirt as the television buzzes in the background.
-
B-15 just couldn’t bring herself to get it fixed. Some workers complained it was an eyesore, with its broken door, but there were more important things to do. Besides, there were never so many people wanting pie that every microwave had to be in use. She was saving some poor maintenance worker the trouble of coming up here just to fix a stupid microwave door.
Besides, fixing it meant removing the note.
Taped to the top of the microwave, now exposed with its door hanging off the hinges, there was a piece of white paper taped. It was a note, written in orange ink and scrappy handwriting:
Sorry about the microwave, I broke it on accident. I’ll have it fixed ASAP.
-Mobius