Confessions
"Have you ever tried pancakes?"
Loki's eyes crawl from the water droplets spilled on the Mobius' clumsy kitchen table to the figure standing over the counter. Mobius' eyes shine in innocent hope, and Loki shakes his head.
"Ah, well. You'll love em." Mobius turns his back to the table, shuffling in between the shelves and drawing out ingredients.
"What's that? I hope they aren't too sweet." Loki pipes in, laying his hands over each other.
It doesn't feel particularly constricting to be in Midgardian clothing-- a black button-down shirt with thin white stripes, and loose jeans a darker shade of black. But he doesn't feel himself, either. He'd settle on different.
Mobius wears a pale green shirt with polka dots, and blue jeans. He turns back at Loki's question, face flushing in guilt.
"It is. Maybe. Not sweeter than what you've tasted before." He manages. Loki chuckles at the reference to the key lime pie he barely licked.
"But I've already extracted the flour so...you have no choice." Mobius finishes.
Loki leans back on the kitchen table, face flushing. He watches Mobius ready the pan, and pull a glass bowl towards him to crack the eggs. He laughs as he watches his friend struggle to get the eggshell to crack by pressing with two hands.
"You're terrible." Loki laughs, standing. He pushes the chair forward with a creak. Mobius pauses, and turns back to the God.
Loki walks up to the counter, extending a hand and easing an egg from Mobius' hand. He captures it in his fist. He grabs another egg from the basket, holding it in a similar fashion.
"Watch." Mobius' eyes fixate on Loki as he flawlessly cracks two eggs in one hand each. He does the same with the remaining two, pushing the bowl towards Mobius.
"Unreal." Mobius remarks, and the unbridled amazement on his features makes Loki break out in a laugh.
“Anyone could to that.” He deflects, leaning his back against the kitchen counter.
“I couldn’t, clearly.” Mobius chuckles, moving to beat the eggs. Once they’re creamy, he adds all the other ingredients. Loki watches him intently, pithing in whenever necessary, because Mobius is clearly a bad cook.
There’s something about this moment, something so small yet so impactful. It makes Loki want to forget all his worries and problems and the mounting calamity and just focus all his attention on living this moment. With Mobius.
It soothes and scares him equally, the joy.
If Mobius feels the same way, he seems to be hiding it well.
Once they’re done cooking, Loki offers to take the plates to the kitchen table. Loki and Mobius sit opposite each other, just like they used to at the TVA. Mobius pulls his plate towards himself in childlike enthusiasm. He digs his fork into them, ripping up a haphazard piece and shoving it into his mouth.
The dining room has muted peach wallpaper, stained appropriately for a family with two kids. The furniture is laid out, not untidily, but the room still feels stuffed. The table is small, and it seems to shake unsteadily at their movements. The design is elegant, though, a glossy mahogany.
It’s a quaint yet beautiful home. He’s glad Mobius found it.
“Loki.” Mobius calls, and Loki looks to the analyst to see that he’s cleared half his plate already. “Tell me how they are.”
“Okay.” He nervously picks up his fork, and cuts out a small bite. He raises it to his lips. Loki puckers his lips, tilting his head at Mobius.
“It’s…okay.”
“Okay?” Mobius gives a vaguely disappointed shrug. “Seems to me like it’s spot-on.”
Loki gapes at him as he finishes his plate in two mouthfuls.
“Mobius.” Loki says, his tone serious. Mobius, seeming to recognise the weight of his voice, looks up to meet the God’s eyes.
”Yes?”
”What’s this Variant really looking for?” He questions, his grip tightening around the fork. “If it was control over the Timelines, why didn’t he strike sooner? And I thought the He Who Remains’ did have control of time before Sylvie killed them.”
”Well…” Mobius exhales. “Sometimes it’s a bit more complicated than that. Are all Variants really the same?”
”They aren’t…” Loki sighs. "Every He Who Remains is different in some manner. And what really gets me is that some of them are actually innocent. Timely was. It's like they're different people entirely."
"Variants are the same being, same personality, being honest by different environments." Mobius explains. "Take you and Sylvie, for example. You've more..arrogant and impulsive-"
"Hey."
"-because you've grown up in a castle. You've always had servants, disciples, and whatnot. Sylvie's had to carve her own path as long as she's known. So she's more likely to think her plan through."
"I asked for insight. Not depreciation." Loki complains, tossing his fork onto the table.
"I'm just sharing my view of what might be going on in this Variant's head." Mobius defends, raising his arms a little. "Think about it. He's worked in the TVA, which he knows was built by one of his own Variants."
"There has to be a reason for that." Loki theorizes. "Maybe he was working at the TVA to gather information. Maybe....maybe he was planning this from the very beginning."
"Well then, what took him so long? What exactly was he waiting for?" Mobius murmurs.
Loki turns his head to the side, his mind racing, when he hears a clink of the fork at his plate. He shifts back to see Mobius, with his fork plucking a small bite of one of Loki's pancakes.
Loki shoots him an incredulous look, and Mobius heaves a small huff. "It's not like you're eating it anyway." He complains, closing his mouth over the fork.
"Mobius?" Loki says again.
"Strike away."
“I met Don.”
”You- sorry, what?” Mobius snaps, surprised. He has never mentioned the name Don to Loki.
“I- I started to Timeslip again." He blurts out, watching the other man's features contort in surprise. "But you didn’t see it, because I changed the past.”
”You what?” The fork slips from Mobius’ hand, landing on the table with a clatter. “Wh-the past? What did you change?”
Loki isn’t sure if he should’ve brought this topic up, but decides to go on so as to eliminate his friend’s growing confusion. “Listen carefully.” He says, leaning forward. “Remember when we brought Victor Timely to the TVA? Originally, when Timely went into the Loom, the attempt was unsuccessful. Timely died. Right in front of our eyes.”
Mobius’ eyes bulge. He swallows, waiting for the God to continue.
“And then the Loom exploded. You were all reset, sent back to our original timelines. I was the only one at the TVA and it…began to disintegrate.” Loki sighs heavily, pushing past the heavyweight of fear that hung to him with the memory.
”Disintegrate?” Mobius repeats in a whisper.
”And I- I thought I was gonna disintegrate too, and then I Timeslipped. It continued to happen at random till I ended up where OB was. OB…He was the first one to believe me. He built me a Tempad, and I gathered all of you together.”
”You mean us, as our branched timeline selves?” Mobius questions.
”Yes.” Loki nods. “Gods, it was so difficult to get you to believe me. You threatened me with a wench.”
Mobius lets out a huff of genuine laughter. “No way.”
Loki rolls his eyes. Mobius regards him with a sceptical look.
“And you’re telling me all this now?” He asks, his features tense.
“I didn’t exactly have time, did I?” Loki defends.
Mobius nods, seeming to accept the reality. They sit in silence for a while, gathering their branching thoughts. Loki leans back in his chair. His eyes squeeze closed, for just a moment, concealing them from the world. From Mobius. Letting his worries creep through him. He opens them with a snap.
“Mobius…I’m glad you’re okay. I’m glad you’re doing well.”
Even though I’m not.
“Everything that I did…building Yggdrasil, protecting the timelines, it was partly selfish. It was for what I wanted.” He confesses. It feels like easing the weight off his chest.
”Which was?” He quirks his brow.
”Y-your safety. And that of our friends.”
He lets the words hang in the air, the heaviness seeping into both men. He looks to Mobius, who looks utterly touched. Both are too overwhelmed to say anything. They don’t need to talk, though. They know each other too well to require verbal validation.
It hurts, sacrificing so much for a person and still not being able to have them.
”Please be happy, Mobius. Please live your life to the fullest. I’ll feel….fulfilled if you do.” Loki lets out after a long time.
Be happy, even though I drown forever in your memories.
For a brief moment, something very close to sadness flickers through Mobius’ eyes. At that moment, those glassy orbs seem like a mirror— all the grief running through his heart being reflected back. But it stays there for only a little while before his jovial demeanour rides through.
”I’ll try.”
Loki nods frantically.
And in the end, Mobius ends up eating more of Loki’s pancakes than Loki does himself. Loki considers that a win-win situation.
Because he found the pancakes terrible.
*****
When Fraser approaches the Tree again, Loki isn’t there.
What a shame, he thinks, for it would’ve been fun to slaughter the Variant who stood in his way before he took the reins in his own hands, took back what was his. He would kill Loki later. For now, he focuses on fulfilling the second desire.
The Tree seems different- more dense, standing proudly in the inky sky. Its branches glimmer a bright green, and it sways as if alive. It seems like the sole constant in the vast expanse. Even Fraser’s deranged mind finds the sight enchanting.
He attempts to part the Tree using his powers. It doesn’t work, and Fraser is thrown around like a rag. He makes several attempts, for he is not one to give up easily, but it doesn’t seem to work. His senses ignite in rage once again.
But he cannot afford to have another meltdown.
Fraser toils and brainstorms. The anger that flared upon finding his life’s goal unfulfilled dissolves into subdued scheming. Fraser is sure there would be a loophole, a place they didn’t look, one which he can cease.
And he finds it right where it all started— the Tesseract.