Not Your Future
When Loki wakes up, he feels as if he’s collapsing.
His right wrist burns with pain- he probably sprained it in the midst of the vision. His head feels tight and soggy. It throbs at his movements. His throat is dry from all the vomitting. The vision is still painted clearly in his mind.
He is certain that it is the Variant they’re hunting that projected the illusion forcefully into his mind, that of him extracting the Tesseract from a past version of himself. During the process, the illusion Loki got badly beaten up. Loki can almost taste the coppery blood that ran down his chin.
He turns his neck to the clock, and realises it’s past ten. Groaning, he forces himself off the sheets. The hot water bag that Mobius’ son Sean gave him is now a cold lump, and he tosses it aside as he stands. Loki scrambles out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
The living room is empty, and so is the kitchen. The kids must’ve left for school by now, and Mobius for work. Loki feels a twinge of loneliness at that, but who is he to disrupt the family’s schedule? He walks silently into the empty kitchen.
He leans his hand on the marble countertop, and there’s a prickle of pain in his wrist. He winces. Loki reaches the freezer, thumping his hand clumsily around till he finds an ice pack. He holds the cold bag of ice to his wrist, sharply closing his eyes at the freezing sensation against his burning skin.
He holds it there for a minute, feeling the ice numb the searing pain. There, in the corner of the empty kitchen, Loki wonders if he made the right decision by coming here. If Mobius is truly safe in his presence.
There’s a scuffling sound at the distance, followed by long footsteps. Loki startles, quickly ripping the ice off his wrist and stuffing it haphazardly into the freezer.
If Mobius came a second early, he would’ve seen Loki shut the door.
Loki steps forward, letting his wrist loll to the side, attempting to conceal the pain. Both physically and emotionally. Because, the moment he looks into those radiant eyes, he feels like breaking apart; he feels like drawing all the negativity out of himself, to vent it all out to Mobius till there is nothing secret between them.
But he holds still, and he focuses on what’s important.
”That was quite the nap, wasn’t it?” Mobius laughs, gesturing at his watch.
“Yeah.” Loki feels a little ashamed that he slept past everyone’s morning schedules.
“Try to get up earlier, please. It’s a hassle explaining to the boys why you get to sleep late while they gotta get ready for school.” Mobius warns, shaking his head in amusement.
“I will.” Loki nods weakly.
”I should be heading on to work now.” Mobius says, looking to the side. “But are you hungry? I can-”
”I’m not hungry.” Loki says honestly. He knows he should probably eat something, considering he expelled the contents of his stomach last night. But he decides to keep his mouth shut.
”Okay.” The analyst shrugs. “Guess I better get going, then.”
“See you.” Loki says, realising he’s got the rest of the day to himself.
And as much he doesn’t want to be alone right now, he knows the world won’t stop moving forward for him.
****
Time wasn’t always a monster.
And perhaps there is still a part of him, like the other face of an eclipse, that remains attached to his life before he discovered the multiverse. Before He Who Remains brought them together under the false promise of peace and then betrayed them.
All Time wanted was peace.
He has attempted, multiple times, to bring the Variants of Kang together to conquer realities. But that didn’t work. Some of them were lying pricks, some greedy black holes, and others, like Victor Timely, just plain confused.
Every Variant was smart, but not one of them was capable.
That’s why Time latched himself to a particular one. Fraser Baldwin, who he knew was the outlier of the group. He looked different, sounded different, perhaps by mutation. He knew Fraser would utilise him appropriately, that Fraser won’t let him down like Variants did.
He spent centuries hiding in the TVA, because Time told him to. Fraser had an insecurity, a crippling feeling only Time knew of. Fraser hated being left out. And admittedly, Time fed on that insecurity, driving Fraser further and further into insanity.
Fraser wasn’t a human anymore, he was a servant of Time.
Time wrapped itself around him in delicate threads, letting him think he was in charge. But Fraser was never the leader, not even of himself, or his own emotions. Time manipulated and abused him without his even knowing.
Time smiles in a snarky manner as he knocks on the door to the little hut. The night sky is a soft blanket over the village, adorned with patterns of stars. The air is cold, ruffling his long dark cloak. Time runs his hand through his- Fraser’s- strawberry blonde hair, waiting for someone to answer.
The door opens with a creak, and a woman is nestled among the shadows. She has long dark hair, and is wearing a frumpy blue dress. A witch hat rests clumsily at the top of her head. She regards him with scepticism, looking him up and down.
”Agatha Harkness.” Time greets in Fraser’s voice. “Pleasure to see you.”
”How’re you?” Before Time can say anything, Agatha shoves her hand against Fraser’s chest. Beams of blue light erupt from where her hand is pressed to Fraser’s tunic, feeling Time’s Aura. At last, Agatha stops analysing him, holding the door all the way open.
”A wizard.” She smiles.
Time nods, taking the invitation to step into the hut. It’s small, cluttered, covered in jars of potions and ointments. Books on witchcraft huddle on the tall shelves mounted on the walls. Agatha beckons him onto the couch, a small blue seat with dusty cushions facing the little thatch that passed for a kitchen.
”How may I be of help to you?” Agatha asks when they both sit.
”I’ve brought ill tidings for you.” Time confesses, resting his hands on his knees. “Along with a deal. If you accept-”
”What’s happening?” Agatha asks sharply.
”You’re gonna die.” Time says plainly, mustering Fraser’s best smile. He watches Agatha’s face twist into a frown, her body tensing.
“Wh- what’s the catch here?” She questions.
”The catch is that you won’t if you help me.” Time explains. “I know you have the Darkhold. I know you’re drawing spells from it.”
Agatha makes a sound of denial, but Time cuts her off.
”You’d be stupid to disagree with me here. I have seen the future, and they catch you. You get killed.”
Time lets that sink in, watching as the witch begins to quake. She knows better than to doubt his words; witches have an incredible sense of intuition. He lets her features fall in dismay and rise in the hope of his remaining sentence.
“If you help me, I’ll prevent that. I’ll set you free.” Time completes.
Even in the dark, Agatha’s pale, pronounced cheekbones and sharp silver eyes shine through. She pops her tinted lips. “What will I have to do?”
Time sighs.
“I’ll need the Darkhold.”
****
Sylvie steps out of the orange door, Tempad in hand, wearing her usual black costume under a hefty overcoat. Her thin blonde hair spills over her shoulders. “What is it?” She asks.
Loki watches the Timedoor whir to a close, and then turns back to his Variant. “He has the Tesseract.”
Sylvie doesn’t believe him instantly. She tilts her head to the right, glaring at him with beady eyes. “And how did you reach that conclusion?”
Loki gestures for her to follow him. Loki and Sylvie stroll across the paved road, soaking the balmy afternoon sun. Summers like this remind Loki of Asgard, of a childhood spent playing outside with Thor and the others, sneaking out of lessons, playing tricks on his family. It reminds him of the home that was snatched form him.
”Well?” Sylvie prompts, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her coat.
“He has the Tesseract.” Loki repeats at length. “He snatched it from my past self’s arms. I saw it happen with my own eyes.”
”Loki!” Sylvie exclaims. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Last night…” The God stammers. “I had a vision.”
“A vision…” Sylvie whispers. “What, you mean you actually perceived images of it happening?”
“Yes!” Loki says shrilly. “It was from his perspective, almost like I was him…”
“You sure it wasn’t a dream or something?” Sylvie confirms, turning fully towards him.
”No!” Loki cries, and it all rises to his throat: the pain, the desperation. “It…hurt. So much. Everything hurt.”
“Okay, okay, calm down.” Sylvie soothes, patting his shoulder. Loki’s emotional reaction seems to have convinced her of the reliability of his report. “Tell me, what did you see?”
”I was at…at this dessert, where I fled with the Tesseract, just before I was arrested by the TVA.” Loki explains as they walk. “The guy in my vision showed up, beat the hell out of- of my past self, and then walked away with the Tesseract.”
“Shit,” Sylvie lets out. “He’s got the Tesseract. And we’re sitting here relaxing!”
“Exactly!” Loki says firmly. “I need to-”
”Wait.” Sylvie’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Where’s Mobius? Why didn’t you bring him along?”
”He…” Loki sighs unsteadily. “He went to work.”
Sylvie scoffs. “You got an excruciating vision in the middle of the night, and he left you alone? Impossible.”
“Mobius doesn’t know.” Loki says in a low voice.
“What?” Sylvie exclaims, raising her brows. “Are you stupid?”
“Mobius doesn’t need to know the details.” Loki forces out. “He’s seen…felt…too much-”
“Mobius needs to know. Loki!” Sylvie halts to grab the God by the arm, and turn him fully towards her. “Do you have any idea how much he cares for you?”
”He shouldn’t!” Loki snaps, and his heart wilts in agony as he says it. “I may be his present, but I’m not his future!” He points to Don’s house in the distance. “You see that? That is his future, not me! That’s what he cares for the most.”
And he doesn’t feel for me the way I do for him.
”Loki…” Sylvie takes a step closer. “Does it bother you that it’s not you he truly loves?”
It does. In every shred of my being. “It-It shouldn’t.”
“Lok-”
“Enough.” He says, holding up a hand in front of her. When he does, his wrist prickles in pain again. He immediately puts it down. “That Variant is immensely powerful. And if we want to stop him, we start now.”
”So, what’s the plan?”
”I have a plan.” Loki murmurs, stepping out of the Godess’ hold. “I know where I was, in the vision. And I know when I was. It was 2012.”
“Gosh..” Sylvie presses her palm flat against her forehead. “Don’t tell me you’re going to-”
”I’m gonna verify the authenticity of the vision, by going there myself!” Loki says, looking to Sylvie. His fist is balled, and his eyes glimmer in excitement.
“You’re gonna Timeslip.” Sylvie sighs.
”Yup. If I can, I’ll get the Tesseract back. If I can’t, at least we know the vision was real. And if it was intentional.” Loki continues.
There are too many loopholes in his plan, but not enough time to address them all. Loki knows time can be manipulated, but if this Variant can travel back and forth in time, it seems like him and the TVA aren’t the only ones with those powers. He needs to find this person, whoever he is, and stop him for good.
“Loki, stop for a second.” Sylvie warns. “Don’t you think you’re going too fast?”
“I need to go fast, this Variant needs to be caught.” Loki argues.
The Goddess shakes her head. “I think you should talk it out with Mobius first.” She reasons.
”I- no.” Loki says stubbornly. “I’ll be back, at this very time. It’ll be like I never went. We can tell him after I’ve returned.”
”And if something happens to you?” Sylvie asks, tilting her head.
It’s rare, seeing her eyes shine with something close to care. Loki narrows his eyes. “I’ll give you my exact time and location. Just in case.”
”Good.” Sylvie pulls out her Tempad. After he’s shared the details, Sylvie steps away from him, and he heaves a long sigh. Loki fixes his jacket, then his hair, his mind reeling. His mind is a muddle of excitement and deep anxiety.
It’s for Mobius, he reminds himself. For everyone.
When wisps of brown dust begin to float around him, and his body convulses, ripping him from the current time, Loki allows himself to feel the small pang of regret that had repressed.