chapter 11
Loki raised his hands, fully aware that he hadn’t any real power to defend himself. He was rooted in place and hardly dared to breathe as Renslayer edged closer.
His eyes were fixed on the ret-can. The end glowed amber and emitted a low buzz, the sound growing as it neared him.
Mobius side-stepped in front of Loki, readying himself to dive in the way if necessary. He lifted his hands placatingly, trying to communicate without words for Renslayer to calm down.
She laughed.
“There’s no need for any of that. I’ll give you until this afternoon to say your goodbyes,” she said, waving her hand in dismissal, and deactivated the ret-can.
“And why would you do that?” asked Loki, “To drag out my suffering?”
Renslayer rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored Loki. She turned to face Mobius before speaking.
“Believe it or not, I consider you to be a dear friend, Mobius. Clearly, you have been influenced by the variant-” Loki scoffed in disbelief “-and so I am willing to give you another chance to prove your commitment to the TVA.”
She stepped forward. As she offered the ret-can to him, he merely watched in silence.
Loki held his breath, anxiously awaiting Mobius’ decision.
Despite the nature of their relationship, of the things that were almost said and kept on the tip of their tongues, Loki wasn’t entirely sure what Mobius would choose to do.
It would be a smart move to accept the ret-can and secure his own safety. It would be a betrayal as sudden as any of Loki’s, but for reasons that he could understand.
With that thought in mind, Loki relaxed slightly. If Mobius chose to prune him, he wouldn’t hold it against him. He thought that he might even be proud of the treachery, after all it would mean that he had learned from the best.
And most importantly, it would ensure that Mobius lived. That was a sacrifice worth making.
Mobius watched the ret-can’s handle gleam under the fluorescent light, a cruel temptation to put an end to the uncertainty and fear.
She was offering a way out. Not just to escape the wrath of the TVA, but also an escape from living a life spent with Loki. To escape a life potentially filled with chaos and destruction, of being deceived and abandoned by the god of mischief.
But it could also mean discarding a life of happiness and companionship, of the pair changing for the better, growing together as they navigated the treacherous twists and turns of whatever fate the timeline held for them. Even if they had to run for the rest of their lives, Mobius wouldn’t give that up for anything.
He had decided that he would do everything in his power to stop Loki from being pruned, regardless of what lay ahead. He would defend him until his last breath.
Renslayer frowned at his continued stillness and she began to speculate the extent of the manipulation that the agent had undergone. Loki lacked access to his powers, so it was a mystery to her as to how he could have such a great effect on a dedicated analyst like Mobius. She was determined to have Mobius return to his senses, and wondered if she could bring him back by convincing him to dispose of the variant himself. Perhaps that would break this peculiar enchantment.
“Do it yourself. Prune the variant. Everything can go back to the way it used to be,” she insisted, offering a reassuring smile, but her brows were drawn with tension.
Renslayer focused on Mobius with an intense stare, pinning him in place.
As she scrutinised him, Mobius kept his hands by his sides. The hopelessness he felt was overwhelming, to the point where he couldn’t speak. He had made up his mind to protect Loki, but he could see no way to do that.
He felt as though he were watching the events unfold at the other end of a tunnel. Their voices were faint and his vision spun as panic settled over him.
There was a moment of silence, the tension palpable, before Renslayer withdrew the ret-can. She hung it at her hip with a disappointed sigh.
“It would have been easier if you did it yourself,” she said. “It doesn’t matter, I suppose. He’ll die either way.”
Renslayer shrugged and adjusted her jacket, before striding out of the cell. She paused in the hallway, looking back at Mobius. She opened her mouth to speak, but snapped it shut, turned on her heel and walked out of the room.
Mobius watched her go, his feelings swelling with each fading footstep until they consumed him. His hands trembled and tears stung his eyes. A lump formed in his throat as his pulse hammered in his ears.
In the quiet that followed, Loki let out a sigh of relief.
“I thought it was going to end, right there and then,” he chuckled darkly.
Mobius whipped his head around, glaring at him. His pale face turned red.
His fear melted into outrage and burning fury, making him clench his fists at his sides and straighten his spine.
“Do you think this is funny? Do you think this is a game?” he shouted. “You are going to die, Loki!”
Loki pursed his lips, burying the pain that Mobius’ words brought him.
He didn’t want to die. He had spent a great portion of his life specifically avoiding that, doing whatever was necessary to keep death at bay.
To give up now seemed absolutely absurd, but he could see no other way.
“I know,” he said softly, “but there isn’t much we can do about it. We only have two options: let Ravonna kill me, or you kill me yourself.”
“I would never-”
Loki held up a hand to interrupt him.
“I only meant that she’s right - either way, I am going to die, by her hand or yours. And I would not ask that of you.”
And he meant it.
He believed that Mobius killing him would likely bring him more comfort - at least in that way, Mobius would be by his side until the end, and it would also mean that Renslayer and the time keepers would gain less satisfaction from his death.
But he couldn’t do that to Mobius.
Despite his insisting of being perfectly fine, Loki could see the toll that Mobius’ death had taken on him. It was understandable, he mused, but it meant that Mobius wasn’t himself. He was still being held by that fear and pain, and he deserved some time to heal.
To add the weight of killing a friend onto his already burdened shoulders would be selfish.
No. It would be best for a hunter to do it, perhaps Renslayer herself. Someone who wasn’t attached.
“We could-”
“Mobius.” Loki sighed, his shoulders hunching inwards. “As much as I love a daring escape,” he said with a rueful smile, “I refuse to bring you into it. You’re already being scrutinised due to your affiliation with me. I won’t allow you to tarnish your reputation any further. If we survive, you’ll be exiled, and if we’re caught, you'll be pruned along with me.”
He grasped Mobius’ hand, interlacing his fingers. He savoured the feeling, knowing that those were the last moments he had with him, the final moments he had at all.
He silently begged for more time.
He wanted to stuff his pockets full of seconds and minutes to deal whenever he wished, to spend each with Mobius and make him smile again. To put off this inevitable and final betrayal.
But Loki knew that was impossible, and so he decided that he would use his last moments to keep Mobius from harm. He would defend him until his last breath.
“I won’t let you die. Not again. So you let them do whatever they want to me, and you stay alive.”
Loki gave a weary smile that nearly broke Mobius’ heart. A deep despair settled over Mobius as he watched the man before him accept his death. The man who had always managed to survive, no matter the odds. The man who had such a fierce desire to live, he’d murder and betray the people he loved. And yet, he had given up.
Loki Laufeyson was defeated, at last.
The news may have been a relief for some, joyous to others. But for Mobius…
He couldn’t begin to comprehend the feelings it brought him.
He couldn’t imagine a future where the trickster no longer existed, where he wasn’t wreaking havoc or plotting grand schemes with his dramatic flair.
Mobius started to shake. He was drowning in his emotions, unable to determine what exactly he was feeling, but knowing that he was spiralling. The room was spinning and his face felt hot. His clothes seemed too tight and he tugged at his tie to loosen it.
Rage lanced through him, the only feeling that he could identify, and he latched onto it, letting it flood him until his vision turned red and his blood boiled.
He spun on his heel, his shoes squealing beneath him, and marched out of the cell, slamming the door shut behind him. It locked automatically, leaving Loki stuck inside, clenching the bars and yelling at Mobius to come back.
Mobius blocked it out, nearly running through the halls as he stomped to Renslayer’s office.
Loki stared at Mobius’ rapidly receding silhouette through the rails of the cell. He screamed for him to come back until his throat was hoarse and his fingers ached from being wrapped around the cold metal.
Energy spent, he slumped to the floor, leaning his head on the door.
Despite the sadness enveloping him, a tinge of relief brought him the slightest consolation. It was comforting to know that even when offered a way to save himself, Mobius would still place Loki above his own well-being. It was a comfort to know how much he cared.
By the time Mobius reached the ornate, wooden doors of Renslayer’s office, the anger had drained from him, leaving a cold dread in its wake. He paused outside with his hand resting on the brass handle, heaving in great gulps of air in an attempt to steady his racing pulse.
He steeled himself and pushed the doors open, sliding inside the room before they closed behind him.
Renslayer sat at her desk, casually reading through papers as though she hadn’t just announced to murder the man he cared for most. She stacked them into a neat pile, placing them down carefully, before acknowledging Mobius with a nod. Her fingers laced together in front of her.
“Mobius. What can I do for you?”
Mobius had planned on threatening Renslayer, demanding for her to alter her decision and let Loki live. However, as he stood before her, his rage doused with fear and dwindled to embers, he found that he was lost for words.
His tongue was thick in his mouth, unable to utter a single sentence as he scrambled to get his thoughts in order.
Renslayer watched him struggle, waiting in silence during the time it took for him to regain control.
After a heartbeat, Mobius stepped forward and his mouth opened. Instead of threats and demands, pleas poured out from his lips.
"Ravonna, please, don't prune him, I mean come on, he's-"
"He's what, Mobius?" She glanced up at him from her desk, taking in his dishevelled appearance. "He's useful?" she scoffed and carried on signing documents.
Mobius felt like he could scream. He wanted to kick her desk and force her to look at him. He held back, but only because he thought that it wouldn't work in his favour in the long term.
"Actually, he is. He's been working so hard, even you can't deny how his work ethic has changed, plus the amount we've managed to get through." He said, before taking a deep breath to calm himself, resting his hands on his hips.
"Oh he's been working hard alright," Renslayer murmured sarcastically.
Mobius' eyebrows furrowed together, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Mobius, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but he's been manipulating you."
"What?"
"Do you seriously think he cares about you? I saw you two in his cell. Don't try and deny it."
He froze, heart pounding. There was a long pause.
Fraternizing with a variant could get him into a lot of trouble, and if Renslayer knew about it then Mobius could be severely punished.
His palms began to sweat.
"Deny what?" he said, trying to sound noncommittal, but it came out strained.
She looked steadily at him.
"Your feelings for him. You're infatuated,” she said with a sneer, “it's disgusting."
Mobius felt his anger spike.
"He does care about me. Boy, you should have seen him when I was injured," he threw his hands in the air, "He felt real bad about it."
"It's all fake."
"No, it isn't! He-"
"The time keepers told me. They told me how he's playing with your feelings to get what he wants."
A second of silence.
"He wouldn't do that," he said, taking down the volume but the fury was evident.
"Oh come on, Mobius, that's all he does-"
"He's changed."
"You can't be certain of that."
She was beginning to raise her voice, her professional facade cracking.
"I can-"
“No you can’t! His entire existence is to lie, Mobius.” She laughed humorlessly, the sound sending chills down the agent's spine.
“Have you not seen what he’s done these past weeks? He’s-”
“Manipulated you? Yeah, I know.”
“Will you stop interrupting me?”
She slammed her hand on the table, knocking over a glass trinket he’d gotten her on a trip last week.
It shattered as it hit the wooden floor. Shards flew across the ground, but they were ignored as the temperature in the room continued to rise.
“Will you listen to me, then? I’m trying to help you-”
He growled, fingers pulling at his hair. He began to pace around the room. Glass crunched under his feet.
“By making me kill him? In what fucked up timeline is that helping me? God!”
“You can’t help the timekeepers when you’re being controlled by some… some variant!”
Mobius stopped his pacing and gaped at her.
“You don’t understand, do you? This is more than Timekeepers, Ravonna, this is about…”
She looked at him, challenging.
“About what?”
He didn’t reply.
“What's more important than the Sacred Timeline, Mobius?” She rose from her chair and moved slowly towards him, face showing her confusion and hurt. “It used to be us two, working together, upholding order. What’s changed?”
They stood opposite each other, she was pleading with him.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he grated out between gritted teeth.
She narrowed her eyes. “Understand what?”
Mobius just looked away, trying to work out a way this could end well. Wrong move apparently. She shoved his chest, ignoring the surprised “oof” he let out.
“Come on, Mobius, what wouldn't I understand?” she spat in his face, “What?”
He tried to quell the rage that was building once again, her anger overwhelming him and fuelling his own. He held up his hands between them to hold her back, as though his palms could stop the tide of her fury.
“WHAT?” she roared.
"THAT I LOVE THEM!"
He had snapped. Anger and pain and fear tore his insides and made him see red.
It was her turn to look shocked.
Renslayer stumbled back as though he had pushed her. Her eyes were wide and her mouth opened and closed, but no sound escaped.
“I love him, ok? I fucking love him and it hurts so much. But I wouldn’t give it up, not for the Timekeepers, not for the Sacred Timeline, and certainly not for you. Trust me, I tried.” He pinned her with a hard stare, daring her to say that he was being manipulated one more time.
The room was silent.
Mobius stopped breathing as he realised what he'd said.
He loved him.
The great, powerful god of chaos and mischief, murderer of many. But also the shy, insecure individual who tried hard to impress and liven up his day, beautiful wherever they decided they were on the gender spectrum.
He lowered his hands, letting out a shaky breath. He looked to see his friend's reaction.
Her face was carefully blank, eyes shuttered and betraying no sign of emotion. Only her rigid spine showed the tension she felt.
She walked stiffly to her desk, perching on the edge of her chair behind it.
A brief stillness blanketed the room as she warily contemplated her next words.
"You love him?" she asked finally, her voice cool.
Mobius nodded, lips clamped firmly shut.
He could feel his future dangling over a precipice. He had said all that he could, had admitted things to her that he had yet to completely admit to himself. Whatever she decided now would seal his fate, for better or for worse.
"He doesn't deserve you," she continued in the same monotone drawl. "He's infected you. You're not in your right mind."
"Please," he whispered.
Something in her eyes flickered and he felt the faint stirrings of hope. The hope that Renslayer would decide to spare Loki after all.
"Fine. You may see him." She stood up. "If you decide you still love him, we'll see what will happen."
Mobius smiled widely at her, his heart lighting up, "Thank you, Ravo-"
She held up a hand to silence him.
"Don't thank me yet."
She turned and walked sharply out the room, Mobius running after her.
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Meanwhile, Loki wasn’t fairing well in the cell.
He collapsed to the ground, the two hunters leering at him. He could taste the blood in his mouth.
“Not so powerful now, are you, Princy?” the long haired female sneered, choking him with the smell of her heavy breath. “Not now that Mobius isn’t here.”
She went to hit him, laughing as he flinched.
He seethed, glaring at the floor, but he couldn’t move. Normally he could take them out straight away, taking time to revel in their fear and pain, perhaps delivering a dramatic (but undeniably powerful) monologue before watching them die.
But not right now. Anything he did would reflect on Mobius. He may be destined to die, but Mobius still had a chance. He would take the pain for him.
A hand in his hair reminded him of the situation he was in. The other hunter slammed his face against the wall with a crunch. Pain exploded across his face as his nose shattered and his lip split. Tears dripped from his eyes as blood poured down his chin.
He spat blood from his mouth as he gasped for breath, unable to breathe through his nose.
The hunter snickered as Loki groaned.
“Where’s he gone now, Variant?” they murmured. “Has he finally realised he can’t always fix broken things?”
“Maybe it was his murderous spirit that put him off?” the female questioned her partner.
“It’s entirely likely,” they replied, “you know, I heard he killed his own mother.”
That hurt.
The other let out a dramatised gasp of shock, hand covering her mouth.
“What, really? That would put anyone off their pet.”
Loki felt his insides shrivel up.
He was worthless.
He’d always known it, why he ever tried to kid himself otherwise was beyond him.
Even Mobius knew it.
He’d watched every moment of Loki’s life so he knew how horrible he was, what a twisted person he’d become.
How could he ever love him?
The hunters released him, and he fell in a heap onto the floor. A foot connected with his ribs and he curled into a ball, panting. It struck again and he thought he heard something crack.
Suddenly, a booming voice startled the hunters, interrupting the fist that flew towards his face.
“Miss Johnson, Mx Pittman, what do you think you’re doing?” Ravonna barked as she marched in.
Mobius followed after her, eyes wild with anger as he glared at the two guilty hunters. When he looked at Loki though, his face changed to one of alarm. He ran to him, crouching down beside him.
He inspected Loki’s face, tentatively touching his swollen lip, eliciting a muffled hiss.
“Loki, sweetheart, are you ok?”
Loki just whimpered in reply, leaning forward and hiding his face in Mobius’ neck. The other man's touch calmed him, even though he knew it was a pathetic show of weakness. He just wanted to curl up on his lap and let everything else fade away.
Mobius carded his hands through Loki’s hair, surprised at the sudden show of vulnerability, but knowing instinctively what to do to help calm him.
“I need words, Loki, what did they do to you?” he said softly. “Where are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” he replied, voice small and muffled, breath warm on his neck, “Just give me a moment.”
Mobius’ arms tightened around him, pulling him closer. He was keen to bring Loki to the medical wing, but there were things that needed to be addressed first.
He murmured comforting words beneath his breath into Loki’s ear, before turning his eyes on the other three people in the room.
Ravonna was staring at him with an unfamiliar look. Her eyes softened when she saw the way Loki clung to him. The other two stood nervously, uncertainty obvious on their ashen faces.
“Can you take them outside, please?” Mobius asked Ravonna, his voice filled with barely contained fury.
They held eye contact for several moments, then she looked at Loki, and back to Mobius.
Slowly she stepped towards Loki and bent down to his quivering frame. She whispered something in his ear, and he froze for a few moments, before shaking his head vigorously. Stepping back, she held her hands together and turned to Mobius.
“You’re sure he’s not…” she hesitated, “changing you?”
He looked her dead in the eyes.
“I swear.”
She sighed and gave him a small nod.
“I will talk with them about their behaviour towards Agent Laufeyson,” she said.
And with a slightly puzzled smile towards him, she marched the two confused hunters out, leaving Mobius with a silent Loki, who was still hiding his face in his neck. He wanted to ask what Ravonna had told him, but he knew it wasn’t the time.
“As much as I’m enjoying this, we need to talk, Loki.”
With a small sniff, Loki slowly unwrapped himself from Mobius, but still avoided eye contact by looking at the floor.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Mobius looked at him, bemused. “What for? This isn’t your fault, Loki.”
Loki’s eyes snapped to him, showing the hatred and self loathing he was feeling.
Mobius felt his heart break. Very rarely did Loki show this side of him to anyone.
“Of course it’s my fault, It’s always my fault,” he sneered. “I get in the way and ruin everything. The TVA is built on order. I'm not meant to be here.”
Finished, he slouched down to hide his eyes filling with tears.
“No, kitten,” -the nickname slipped out, unplanned, but judging by the blush on his ears, Loki didn’t mind- “you don’t ruin everything. You have found so many answers, much quicker than any trained analyst. And while eating a salad in front of you is almost impossible, and your stubbornness is often a pain in the backside, you have helped me. A lot more than you think. And as for you getting in the way,” -he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively- “I don’t think I can complain too much.”
Loki let out a small giggle at this, wiping his snotty nose. He went to say something, but was prevented by the big yawn that escaped.
“Come on, let's get you to bed.” Mobius stood and held out his hand when Loki didn’t move.
“I’m not tired.” Loki huffed, crossing his arms childishly.
The silver haired man sighed, knowing from studying the files how the god gets when he feels threatened. He looked at his small figure, sat on the floor with his knees up, tension evident in his shoulders. Then he realised what the matter was.
“You can stay at mine again tonight, if you want?” he asked gently. “Maybe some hot chocolate and me droning on about jet skis will make you tired enough to take a nap?”
At this, Loki perked up and he scrambled to standing, taking Mobius’ hand. It was warm.
“You talking about anything could make anyone sleep, Mobius,” he announced, as if he wasn’t almost dead on his feet. “But what’s ‘hot chocolate’?”
Mobius just smiled at him, and led him down the corridor towards his apartment.