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Mobius can pinpoint exactly when it starts, down to the second. You learn to think like that in the TVA. The time that passes is immaterial, the never-ending work to keep the timeline stable, but the moments stick in your head. So it is that frozen in his memory is both the moment that he realized he was falling in love with Loki, and the moment he realized that he was going to be skipping lunch
It’s a really off-putting mixture of damn, he’s pretty when he’s excited and I’ve definitely lost my appetite.
He calls Loki ‘eager to please’. He means it halfway as an insult, but Loki is eager and Mobius finds himself surprisingly willing to be pleased. He doesn’t forget for a moment that Loki would also be eager to put a knife in his back. He says so himself, and Loki protests in a melodramatic but predictable huff. Before that, though, Mobius leans back, savors Loki’s pride over his theory and the grin it puts on his face, and he says, “Not bad.”
Loki’s eyes glimmer green at the praise with magic that has to fight to exist for even a moment here, but fight, it does. It’s gone, but crystallized like every other second of the conversation in Mobius’ mind.
Daggers, he reminds himself. Multiple daggers, in your back, without hesitation.
It’s funny, because he repeats it to himself a dozen times. When Loki looks over his shoulder at their buffet of apocalypses to choose from, and he immediately picks Pompeii. When he watches Loki doze off while they scan through case file after case file, and Mobius only wakes him up when he lets out a soft snore. When Loki questions him about the TVA afterwards, and when he gives more ground than he rightly should for how stubborn Mobius has come to expect him to act. When he sees Loki’s magic in person for the first time, and he feels something in him tense at the idea that it could quickly turn into something a lot worse than a quick drying off.
But when he protests, he doesn’t protest that strongly, does he?
“Why is it the people you can’t trust are always saying, ‘Trust me?’” The look Loki gives him at that, half insulted and half something else, half something far more vulnerable. Or is Mobius just seeing what he wants to see? Is that magic in Loki’s eyes because he’s glad to show off to Mobius or because he’s glad he’s a step closer to freedom? Is that look real, or is it so Mobius will back down, let him go, and lose him?
He does lose him, so maybe that answers the question.
But Loki looks back first. He looks back, and the expression on his face is hardly gloating.
“No! Wait, Loki!” Mobius yells. He thought knowing Loki’s life would give him the upper hand, enough information to trick the God of Tricks. All it does is tell him exactly what Loki will do next, no matter what Mobius yells. Loki does what he does best, and he escapes. The doorway closes. “Damn it!” There’s the dagger, and there’s Mobius’ back, and it hurts a hell of a lot more than he should let it. Much more than he dares to tell even Ravonna.
The worst part is that afterwards, it’s difficult to hate Loki for it. The betrayal part, that’s easy, and even a little of the resentment, and definitely the anger towards himself for being so lax — but hating Loki? That’s the part he can’t wrap his brain around.
It’s hard to be angry at a bird for fleeing the birdcage when he left the door open. Especially when he didn’t even have the foresight to clip its stupidly pretty wings. Just because it sang so sweet in there didn’t mean it was going to stay.
This is the kind of awful metaphor Loki would have made.
Mobius throws himself back into his work and resolutely does not think about birds or cages or anything of the sort. He’s pondering it again in less than twelve minutes.
This does, eventually, end in Loki getting captured again and the Variant to boot.
It’s possible that maybe he chooses a particularly cruel Time Cell to stick Loki in. It’s also possible that he feels a twinge of guilt watching it loop. If he does, he crushes it down deep.
He cages it up somewhere it can’t make him into a fool again.
(Mobius is turning out to be really bad at locking things up.)
No one else watches his interrogations, and that way he can get away with sniping at Loki more than is strictly necessary. It means he can take the dagger out of his back and push it into Loki’s face as much as he wants, even if it gets him nothing. Loki’s slippery, and he’s smart, and he thinks he’s learned how Mobius works in this room. So he switches tactics, and switches again when Loki lies to his face with every bit of confidence he can muster, and it’s only when he says they pruned the Variant that something sticks.
What Mobius feels is not jealousy.
What he feels is not jealousy and echoing Loki’s own guilty admittance earlier right back at him (“What an incredible seismic narcissist.”) is not lashing out. He’s angry because this is the kind of chaos that destroys timelines.
Or that creates timelines. Timelines that the TVA destroys. Has to destroy. For all time. Always.
What he’s not expecting is Loki’s response. Of all the snappy, witty, defensive, stubborn, and yes, narcissistic, comments he could make in response, what he says is, “Her name was Sylvie.” What he says is, “Is she alive?” That, Mobius thinks he can hate him for because that means Loki can care about someone but only his fun-house mirror self.
He throws Loki back into the time loop. The little twinge of guilt thrashes against its cage. He resolves not to think any longer about what Loki said, because he would say anything to escape. That works about as well as the last resolution he made.
If Mobius has learned anything from this, it’s that he has terrible taste in friends.
If he’s learned anything else, it’s that terrible taste has never stopped him from throwing every bit of his heart into something.
The plan is-
There is no plan.
But the goal is: Loki, Sylvie, nexus event, Time Variance Authority goes poof. It’s a very good goal. Solid.
“Do you believe you deserve to be alone?” Mobius cuts to the quick of it, and Loki reacts like he slapped him to attention. Mobius needs him here, now. He’s not going to be able to do this alone. He doesn’t want to do this alone.
“Do you swear she didn’t implant those memories in Hunter C-20?”
“Mobius, no. I believe her.” Loki sounds more genuine than he ever has before, and Mobius doesn’t know if its to convince him or because he really believes her and couldn’t lie about this if he wanted to.
“So, I just have to trust the word of two Lokis?” It still stings, a little. But not so much when Loki responds,
“How about the word of a friend?” The moment crystallizes. There is desperation on Loki’s face, and determination, and there’s trust that he wants Mobius to reflect back to him. There is a glimmer of green in his eyes that is eager to please, and Mobius doesn’t choose to trust him. That would imply there’s a choice. It simply is, and he won’t regret it this time.
Not even when they walk out of the time loop right into Ravonna’s waiting arms. Renslayer doesn’t have a dagger, but he learns that pruning burns from the inside out. It feels like dying.
And then he doesn’t die, which is... weird.
And he wakes up somewhere he’s never seen before, leaning back against a rusted hot dog stand that has a bite taken out of it, which is weirder.
And when he stands up and looks around, there’s a giant horrible smoke-void-dragon thing, which is the weirdest part and he has a feeling that if it sees him, he will die, something he’d rather not happen twice in the same hour. He picks a car that looks like it’s falling apart but thankfully isn’t, and he gets the hell out of Dodge.
He didn’t have a plan before. He didn’t even have a goal now.
What he does have, though, is either amazing or terrible Loki-related luck, depending on the perspective.
Sylvie’s got Loki’s sharp tongue and his need to get the last word, but she’s quieter. When they’re out of the danger zone, she doesn’t start to monologue at him or to even ask his name. She just turns and stares out the window back at that... thing like she could dissect it from afar. It’s unnerving.
“So, Ra- Renslayer got you. Gotta be honest, I didn’t think you’d go down that easily.” He has to break the silence. It’s getting to him, and the car radio probably won’t be nice enough to spit out some smooth jazz to lighten the mood if he turns it on. He decides he doesn’t actually want to know what sound it would make if he did. If it even still works. Sylvie turns to look at him. He can see her splintered reflection in the rearview mirror, which is made of cracks with some glass in between.
“I didn’t. I ‘got’ myself. It was a tactical retreat.” She must look at everything like she’s taking it apart. He tries not to feel put off by it. “And besides, she pruned Loki first.” She has the same tone of voice Loki used when he boasted, if a little more measured.
“I take it that makes you the superior Loki, then.” She frowns, and he corrects himself. “Or, it’s Sylvie, right?”
“Who told you that?”
“Who do you think?” And at that, she smiles. It’s quick, not that big, but it’s real. Her eyes light up with the same green Loki’s do, but Mobius doesn’t get the feeling that it’s for anyone but herself. He can’t imagine her being eager to please anyone. He can imagine her stabbing someone in the back, easily, but he thinks he’s no longer on the list of people she’d do that to.
She smiles, and it’s as beautiful as it is dangerous. Mobius blinks, and the smile is gone, and she is looking away again. He blinks again, and he knows he can pinpoint exactly when it starts all over again. At least driving away from certain death together was slightly more romantic than a ruined salad.
There’s a new plan, and it’s Sylvie’s this time. That really should be the part Mobius is focusing on.
He’s not, though. He’s a little too caught up in watching them. Sylvie and Loki, the way they orbit each other, the way they bicker, picking up the similarities and the differences. They have the same imperious smirk, the same need to interrupt with a little quip they think is very clever, and occasionally, they even stand the same way.
They aren’t mirror images, but they could never be mistaken for different people either. They are, almost, two halves of a whole, except the halves overlap and the whole is not a circle, but a lopsided hexagram. This is another metaphor Loki would have come up with. Mobius finds himself hiding a grin this time. If they win this, when they win this, he’ll hold onto that metaphor and use it if Loki still hasn’t accepted whatever weird crush he has on her.
(The pair of them sneak off together. They talk about love, and trust, and the future, and figuring things out. They also talk about Mobius. These things are all related.)
When he offers his hand to Loki, that’s all he expects. He should know, by now, that Loki doesn’t adhere very well to expectations. He’s pulled into a tight hug and doesn’t hesitate to hug back. Loki’s fingers curl against his back, gripping his shirt, and he says, “Thank you, my friend.” Mobius breathes in, leans into the hug, and when he opens his eyes, he sees Sylvie standing there, watching them.
“You’re my favorite,” he tells her. It’s a lie, of course. How could he choose? The way she smiles makes him thinks that she knows he’s lying, too. Loki lets out something of a frustrated sigh, but he doesn’t let go for a few seconds longer.
Loki and Sylvie are going to cut off the head of the snake, and Mobius is going back to TVA to burn down whatever will be left in the aftermath.
That’s the plan, anyway. It doesn’t work out that way.
For one, he was expecting tighter security, a little suspicion, but he thought, with the truth he knows and the right words, that people would join him in demanding answers about their past. Instead, he meets outright resistance, and the knowledge that in their brief absence, Renslayer has made it public knowledge that ‘the Variant can create memories and use them to turn even the most loyal Hunters against our cause.’
The only reason he doesn’t get pruned again is probably because Renslayer figures he’ll just come back. He’s not the only one being held in custody. Hunter B-15 is here, a few others who she managed to convince. Mobius isn’t sure what’s going to be done to them. He knows where it’ll end, with the same fate as C-20, but how Renslayer will execute them is a mystery. Part of him wonders if she would hesitate. He holds onto the fact that Loki and Sylvie are on their way to kill whoever is in charge of this whole mess and end it for good. He just hopes they do it quickly.
He gets yanked backwards through a time door with a hand over his mouth. He bites the hand.
“Mobius!” hisses an all too familiar voice. “What is wrong with you?”
“You surprised me!” Loki shoves him none too gently to the side. The time door closes, and Loki looks over his shoulder. Sylvie is standing there, scowling down at the Tempad in her hands. B-15 is also there, and she gives Mobius a curt nod.
“Faster!” Loki says, and then to Mobius, “You don’t bite people who are trying to rescue you. That’s rude.”
“The doors can only open and close so fast.” Sylvie snaps. Her voice is strained and her entire body is as tense as a tripwire. Mobius steps away to make room for whoever Loki plans to pull out next, another Hunter, D-7, who looks shocked. Mobius helps get her out of the way for the next one, and the next one, and the next.
When they’re done, a group of seven in total, plus him and the two Trickster Gods, Sylvie lets out a long, furious breath. Loki walks over to her, takes the Tempad before she ends up crushing it in her grip, and then she turns and storms away. Loki watches her go.
“You didn’t manage to kill whoever was in charge?” Mobius guesses.
“No,” Loki answers. He sounds venomous, but he manages to rein it in. “We didn’t. We couldn’t,” Mobius furrows his brow, and Loki explains sardonically, “because they were already dead, and from the looks of it, have been for a very long time. There's no one in charge.” From far away, there’s the sound of an explosion and a scream. Mobius flinches, and a few of the ex-Hunters ready themselves for a fight that doesn’t come. Loki barely even reacts.
“What now?” Mobius asks. “Loki, there’s still a plan, right? Where are we going?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know,” Mobius repeats. Loki’s shoulders slump. He finds a suitable rock to sit on.
“This is the plan, for now. Hide here. One of my other selves survived in an alternate timeline for centuries by living in isolation. We won’t set off any alarms, and it will give us time to... figure out what we do now.” He waves a hand. “If you have any brilliant ideas, I would be glad to hear them.” There’s another explosion. Mobius looks in that direction, but he can’t see Sylvie. There is a plume of dirt falling from where it’s been launched into the sky where he presumes she is. “We tried to kill the Time-Keepers, but they were only mechanical puppets. We tried to kill what was higher than them, but it didn’t even exist.”
“Is this you giving up?”
“This is me,” Loki says, “doing what I do best. Figuring out how to rise again after defeat.” He looks up at Mobius, and he grins. It’s a little too forced to set him at ease. “You’ve seen how well I can do.” Mobius gazes around at where they are, at the ex-TVA with them. B-15 seems to have taken care of anyone who was still confused about the rescue. There’s only a few of them, but they were some of the Time Variance Authority’s best. There will be something they can do.
“How about I make a plan, then? Involving food. You still owe me a salad.” First things first, though, food, shelter, rest. He doesn’t know how often a god needs sleep, but given that Loki’s been on the run nonstop since before they picked him up, Mobius is willing to bet he’ll be needing it soon. Sylvie too, when she comes back. Who knows how long she’s been running? Loki stands, and they both go to their little group of renegades.
Soon enough, there’s a fire and tents and food that Mobius really hopes won’t turn out to be poisonous in the long run. His division was always focused on Earth, so he’s never had time or the inclination to study the plants of other planets. He’ll just have to trust Loki on this one, and he does. The food isn’t half-bad either. It isn’t long before most of the other ex-TVA members (and they have to come up with a better name for their group. For everyone, now that he thinks about it. A lot of the people at the Time Variance Authority don’t get names. He’s one of the lucky ones.) have gone to sleep. That’s when Sylvie finally rejoins them. Mobius suspects that was intentional. She can’t be used to being around a lot of people. At least, not people who aren’t all going to die in a few hours. She sits between him and Loki, though there’s really not enough room. Loki moves over for her. She looks exhausted, and it takes her a minute to speak.
“You were right. We failed, but we didn’t die,” she muses tiredly, “We survived. For whatever that’s worth.” Loki leans forward, rubbing at his face.
“It is worth something. We’re alive to try again, however many times we need to.”
“Try what, exactly?”
“There’s more than one way to topple an empire,” Loki says. “This was just the easiest.”
“You think that was easy?” Mobius says.
“Comparatively,” Loki responds dryly.
“Is it time now for your... diplomacy? Guile? Whatever other cards you have up your sleeve?” Sylvie says.
“If by that you mean working on this from the bottom up, then yes. Our best bet would be to convince the majority to our side and overthrow the TVA that way.”
“That’ll be an uphill battle.” Mobius says. “Renslayer’s got them all convinced that your ace in the hole is a trick.”
“You believed us,” Loki points out.
“I- I believed you. I didn’t trust her.” Mobius says. Sylvie snorts.
“I told you he cared.”
“What?”
“He didn’t believe me. You’re not exactly subtle about it.” She answers Mobius. “I thought a Loki was meant to be perceptive, but I’ve been proven wrong.” They both stare at her. “Well, I am perceptive. He cares about you, too, though I think you knew that already.” She tells Mobius.
“I don’t-” Loki begins to protest.
“He cares about you,” Mobius deflects. “Enough to create an entirely new timeline.”
“The TVA lied about that.”
“They didn’t. I saw the reports. I signed off on most of them.” Sylvie tilts her head.
“Huh.” She doesn’t sound as surprised as she would have if she actually believed it to be a lie. “How sweet.”
“Don’t talk as if I’m not here-”
“I’m not opposed to sharing.” She interrupts, taking Mobius off-guard.
“You aren’t?”
“Do I get a say in any of this-”
“No,” she says, and it’s unclear which of them she’s talking to. “And I’m getting very tired of being disappointed. I want him. You want him. We’ll share.”
“I’m-”
“I think I could do that,” Mobius says without hesitating, and Loki’s protests die all of a sudden. Sylvie looks between them, nods, and then stands.
“Good. We’re going to bed now.” She sweeps away. Mobius watches her go.
“She’s bossy.”
“You have no idea,” Loki says, but it’s quiet. “Is this really what you want?”
Mobius considers it. He doesn’t have to consider it for very long.
“I threw away everything I’ve been working for, for... I don’t even remember how long. I did it because it was right, sure, but it didn’t hurt that I knew you would be standing here with me if I did. I know what I want, and I have no doubt she always knows what she wants. That leaves you.” He puts a hand on Loki’s shoulder, unsure of where the line is. He wants to kiss him. “Do you still believe you deserve to be alone?” He repeats. Loki reaches up to touch his hand.
“Not anymore,” he answers, honest. Mobius smiles.
“Then I think we’re going to bed together.” The tent is almost too small for the three of them. Loki waves a hand once, then frowns when nothing happens. Mobius manages a laugh. “Magic it easier when you’ve gotten some sleep.” Loki, for once, doesn’t argue. Mobius thinks Sylvie’s asleep already, but she turns towards them when they enter.
“Have you kissed him?” She asks Mobius. He just stops himself from childishly saying, ‘Neither have you.’ She apparently doesn’t need a verbal answer to know. “I’m going to have to do everything, aren’t I?” She doesn’t sound particularly upset about that, though it might be because she sounds half-asleep instead. She turns Loki’s head towards her, and she kisses him. They’re beautiful together. Mobius notes the way Loki leans into the touch. When she pulls back, she tilts her head in invitation. Mobius touches his cheek to turn his head back, and Loki, eager to please, kisses him back so sweetly. Sylvie is watching them again, and Mobius finds that he doesn’t mind at all. Loki glances at her, and he gains confidence, smirks.
“I’m not opposed to sharing.” Which Mobius thinks maybe he’s meant to protest, or maybe Sylvie is meant to protest. He certainly doesn’t and Sylvie just raises an eyebrow in challenge.
“You might have to,” is all she says.
They’ll figure out the logistics of this tomorrow, Mobius thinks, and the logistics of running a tiny-but-hopefully-growing rebellion against the Time Variance Authority. Here and now, there is a too small tent, and one Trickster God complaining under his breath about sleeping on the ground while the other is already fast asleep, and Mobius is a little bit in love with them both. They’ll figure it out. Together.