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Loki quickly scrolled through the TemPad for a place to jump; somewhere that seemed close enough to the right timeline. Once he'd gotten over his initial shock that the Mobius he saw was not the Mobius he knew, the only thing to do was keep going. He didn't have time to convince this new TVA, re-establishing trust that took weeks to build the first time, in order to get back to fixing their mistake. Taking advantage of the fact that this Mobius thought he was an Agent, using the training he’d inadvertently picked up, he secured a borrowed TemPad and slipped away into a theater.
The destinations definitely seemed more jumbled than the last time he'd seen the interface; Sylvie had almost certainly taken the time to organize them. For now it seemed he could locate significant actors, many of which he didn't know, but then he saw one—Thor. Loki's heart skipped a beat. He'd recognize him anywhere, even as scruffy and unkempt as he looked here, staring blankly off into the horizon. What had happened, to bring him so low? What happened to him—to his eye? Loki felt a pang of guilt, an extra layer on top of his usual poor self-esteem where his family was concerned. This must be that timeline where I—where I was killed. Where mother… this would have been my future.
Loki had to take a steadying breath. He could avoid this timeline, stay away from the reminder of what he’d lost, but he was running short on options. And oh, it would be good to see his brother again, even for just a short time. Even if Thor was furious. He heard Mobius’ patient voice in his head, telling him that it would be alright. Trust your brother. No matter what, he loves you. Loki felt another pang of grief that he’d lost Mobius, too, lost everything, but knew he couldn't give up this chance. He typed the destination, and activated the time door. I can’t avoid it forever, he thought, and stepped through.
2023 | Tønsberg, Norway | New Asgard
Loki’s foot met short, springy grass, and the bracing chill of the sea air at once filled him with the comfort of something close to home. Ahead of him, Thor sat slovenly hunched, his blond hair disheveled by the wind and his own evident neglect. As sad as he looked, Loki was so glad to see him alive. Walking closer, Loki made no effort to disguise the sound of his footsteps. Now wasn't the time to go sneaking up on his brother, as much as he would normally relish the idea of catching him off guard.
“Brother…”
Thor turned to glance at the source of the sound, his mismatched eyes unfocused with drink. His glare sharpened, but he whipped back around and crushed the can he was holding with a harsh sigh. Alright, so he’s angry, Loki thought. He'd clear up the problem, explain why it wasn't his fault, and steer the conversation to how Thor could help with his current predicament. This was familiar territory where his usual antics were concerned, though something still seemed off.
“I swear I can explain.” Whatever it is, Loki was prepared to roll with it. Or so he thought. Thor began mumbling angrily to himself, completely ignoring that Loki was right there. Adding injury to insult, his godlike strength didn't fail him as he tossed the crushed can backwards, hitting Loki square in the head.
“Ow! What was that for?” Loki complained, the small impact stinging more than it had any right to. He certainly didn't think he'd done anything to warrant more than an argument. Right?
Thor turned back, a haunted look on his face. His eyes cleared, and his expression turned to one of pure shock. “What kind of cruel trick is this…?” He stood, shaken, but Loki could tell he was as steady on his feet as ever. Solid and stable. Something Loki desperately needed right now.
Loki wasn’t sure what Thor meant, but settled for the truth. It wasn't his normal approach, but these were strange times, and he craved reassurance, something close to normal after having lost everything else. He approached Thor, uncertain of how to proceed. For Thor, physicality was essential to his being, quick to engage his brother in a fight or an overbearingly affectionate hug—something Loki resented as a cat would—and this distance was strange. Recently he'd gotten more used to it, and had even reached out on his own. Mobius’ way of doing things had rubbed off on him, for sure.
“There is no trick, brother.” Loki touched Thor’s shoulders, and he was warm and solid as ever. “I’m here.”
Thor let him approach, still stunned. “How…” he began, and Loki started to explain. He had to fill Thor in on what he’d been through, it was obviously strange for him to suddenly appear out of a glowing portal with no context. It wouldn’t be the first time, and he thought rapid-fire of all the things he wanted to tell Thor about his journey. Not everything, of course, that would take far too long and Thor wasn’t exactly the best at following Loki’s more elaborate stories. “Well, it's quite the long story, but if I must summarize—”
Thor’s face grew storm-dark, his eyes welling with tears and sharpening with rage the likes of which Loki had never seen. Thor gripped his shirt, yanking it nearly to the tearing point. “How many times must I watch you die? Just to have you prance back as if nothing ever happened?” Thor bellowed. Loki stared up at him, his eyes wide and afraid. He’d seen Thor angry thousands of times, he’d always delighted in annoying him, but this was obviously different.
Thor’s face changed, his rage turning to the deepest grief he’d ever seen, and Loki felt peculiarly out of place. “I thought I had lost everything! Mother, then father, then my home, and then you… And you were...”
Loki watched him, still shocked, but felt himself starting to realize what was happening. This is what I must have looked like when I saw Mother die. Maybe I really shouldn't be here. He’d begun to learn how to process his feelings—Mobius had forced him to confront them, like it or not, but he’d done so without judgement. Thor just needed to get this out, before Loki could begin to explain. First listen, then apologize. Mobius’ voice echoed in his mind. Apologies don't mean anything if you don't understand why they're needed.
“Do you enjoy watching me writhe in grief every time you fake your death? What well-crafted lies do you have for me this time?” Loki looked away, guilty for things he hadn’t even done. Not that he wouldn’t have done them… but he was different now.
He’d hurt Thor. Some version of himself, a later one, had caused Thor pain. He felt it distantly, but at least he could do this. “I am sorry. I have no lies to tell.” Thor’s grip on his shirt loosened, whether from exhaustion or disbelief, Loki couldn’t tell, but he was listening. “So believe me when I say, as strange as it may sound, none of what happened was a lie.” I, too, watched myself die. “I—” Loki hesitated, unsure of how much he should say, suddenly realizing that by even coming here, he’d created even more problems in the timeline. Though at this point, with the timelines branching like mad, an infinite nervous system of chaos, what was one more? No matter what, this Thor was still his brother. “—to be honest, I’m not even supposed to be here, and I have no idea what kind of consequences my presence here will cause.”
Thor dropped his hands, listening intently, weighing his words. He still looked to be in disbelief that Loki was even there, but Loki recognized the look as one of judgement. His brother could be just as impulsive, but in serious matters, he waited to gather all the facts and hear each side before acting. Loki realized that what he wanted more than anything was to be believed; a tall order given his track record, but important just the same. I can't be trusted, he’d said. He’d had his brother’s trust and squandered it many times over. He’d had Mobius’ trust, and he had only just earned it. Regardless, he pushed on.
“So many things I still haven't wrapped my head around. But trust me that the moment I saw the opportunity to come back, I took it without hesitation.” There. The truth, as much as he was able to give it. He offered it freely, not in exchange for favor or reward, but because he wanted to.
In an instant, he found himself crushed against a powerful chest by equally strong arms. Loki gasped at the unexpected touch, his heart skipping a beat. It worked. He hadn’t quite believed that he could ever really regain it, and he knew it would take work to truly repair it. Thor believed him, at least enough for this.
“You’re lucky my need to hug you is stronger than my wish to throw you off the cliff, you slimy undying jerk.” Loki felt his eyes well up with tears as he returned the embrace.
“You’re right. I’m very lucky.”
Loki closed his eyes, absorbing comfort from the hug for as long as he could. He did truly appreciate his luck that after everything, somewhere in his heart, Thor still trusted him. Somewhere deep in his mind he acutely felt the absence of a trick or ulterior motive; this really was his last desperate attempt, and he shook with the stress and panic of the last few hours. After a moment, he realized it wasn’t just him—Thor was shaking, weeping against Loki’s shoulder in his grief.
“Drømde mik en drøm i nat,” Loki sang softly, recalling a memory of Frigga—of his mother—sitting with them, combing first Thor’s hair, then Loki’s. She sang softly, soothing the cuts and bruises they’d given each other in some of their earliest play-fights. “Um silki ok ærlik pæl...” I dreamed a dream last night, of justice and fair play… Frigga’s songs always held a lesson, a gentle guidance compared to Odin’s overzealous hand. Loki’s voice shook, and he allowed himself to join Thor in grieving.
Several long moments passed, and Thor released him. “I don’t know who you are, you who claim to be my brother, but…” Thor gave him a strange look, drying his eyes on his ratty sleeve. “If this is another trick, I swear...” There was a soft whirr behind them, and Loki tensed. Of course the TVA would find him just as—
“I knew I’d find you here.”
“Mobius—?” Loki whipped around, his heart racing once more.
The time door closed behind him as Mobius stepped out onto the grass, looking a bit worse for wear, but to Loki he couldn’t have looked more wonderful.
“Who is this, brother?” Thor looked warily at the interloper, his hands flexing into fists. This was a man of Midgard, and he must have significant powers to be able to suddenly appear like that. He looked as if he had come from battle, and if Loki was yet again in danger, Thor was prepared to fight if need be. He raised his hand to summon Mjølnir, but stopped in surprise as Loki ran towards this stranger, his arms outstretched.
“Mobius!” Thor watched in astonishment as Loki’s tear-streaked face blossomed with joy he hadn’t seen since they were children and caught the strange man in a tight embrace. As they pulled away and looked at each other, Thor looked on in confusion, though his heart was considerably lighter.
“You know this man, I take it?”
Mobius moved forward, reaching out a hand. “Name’s Mobius. Good to finally meet you, Thor.”
“You are a… friend of Loki’s?” Thor gave him an appraising look, sizing him up. Anyone who turned up with Loki was worth keeping at least one eye on, in his experience, and he didn’t really have one to spare at the moment.
Loki grinned, slinging an arm over Mobius’ shoulder. “Don’t worry, brother. He’s not dangerous.”
Mobius pouted. “No way, I’m totally dangerous. You should have seen me back at the TVA.” He glanced at Loki, his expression melting into a smile. “I’ll have you know, I’m a quick hand with a time stick.”
“Mobius, you’re about as good at fighting as I am at paperwork,” Loki teased.
Thor looked on in astonishment as the two teased each other, falling into an easy camaraderie. Loki has friends? This Mobius fellow didn’t seem very powerful, but anyone who could get close enough to Loki to touch him—Mobius elbowed Loki in the side in a teasing gesture—must be quite formidable.
“Don’t give yourself so little credit. You’re a smart guy.”
Loki’s face fell, pained at the reminder. “I—we made a mistake, Mobius. We ruined everything.”
“Hey, we’ll figure it out. But you made it here. I knew you could do it.”
Loki blushed slightly at the praise, and Thor’s eyebrows raised even higher as Mobius placed a familiar, reassuring hand on Loki’s lower back and Loki’s worried face softened.
“It’s so good to see you again, Mobius.”
“It’s good to see you too, Loki.” Mobius’ smile was equally fond.
Thor cleared his throat, interrupting them before it became too awkward.
“Oh, hey, sorry.” Mobius offered his hand again, and this time Thor took it, giving him a firm handshake before tugging him closer into a hug, clapping him on the back. Loki watched with an amazed smile as Mobius floundered in Thor’s strong grasp, wheezing a bit as he pulled away.
“Whew, take it easy on me, mister God of Thunder.”
“Thank you for looking after my brother.”
“No need for thanks. I’m just a regular guy.”
“And yet you have captured my brother’s heart. That is no small task.” Thor spoke matter-of-factly, and Loki flushed redder. Thor grinned. It wasn’t often he had the upper hand where Loki was concerned, and he intended to keep it that way for as long as he could.
“His heart? I don’t—”
“Nonsense.” Thor gave him a knowing look. “You have nothing to fear from me, so long as you treat him well.”
“I—” Mobius just shrugged. “Fair enough.”
“Come with me, Mobius. I will summon what remains of the others. We shall see if you are worthy!
“Sounds like fun, right, Lokes?” Mobius patted Loki’s back, urging him to follow Thor.
“Mm.” Loki hummed his agreement.
“Brother, you must also explain the manner of your arrival.”
“Ah.” There it was. He knew he’d have to reveal a lot of information if he expected any help, but with Mobius here, the idea was more bearable. With the timelines as mixed up as they were, he didn’t know how long this would last, but he wasn’t about to turn down the chance.
“I will… do my best.”