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"So," said Mobius, "let's recap. The weapon we recovered from variant—uh, sorry, from K1650—contained mindarium, an element which has only ever been found on the planet Mindar. That makes it a location of interest. The Mindarans are still recovering from a period of brutal colonization by the Xandarians, who—conveniently—look pretty much indistinguishable from us. That means that any dealings with the indigenous population is likely to be, uh, fraught. Culturally they tend toward non-violence, but we can expect to be shunned at best."
"Except I can shapeshift," Loki pointed out.
"Sure, but unless you memorized every aspect of their culture and think you can reliably pass as one of them, let's just avoid contact altogether."
"I feel like my abilities are being underutilized, that's all."
"Well, I'm sorry that the mission parameters aren't designed around giving you enrichment in your enclosure. If you want to sit this one out and wait for something involving infiltration—"
"No, no," said Loki, "I'll come."
OB and Victor had figured out roughly how long it would have taken the weapon to be made, and then worked backward to get an estimate of when K1650 likely would have been sourcing the mindarium. Unfortunately, that put them squarely in monsoon season in the northern hemisphere of the planet, which was where the element deposits were. There wasn't really any getting around it; they were going to have to deal with the weather.
That sounded fine when they were in the TVA; they'd dealt with adverse weather conditions before, after all, and the TVA-issued waterproofs were pretty good. But planetside, it was a different story. The rain lashed horizontally, carried on a wind so strong that they had to yell at each other to be heard. Mobius could hardly make out Loki's face through the downpour.
"This is ridiculous," shouted Loki. "We're not going to get any intel like this. Just let me talk to them."
"That's not what we agreed," Mobius shouted back, "and it's not what we prepared for. If you want to abandon the mission because of a little rain—"
"A little rain?" Loki repeated. "You're just being bloody-minded, now."
Maybe he was right. Loki's infiltration idea, though risky, would probably have given them a better shot, but it wasn't like it was off the table—they could still do it, and do it right. It just wasn't anything to rush into without prep, and Mobius had hoped they could lay the groundwork for it first. But right now, they were getting nowhere.
"Look," he said, gesturing with the TemPad that was still in his right hand. Until it wasn't. It slipped out of his slick grasp and was dashed against a particularly jagged rock. TemPads were pretty rugged, but the edge of the rock had cracked the screen open and water was already getting inside.
"Fuck," said Mobius, snatching it up. He tapped at the screen, but it had frozen, and was getting more damaged by the second.
"Don't tell me you broke it," Loki shouted.
"It's broken," Mobius admitted.
The rain started to ease, as if it had had its fun. The respite wouldn't last long, but at least that was one less thing to deal with for the time being.
"You can't be serious. We're stuck here?"
Mobius sighed. "Obviously, this isn't ideal."
Loki stared at him in disbelief. "Yes, I'd say it's sub-fucking-optimal!"
"Granted," said Mobius with exaggerated patience, "but it's not unprecedented. We do have protocols for this kind of situation."
"Being?"
"We stay as close to the site of the Tempad's last sync as is safe, and wait for extraction. With these weather conditions, that means we need to find some shelter nearby."
"And how long will extraction take?"
"First of all the Tempad has to miss a scheduled sync-up, which will be in a few hours. Then they need a little time to track us—not too much, hopefully." He pointed at the crag in the distance. "Let's look for a cave."
It wasn't too far, but the trek was awkward; there was no direct path, and they had to pick their way through uneven, grassy terrain which was now also waterlogged.
"Shit," said Mobius, as he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his calf muscle. He hoped it was some kind of prickly plant, but he had a feeling—yep.
"You okay?" Loki called over his shoulder, unconcerned, then he took in Mobius' expression. "What is it?"
"I got bitten," said Mobius, gesturing at the orange-striped creature skittering away.
"Badly?" asked Loki, then—"Is that thing venomous?"
"I think so," said Mobius, grimacing.
"Is there an antidote?" Loki asked urgently.
"Gee, if only I had some kind of database of all the flora and fauna on this planet," snapped Mobius. "Oh, that's right, I did!"
Loki had gone pale. "Mobius," he said faintly.
"Sorry. Sorry. Just—let's calm down. We don't know that it's fatal, let's just—"
"This isn't happening," Loki muttered. "First aid kit?"
"Yeah, I have it, but we need to—"
"Fine," said Loki, grabbing painfully on to Mobius' arm and blinking them to the base of the outcrop, then shifting into his Jotunn form and carrying Mobius into a now-visible cave. He laid Mobius carefully down, then shifted back.
"Hey," said Mobius, "you got to use your powers after all."
"Shut up," said Loki, voice thick. "I should have—" he shook his head and held out his hand for the kit.
"Is there a tourniquet in here?" he asked, rummaging through it.
"You're not supposed to use a tourniquet," said Mobius wearily. "It doesn't do anything except cause compartment syndrome."
"What if I suck out—"
"Nope," said Mobius, darkly amused. "That just creates an infection risk."
"Then what?" demanded Loki.
"I need to get my shoe and sock off, then keep it still. Document symptoms every half hour. Use the EpiPen if I show any signs of anaphylaxis."
"And?"
"And… just hope we get extracted in time," said Mobius.
Loki shook his head. "Not good enough."
"Well, I don't have a magic wand, Loki. Unless you have some kind of healing spell in your repertoire—"
Loki looked like he was on the verge of tears. "I didn't—I didn't pay attention. I wasn't interested. None of it's any use, I can't—"
"Hey, hey. Not everything in the whole world is your fault, all right?"
"Yes, but if I'd just—"
"You didn't know what was going to happen. I should have been more careful."
Loki shook his head. "I need to—I'm going for help."
"Help? From who?"
"There was a settlement nearby. They'll have a healer, something—"
"I'd really rather not die alone in this cave," said Mobius quietly.
"That's not going to happen," said Loki. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll teleport, then I'll disguise myself as one of them and—"
"Oh, I get it. Any excuse to shapeshift."
"It's not a joke, Mobius! Just… don't move."
Mobius shrugged. "Where am I gonna go?" Then he remembered something. "Doctor, not healer."
"What?"
"Don't ask for a healer. That's the language the Xandarians used to delegitimize them. They would say doctor."
Loki nodded, looked at him for a long moment, then blinked away.
After taking off his boot and sock, and rolling up his pant leg, Mobius leaned back against the wall of the cave and waited. If he'd had a working Tempad, he would at least have had something to read—but then again, he wouldn't be stuck in a cave with a rapidly swelling ankle either. As it was, he sat listening to the gale resume its howl outside. Loki would make it back, he trusted that—but whether he would be able to find anyone willing to help what they thought was a Xandarian at all, let alone make the journey in this weather, was much more doubtful.
By the time Loki did return (in his Mindaran form), the light in the cave had almost completely dwindled. To Mobius' surprise, he had a Mindaran doctor in tow. They were both bundled up against the storm, and the doctor carried some kind of electric lantern.
"Good," the doctor said, casting the light over Mobius. "You're still conscious."
"Barely," said Mobius, as the doctor knelt down and examined the wound. "I almost died of boredom in here."
"Ignore him," said Loki, hovering.
"Give me some space, please," said the doctor.
Loki hesitated, then retreated to the cave's mouth, where he stood silhouetted against the fading sky, arms folded, palpably fretting.
"Thank you for treating me," Mobius said. "Considering, uh, what I am."
"I'm sworn to prevent suffering," the doctor said, voice mild. They were applying some kind of salve to the bite; it had a strong, medicated smell, but it wasn't unpleasant.
"Isn't that a little complicated, though?" Mobius asked.
The doctor looked up at him inquisitively.
"I mean," said Mobius, "for my people at least, giving birth is one of the most painful things you can do. Bringing life into the world, in the first place, requires suffering. And then—most people's lives include at least a little pain. If you take it to its logical conclusion, wouldn't the only way to prevent suffering be to stop people from being born at all?"
The doctor smiled slightly. "You're right. No simplistic oath can encompass a system of medical ethics which has emerged over centuries. It's just a shorthand, and at times we face pressing dilemmas. Fortunately for you, this is a very straightforward case. Besides," they added, "I think your associate might have razed my village to the ground if I had refused."
Mobius laughed softly. "Yeah, I wouldn't put it past them."
"They said you were a 'high-value hostage'. That it would be 'disadvantageous' if you were to die."
Mobius snorted. "Flattering."
"Their hands were shaking," the doctor said blandly.
"Well," said Mobius. "It's chilly."
The doctor gave him a knowing look. "They would not be the first of us to fall in love with one of you," they said in a low voice. "It's happened more often than we like to admit. There was a popular ballad about such a case, though it has been… widely suppressed."
"I'd love to hear it," said Mobius, deciding not to challenge the doctor's assumption about the nature of his and Loki's relationship. If they were helping him from some misguided romantic impulse, better to let them go on believing it.
"I don't remember exactly how it goes," said the doctor, then hummed a few bars of a tune. "Something like that."
Loki drifted closer. "What's going on?"
"Just chatting," said Mobius.
"I heard humming."
"We were talking about music. Relax."
"He's—" Loki cleared his throat. "He's going to be all right?"
"We got to it in time," said the doctor. "You just need rest now," they said, addressing Mobius. "Don't put too much weight on it at first. There will be pain, but there's no danger of losing the limb."
"Thank you," said Mobius. "I don't know… what we have to offer—" He glanced at Loki, wondering if he'd already made some promise, and whether it was one they could keep. But Loki's face was nothing but a white mask. He looked like he was about to collapse.
The doctor shook their head. "It's not necessary."
A ripple went over Loki as he shifted back to his preferred form. He sat next to Mobius, shoulder to shoulder, and produced a bundle from under the Mindaran cloak he was still wearing.
"Look," he said, "I managed to get some food in the village."
Wrapped in wax paper was some kind of cottage cheese-like substance, a piece of flatbread and some small yellow fruits resembling tomatoes or cherries. Mobius sniffed one. It had a green, earthy scent, more savory than sweet. He bit into it; it had a slightly bitter taste—something like a capsicum. It wasn't bad, though.
"Try one of these," he told Loki, who shook his head.
Mobius shrugged and tore off a piece of the flatbread, topping it with a little of the 'cheese'. He bit into it. "This is pretty good," he said.
Loki smiled encouragingly, but didn't reach for any.
"You're not eating?"
"I already had some."
"When? In the village?"
"Yes," said Loki airily.
He tried to picture it, but the idea of a panicking Loki pausing to sample the local delicacies, while a storm raged overhead, was laughable.
"You had a little picnic down there, huh?" Loki glanced at him, then away. "It's cute how you still think you can lie to me."
"I don't need it. It's for you, to keep your strength up."
Except Loki had used a lot more magic than he was used to, today. Mobius actually wasn't sure if his magic atrophied from disuse or if it built up, or how the stasis of the TVA affected all of that—but regardless, Loki had to be tired.
"I don't eat if you don't eat," said Mobius.
Loki glared daggers at him, refusing to back down. Mobius shrugged and started to pack the food away again.
"Fine!" said Loki, real anger in his voice, and shoved one of the little fruits into his mouth. "Oh, yes, it's not bad," he said, surprised, and still chewing. Mobius laughed.
Loki's mood, though, remained somber.
"Do you know what I would have done if you'd died?" he asked. "Because I don't. I was thinking about it, on the way back up to the cave with that doctor. I was thinking, this is taking too long, we're not going to be back in time, I should just teleport us. But then maybe the doctor wouldn't help us. And then I was thinking, I should have just teleported the two of us to the cave in the first place instead of making you walk. I was just being petty because I was in a bad mood. And then suddenly I was so sure you were going to die, and I was trying to picture what my life was going to look like after that, and all I could imagine was this awful void. Not even the Void. Worse than that. Like a fog that went on forever. Grey, featureless."
"Hey," said Mobius, touching him lightly on the arm. Loki's eyes refocused. "It didn't happen. I'm right here."
"Yes, but—"
"Yeah, it was a close call. You know how many close calls I've had? More than I can remember—literally. And you've had plenty yourself. A million little things had to go right—or wrong—for us to be sitting here together right now. I've found it's better not to do the math." He leaned over to knock their shoulders together. "You know, that doctor thought we were an item." If nothing else, it was a change of subject.
"Did they?" said Loki dispassionately.
"Where do you think they got that idea?"
Loki looked away from him into the darkness of the cave. "For fuck's sake, Mobius. You know I'm in love with you."
"Yeah, I had kinda got that impression."
"I suppose you think it's very funny," said Loki, voice thick, "but—"
"I don't think it's funny. I'm just waiting for you to do something about it."
Loki whipped his head back around to stare at him. "Me? Why do I have to do something?"
"Well, I'm injured. I shouldn't have to do any work."
"Oh, you are unbearable," said Loki. He cupped Mobius' face and kissed him.
Loki's hand and face were cold against his, but rapidly warming.
"Never thought we'd be doing this in a cave," Loki murmured against his lips.
"You didn't?" said Mobius. "Cave was on my list, for sure."
"I'm going to need to see that list."
Loki started to kiss him again, but Mobius put a hand on his shoulder and created a little distance. He needed to know something first.
"Wait," he said. "Have you ever done this before?"
Loki stared at him. "What, kissing?"
"Kissing me."
"Never," Loki promised. "I needed you to remember."
"Okay," said Mobius, relieved. "Good."
There wasn't much talking for a while after that, until Mobius moved to straddle Loki's legs.
"Darling, your ankle," Loki said, pulling away.
"It's fine. Doesn't hurt at all."
"You're not supposed to put weight on it."
"I'm not. You're taking all my weight."
"Just be careful," said Loki breathlessly, but he stopped protesting—just put his arm around Mobius' back and pulled him closer.
Things probably would have got considerably more heated at this point if, moments later, there hadn't been the soft swish of a time door opening behind him, and then the less soft sound of V's voice. "You want me to come back later?"
"Yeah," said Mobius.
"No," snapped Loki, gently pushing Mobius away. "He's injured," he called to V. "He needs to go to the sickbay."
It didn't take long to get her up to speed, and for her to take the lion's share of Mobius' weight while Loki fussed around.
"You find us okay?" Mobius asked her.
"You left a trail I coulda followed with a bucket on my head."
"Sorry this one went sideways."
"Don't sweat it. It was only a recon. We'll get it next time. I'm just glad you weren't more seriously hurt. And that you two got a little quality time."
"A medical emergency in a cave is not what I'd call quality time," Loki retorted.
"Can't argue with results," said V.
"'And then I successfully infiltrated the Mindarans'," Loki read. He had deigned to write the mission report for once—Mobius had made a crack about how maybe he should nearly die more often, but the look he'd received from Loki in response was so baleful that he immediately felt bad.
"I'd have said 'heroically'," said Mobius.
Loki glanced up from the report. He was obviously trying not to smile, and failing miserably. He was only managing not to actively beam. "How's your ankle?"
"Hurts like a bitch," said Mobius frankly.
"I don't understand this place," said Loki. "If you can heal here, that means your cells can regenerate. Which means you should age."
"I've found it's best not too think too hard about it."
"Yes, I'm well aware that denial has been your watchword, Mobius."
"Ouch."
Loki took hold of his hand and brought it up his lips. He kissed the knuckles. "Can I bring you anything?"
"I'm fine."
"No? Hot chocolate?"
"Twist my arm, why don't you."
Loki returned a few minutes later, and put the hot chocolate on the side table.
"Wait," he said when Mobius started to reach for it, "let me kiss you before you taste of sugar." He did, thoroughly.
"You know," said Mobius, "if you're only going to do this when I don't taste of sugar, that's going to severely limit our opportunities."
"I'm going to kiss you as often as possible. I have a lot of lost time to make up for." He ducked down for another peck.
"Hey," said Mobius, "I thought of a couple of things you could get for me, after all."
"Yes?" asked Loki, instantly solicitous.
"You remember that soup I like from the deli?"
"The one with spring onions?"
"Exactly. And while you're down there, maybe you can pick me up a new book to read."
"Okay. Anything in particular?"
"Surprise me. You could ask your friend with the red hair."
"Melanie."
"Right. And… how about one of those McDonald's apple pies?"
"McDonald's? Really, Mobius, there are a hundred better—"
"I want McDonald's," said Mobius firmly. "But go back to the 80s, huh? They were better back then."
Loki reared back unhappily. "You're having second thoughts," he said, voice choppy.
"Loki. I have had one thought which has dominated since we met. I'm pretty sure you can rely on it by now."
Loki sighed and pressed their foreheads together. "Then why are you sending me off to talk to women? Why can't I stay here with you?" One hand was fisted in Mobius' shirt.
"Because I can feel you getting antsy with nothing to do, and it's stressing me out. And, because I want you to maintain your friendships outside of the TVA, so you have someone to talk to when we have a fight."
"We're not going to have fights."
"We are absolutely going to have fights. We had one today."
"Bickering is not the same as fighting."
"Well, agree to disagree. For your information, I'm counting this as our first official fight as a couple."
"Fine," said Loki, disentangling himself. "Drink your hot chocolate. I love you." He turned and walked away, but not before Mobius caught the faint flush on his cheeks.