Before we start, the song that I keep quoting this chapter is "Shake it Out" by Florence + The Machine :)
Loki had to have heard that wrong.
"What?"
"The person that Bob was going to meet with in that club was Thor," Mobius repeated, moving closer to Loki and showing him the screen.
It was Thor all right. Loki would recognize those broad shoulders and blond hair anywhere. It felt like someone had sucked all the air out of his lungs.
On one hand, Loki had always been so… mad at Thor. Just for being better (always better). For showing up in a rumble of thunder, airbrushed and gorgeous. He really looked like a god. Like a king. And it killed Loki, as much as he loved him.
And on the other hand, he missed him. Especially after seeing how the sacred timeline was supposed to turn out.
"If you were here, I'd give you a hug."
"I'm here."
He could hardly believe that had happened. He'd been able to get over himself. That it had happened, and he didn't get to experience it. Just watched it on a gritty projection.
Loki was staring into space. Then he stiffened and spoke, looking at Mobius.
"Well, alright. Crisis averted then," Loki smiled and began to leave.
"Loki," Mobius said, and Loki stopped, closing his eyes, facing the exit. It was dark in the control room. "Crisis not averted."
"Why not?" Loki replied. He looked over his shoulder but didn't turn around. He could already guess what Mobius was going to say.
"Because Thor could still figure it out, he could still expose the multiverse." Mobius was almost pleading with Loki. His voice was hushed. He always talked like he was afraid someone could overhear them. Like someone was watching him.
Well I suppose, for most of the life he can remember, someone was.
"Oh please, we have nothing to worry about," Loki soothed, turning all the way around and leaning on the door frame. The only light was from the tablet Mobius held and the faintly glowing control panel. Loki could see their silhouettes reflected in the dark glass window. "Thor's good. Annoyingly good. Even if he figures it out, he wouldn't weaponize it."
Mobius shook an index finger at Loki, holding the tablet in his other hand. "I have multiple rebuttals to that."
"I'm sure you do," Loki sighed, making his way to one of the two chairs and plopping down. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes.
"For one, this Thor may not be the same Thor you knew. He could've changed."
Loki snorted. "I've known him for all 1080 odd years of my life and he never changed. What's a thousand more?"
"Even beyond that flawed logic-" Mobius was saying. Mobius had sat down in the chair next to Loki and leaned towards him, elbows on his knees. Blasted tablet still in his hand. The chairs were only a foot apart armrest to armrest. "-If Thor figures it out, he's almost guaranteed to tell more people about it. Most Bobs, from what you told me about him, were probably selfish enough to try to keep the information close, a secret advantage over their enemies. But if Thor spreads the word about the multiverse, then there's no telling what people will do with that."
"But it certainly isn't guaranteed that Thor will figure it out, or tell other people, or somehow invent the technology necessary to actually access the multiverse without Bob in his timeline anymore," Loki replied, becoming annoyed. Mobius was making a big deal out of nothing, just conjecture and 'what if's.
Mobius's chair made a creaking noise as he leaned back. The seats were plush and comfortable. Loki's shirt was sticking to his skin uncomfortably with sweat. The adrenaline from training hadn't worn off, but he was in the mood for a nap. They'd probably only been up for a few hours (if time even passed wherever they were) but 'teaching' had tired him out. As had this conversation.
"Loki, we acted as an unpredictable catalyst by jumping into that time stream and killing Bob. We cannot be certain of anything now. What we did wasn't supposed to happen, even in the natural flow of time."
"Mobius you have got to stop acting like there's reason and order to everything," Loki's voice was becoming louder, while Mobius seemed to be getting quieter. "There's no 'supposed to happen' there's chaos and explosions and randomness and I'm tired of acting like the two of us can somehow untangle all of that."
"I just don't see why you're refusing to even go check on this," Mobius sighed wearily. "It'll probably all be fine and then we can leave and you can dance around singing 'I told you so'."
"I'm not a child Mobius," Loki huffed and got up to leave, trying very hard to make it look like a dignified exit rather than storming out. He heard Mobius grumble 'well you sure act like one sometimes.' Stopping, he pushed out his lower jaw and rolled his eyes. He whirled around.
"I don't see why you can't go without me, I don't even know why we're still doing this together," Loki almost spat.
There you go, losing control again. Always the low blows.
Mobius spun the chair around slowly. He didn't look mad. Just disappointed. "You're the one who made me swear not to leave you."
"I did not-" Loki scoffed. Mobius lifted his eyebrows. "I didn't. You said that on your own. 'I'm not leaving unless you make me.' Well I'm officially cutting you loose, you can go spy on my brother and I can go- go-" Loki searched for the words.
"Go where?" Mobius asked. His voice was soft. Agonizingly patient.
Loki hesitated, then threw his hands up in defeat and disappeared down the hall.
Go where?
Go where?
Go where?
Loki could feel a migraine coming on as he slammed the door to his room behind him and sat down at the edge of his bed. Gray, gray, gray. He ran his hands through his hair, taking fast breaths that burned his nose and throat, while his eyes burned with tears. Always burning, burning, burning from the inside out. Mobius was right. Go where?
Being unstuck from the flow of time, Loki had nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.
He was becoming very tired of, well, himself. It felt like his emotions and thoughts and feelings were just seeping out his brain through his ears. He was trying to grab at them as they flew away on an errant breeze. It was too much.
Loki had always maintained the illusion of control (a trick, conjured by the weak to inspire fear). But, at some point, he had lost sight of himself. Or maybe there was no 'self' to go back to. (Go where, go where, go where?)
Loki had tried to channel who was before this bloody mess, cocky and flirty and selfish and tricky (desperate for attention, lonely, lashing out). That wasn't fair, though.
Fair to who? Fair to Mobius? Pulling him along for the ride?
Fair to yourself.
It's like once you open yourself up to someone, you couldn't just take all that back. Talking to Sylvie, confiding in her, being vulnerable, was like slashing open tires and watching all the air stream out in a hiss. You can't shove the air back through the rip.
It's Sylvie's fault it's Sylvie's fault it's Sylvie's-
It's your fault. Be responsible for your own actions.
Loki stood up and slammed his hand against the wall. It hurt like Hel. Apparently the mental command to be responsible for his own actions was too much to take. The wall was thin (how had he not realized Mobius was on the other side all those nights?) and he could feel it bend under his fist. He wished it cracked, that would've been more satisfying. His hand was stinging, and he looked to see if it was red.
It was blue. Turning blue. Sapphire, azure, cyan.
No.
In seconds, his muscles were burning again. He was back in the room at the club, slitting Bob's throat. He was holding the Casket of Ancient Winters and his entire world was crumbling around him.
Why is this happening?
In the club, he had barely registered it. He ignored it. Pushed it to the back of his mind. But there was no escaping it here. (gray walls, gray floor, gray bedspread. then suddenly blue)
His body and mind were rebelling.
Is Odin's magic on me weakening as I travel through time? Is it because I'm losing sight of who I am? Is it because recent traumas are reminding me of the worst times in my life? Is it because my magic is growing in power now? Are all logical questions Loki could be asking himself. Instead, he had stumbled back from the wall, fallen flat on his bed, and could only think of the lyrics to a song he had heard playing in Target. Specifically the men's clothing section.
/'Cause I am done with my graceless heart/
The blue was spreading up his arms. He was so cold. This couldn't be happening. It has to be a trick.
/So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart/
"No no no no no no!"
/'Cause I like to keep my issues strong/
It was like Loki's entire being had just been constantly reminding him of everything he hated about himself ever since Sylvie had shoved him through that time door.
/It's always darkest before the dawn/
"Loki? Are you okay?" Mobius was at his door, knocking gently.
"Don't come in here," Loki yelled angrily. It almost sounded like a growl.
It was cold. It was freezing. The gray walls were a tomb. Blue skin. Blue hands. His muscles were bursting out of their casings. Loki twisted the sheets around his fingers, nearly cutting off his circulation. He closed his eyes, face screwing up in pain or disgust. Cold waves of nausea were rolling from his stomach to his skull.
Mobius came in. Of course he did.
"Loki," he breathed.
"Get out," Loki snarled. His chest was heaving with panicked breaths. He was trying extremely hard to keep his bones and muscles small. Compact. Flashes of light were popping behind his eyes with the force of his concentration. Tiny galaxies.
He sat up on the bed. Mobius was standing in the doorway, awestruck, like he was looking at a cool butterfly and not an abomination. There was a single mirror in the room, and in it, Loki could see his reflection. His skin was almost all blue, and the subtle markings on his face were already fading in. His eyes flickered red as he tried to fight it off. (fight off what? yourself?) The strangest part is that he was blurred around the edges, like he was moving millimeters in every direction constantly. Tinged green.
I'm keeping myself small with magic.
"Loki," Mobius said again. Loki whirled his head around to look at him. (always whirling, never stops.) He jumped out of the bed, pointing a finger at the former analyst.
"I told you not to come in." Loki's voice was daggers and stone.
"Why not?"
Loki took a few hysterical breaths, almost laughs, almost screams. It's too much. His muscles were bursting and he had a searing headache. The waves of nausea hadn't stopped. He was so tired of falling to pieces in minutes. (what do you do after everything falls apart? maybe you just keep dissolving till there's nothing left)
"Because- Becau- Because I don't need you to see every, single, evil, disgusting part of me." Loki took a step forward. Holding his hands out like he was going to throttle Mobius and shaking them as he spoke.
Mobius tilted his head to the side, exactly like he had the first day they met. ('I don't see it like that.')
"Loki," Mobius said, voice hushed. Reverent. His eyes were soft, brows gently raised. "You're beautiful."
Loki took a step back, face falling from rage to shock. His mouth hung open slightly. Beautiful?
It was like someone had dumped hot water over him. Suddenly, images and feelings were flashing through his head. (Beautiful? Beautiful? Beautiful? Beautiful?)
'That's not how I see it.' Mobius pulled him up from the floor. 'It's adorable that you think you can manipulate me'
/Shake it out/
'You can trust me. I understand I have to earn that trust.' 'LOKI WAIT' Love is a dagger.
/Shake it out/
'Your girlfriend' 'It's breaking MY reality' 'You betrayed me- YOU betrayed ME'
/Shake it out/
'You could be anything you want. Even someone good.'
/Shake it out/
'So I'm just supposed to trust the word of two Lokis?' 'How about the word of a friend.'
/Shake it out/
'MOBIUS!' 'Thanks for the spark' 'Thank you my friend' Mobius had been so warm. So solid. (the only thing in the world)
/Shake it out/
Finding him again. Falling into him. (the only thing in the world)
/Shake it out/
Standing in door frames. Dancing under flashing lights. Holding a knife to his throat and then putting on the bandage. Steam and mirrors.
/Shake it out/
Silver hair glowing in artificial light. In Shane's old room, so close he could've kissed him. Love is a dagger.
/Shake it out/
Loki's form rose a few feet as he stopped focusing on staying small. Then he sunk down again. Lightheaded like he stood up too fast. Eyes burning. The reflection in the corner of his eye was turning back to ivory. Loki started laughing.
Well this is new.
Mobius was still looking at him, concerned. Like he wasn't sure what he was allowed to do. Loki was shaking.
Loki made a dismissive gesture with one hand and used the other to pinch the bridge of his nose, looking at the floor. (gray gray gray)
"Are- are you ok?" Mobius asked, tilting his head down like he was trying to meet Loki's gaze.
Loki nodded. "Yeah just- just give me a second. Alone."
Mobius stepped back out the door. Slowly, carefully, like Loki might change his mind. "I'll be in the control room…" His voice trailed off. He seemed at a complete loss, for once. Like he didn't know how to proceed and was not enjoying that fact. And then he was gone.
The room was empty. The air conditioning shut off with a click. (Apparently Aeyhle is air-conditioned, go figure). The only sound was Loki's uneven breaths. He turned to his right, looking back at himself in the mirror. Tall, dark hair, angular face. His skin was his own again (or, not his own). The only blue was his eyes. His heartbeat pounded thickly against his ribs, and he was flushed with adrenaline. Like he had just been sprinting.
Loki waited a few minutes in the silence to make sure Mobius wasn't coming back. Then, slowly, without really knowing what he was doing, he began to unbutton his shirt, watching himself in the mirror. He didn't need to go through the process of unbuttoning it, he could've just magicked on something else. But he wanted to see himself. A few of the buttons slipped under his clammy fingers. Finally, he kicked off his pine-green slacks (really, very inconvenient clothes to fight in).
Staring at himself, he slowly lifted his hands from their place at his side and hugged his arms around his ribs. Looking so vulnerable, white framed in gray. He glared at the reflection. Like it had failed him. There was no blue left on his skin.
You're beautiful.
Loki had oftentimes thought he was fairly attractive. (A god).
But beautiful? Beautiful was reserved for things you put on pedestals, things you favored, things that were delicate and good and innocent. Not for frost giants.
Am I beautiful? The question felt ridiculous, inane and childish.
Watching his reflection, Loki realized he had begun to cry. Not violent, angry, frantic tears. But soft. Rolling down his cheeks and refracting light.
Is this how I looked to Sylvie when she betrayed me?
He had bared his soul for her. But while he had seen all his goodness in her, she had only seen her flaws in him. Loki closed his eyes. His throat burned.
Blood pumped in his ears. Steady. Thumping. Constant.
He took a deep breath, laughing a bit to himself and wiping his eyes. Like he was embarrassed. (he was)
The green silk robe was lying on the floor, so he put it on. His skin felt numb but his soul was on fire. (/shake it out shake it out, shake it out shake it out./ love is a dagger. only thing in the world.)
Mobius.
"I don't see why you can't go without me, I don't even know why we're still doing this together."
But he did. He did, he did, he did. (/It's hard to dance, with the devil on your back/)
Loki was walking down the hallway in a flash of silk and glint of green. He could see the control room, still dark. He slowed down as he approached the doorway. Mobius was sitting in the chair on the left, staring out the window and drinking something amber in a glass. He heard Loki and turned his head towards him slightly.
In the reflection of the windows, Loki could see his dark outline framed by the well-lit hallway behind him. He stepped inside the control room and shut the door behind him. It was dark, but there seemed to be some light source outside the windows. Like the black was glowing.
"It's only like, 2pm," Mobius said, noticing Loki's robe as he sat down in the open chair.
"I don't think time applies to us here," Loki responded, sinking deeper into the cushion.
"You know what I mean."
"Says the man drinking at 2pm."
Mobius gave a short laugh into the silence and darkness. Loki turned to look at him. The former analyst was all shades of gray in the half light.
"Do you want some?"
"Gods yes," Loki sighed, tilting his head up in the chair and closing his eyes. The room smelled like air conditioning, sweat, and alcohol.
He could hear Mobius pick up a bottle from the other side of his chair, and another glass.
He knew I'd come.
Loki opened his eyes as Mobius handed him the glass. It was cold and solid in his fingers. Simple, but refracting the barely-existing light. Loki passed it from his left hand to his right and took a sip. It burned all the way down. Sweet and harsh.
Tilting his head back again, Loki kept his eyes open. One hand lightly held the glass, and the other dangled over the side of the armrest. He blinked, slowly.
"We can go check on Thor."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"What changed your mind?" Mobius's voice was cautious, like he didn't want to spook the god.
"For one, you were right," Loki said, taking another sip and clearing his throat. Mobius chuckled.
"I love hearing you say that."
Loki smiled into the darkness. "And for another, I don't want you to go without me."
Mobius was silent for a bit. "I wouldn't."
Mobius had put down the glass, and now his hand was just an inch or two from Loki's. Loki didn't respond. After a beat, Mobius spoke again.
"Are you okay? I'm serious." His voice was worried.
Loki smiled into the darkness again, this time mirthlessly.
"I will be. But I don't want to talk about it now."
"And here I thought you loved to talk…" Mobius joked, voice trailing off. Their hands were so close that Loki could feel Mobius's body heat. The song from Target was ringing in his ears, the bridge specifically.
/And I'm damned if I do/
"You are beautiful." Mobius was speaking to the void, to the glowing dark, to the shadows and the alcohol on their breath. He almost whispered it.
/And I'm damned if I don't/
Their fingers were brushing, so lightly that it sent a thrill through Loki's stomach.
/So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road/
Loki finished the liquid in his glass. Burning him from the inside out.
/And I'm ready to suffer/
Loki's heart was throbbing painfully (what do you do after everything falls apart?). He had half a mind to sprint out of the room as fast as he could, put up the barriers again, spin off to the furthest corner of time and space, and destroy himself (but you can't put air back in a tire).
/And I'm ready to hope/
Slowly, so slowly, Loki moved his fingers and hooked them under Mobius's. The darkness was glowing. Maybe it was sparkling. (what do you do after everything falls apart?)
/But it's a shot in the dark/
Their fingers were interlocked. Mobius's hand was warm and strong, Loki's was cold and slender.
/Aimed right at my throat/
Now Mobius had his head tilted back, eyes closed. He wasn't gray, he was every shade of silver. The darkness was alive, their breath was its pulse.
(maybe you just hold on to each other. like it's the only thing in the world. like it's concrete.)
ahhh I really enjoyed writing this chapter, lots of imagery and turmoil. plsplspls lmk how im doing in the reviews. what are y'all hoping to see more of? less of? how's my pacing? is the worst part of this story me constantly begging for feedback? (yes lol). Luv u all so much and hope u enjoyed this