"I don't like this."

"You don't like relaxing on the beach and sipping slowly on margaritas?" Or whatever they're called.

She sniffed, offering a small shrug as her gaze wandered to the retreating waves. "It seems pointless."

"Of course, it is."

"Then why are we doing it?"

He flashed a sly smile. "Because it's pointless."

"You're so weird."

"I was wondering when you were going to return the sentiment."

"Hmm."

With a quick roll of his eyes, Loki finished off his drink. "You know, the beach isn't one of those places that requires you to be alert at all times."

"I know that."

"And yet, you haven't touched your drink."

The most Sylvie offered him was a shrug. "I gave it a go."

"And…?"

"I hate it."

"Good." Before she could protest, he snatched up the salted glass, replacing it with his empty one. "I didn't want to get up, anyway."

"Don't you find it a bit… tedious?" She inquired after another moment or two, shifting slightly on her beach chair. "Just laying here for hours on end, I mean."

Loki shrugged and adjusted his sunglasses. "I'm sure I will soon enough. For now, it's nice."

"Nice, yes. Hmm. Well, I suppose you would think melting under the sun is nice."

"Who's melting?"

"I am," Sylvie replied with a certain air of finality Loki couldn't decipher. "I'm going back to the bar."

"But your drink is right here."

"You mean your drink," she pointed out. "I'm going for the air-conditioning."

Loki could practically feel the confusion scrunching his features. "Air-conditioning."

"Yeah. You know, that wonderful little system that blows cool air in your face when you're absolutely about to die from heat-stroke?"

"Seeing as I can't recall ever being absolutely about to die from heat-stroke," he replied with a smirk, "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, how in the Nine did you ever survive those dreadful Asgardian summers?" But before Loki could think about making any sort of reply, Sylvie slung her green beach wrap around her shoulders and sighed. "Look, Asgard might not have had any air-conditioning, but the TVA did, as well as most of the other places I've traveled to in this century. So, I'm going where it's cool. You're free to stay here and melt in the sun if you wish."

"Thank you," Loki said with a quick bow of his head, his smirk growing.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're impossible sometimes?"

"A few times, perhaps. But if that's true of me, wouldn't it be true of you as well?"

"Like I said," Sylvie said, flashing a smile that bordered on impish. "Impossible. Have fun."

"Bold of you to assume my fun ever stopped."

As she retreated back to her beloved air-conditioning, Loki was almost certain he heard her muttering the same word over and over again.

He took a long drink. "You're impossible."

"You two done?"

Despite the familiar voice and the shadow now hovering over him, Loki didn't look up. Instead, he took another sip of Sylvie's abandoned drink. "She's gone, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Mobius replied after a minute.

"Then," Loki said, adjusting his sunglasses against the blazing sun, "we're done."

"Good." With a heavy sigh, Mobius settled himself into Sylvie's empty recliner. "'Cause I didn't come here to listen to you squabble all the time."

"We don't squabble. Not all the time," Loki amended after his friend shot him an unamused look.

"All right, I'll give you that one. For now. Where'd she go, anyway?"

"Back to the bar to enjoy the air-conditioning."

A small grin tugged at the corners of Mobius' lips. "You say it like it's a bad thing."

"Well, I was under the impression that one goes to the beach to enjoy the sun, not man's feeble attempt at recreating winter."

"She's got the right idea, though," Mobius remarked after a moment, making a show of fanning himself with his hat. "Man, it is hot out here! The humidity isn't helping much, either. Maybe Sylvie'll bring back a few waters."

"Or another margarita."

"Or another margarita. Even better. I'm guessing they didn't have anything like that on Asgard?"

"Like this?" Loki gave his head a vigorous shake. "No, of course not. Everything on Asgard was much stronger. This is merely… refreshing. So, how was the water?"

A soft sigh filled the air as Mobius closed his eyes. "You know something? I could jet ski forever. I could live on a jet ski. The only reason I'm here right now is 'cause of the heat."

"And here I thought it's because you were craving my company," Loki said with a smirk.

Mobius snorted, but didn't do much else in his defense. And for a blessed few moments, the two friends sat in silence, simply enjoying the soft sound of the waves and the beach ambiance.

For a time, everything was fine.

At least, that's the lie Loki had been continually feeding himself. If he ignored the heat, perhaps it would just go away—another lie, though not as skillfully told as some of his others.

All he needed was another drink to cool the searing flush in his cheeks. And maybe, if he could catch a quick nap, he wouldn't have to think about the stifling air—and he might get a nice tan in the process.

When Loki fed lies to others, it was truly a craft unmatched, however, when he tried to work the same mischievous magic on himself, his efforts fell short. One could even call them pathetic.

Perhaps the most pathetic part of it was the fact that Loki had fallen for them. He believed every weak lie he told himself.

And he ignored the heat and humidity as if his life depended on it.

He ignored the way his skin burned and the thick sheets of sweat soaking his forehead.

He ignored the oncoming headache by focusing on downing his margarita, then proceeded to ignore the heaviness gripping his chest.

Because if he didn't think about that, then he wouldn't compare the feeling to that of Mjionir pinning him down on the Bifrost, which meant he wouldn't think about Asgard. About home.

And he wouldn't think about his family.

About Thor.

Under the protection of his sunglasses, Loki squeezed his eyes shut. Thor. Not for the first time, he wondered what his brother was up to. What point in the timeline was he working through now? And would he be proud of everything Loki had done to help take down the TVA? Would he be proud of how much Loki had grown? And Frigga… Would she be proud as well? Was she even still—

No, his throbbing mind growled at him. No, stop it. Did we not agree we wouldn't entertain those kinds of thoughts?

Loki felt his jaw tighten, which only added to the building pressure in his head. Right.

With one last guzzle of his drink, he banished the intrusive thoughts and set his focus on the rolling waves. The unpredictable in and out pattern gave him the feeling of floating and had him gripping the sides of the recliner in a vain effort to center himself again.

"You all right?"

Loki forced himself not to start. How he had forgotten that Mobius was sitting right next to him was beyond his foggy reasoning.

"Of course," he replied, voice as calm and cool as he could make it in the broiling atmosphere.

"You're gripping that chair like it'll bite you if you let go. That doesn't seem like a good definition of all right to me."

Sometimes, Mobius was far too perceptive for his own good. Or for my own good…

"What? The metal's cool." It was a lame excuse, and he knew it, but it was the best his normally silver tongue could conjure up in the heat.

Mobius just looked at him as if he were completely insane. Maybe I am.

Yes, you are. You definitely are.

"Cool? Loki, that chair's been baking in the sun all day. If anything, it's slowly burning your fingers off as we speak."

At this suggestion, Loki's hands made an immediate retreat back onto his lap. There was a slight tremble to them, but perhaps if he ignored it, Mobius would as well.

Yes, well done. What a perfectly well-thought-out plan. Very good. Absolutely brilliant, Loki—

"Did you re-apply yet?"

Mobius' question brought with it a new sort of confusion—as if the haze of the heat wasn't enough of a battle already.

Furrowing his brows hurt, yet he did it anyway. "Re-apply?"

"Yeah. Sunscreen. You know, the thing I gave you and Sylvie before heading out to…" Judging by his friend's reaction, Loki could only assume that his own reaction had been less than satisfactory.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You didn't even put any on, did you?" Instead of waiting for Loki to reply, Mobius pinched his crooked nose. "I can't believe you."

"People rarely do." The quip slipped out before Loki could stop it, though Mobius didn't seem to notice. That, or he was past the point of caring.

"Did Sylvie at least…? You know what? Nevermind. I'm pretty sure I already know the answer. Man, you'll definitely be feeling that tomorrow." A sort of disappointed chuckle filled the air between them as Mobius shook his head. "You two are gonna have one heck of a burn—but especially you because she's back at the bar in the shade and you've been baking out here for… How long has it been now?"

"Long enough, I'm guessing," came Loki's dry response. "And for your information, I rarely got sunburnt on Asgard." So there.

"Yeah," Mobius said with another chuckle, "that's probably because you stayed inside most of the summer. Am I right?"

The beads of sweat forming underneath his rashguard had turned into thick pools, gluing the dark green shirt to his skin.

But that was fine. It's fine. Perfectly…

He just needed a drink. Yes, of course. That's—

When his glass came up empty, Loki suddenly found himself wishing he could telepathically communicate with Sylvie. Because perhaps she could bring him another—

Or there's always the water. Yes, the water would be cold and refreshing.

But it was far. So far. Too far, actually. Besides that, it was too salty for consumption.

Maybe, though… Maybe he could make it there without… Without what? Falling? No, his mind scoffed, best stay right where you are.

After all, the air was too thick to be moving around in; too heavy. On top of that, the sand would occasionally flip over itself and he didn't want to try walking on that.

"Loki?"

Loki told himself he'd been paying attention.

"Loh-kee."

That Mobius was snapping his fingers and sing-songing his name because he was just… well, Mobius.

"Loki!"

Not because he'd been zoning out. And certainly not because his ears wouldn't stop ringing.

Loki couldn't recall even dipping his toes into the water since they had arrived… So why did he feel like he was swimming? Like he couldn't resurface in time to take a breath…?

The firm hand on his shoulder did nothing to ground him. It merely tightened its grip and started shaking.

Oh, stop! Stop, will you?

"Loki!"

A feeble hmm? was all he could manage as he floated off the recliner with the steadying hand's helpful aid.

Or not so steadying. Loki realized this the moment his body began its rebellion against him, swaying this way and that without rhyme or reason.

Reason… No, there had to be a reason for this… this feeling. This nauseating feeling that wouldn't go away.

If anything, as Loki fought to catch his balance, the feeling seemed to intensify at far too rapid a pace.

The hand fought to keep him upright, but still, Loki felt his legs buckle all the same. His control was fading—if he'd even had any to begin with. Control had always been one of his only goals that constantly sailed just beyond his reach.

And now, he didn't even have control over his own body as it continued to fall, fall, fall…

"Loki!" Two hands gripped him now, steadying his shoulders and pulling him upright again. "Are you okay?"

It occurred to him that this was quite a ridiculous question to ask… and that he was doing most of his swaying mere inches away from Mobius.

Mobius. The only one standing between him and a mouthful of sand.

The only thing keeping him off the ground and out of the dark void.

"Fine," Loki heard himself say. Satisfied that his voice sounded somewhat normal and decidedly not as shaky as his vision, he pressed on. After all, lying had long ago become something far more than second nature. "I was just a bit dizzy for a moment there."

If Mobius believed him, he certainly wasn't going all-out to show it.

"Really," Loki insisted, daring to brush his friend's hands away. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh. How much water have you been drinking?"

"If it will ease your mind, mother," Loki continued with a mocking frown as he worked frantically to keep the nausea at bay, "I've had two margaritas, or whatever you call them."

"Yeah, alcohol doesn't count as water." And if Loki didn't try to clear the blurry edges of his vision, he wouldn't have to see the disappointment and worry etched all over Mobius' face.

"They were iced."

"They're alcoholic beverages. And guess what: they don't hydrate you. They dehydrate."

Right. Of course. Why hadn't he remembered that earlier? He was no stranger to drinking, though he didn't partake in heavy party drinking like Thor—never as much as Thor.

No, remember, don't think about—

Still. Still. He should've paced himself. Yes, because that worked so well back on Lamentis.

"Well," Loki began slowly, focusing all his efforts on keeping a steady voice and a firm smile, "perhaps it's time to join Sylvie at the bar, then."

Just get me out of this blasted sun! he wanted to scream. But screaming took too much energy—a valuable resource of his that was quickly depleting.

Mobius latched another hand onto his arm, but this grip felt gentler. Cautious, almost.

"Good idea." And he quirked a half-smile. "You were overdue for one of those."

"You're absolutely hilarious," came Loki's dry reply, but he followed the former TVA agent without protest.

Almost there. Almost there. This became Loki's mantra as he trekked the normally short distance from the beach to the small indoor bar. Keyword: normally.

The nausea never waned and the dizziness only increased as they moved along. Soon, Loki found himself comparing the rapid drumming of his heart to the beat of his throbbing head. They made up a nice little melody of pain. If his heart were to suddenly burst into a thousand pieces during its abnormal exercise, would his head follow suit or be doomed to play solo?

A morbid distraction, to say the least, but a distraction it was.

"Loki?"

It took a moment for him to realize they'd stopped. Right under the searing sun. Brilliant, Mobius, just—

If he could just lay down for a second… After all, they weren't moving, anyway. Just for a few seconds… I promise, I'll—

"Loki!"

The hands were gripping him again, almost as tightly as he'd held the recliner earlier. Almost…

This time, however, they didn't pull Loki back onto his feet. They couldn't, really. That's all right… That's fine…

"Loki, stay with me! Come on!"

Sure… Only, his muscles were screaming at him. He couldn't make them move. And he couldn't make them stop, stop!

He just wanted it all to stop.

Mobius was hovering over him, shouting a jumble of different things to… someone… someplace…

His eyelids were too heavy and the world was a mess anyway.

Yes, it was far easier just to let the darkness take him. Even if Loki had wanted to stay, to answer Mobius' frantic calls with his dry, heavy lips. Even if he'd wanted to stay awake…

Stay… awa…

He never really had much of a choice.