Summary: Agent Mobius is a hard worked man. His job tears him down to his limits. It's relentless. He's learned not to bother with nightclothes, as he always seems to be needed for one reason or another. One-shot. Pre Loki series.
Just A Wink Of Sleep
Mobius M. Mobius sighed in relief as the door of his living quarters closed behind him, allowing his work facade to slip away. Exhaustion dragged at him in full force. He looked over the main entrance of the TVA apartment, feeling more welcome than ever. It wasn't often that he got a break from working.
He briefly considered cooking himself up a meal, but decided against it. He was much too tired to be bothered with such a thing. He'd grab something before he got to work when he would be inevitably awoken for one reason or another.
The couch creaked under his weight as he sat down. He slipped off his shoes and pulled off his jacket, laying it across the nearest armrest. He set his baton on the corner table- he'd nearly pruned himself once, in the beginning of his time as an agent, falling asleep with the thing hanging on his belt. That'd been a horrifying thing to wake up to, and so, he'd learned his lesson.
He flinched when the television turned itself on, Miss Minutes appearing. The clock began to tell him of the most recent discoveries and news around the base, but he didn't pay it any mind. Another variant or two pruned, whatever. It was normal. Normal enough, anyway.
Mobius allowed his shoulders to slowly sag. He let out another sigh as his head fell into his hands. He ran a hand through his short cropped hair, massaging his temples. His skin felt as cool as his mind felt detached from reality.
He frowned as the face of a little boy flashed before his eyes, heart clenching at the memory of the mission he'd just wrapped up. He knew the variant had yet to do wrong, that he would become one of the universe's most dangerous foes if not taken care of. But, he had only been a child.
He hated having to prune anyone, but children in particular weaved their way into him, making him regret his part in protecting the Sacred Timeline.
Not that the Time-Keepers cared. He had a duty to fulfill, regardless of his wishes.
Which was why he never took any short break for granted. He'd long since learned to enjoy every spare moment, every wink of sleep he could get. It wasn't often he could take a moment to sit back and breathe.
As he lay back on the couch, wearing his day clothes- he'd learned that it was completely and utterly pointless to even bother changing to rest when the door could burst open at any moment- and the expression of a man resigned to his fate, he closed his eyes.
Miss Minutes droned on, clueless to his lack of attention. Or careless, perhaps. Either way, he didn't listen to a word spoken from the clock. To him, it was background music. One constant he could rely on, one thing that would always be the same. It brought him peace, somehow.
Mobius felt his stiff form relax, melting into the cushions of the couch. However short a time he'd be allowed to sleep, he'd certainly be thankful for it. If there was ever a time he'd needed it most, that was now.
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips in relief as he felt the welcoming tendrils of sleep pull at him.