The morning after Mobius' first visit to Loki's room, Loki dresses in a fresh set of clothes he finds have appeared on his bedside table and takes breakfast alone before checking his TemPad for an assignment. There are only a few notes on what he can do in the library, all of them tasks that any analyst can claim in their down time. He's not even sure he is still in the TVA's file system, this being a different organization than the one he came from. He heads to the library and sets to work, trying to ignore everyone else around him. This isn't his world and draws on a survival skill he cultivated before New York- never letting down his guard, running his senses on high at all times, any noise, smell, motion, a potential risk. It was something he was hoping to be able to learn not to do, given patience from friends. Safety. Rest. But there can't be that here. Not in a world in which he doesn't belong, an invader, imposter, from another time.
He flips through files, looking for small pieces of information requested by other analysts. Nothing seems interesting, nothing stands out, and after what seems like an unbearably long morning, he takes his lunch, also alone, while Mobius talks to someone else animatedly across the room. He finishes quickly and passes them on the way out of the dining area, his eyes on the ground in front of him as he tells himself he can't stop to say hello. There are more files waiting for him and despite his boredom, there is nothing else he can think to do that won't draw suspicion that he doesn't belong. And if there is one thing he desperately doesn't want to do, it is be noticed.
Loki works until long after dinner has started and arrives at the very end of the dining period, taking his supper back to his rooms. He eats alone, wishing he could be sitting instead with Mobius and feeling like he at least somewhat belonged in this world. He had, at least a little, when they were investigating Sylvie together, a common puzzle to solve, and a friendly competition between minds. And then his thoughts return to the one person he doesn't want to think about and he pushes the rest of his supper aside and goes to bed early, hoping he doesn't dream.
He loses track of the days, spending them in the same pattern, and it is only when Mobius visits him again one evening, a pile of folders in his hand, that he speaks more than a few words to another person.
"Loki? Can I come in?"
"I suppose," Loki answers, stretched out on the bed, absentmindedly tossing a paper cup in the air as he stares at the ceiling.
Mobius steps in the room and locks the door, "If anybody asks, I'm consulting with you on a case- some really sensitive stuff. Wanted to make sure we'd be sure to be far away from anybody with prying ears."
"And why are you really here?" Loki asks.
Mobius shrugs, "Because you're not yourself lately. You don't even say 'hi' when we pass in the hall."
"I didn't think we were supposed to act like we knew each other," Loki replies.
"There's a difference between acting like we're friends and acting like you don't see me," Mobius answers, "And you can come down in between those things and still be fine."
Loki sighs, "I'm sorry. I'm not handling this as well as you are."
"Who says I'm handling it well?" Mobius asks.
"Well it seems like you are. You're talking to people. You seem to have friends here."
Mobius shakes his head, "No, I have colleagues here. We're coworkers. But friends? I don't have many of those. Two, it seems, though this version of Judge Renslayer seems to think we're buddies again. I don't know. Maybe it's the same variant I knew and she's just been reset. But let's just say having drinks together feels a little awkward after she had me pruned."
Loki turns his head to face Mobius, "I'm trapped here, Mobius. And the person who made me feel truly free is...I don't know. I don't know if she ever left where we were or if she's trapped there. I don't know if she's alive or not. And..." His voice trails off and he shakes his head as though to ward off his thoughts before returning to staring at the ceiling, tossing the cup, catching it as it falls down to his hand.
"Do you need to tell me more about what happened there?"
"No."
"Are you sure about that?"
"No."
Mobius sits in silence for a few minutes, waiting to see what happens, "Do you want me to leave?"
"No." This time, Loki's response doesn't sound uncertain.
Again, Mobius lets silence fall over them. And then Loki starts talking. His feelings when he first saw Sylvie get out of Mobius' car. Knowing Mobius was alive, so much relief in his heart at seeing both of them, but most decidedly him, knowing he'd been pruned and remembering his own shock and pain at being dissolved into light. Sylvie, he knew, could take care of herself and survive the TVA, so his reaction felt like a different form of joy and relief. And then a conversation on a hillside, realizing how much she meant to him, even if he didn't want to let himself admit it. Fear when she faced Alioth and it seemed she would be consumed, his desperate attempts to distract the beast not enough and the awe he thought he shared with her while watching another self raise Asgard from pure magic. Holding her hand and looking deep within himself for the skill to enchant Alioth to save them both. Not wanting to let go of her hand. Hesitation going into the citadel they found on the other side.
Loki pauses, breathing carefully, as though he's barely containing his emotions. Mobius stays still, waiting. And then the story begins again. Meeting the man behind the curtain. Listening to Sylvie's biting comments. Being called a villain and feeling his heart sink into his stomach, none of his changes mattering to anyone but himself, Sylvie's entire focus on the person on the other side of the desk. Then, their fight. Crossed blades, her movements fierce as he tried to talk to her, to steady her, this viciousness directed at him more than he could understand. An admission that it had never been about a throne. Baring his heart to her in the only way he could think of, by showing her an outpouring of kindness, of empathy, he didn't know he was capable of gifting anyone.
Again, another pause, but this time, the emotions break free and Loki is crying silently, still staring at the ceiling, tears streaming down his cheeks while he lays perfectly still. It takes him time to speak again, his voice trembling as he tells Mobius what it felt like when her lips met his, the rising feelings in his chest, the beauty of finally knowing he'd found someone who could accept him with all his flaws and uncertainties. The moment he knew that she was telling him he was worth love, regardless of what the world "love" meant to either of them. Breaking the moment of shared breaths, praying in that moment that he had convinced her this mattered.
And then being shoved through the doorway into this world, blasted back by a force so powerful he couldn't understand it, given what had happened moments before. The panic of needing to get back to her, knowing the choice she was making was not a rejection of who he was (she'd proven that), but knowing that she had pushed him back so she could take her next action without his interference, his trying to convince her of another way the story should end. Loki felt, with all his being, that when the door sealed between them, her back already turned, she was telling him she couldn't have him in her way. And having him there had brought doubt into her mind when the plan had once been so clear, so certain. He'd betrayed her by questioning her.
He tells Mobius of the moments after, of feeling his heart crushed under the weight of this loss, feeling only a hollow despair that he knew would eat him from the inside, killing anything of him he felt was worthy of love. Then came the revelation- even if he'd lost Sylvie, Mobius had come back. He recalls the desperation in his heart as he searched, his mind clouded except for the laser focus on the need to find someone who could tell him he was still worthy, all while the longing to stand beside Sylvie, the fear for her safety weighing heavily on his shoulders. All he had wanted was for his friend to take him aside, tell him they'd find a way out of this, and to hug him and tell him he wouldn't leave him to figure things out on his own.
Loki stops talking and turns over, his back to Mobius; Mobius sighs, watching Loki's shoulders shake, "I'm so sorry, Loki. I didn't think you'd be hurting like this. All I knew was I had to find a way to keep us both safe."
"I know. I understand that now."
"Can you forgive me for being cold when I saw you?"
Loki sighs, "I don't know. I want to, but..."
"I get it. You don't have to do it right now. Take your time. Get to know your feelings. And maybe you'll figure it out."
"What do we do next, Mobius?" Loki says, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
"I don't know. Maybe the archivists can tell us something, see if she's been reinserted on a timeline somewhere. But...what's most likely?"
"That someone far worse has taken his place in the castle and she's dead."
Mobius stands and walks over to the bed; he places his hand on Loki's shoulder, "What do you need from me?"
"I don't know."
"OK. Well, if you think of anything, I'll be back in a few days. Who knows? Maybe we'll have a better idea of where she is if we keep our ears open. Sylvie never was subtle. If she can figure out how, I'm sure she'll send a sign."
Loki shakes his head, "No, she won't. I stood in the way of the one thing she's wanted most of her life. I told her I wouldn't betray her, but-"
Mobius gently cuts him off, "Loki, stop. Caring enough about someone to not want them to hurt themselves isn't betraying them."
"Thank you."
"Do you want a hug?" Mobius asks.
Loki shakes his head, then says, "Yes."
Mobius awkwardly bends down and hugs Loki. Loki grips Mobius' arm and tries to keep what little he's pulled himself back together in place. It fails. Loki falls apart, clutching Mobius' hand to his chest. As uncomfortable as he initially is, Mobius doesn't sit up, doesn't draw back his arm or shake Loki's hand out of his. He sighs and holds his friend in silence, unsure of what he should say or if there are even any comforts that wouldn't sound false in the face of such intense grief. So instead of saying all the wrong things, he simply lets the quiet of the room settle in around him until Loki takes a few steadying breaths and lets him go.
Mobius sits back and Loki slowly does the same, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, "Thank you."
"Yeah. Anytime," Mobius answers.
Loki tries to smile, "I'm glad you're still you. It's good to not be alone."
Mobius nods and smiles back, "I'm glad you made it, Loki. And we'll figure this out. I don't know how. None of it makes any sense, but...we will." He pauses, "But I need to get going before someone gets weird about me being here. Don't worry- if anybody says anything, remember- we were working on a super sensitive case. Nobody else gets the insider info."
"Of course, my friend," Loki answers.
Mobius stands and stretches, "Well, try to get some sleep."
"You as well."
Mobius nods to him before heading to the door. Once again, he fixes his stoic mask back in place, a serious analyst on serious business, and steps into the hall, making sure the door is locked behind him.
Loki heads to the bathroom, washes his face with cool water, and crawls back into bed. Even though things are still so very heavy on his heart, at least he knows for sure that he has someone in his corner and even if things go horribly awry, even if he never does find Sylvie (a though that hurts to consider), he will have a friend beside him, ready and willing to stand with him in his grief.