06 Rising Waves
What is wrong with me?!
The hard wall was an anchor against Hazel's back, helping the assistant to slowly collect herself. This section of the hallway was blissfully empty at the moment. Wherever Mobius had run off to was irrelevant; he'd have to come back this way, eventually. And staying in this temporary shelter between what had happened and what waited in that Time Theater was more than necessary right now.
It'd been a very long time since Hazel had this many conflicting thoughts rushing through her, let alone the strange twisting's and swirling's she could not understand. And as the adrenaline of the situation wore thin, a rising panic was quick to take its place.
What had she been thinking?! Interrupting a confidential interview, even being there in the first place, was more than grounds for disciplinary action. And while Mobius was a graceful superior, this particular behavior was unprecedented. Speaking out of turn alone got you demerits, and while the agent had yet to serve her any, she was sure there was a first time for everything. Positions at the TVA were a balancing act; one wrong move, one bad day, and you could very much be done. And while her boss was very kind, he also still played by the rules necessary to maintaining the Sacred Timeline.
Ones she may or may not have just broken.
Everything in her was screaming at the utter insubordination. You didn't do that here . Hazel had never once made a harsh comment against her superior, especially in front of a Variant. Granted she'd offered him advice from time to time, and there were certain moments that the agent even consulted her. She preferred to think he valued her opinions, low as they were, yet now—
I yelled at Mobius, while he was working, I really did that—?!
Why, why, today of all days, did her emotions have to get so stirred up?! She was a professional, for Keeper's sake! They had a job to do, an essential one, and she couldn't hold it together for that alone? Couldn't focus on the sanctity of the Sacred Timeline for ten minutes? Oh no, she just had to shove her nose where it didn't belong, again , and now—
I'm fired. I am so, so fired, and they're—they're going to—to me—
"You are a mistake."
The utter shakes wracking through her small form were allowed without a fight. What did it matter? There wasn't anyone here to see her fall apart. Even if there was, they wouldn't notice anyways. Just another P.A. awaiting commands and cowering in the dark. That's all she was. All she'd ever be. She'd known that for a long, long time; flashes of that Hunter passing through her, unbidden, unwelcome, causing tears to bud in her tormented eyes.
"And you won't be getting any more chances. I promise you."
Hazel absently wondered if she would come back with Mobius, the thought alone drawing a quiet sob. If the Hunter returned it only meant one thing; the small woman was done. And the thought of being torn from here, from this mission, from—from those desperate, broken eyes—
" Hey."
Her breath hitched, fingers twisting about her disheveled ascot. The memory of a cool touch settled against her shoulder, causing the woman to curl inward. To shift slowly, hesitant, shaking fingers laying on the spot where a much larger hand had been. And she gripped it, the fabric of her work blouse creasing beneath the desperate stress.
The idea of disobeying anything at the TVA was unspeakable. They'd all been granted life itself for this great cause; trillions of people depended on the work done here. Obedience and compliance were beyond necessary. That was how it worked .
Yet the moment she'd met those lost eyes, everything Hazel had ever clung onto began to slowly recede with a gentle tide.
Mobius had taken her on very few outside missions; that was the way of it. Assistants held their purposes and being on the Sacred Timeline usually wasn't standard. Yet being the kind of man he was, the agent had seen to include her now and then. They'd been very brief, but the gift of those memories were ones she'd hold dear for all time.
Hazel's knowledge of the worlds beyond the facility was a mixed bag; frankly she didn't fully trust everything Mobius told her, either. Some things just seemed too weird to be real, and the agent was fond of exaggerating details to see her reactions. Yet it never stopped her from prying; never quenched that eager curiosity that budded whenever he offered something new. The tales he'd weave of places far beyond her reach were indescribably fascinating, and the woman couldn't help getting lost in them, inwardly wondering at the complexity of the Sacred Timeline.
One topic in particular that she'd challenged him on was the oceans of Earth. How could a planet be full of water, yet not consumed by it? She'd seen bowls overflow in sinks before; wouldn't the seas do something like that, eventually? It was just strange. And what was the point of such a thing? Humans couldn't drink salt water without consequence, and the creatures in it weren't necessary for their food needs, so why did it exist? Mobius couldn't answer her then, only flashing her that knowing smile which rarely left his face, especially when he knew something she didn't.
"Sometimes kiddo, there isn't a reason. Sometimes things just…exist. Just waiting for us to find them, I suppose. The universe is a huge, weird place—you never know what's just out there, or why. But sometimes…when you see it, you know. And the 'whys' don't really matter anymore."
And the moment he'd stepped outside the portal and dragged her along, the gentle tides washing over her sinking heels, Hazel understood. Viewing the never-ending cascades of blues, stretching far as the eye can see, blending into the sky above and going on for infinity—the sound of it, so loud and strong, yet lashing so softly at her ankles—the way she could bend down and touch it, yet knowing it held depths she could only dream of reaching—
It had been breathtaking. Mysterious and beautiful, infinite yet contained, able to be so dangerous yet so gentle at the same time—
Hazel had never wanted to leave. To ever tear away from those rolling depths. The urge to dive in and never stop hadn't truly left her, even after Mobius dragged her home. She'd wanted so badly to just stay. It'd been such an odd reaction that she'd questioned the agent; unsure if she needed the infirmary, and so beyond confused it was rather embarrassing. Yet if there was anyone she trusted during such a moment it was the agent who regarded her with patient eyes and a warm smile, patting her shoulder with gentle understanding.
"Don't worry Haze, it happens to everyone who heads out onto the Sacred Timeline. Sooner or later, something or other will just tug away at our senses. It's to help remind us what's important. Why we do what we do. Things like that, they're worth protecting. You're just realizing how much it means, is all."
Yet despite every case that followed, such a depth of longing never truly occurred again. Granted the assistant rarely stepped out onto the field after that; she'd rather not linger on the reasons why, a flinch overcoming her contemplative features. But she'd held onto that odd sensation for years, turning it over in her mind again and again, wondering at just how deep and sharp and real it'd been. It was a dangerous game to play, allowing the blasphemous whispers to plague her instead of shoving them back into the far reaches of her mind.
But it had been hers to feel, and Mobius hadn't said it was wrong, so where was the harm, really? If he could read that silly Jet Ski magazine endless times, there wasn't any problem if she dreamt of that ocean now and then. If she held onto those emotions, stronger and more complex than any before, tucked carefully away in her heart. It wasn't like she ever expected to feel them again—
"It'll be okay. Alright?"
Her breath hitched sharply as the gentle timbre rolled through her mind, hand clenching ever tighter against the blouse's rough fabric. The chill spreading quickly from her shoulder across her entire being was strangely comforting, despite the confusion it brought. It honestly hadn't surprised her; regardless of his humanoid appearance, the assistant was well aware of Loki's true species. That wasn't the issue, not hardly. Him being something called a Frost Giant was actually fascinating in a way, adding to the thousands of questions she'd never get to ask. Especially now.
As if he'd even let someone like me ask something so personal. Keeper's sake, Hazel, really—
No, Hazel had just lived her entire life in a cold, unfeeling facility, the low temperatures a constant reminder to keep moving. The only relief came during resting hours, when she could finally curl up beneath the extra blankets Mobius had collected for her over the years. Having to leave that warm embrace at the restart of each cycle was never pleasant, not that she'd ever admit such a thing. No, the cold hadn't ever truly appealed to her before—
The feeling of icy fingers wrapping about hers with such care broke swiftly through that thought.
Hazel shifted against the wall, hand rising to meet her conflicted gaze. Just what was happening?! It wasn't like she hadn't held hands with someone before. Granted it was only a few times, when Mobius saw fit to latch tight and guide her about. Frankly the assistant wasn't sure whether to find it sweet or insulting, given such contact was usually due to him lacking confidence in her navigational skills. And it had been so very long ago that his touch was a bare memory against her palm, replaced by soft claps on the back and gentle grasps of her shoulders. Yet it had happened, and she knew the feeling—
But the sensation of Loki's hand shifting about hers, that cool grip spreading in a pleasant tingle up her wrist, seeing her tiny fingers disappearing entirely beneath his—
And the strong rush of comfort it brought had been so sharp and real she could hardly bear it.
That. That was not how Mobius held it. Not hardly. That…that is new. And it was—it was nice, but—
Frankly, Hazel had no idea what to make of it. Any of it.
Ever since the Variant first acknowledged her, everything around the assistant had shifted. Whatever information the files had provided about him were proving more and more contradictory. To see the softness hiding in those storming eyes, to hear the conflict rolling in his pained voice—to know he could smile, so small and unsure but still there? It went against everything she'd learned about him. Everything Mobius had spoken on, too. It'd caused the twisting feelings within herself to curl all the tighter, the odd sensations kicking into overdrive the moment that prince fell to the floor.
Mobius had once described a volcano to his assistant; how the contents within it rolled and boiled, waiting for the day everything burst. And once the time had come, everything laying in wait beneath its surface literally exploded, its rage spreading wantonly along anything in its unfortunate path. Hazel had found such a concept to be overly alarming—the sheer destruction it could cause alone, not including the consequences of such a thing over time.
Yet having to sit there and watch her boss, the one man who'd been far too kind and overly fair to every Variant they'd ever dealt with, suddenly decide to turn into—into whoever that strangely cruel person was, laying into the fallen god again and again and again—
Everything within her had snapped, the proverbial volcano laying waste to this day, and whatever consequences awaited her from it.
Her hand curled into a tight fist at the thought, emotions warring harshly in her chest. Hazel wasn't completely sure what had initially pushed her to act. Whether it be the memory of Loki's soft, hidden smile, one that he hadn't needed to give—or the unexpected gentleness that kept slipping from him, one moment after the other. No matter how many times he hid behind those ever-shifting masks, the assistant couldn't, wouldn't forget the kindness that was buried underneath. Or the fact he'd seen fit to show it to her, no matter how small the exchanges had been. They had happened.
If he had a choice…who would he be? Because today he was kind. Kind to me! And he chose that—
And despite it all, Hazel couldn't stop wondering why. Refused to look away from that storming gaze, no matter how gentle or harsh it became. Even the rolling snap he'd leveled her with hadn't paused the assistant for long; of course he'd lash out at them, particularly given all of that. No, she couldn't blame the Variant for feeling trapped and alone, especially here.
Yet seeing those eyes, the ones that had looked on her so softly, suddenly growing so full of pain, of utter agony? To hear him being ripped apart word by word, in a way no one deserved to be? To see him laying on that unforgiving floor, looking for all the worlds like the most lost man in the universe, with nothing left to hold onto?
As if he were alone in the room, unable or unwilling to cry out, because who would hear—
"Please, don't do this! Please, I'll never cause you trouble again, I won't—"
It was as if those raging tides had found her again, washing over Hazel with strong abandon, bidding her to dive into its depths with no looking back.
All those emotions from long ago, the ones she'd held so closely at the back of her heart—they'd surged over her in a relentless wave. The twisting feelings that'd wound so tight only joined the onslaught, bearing down on the small woman without explanation or apology. And the strangest companion to them all was the deep, burning anger that had kindled so harsh and quick, rushing up her throat and splattering across the theater. Made her feet move so rapidly she'd almost tripped, placing herself between the fallen Variant and her own boss without hesitation. Without question.
Flashes of a small assistant took his place, cringing on that harsh tile; tears staining below with each broken word, pleading with the unfeeling shadow hovering above—
She'd dove into those furious waters without a thought if it meant pulling Loki out of them.
The ache blossoming in her chest was unwelcome company, albeit a distraction from the battle raging within her. Hazel wasn't ignorant to the fact of just how small she was; not just in stature, either. Given the vastness of the universe and the trillions of beings within it, she was more than aware of just how tiny someone like her was in the grand scheme of it all. Just why her fellow workers found disregarding her so very easy; why these halls were always overbearingly silent unless Mobius was beside her. At the end of the day she was just a little assistant making her way outside of time and space, serving a grander purpose than she could fully grasp. And that was all she was meant to be.
It was her place in all this. She was nothing; ultimately, she was no one. Just an easily replaced supporter at the bottom of a bureaucratic system holding the cosmos together. In the end she didn't really exist to anyone besides Mobius, and the thought was beyond difficult to come to terms with. But that was life. That was reality .
No one ever saw her.
Except for him .
When had her hands started shaking? Why did her palm feel so cold, spreading up her wrist without apology? A quiet swallow passed her throat as she reached, fingers trailing across the tingling appendage. The millions of questions that plagued her before surged to a near overwhelming degree, clattering against her teeth and begging to be released. Why was it that this person, this Variant who defied the odds stacked against him, had decided to notice her? To stare out into this universe and decide she, of all people, was someone worth acknowledging? And to do so in such a way; to offer soft tones and kind smiles, no matter how small?
Didn't someone like him know? Didn't he realize just how little she was, in all of this? How much a person like her didn't matter, in the end?
But he saw me. And he…he kept seeing me. Again, and again, and—
A shaky breath escaped her as she shifted, hands clasped tightly against her chest. Her heart had never raced so desperately before; as if it wanted to escape her chest and fly about the hallway. That odd twisting and swirling that'd overtaken her in the theater proved to make an encore, throat growing tight at it's return. As if her whole being was about to turn inside out, transforming her into something blasphemously foreign.
Whatever this Loki's reasons, the moment her boss had started tearing him apart, it hadn't mattered. The same urge that'd pushed her to following him into the theater struck tenfold. Every moment between them, no matter how small, had flashed so quickly across her mind—every theory she'd been building, every hope that clung onto her inner ideals gave a massive shove. Seeing this person that'd looked so sad and alone; knowing the life he'd lead so far, the losses he'd barely had time to process, seeing him like that—
" Enough, Mobius!"
Anger flashed through her at the memory, hands gripping so tight at her ascot it nearly yanked her downward. Yes, her actions were unprecedented; Hazel had never been purposefully insubordinate before. She'd never had reason to. The agent hadn't behaved in such a manner prior to this day; frankly it had been just as confusing as it was infuriating. Of all the Variants to try some new technique on, he picks this one? Knowing the stakes?! And Mobius had never dissuaded her participation before—granted she'd never given him cause to, but still. How could he do that, to that man, especially now?! How could he rip Loki apart again and again, expecting a positive result?
Yes, he was a Variant of someone who'd fallen from grace. That was his place . But it didn't mean they had to join him in that; shove him farther down into such an abyss instead of pulling him out. That wasn't the point of all this—at least it wasn't supposed to be. What was Mobius thinking ?!
How could the agent look that Variant in the eye and tell him Frigga's death was his fault? That was not only beyond cruel, but not the full truth of the matter. Yes, Loki's interference did help guide the flow of events. But even if he hadn't, that creature was still meant to find his mother. It was a Sequence Death; a permanent fixture on the Sacred Timeline, doomed to occur no matter what. Hazel didn't have a strong enough grasp on the concept of a parent, but the files were more than clear on how important that woman was to the fallen prince. Throwing it in his tormented face was so hurtful and, frankly, wholly unnecessary—
Mobius, I've never been disappointed in you before. But…how could you do something like that?!
And how could the agent ever expect her to just sit there and say nothing about it?!
Hazel never could fully support just how cruel some of her fellow workers could be. True it wasn't her place or position to judge; everyone had their purpose to fulfill, after all. Yet sometimes it felt overtly unnecessary. Variant's couldn't help their existence; no matter how discouraged it was to express that sentiment didn't change it's truth. Even if Mobius himself would chastise her, the assistant refused to accept that these doubles of beings dragged outside of the Sacred Timeline weren't actually people. It would be hypocritical not to, no matter how unspoken it went. And last time she checked, all living things could feel and bleed just like anyone else she knew.
That anger burned harsher within her at the realization, hands moving to fist tightly at her sides. The memory of Loki collapsed on that floor, looking for all the worlds like he wanted it to swallow him whole—
"Please, please—!"
If Mobius now expected her to approve of that kind of discipline, maybe it was time for her to get fired after all.
She wanted to regret the thought the second it passed, and some part of her did. The agent had been so generous to her; beyond supportive and so unbearably kind at times. Being at his side was a privilege, she was well aware. Yet the thought of that Variant and everything he went through was currently overpowering any other inclination.
The feeling of that cool hand, so much larger than her own, yet handling hers with such gentleness. The soft acknowledgements rising from his torn throat, the bare squeeze of his fingers wrapping about hers. That odd chill passing between their joined appendages, the first of its kind that she didn't feel inclined to pull away from. Such an unorthodox comfort from a surprising source, one she'd found difficult to leave.
Never in all her years at the TVA had Hazel felt this inclined towards anything as she did that prince, looking so unbearably alone on the harsh floor.
And the sound of rapid footsteps making their approach only proved to stoke those emotions further, her brow furrowing in determination.
Well, if I'm getting fired today, I might as well earn it. I just hope that…maybe…maybe I can say goodbye, to—
The memory of a large hand waving her off, that little smirk tugging at bruised lips, the warmth flowing in the tides of those ocean eyes—
The absolute chill rushing from her shoulder into her clenching palm, tingling in the oddest blend of comfort and encouragement she'd yet felt—
Brought the fire back into her namesakes, head snapping towards the agent with a stern glare.
Mobius, how could you?
Not even the contemplative looks on his face quenched her sparked fury. Obviously something bad had happened; lately that was the only reports flooding in. The fact that Hunter wasn't accompanying him did provide a wave of relief; a background note sounding in her heart. Well, maybe she was only partway fired. Maybe that was a thing? Yet not even that idea was enough to squash the flames rolling in her, hands tight fists at her side.
And when Mobius hurried past her with a raised hand, a dismissive finger waved quickly across her burning eyes, everything that had coiled and twisted within her gave way with a proper snap.
Oh no, not today, no sir—
"Hold that thought, kiddo," He'd barely glanced at her yet had the audacity to use that tone. That irritatingly knowing voice the agent had given her endless times. As if she'd always been an open book so easily read, looking straight through her at the most inconvenient moments.
Admittedly, it had often been a comfort to her. Yet here, in this particular moment, all it did was absolutely infuriate the bristling woman.
" Mobius —"
The pure fire rising from her throat was new. Hazel had felt angry before; it wasn't an unfamiliar concept, just typically one without purpose to her. And to feel it rolling so harshly was strange, but in an oddly exhilarating way. Like a tide rising and lashing at the shore, the deep blues turning into a raging storm—with the agent right in her warpath.
"Two shakes, I promise, then I'm all yours," He'd hurried too quickly down the hall, forcing the smaller woman to move. The rapid clacking of her heels bounced across the corridor, only adding to her irritated state. The Time Theater arrived far too soon, a blur of rushed breaths and too many stairs, the doors opened wide to greet them.
"Okay Loki, I think we can finish up tomorrow and just pick it—"
Hazel's heart skipped a moment, eyes casting quickly about the room—and noticing one major problem, stomach twisting painfully.
He's gone?!
How was that possible?! There was no way he walked out of these doors, and even if he had, it would've caused him to pass by the assistant. And if he'd been collected by other workers they also would've crossed her sight. The magic repression was always in place; the files on him flashed quick through her mind, and she knew he couldn't have slipped out of here by any of those means. Just how —
The sudden movements of the agent interrupted her panicked thoughts, his hands ducking wildly in and out of every pocket. And the realization hit her with an exasperated groan, giving her boss the most incredulous look yet.
Did he seriously leave the Time Collar controller in here? With a Loki?! Do I always have to check everything twice for him, Keeper's sake —
"Mischievous scamp!"
The exclamation proved to draw an eye roll out of her. Of all the days for her emotions to spill over and an utter fury to take their place, at least it was when he'd actually needed her to harp on him. The agent had an excellent memory for everything except technology; the number of times she'd had to run his forgotten TemPad to all corners of the TVA—and now this —
She couldn't help the harsh words burning up her throat, hands gripping against her hips in a very irritated stance. Of all days —
" Gee Mobius, when do you think he snatched it up?" This level of sarcasm was rare from her throat, proving to gain a raised brow from the flustered superior. " Before or after you accused him of murdering his own mother?!"
A long-suffering sigh dared to fall from him, hands shifting to mirror hers. They stood off against each other, albeit one carrying a note of amusement while his assistant only grew more irate.
" Someone woke up and chose snarky today."
Her shoulders tensed at the comment, arms shifting to cross tight about her aching chest. Dealing with this level of warring emotions was far too new; the adrenaline coursing in her near unbearable. Well, she'd come this far; if he was bound to dismiss her by the end of the day, there was no turning back. Not at this point. So—
"And I wonder who I get that from?" She near hissed, eyes glaring sharply at the greyed man. The humor slowly left him with another exhale, those wizened eyes passing over her in thought. He stepped toward her in a slow movement, and it took everything in her not to step back, keeping a tight lock on his softening gaze.
No, don't you dare try to weasel out of this with that look, no sir —
"You're really upset with me, aren't you?" That tone of his, cutting through the hurricane brewing inside her and reaching for the center. The flash of hurt passing his face, nearly forcing her resolve to drop. Mobius knew her far too well, and this just wasn't fair, something inside the woman wanting to run over and cry on his shoulder—
While the rest just really wanted to shove him back, annoyed by that very same fact.
" Upset?! No, Mobius, upset is when you misplace my files before I can return them. Upset is when you don't finish your paperwork on time. Upset is when I have to run around all of creation just to make sure your TemPad isn't left behind!" It fell in an irritated rage, hands gesturing wildly between them.
"I don't know what I'm feeling, but it's whatever happens when you watch your boss flat out torture a Variant! That is what I'm feeling, Mobius, tell me the name of that , since you know everything!"
Seeing her boss actually flinch at that reproach brought a wave of satisfaction. If nothing else came from this day, if her job here was truly done, at the very least maybe that would stick. If it spared another poor soul that kind of horrid deconstruction, and made this man remember the person he really was, then at least her time at Mobius' side would amount to something.
"I'm not upset," Her tone grew quieter, the flames of it burning low between them. "I'm just disappointed. Because I know you're better than that ."
He looked down with a shaking head, hands ducking tight into his jacket pockets. An awkward silence hovered between them, his eyes tightly shut with a long breath. Yet he managed to meet her gaze once more, his soft blues tinged with regret managing to quench a great deal of those flames alone.
"Okay. Okay, I get it. I deserve that." He admitted, taking cautious steps toward her. The urge to keep their distance was fading, the storm within her beginning to pull back. Feeling his hand clap tightly to her shoulder, giving it that squeeze she'd known so long, proved to break through the terrible reverie. Her breaths slowed to a normal pace, eyes easing their way to meet his.
Keeper's, it's hard to stay angry with him—
If her unclaimed shoulder held a tingling chill, that happened to quench what remained of that fire away, she only appreciated it all the more.
"You and me are gonna have a talk later, alright? A proper one. Good and long. I'll even let you take a swing at me if you need." His gentle smile was proving to bring out one of hers, tugging at her worried lips. "Just not in the nose, okay? It's my best feature. Can't let anything happen to it. Money maker and all." That drew a snort from her, encouraging the agent to move ever closer, standing firmly at her side.
Alright, fine, she'd put a pin in it—for now. That number of emotions hitting all at once had not only been confusing, but honestly exhausting. Whatever rationale was left from today was sparking in her mind, helping ground the assistant back to the issue at hand.
No, her boss wasn't in the clear just yet, but the amount of time they'd spent together—everything that'd happened to them over the years? It earned him more than one conversation. Even…even if it might end up their last, the thought causing her throat to tighten.
Well, at least it'll be a memorable day at work, right? For…for a little while, anyway. Until…until they—
"I know this has been a long, hard day, and a really confusing one too. That's on me. But right now, we really need to get the alert out." He nodded and moved forward, and she couldn't help but follow after him, heels clicking hurriedly in attempts to keep up. "If it hasn't already. Knowing that God of Mischief, he's probably terrorizing half the facility by now."
The reality of it returned hard and fast, like a punch in the center of her chest. If Loki was out there, wandering this infinite facility, wearing that jumpsuit, having his face—
We need to find him, now!
