--AN HOUR LATER--
"Did I or did I not say to hold on?"
"That is easier said than done! These machines are clearly not designed with the proper aerodynamics for their occupants to be safely airborne!"
"You can magically levitate! A couple of bounces from the wake shouldn't be a problem!"
Hissing under his breath and soaking wet from his inglorious flight off the back of the vehicle, Loki looks a bit like a very angry black cat. A flare of green as he stomps up the beach dries his clothing and sends his hair standing briefly on end, which doesn't do much to help the imagery. Mobius stifles a laugh before it can make matters worse.
Thankfully, most of the locals are having lunch, and the tourists are few and far-between on this Christmas Eve, likely doing last-minute gift shopping; otherwise the blatant use of magic might draw unwanted attention.
"Aw, come on. Try it again, we'll go nice and slow this time," Mobius calls after him.
"Nice and slow?!"
It's the wrong thing to say, obviously; Mobius catches that just a second too late, and hastily backpedals – physically, scootching the vehicle back out into the surf several inches. Loki finally flops down on the lounger under their conjured umbrella with a dramatic huff, manifests some kind of colorful drink, and promptly proceeds to ignore all else but his wounded dignity.
Shame they didn't get a picture of that spectacular pinwheeling splash, it would have made for a great TVA cafeteria poster.
Mobius spends the next few hours enjoying the sun and sea, noting absently that Loki at some point wanders back to the house, no doubt to be out of the most direct rays and midday heat, and only returns just before Mobius finally comes back in to shore. Cloud cover is beginning to form on the afternoon horizon. The storm is still a few hours off, but definitely on its way.
The jet ski abruptly disappears in a puff of chartreuse smoke about fifteen seconds after he's come ashore, but thankfully no one seems to notice that, likely also by magical design.
"That had better be back in my carport, not on the Moon or something," Mobius says mildly, taking the other lounge chair with a satisfied sigh.
"Your pride and joy is perfectly safe from personal retaliation," Loki drawls, tossing the book he had been idly thumbing through down onto a striped towel. "I trust you are enjoying your magical valet service while it lasts."
"Oh, I am." He settles back with a grin, though it fades into a somewhat weary grimace at the various aches and pains that come along with being in a place with normal entropy. "And you were right, I admit it."
"Obviously." A brief pause. "What about, in particular?"
Mobius chuckles, but it sounds a little forced even to him. "When you said I needed a break. I'm…" He shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes briefly with one hand. "I'm so tired, Loki."
"I know." A tight thread of concern, possibly even worry, is clear in the tone. "I have known. And I don't know how to help."
Mobius turns his head to see Loki sitting perpendicular to the lounge chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, hands absently fidgeting in front of him.
"Hey. You're doing fine."
"I am not," Loki replies, earnestly. "I have gone from being near multiversally omniscient, possibly omnipotent, to having a fraction of that power and knowledge, and it is terrifying."
Mobius shifts position to mirror him, and gestures for him to continue.
"I just – if I can't even protect you from yourself, Mobius, how in all the realms is there a ghost of a chance that I will be able to protect the TVA against what is coming? Against a never-ending army of Him? I guarantee you, the variants you have encountered of him so far are mere children compared to what lies ahead."
"Whoa, hey. First of all, you were the one who spearheaded getting me to take a break, so stop beating yourself up about that, at least."
"It is not enough."
"It is for me," he replies. "And as for the rest? Loki, you can manipulate Time at will. You're the most powerful entity I've ever met, or even read about. Including the Sorcerer Supreme or any other being of magic, because you can manipulate time without any kind of power source other than yourself.
"You hold the whole universe, every universe, literally in your hands. You could crush entire timelines in a matter of seconds, without even trying, and there's no one that would be able to stop you. Time is the greatest power in the universe, and whoever controls it, controls everything."
"No one is all-powerful," Loki says, low and pained. "And certainly not a Loki. We may be more powerful than we realize, but we are not without weakness."
"That's true. But you're a hell of a lot more powerful than you're giving yourself credit for, at least." Mobius shrugs, looking down at his hands for a moment. "So maybe you should start having as much faith in yourself as the rest of us do."
"And what if I am not who you think I am." The words are almost a whisper, painful and halting. "Doing what must be done, does not by default make one a divine savior. Power does not create good, it corrupts good. I am not a hero, Mobius. I don't even know if I can be."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I know myself," Loki replies, almost dispassionately. "In fact, I now know nearly every version of myself as well. There is nothing praiseworthy about our lives, Mobius. You know that as well as I do. There can be no final destination but Hel for us, if we are fortunate enough to actually die peacefully."
"Well, Valhalla always sounded a little boring to me, anyway."
"This is not a joke."
"And I'm not really joking." Mobius leans forward for a brief instant, putting a hand on his. "In my book, the real heroes don't lead wars, Loki. They're the ones who don't make the cut for the Halloween costumes and action figures. The ones who do the ugly jobs, the thankless jobs. Maybe even the jobs that are morally gray by a certain point of view. Because it's doing what has to be done, even at the expense of everything they love.
"There's a reason we call them unsung heroes of history, you know. Not everybody can be an Avenger. And that's a good thing, for them and for the rest of us."
Loki is silent for a moment, eyes downcast.
"Sometimes the biggest act of heroism is the one people never know about. And that sounds an awful lot like what you did, for all of Time." Mobius' grip tightens briefly. "You did everything, knowing none of us had any idea the real price you paid, and knowing the chances were very high that the burden would be permanent. What is a hero, really, if not someone who makes the choice no one else can?"
"You've always had far too much faith in me."
"Maybe." Mobius looks pensive for a moment. "Or maybe, just maybe, you're so powerful as a god because I have too much faith. A healthy amount of it isn't a bad thing, you know."
"Just an incredibly foolish one."
"Well, I've been called a lot worse. And by a Loki, no less. Just last week, actually. I'm about 65% sure that kid's in the middle of a highly detailed revenge plan."
Loki's expression flickers briefly with amusement and no real alarm, which is reassuring. But he sobers again just as quickly. "You've paid a high price for that belief, Mobius. A sacrifice upon an altar of which I was never really worthy."
"I don't think that's something you get to decide. For me, or for anyone else." Mobius squeezes those cold fingers once more before standing and stretching for a moment, face turned toward the warmth of the sun. "Everything that's worth anything has a price tag, Loki. That's how we let other people know it's valuable to us."
The waves are growing a little choppier, the salt and brine in the air a little sharper – both, heralds of the oncoming storm. Mobius loves evening summer storms here, typically fast-moving but relatively harmless if you're under shelter (outside of hurricanes, obviously). Equal parts wild and refreshing, leaving the beach littered with strange treasures and the air heavy with moisture when the day begins anew.
A low rumble of thunder drifts from the cloud cover, creeping slowly from the horizon line.
"Is that storm far off?"
"A ways, yeah," he replies, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of the ocean. "Looks like we still have a couple of hours before it hits. But I'm gonna head inside, I think. Had some ideas while I was out there today, I want to get them written down before they disappear on me."
"Is it anything I might be able to assist with?"
"Not right now, no – I just want to get my thoughts straight. But I'll definitely be picking your brain about the science part of it. I keep forgetting you've got all of O.B.'s knowledge, and then some."
"But not his humanity," Loki replies, with a small smile. "Oh, did I tell you that I started telling him about the time loops?"
"Oh, yeah?"
"About sixty years in, I just started most loops by telling him what was happening first thing, because otherwise I would have continued to waste time explaining how I already knew what he'd taught in a previous loop."
"Makes sense."
"And even though it never worked, he tried idea after idea for how we could send the knowledge of one loop forward to the next, for all of you. It never did work, but he kept trying. All the way until the end."
"I'm glad you had someone who was actually of use to you all those years, at least," Mobius says quietly.
"I know that look." Loki's face is a study in exasperated affection. "If you are under the impression you were not of such use? You are, as usual, drastically underestimating yourself. Yet another bad habit, but one you cannot blame on me."
Mobius snorts, but the tension in his features has lessened steadily. "You do see the irony in that statement, right? Since you were just telling me you're not as powerful as I know you are."
"If someone underestimates me, they do so at their own peril."
"Well, I might surprise you there, too."
"You did the day we met, certainly." Loki shrugs, looking thoughtful. "And many times since. Including in those time loops."
"I want you to tell me more about them, if you can. I'd rather hear about it from you than read it adapted in O.B.'s novel." The quip sounds lighthearted, but there is an earnest undercurrent in the words. "It's the only part of your life I don't know anything about. And I feel like a lot happened in there that I'd like to know."
"That is only fair, given the visibility you've afforded me. And I will. Tell you," Loki adds, voice almost inaudible above the gusting wind. "Perhaps not today. But I will, Mobius."
"You okay?"
"Actually…yes, I believe I am. Listening to the ocean is not an entirely terrible idea, despite my initial skepticism."
"High praise indeed," Mobius chuckles. "I'll leave you to it, then."
--SOME TIME LATER--
A booming peal of thunder that's loud enough to make the windows vibrate is what wakes him up this time. The whole house seems to shake a little, as if shivering in the face of the wind, before the drama is done and only the rhythmic pounding of an evening downpour can be heard.
Mobius blinks slowly, brain reluctant to come back online under the onslaught of feeling at peace and perfectly comfortable, for the first time in a very long time. It's probably not great that waking up on the couch instead of his bed is more habit than choice, after all this time. Something he needs to work on. But normally, it's pretty uneventful; this time, however, it isn't.
Despite the lashing rain against the windows, the room is cozy and warm. A small fire burns in the fireplace, lending just the right amount of heat and ambiance to the polished wood and vintage furnishings. A cozy afghan in a laughable shade of TVA orange covers his legs, and there's a mellow, spiced scent to the air that is reminiscent of something, something long forgotten in another life – comforting, yet unfamiliar. Subtly sweet, with a hint of cinnamon and something earthier.
Soft instrumental music plays from the open laptop on the coffee table, which last he remembers had been on his lap being typed on furiously, in lieu of any paper files being confiscated before he was forcibly pushed out of the TVA. Must have fallen asleep mid-note-writing.
He discovers upon sitting up and rubbing his eyes, a small potted tree in what had previously been an empty corner of the living room. Pristinely decorated with perfectly placed baubles and twinkling lights. Not an evergreen, rather one of the more tropical options native to the climate; but all the more atmospheric, for all that.
The tree appears real enough, but the decor has a suspiciously illusive quality to it, a little haze at the edges of each ornament that indicates impermanence. It's no less beautiful, for being an illusion; and if nothing else, acts almost as an artist's signature.
The artist in question, he finds a few minutes later on the back deck, leaning idly with his back against the wall of the house, one arm folded across his chest and the other propped upon it, hand under his chin. Just watching the rain, and apparently lost in thought.
"Hey," Mobius says softly, almost not wanting to break whatever spell is at work here. "You've been busy, huh."
A dismissive gesture, before Loki accepts the mug being held out for him. "Think nothing of it. It was ten minutes' research and the work of moments."
"Well, it's nice. Very festive." Mobius sniffs the steam which curls upward from his own mug. "I dunno what this is, but it smells good. Smells like a holiday."
"It is a favored drink called mulled wine, apparently, a relatively easy concoction to create with just a few ingredients. I am myself unfamiliar with it, though in concept and general flavor profile it is highly reminiscent of an Asgardian mead, had on special occasions only."
Lightning forks its way through the sky. Almost immediately following, a booming peal of thunder rattles the window in its pane behind them. Somewhere in the near distance, a dog starts barking frantically at the racket.
Loki's eyes dart toward the skies, and then he closes them with a faint sigh.
"You're in charge now, you know," Mobius ventures quietly, after letting the thunder rumble on its way. "There are no rules, at least not ones that you can't break or change. If you wanted to go see a version of them, in this branch or any other, there's nothing stopping you anymore."
Loki makes a vague sound of surprised inquiry, still watching the horizon line.
"Thunder and lightning mean something different to you than the rest of us, I forget that sometimes."
"I suppose."
"And I dunno much about earth holidays, but I'm guessing they're pretty similar to Asgardian ones, in that they're supposed to be spent with family, friends. Loved ones. It's not strange that your family's on your mind."
"My family is long dead, or at least I am so to them, Mobius. Both delineated by blood, and by adoption."
"Not exactly. At least in this timeline, they aren't."
Loki stops, and turns toward him. "What?"
"This timeline, this particular branch. Asgard still exists at this point, and you and Thor are both alive and well."
"How? You told me yourself the day we met, that my destiny was to do nothing but cause pain and suffering, to the end of elevating those destined to be this world's heroes."
"Yeah, I said a lot of things that day that were pretty cruel."
"Not cruel," Loki replies, readily enough. "But harsh, of necessity. And accurate. I hold no resentment over them. Particularly since I called you a clown, and sincerely threatened to kill you more than once in that period."
A ghost of a smile at the remembrance. "That you did. And back then, what I said was true, as far as I knew. But you freed the timelines, Loki. And in this one, things happened a little differently."
Loki exhales raggedly. "What was the nexus event?"
"In 2012. Just after you'd been apprehended the first time in Germany."
"Thor arrived to liberate me from the Avengers' custody."
"Exactly. And then in the fight that followed, he asked you to reconsider what you were doing, and somehow – I dunno how – got through to you. You surrendered, right there and then. Never opened a wormhole over New York."
"That is hard to believe." Loki shudders slightly. "Particularly because the…consequences, of my failure would have been grave."
"Well, it happened in this branch."
Mobius takes a cautious sip of the drink, and then blows across the top of the mug again before continuing, with more care this time.
"SHIELD was able to prove you'd been at least psychologically tortured for an extended period of time, and was successful in providing sanctuary for you. At your brother's request, Bruce Banner and Tony Stark proved conclusively that you were also being heavily influenced by the Mind Stone.
"You ended up making reparations to those affected, and were instrumental in working out peaceful diplomatic relations between Asgard and Midgard in the process. Thor ended up handing you the throne of Asgard when your father died peacefully, as he wanted to remain on Earth with Dr. Jane Foster."
"That is not actually surprising. He was quite gone for her, almost from the very beginning."
"But he got what he wanted in the end, just like you did; at least until Thanos finally acquired the full gauntlet of infinity stones. And all because you set the timelines free. You made that deviation possible as a reality, instead of it being erased before it could even have a chance. You did that."
Loki sets the drink down untouched, and shakes his head. "It sounds rather unbelievable, Mobius. And it is only one branch, among thousands. Insignificant."
"Not in my view. It's clear proof that there was always good in you, Loki." Mobius smiles across the top of the cup. "Didn't you ever wonder why I picked this particular branch to settle down in? I wanted the reminder of what we were really fighting for – the right to change our own stories. Control our own destinies."
"I did wonder how your neighbors seemed blissfully unaware of my fraught history. Even for a secluded resort town, that seemed unusual."
"Well, since you called off the attack in New York and SHIELD was quick to put a lid on anything referencing the Tesseract, there wasn't any media circus in 2012. Did you never look in on what could have been, while you were there guarding the Tree?"
"No." Loki looks out at the horizon. "Perhaps for the same reason you did not care to look, back before all this began."
"Not being able to handle something good."
"Precisely. I have no doubt there are timelines in which I am, actually, purely evil. Those would be easier to watch, somehow." Loki sighs. "I envied Sylvie for the longest time, you know?"
"Yeah, I do." Loki side-eyes him, and Mobius shrugs. "I envied her too, Loki. She killed hundreds of hunters and minutemen I'd worked with, some of them for decades. Then freed the timeline and walked away, without even checking on the consequences until we tracked her down."
"Her story devolved long before mine did, I grant her that. Her grievances were not imagined."
"That's true. But that's the difference between you, Loki. You both did what you did, because of your past. But she took the easy way out, and you took the hard one. I'm not saying either of you's any more moral or right than the other – but I know which one I'm more proud of."
"Fixing what's broken is hard," Loki says, almost to himself.
"It is."
"Which makes you stronger than both of us, Mobius. Fixing the TVA instead of burning it to the ground? And in the manner you've set in motion? It is incredible."
"Fixing's a little generous of a term. And most of what I've done, I was late to the game in doing. I was kind of lost, for a while there. I guess in helping you find your glorious purpose, to borrow a phrase…I think I lost my own afterward, just a little. Took some time to figure out where to go next."
"And here we are again, coming full circle," Loki murmurs.
"How do you mean?"
Loki glances upward as another flash of lightning streaks through the sky. "I find myself somewhat lost, even now. Power without purpose is mere chaos, Mobius. What function do I have, if not that of protecting the timelines?"
"Do you want my opinion as a TVA agent, or as the local Loki expert."
A brief laugh. "Both, I suppose."
"Well. I think most of the TVA would say your purpose hasn't changed at all, technically."
"Meaning I protect the timelines, but in a different manner than that to which I've been accustomed."
"Basically. It's all of our purposes, really. And there are a lot of ways you can do that without magically shutting yourself into a Tree at the End of Time. Even outside of your magic, you're super smart, Loki, and that was before you gained all this new knowledge and experience. You'd make a hell of an agent, if that's how you want to go about it. If anything, you're wildly overqualified."
Loki nods, still watching the rain and somewhat pensive. "And if I do not want that?" he finally asks, turning to look at Mobius. "What does the expert on all Lokis' lives say to that?"
"I say you've done enough," Mobius says, deadly serious. "You've given enough, Loki. So now? You should do what makes you happy, not what makes you useful."
"I…Mobius, I don't –"
"I didn't spend five years working to get to you, because we needed you at the TVA. I did it because you didn't deserve for that to be the end of your story." Mobius shrugs, and then amends, "I mean, I really did it because it kinda broke my heart to think about you being all alone for centuries, but it's not like I could just put 'He's the only friend I've got and I miss him' in my reports, you know."
A brittle, almost fragile sound that might be a laugh, well-hidden in the next clap of thunder. Loki finally shakes his head. "I did not yet tell you the entire truth of what happened when the Loom first melted down, did I."
"No." It'd been pretty obvious that there was more to the story than the brief recap Mobius had been given; but there was also something intricately painful in the retelling, that had stayed his hand from asking many questions. "The first time, where we all ended up on a branched timeline?"
"The very same. I had convinced all of you to follow me, so that we could perform a temporal aural scan to help me return to the point in time from whence you had all been flung. All of you, except Sylvie."
"And she had no interest in coming back with you, or in saving the TVA, I'm guessing not until her own branch began to disappear?" Mobius' lips quirk upward at one corner, when Loki stares at him in surprise. "She's as predictable as any Loki, when it comes to the fundamentals. And I can't exactly blame her for not wanting to rebuild the institution that murdered her childhood timeline."
"I suppose. Your understanding is quite gracious, however."
"It's the least I can do, at this point. But yeah, it isn't surprising she'd've told you to let it all burn."
"She asked me what I really wanted, as an outcome."
"Which was?"
"I told her that I wished to save the TVA, that I wanted to save everything and that saving the TVA was the only way to accomplish that."
"Was that true?"
"Only partially. She kept probing, until I admitted the thing I truly wanted was to not be alone, not after finally finding somewhere, some one, possibly multiple someones, to belong with." A snort of pure derision. "She said I was selfish, and she was right, Mobius. I don't know how to be alone. And…I am so weary of it, now."
"Anyone would be, after all that time," Mobius says gently. "Coming on top of those time loops, on top of the Citadel and the Void and New York and everything else? You've been through hell and out the other side, more than once. It'd be more surprising if you weren't a little lost, now that you have the chance to think about it all."
"I suppose."
"So…" Mobius adds after a moment, "if you need someone to give you permission to be selfish? To bow out, because you've done enough? You've got it, Loki. You've earned it."
"Your 'Clean Slate Protocol'?"
"You've been catching up quickly. Yeah, something like that."
"You don't think that would be running away, just a bit?"
"Maybe. But if that's what you want? We'll make it happen."
"I don't. At least, not right now." Loki makes a frustrated gesture in the air with one hand. "Would that I could be happy on a branch, working a menial job and simply living a calm, uneventful life."
"Like Sylvie."
"Like her, yes." Loki shakes his head. "But I don't think I could."
"What if you did it part-time?"
Loki inclines an eyebrow quizzically.
"We're looking at some other work models, for the new TVA. Possibly a seasonal rotation of personnel, or at least making the delineation between off-time and work more defined, meaning they can go back to a home on the timeline at the end of the day, just like anyone would if working a normal life on a branch. We're gonna need an on-call force if the war does come, and that's part of how we plan to do it."
"Make a home here, you mean. On a branch. And then work what is considered normal office hours at the TVA?"
"For analysts, yeah. Other jobs might be a little different, but there's no reason analysts have to live on-site anymore, really, other than managing the effects of time travel between zones."
Loki is silent for a moment. "And you?" he finally asks. "Is it a model you're considering?"
"Considering, yeah. Definitely not decided." Mobius glances up as lightning streaks across the sky again. "I'm not sure if I can let go that much, not yet at least. But someday, maybe. I kinda like it here. Took a while for the place to not feel like a weird hotel or something, but it feels like a home now."
"It does," Loki says quietly. "I am more at peace here, have been from the moment I awakened, than I ever was in a more palatial setting. Though I have my doubts that it is really the environment which is responsible."
"Can't hurt anything, though. We've tried to make the living quarters a little less industrial in the new TVA, but it's still a far cry from being able to leave the TVA and its uniform behind at the end of the day."
"And you created my own on-site quarters almost two years ago. In the hope that someday they would be used."
"Well, yeah." Mobius finishes the contents of his drink and sets the mug down beside the still-steaming one on the table. "I knew we were gonna find you, I just didn't know how long it would take. But failure wasn't an option."
"Your devotion is…"
"Little bit embarrassing? Pathetic?" is the wry response.
"Humbling," Loki says quietly. "No one has ever believed in me, no one has ever seen me, quite like you, Mobius. And even after all this time, I am unsure of what to do with that." A slight smile. "I told you on that branched timeline that you saved my life when I arrived in the TVA. I am only now realizing how much of an understatement that really is."
"I think we saved each other," Mobius replies, a little thickly.
Loki turns to look at him, backlit momentarily by another flash of lightning. "Then I believe what I want, would be to continue doing that. I don't want a throne, Mobius, and I most certainly don't want to be put on a pedestal, for anyone – but especially for you."
"You're talking about a power imbalance."
"Yes, exactly. The TVA must have a balance of power in all things, in order to be successful in its mission of protecting the timelines. A merging of order and chaos. Co-existence of authority and compassion, deity and humanity." Loki shrugs. "You knew every detail of my various lives before we met, and I now know every detail of yours. At least until the storm breaks, so to speak, I would prefer to continue on a similar equal footing."
"Not very royal of you, mingling with us commonfolk," Mobius says, with the smallest of smiles. "But I like the idea."
"Indeed." A slight wrinkle of the nose. "I suppose the mundanity will take some getting used to."
Mobius puts a hand on his shoulder to guide them back inside, as the rain has started to lash more horizontally than vertically, a chilly spray of salt-laden droplets.
"For the record, however, I refuse to wear that appalling excuse for a uniform. There are other fabrics in the universes than a cheap polyester blend which flatters no one."
"Well, I'm told the guy in charge tends to play favorites. You can probably wear anything you want."
"I do not wish any special treatment, Mobius."
"Oh, not you. Sylvie's my favorite, remember."