-TWO HOURS LATER-
The headache which had been building from the second Mobius got up this morning ratchets from a mild enforced social activity with a former coworker 3 straight to a wishing for a piano to fall on me 15 when they step back into the TVA to find a busy work force literally jackhammering into the flooring of the as-yet unfinished communications portal, despite that it's technically evening in linear time. Part of the benefit in having more than enough free agents to form a work force, they can swap out around the clock pretty much indefinitely, all other factors being equal. And normally, that's a great thing.
Tonight, however, it's like a brick to the skull, and the harsh lighting around the workroom makes the jarring cacophony ten times worse than it should be. He's on edge even before the Time Door even has time to close behind them.
His expression must indicate as much, because Loki gives him a gentle push in the direction of the arched entryway and goes to intercept Ouroboros without another word, heading the latter off in the act of beelining across the room toward them with clipboard in hand.
Mobius feels bad for just a second, but only for a second. He's really not got a lot of patience left at this point in what has been a very unpleasant day.
He's still plodding through the dimly lit cross-corridor which leads to the living quarters, when there's a sudden charged tingle in the air that sets the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Then without warning, Loki time-slips back into existence less than two feet in front of him. He scrambles back a step, heart pounding, because it still just freaks him out, even years after seeing it for the first time, and despite knowing it's controlled now.
"Don't do that!"
"Apologies." But Loki's voice is faint, and his face dangerously pale. He stumbles briefly against the wall, putting a hand to his eyes.
Mobius' annoyance vanishes under the swift onset of alarm. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, fine." A few rapid blinks, and an unsteady exhale. "I'm fine. That is just…far more difficult than I anticipated, likely due to the temporal variance and magic-dampening threshold within these walls. I had not actually tested the combination to this extent, until now."
"Maybe you shouldn't time-slip unless you have to from now on, then. Just use a Tempad like us poor little mortals do."
"Point well taken," is the rueful response, though some color is returning to Loki's face even as he speaks. "But in this instance, it was time productively spent. Your construction should proceed tomorrow as scheduled."
Right. Loki was going to time-slip back to what had been this morning within the Void TVA walls, to work with O.B. on magical warding in the weapons testing wing, and then back to linear time once they returned from Broxton. Judging by the dark shadows under his eyes, however, the time and effort of quite literally being in two places at once has taken more of a toll than expected.
But the effect seems to be fading quick enough. Loki finally pushes off the wall, steady on his feet, and shakes his head as if to clear it, waving off Mobius' final concerned question. "Really, I'm fine. I believe O.B. is sending you a list of questions and an outline of when the warding and a test run will be completed," he then adds, as they continue down the corridor.
"Thank you." He can basically feel Loki's not-subtle side-eye during the next few seconds, and sighs. "What."
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I'm just glad today's almost over with." Mobius shrugs. "I might actually head home for a few hours, instead of sleeping here tonight. Try to unplug a little, which I won't do if I stay on-site."
"That is an excellent idea."
"You're welcome to come along, if you want."
Loki smiles briefly. "A kind offer, but I believe I've made your life difficult enough in the last few days. Besides, O.B. asked me to look at intensifying the security of the subterranean panic room, as well as the weapons testing wing. We also need to write up the proposal containing today's events for the council to peruse before the next meeting."
"I'm really supposed to do that last one."
"If you wish. But I was planning on it, given the situation."
Mobisu frowns, an unpleasant feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. "You think I can't be impartial in a writeup?"
"Not at all," Loki answers, without hesitation. "But I do think you've borne more than your share of the emotional weight, with the confrontation today. And there is little value to any of us in increasing your stress levels at the moment."
Mobius sighs, and fumbles in his pocket briefly for his key card. "It's that obvious, huh."
"Not particularly; but to me, yes. And it does seem to be beyond the point where a slice of awful pie might suffice to rectify the situation." Mobius snorts, amused despite himself. "Besides. I do not require the same rest period as most of your task force, and might as well make use of that. Go home, Mobius. Everything will still be here in the morning."
He's too tired to argue any further, so he nods. "Yeah, all right. But if there's an emergency, call me."
"If there is an emergency, we will handle it, or it will still be an emergency in the morning," Loki counters, unlocking his own quarters with a wave. "But you have my word, if something requires your presence, we will summon you."
That'll have to be good enough.
-FOUR HOURS LATER-
It's not good enough.
Not for the first time, but for the first time in a very long time, Mobius finally dreams, here on this quiet timeline branch he's come to call a home, of sorts, over the last several years. Said dreaming is a pretty rare thing, given how long it usually takes for him to re-assimilate to the passage of time; but unfortunately, it would appear a combination of guilt and lingering unease from his conversation with Ravonna earlier in the day do not lend themselves to a peaceful night.
It's been many months, maybe longer, since his midnight hours were haunted so vividly by the hundreds, even thousands of timeline occupants he's pruned over the centuries. Sylvie wasn't completely wrong, all those years ago; he has always tried to avoid thinking about the Past, because it's the only way he doesn't lose his mind over What Might Have Been.
The only way he learned to accept the TVA and its processes so completely through the years, was to purposefully forget those faces, those timelines, those variants he couldn't have saved even if he wanted to, and worse – those he didn't want to, those he just didn't care that much about.
Nameless, faceless, painless pruning – but none of the three were actually true, rather just another lie he told himself, another coping mechanism to add to the agitated bundle of them he probably is.
The truth might have set them all free, but free will doesn't mean free of consequences. This is just one of the burdens he will have to shoulder, for the rest of Time. Somehow.
After this particular rude awakening, he tosses and turns for an hour or two, and then gets up and makes a cup of instant cocoa. Tries to nap on the couch after finishing it, then goes for a walk along the beach. Then tries again to sleep in his own bed, with no more success than the first two times.
It's seemingly a lost cause.
So, sometime around 2:30 in the morning, he gives up the fruitless endeavor and stumbles back into his quarters at the TVA. A pile of folders, messages, and blueprint edits await him, and he still hasn't gotten through the initial writeup of the Phase II plans, the biggest component of which is the variant reformation program and the construction of a facility within the Void to house said variants during said reformation. If the council does decide Ravonna's worthy of redemption, he's going to need those plans sooner rather than later.
Sometime around 3:15, he gives up that fruitless endeavor, as he can't seem to focus on anything for more than a few seconds, other than things he really doesn't want to be thinking about in the first place.
Maybe a walk here will clear his head, where it did not on a Branch.
He wanders through Research and Advancements first, but it's deserted with O.B. on his mandatory rest period, lights off and no machinery to be heard – almost eerily peaceful, and not somewhere he wants to linger with the ghosts of Memory.
The Observatory is equally quiet, in night-time monitoring mode and with only a few agents typing away at their respective desks. There's a cleaning crew in the Atrium, and another in the South Atrium, the latter trying to figure out the best way to clean the massive observation windows. They are clearly alarmed at his unexpected presence, particularly as he's not in uniform, just a comfortable sweater and sweatpants.
He smiles, waves at them and keeps walking without a word, and hears a flurry of relieved whispers as he heads down the cross-corridor toward the elevator.
They've opted for several sets of stairs in this hub, because they're more reliable in a place like this where power fluctuations aren't uncommon. But there are still two public elevators, for those few who can't or don't want to take the steps, and one semi-private elevator that's designed solely to access the subterranean levels, and is protected by both key card and handprint recognition.
The last person to access it, according to the logs, was Loki, about two hours ago. He hasn't come back up since, unless he resorted to teleporting within the buildings, which there's no reason for. The reason for the lengthy stay below ground level is easily apparent, as a viridescent glow emanates from the small, self-contained room at the end of the dark hall two floors below the surface.
Careful to remain quiet, Mobius makes his way down the hall and then ducks inside, settling on one of the small, practical sofas to watch the show. This place is designed for utility, not comfort; but it'll do for now, and it already feels more like home than his own bed, which is something he doesn't want to examine too closely right now. It's a little chillier in here than he'd have thought, but not yet uncomfortable.
Loki sits on the floor in the center of the room, having assumed a meditative pose, wearing the comfortable, practical costume (minus the headgear) he'd donned as the guardian of Time so many years ago. His eyes are closed, hands loosely splayed palms-upward on his knees, each hazed in a gentle green glow. The light outlines his pale features in ethereal reflection, brow slightly furrowed as he concentrates on his work.
A double row of emerald sigils is slowly etching its way across the base-boards of the room, with another row snaking more rapidly just below the intersection of the low ceiling. Glowing runes are slowly coming into being; over the door, at the precise center of the ceiling, and at each corner junction of the floor.
Mobius vaguely recognizes the rune over the door, something definitely Asgardian in nature; possibly copied from a Norn stone? He'd have to look it up in the Archives. The rest seem to be an indecipherable sort of magical alphabet soup, to him. But even he can feel the power behind them, thrumming under the surface and imbuing the room with a weighty sense of purpose, of warning.
Where such a display of unearthly power might be terrifying to someone else, it only feels comforting to him. Protective, familiar, and almost peaceful - like the sound of ocean waves, or the folksy music he loves to listen to when the rare opportunity arises on a timeline branch.
Comfort is something he could use a bit of, tonight.
For a few minutes, he just watches in awed silence, fascinated by the play of light and shadow across Loki's features.
Then, the atmosphere changes ever so slightly, and the frosty bite in the air melts away. Eyes still closed, Loki's lips turn up in a gentle smile of acknowledgment.
"I thought you were attempting to 'unplug' for a few hours," he observes, the tone low and calming.
Mobius sighs, and finally slouches on the way-too-firm sofa, head tipped back against the cushions. Weariness, both physical and mental, tugs at him like a riptide, but it's still not enough to ease the tension that's been coiled in a tight knot ever since this afternoon.
"Yeah, the body's willing, but the spirit, not so much."
The sigils at the corners and over the door flare up a sudden bright green and then vanish from view, still at work but unseen by human eye. Loki opens his eyes, and after glancing around with a keen scrutiny, finally nods, as if to himself.
"One more layer should be sufficient," he adds, flicking a glance at Mobius. "This will be the safest place on or out of the timeline, once finished. In an emergency, anyone trapped within the TVA should be able to retreat here and withstand an invasion force or temporal incursion, for at least 90 days. And the wards are designed so that only my magic will work within; all others will be blocked, unless I adjust them accordingly."
Mobius nods, and then hastily covers a long yawn, cringing slightly under the amused gaze. "Sorry, sorry. I really appreciate you doing this. I like having backup plans. Helps me sleep at night."
"Except for tonight."
"Except that, yeah."
Loki finally brings both hands around in a smooth circular motion, whereupon the rest of the sigils also fade into the stonework. The glow at his fingertips follows suit a moment later, and the room returns to the warm artificial lighting which had been eclipsed earlier by the magical display.
"I appreciate the opportunity to be of use." He tilts his head and regards Mobius for a long moment. "This affair with Renslayer is really bothering you, isn't it."
"I mean, yeah, a little," Mobius replies tiredly. "But it's not even really about that, I don't think."
"No?" Loki slides gracefully to his feet, and moves across the room to appropriate the other end of the uncomfortable couch. His nose wrinkles briefly, and with a wave, the cushions under both of them suddenly become much more comfortable. "What is it about, then?"
Chin resting in one hand, Mobius toys briefly with a loose thread on the arm of the sofa with the other. Finally he sighs, and looks over at Loki with a troubled expression.
"Do you think we all should go through the judiciary process, like we're going to have her do?"
Loki blinks a few times, the only indication he's been taken by surprise, and finally frowns. "What is this really about, Mobius."
"I just…if you look at it objectively? None of us are blameless here, in the TVA. We've all done awful things under the guise of sacred timeline preservation."
Loki nods, not in agreement, but to indicate he follows the train of thought. "…And?"
"I guess I just wonder if we're being a little hypocritical, asking her to stand trial when we've all done things that keep us up at night, and we're all just going about our business without actually having to answer for them." The words are barely audible, and hold a lingering tinge of regret. "Does that make any sense?"
"From a point of view, yes, of course." Loki sits back, brow furrowing for a moment in consideration. "Though I believe leadership can and should be held accountable for the perceived shortcomings of those under them. Be that a monarchy or a mere business endeavor, it seems only fair that the higher the rank, the higher the risk of being called to answer for the acts of the whole. With power comes responsibility."
"I guess."
"You do not sound convinced."
"I'm not," Mobius admits. "And I just can't help but wonder if maybe we should've done that with everyone, back when everything fell apart that first time. We all just kind of scrambled to put the pieces together as best we could, and none of us really knew what we were doing."
Loki shifts slightly so that his back is partially against the armrest, full attention on the opposite end of the couch. "While I can understand that point of view, such a process would hardly have been practical, if nothing else. There is no point in holding trial when judge, jury, witness, and accused are all relatively equal victims of the same flawed system."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"And at the least, all of you have, with remarkable unity, done your utmost to change that system, to protect those victims – internally and externally – in the years since. Renslayer eliminated an entire faction of them within the TVA's very walls. She could simply have pruned Dox and her associates, well knowing that fate is not guaranteed death, provided one can survive the Void. But she chose instead a very cruel method of elimination, and made no move to rejoin the TVA until I sought her out.
"You are not the same, Mobius. You both made a choice when given free will, and she chose violence and passivity, where you chose mercy and action."
"I know. But that's not really crimes against the timeline, Loki, and that's what we suggested she stand trial for. Crimes against the institution are a little different, aren't they?"
"That is a fair point." Loki purses his lips in thought. "But would not the judiciary process proceed in the same manner, regardless?"
"Yeah, that's definitely the least bad option. I guess I'm just wondering if we shouldn't have some kind of internal investigation, now that we're fairly established in the New system. We can't hold people to a standard we don't meet, ourselves."
Loki cocks his head slightly. "Why are you unnecessarily intent upon falling on a sword here, Mobius?"
"I dunno. I guess I just can't stop thinking about all the things that'd come up in my own trial, if it ever came to that. We've all got a whole lotta blood on our hands."
"Blaming any of the worker bees, so to speak, for the actions of the hive queen, would be ludicrous. You were all simply parts in the grand machine. And besides," Loki adds, with a flicker of pained grimace. "I know a bit about having blood on one's hands, even if there were some outside influence involved."
"It's not the same, though. It's been a hard pill to swallow, knowing we've committed the temporal equivalent of genocide, on a cosmic scale."
"I am not innocent of that crime either, as you well know," Loki replies quietly. "And I am sorry. But we all have to learn to live with that knowledge. That guilt. Perhaps memory and time are punishment enough."
"We're all just a mess, aren't we." Mobius' chuckle is a little wet, and he drags a hand wearily over his face. "This was all so much easier before, well..."
"Before I came along?" Loki raises an eyebrow, and smiles, unoffended. "I am a harbinger of chaos, yes. But you have only yourself to blame, Mobius."
"For not burning it all down and running when I had the chance?" he asks wryly.
"That, and for offering me the opportunity to run, while I had the chance."
Mobius frowns, lifting his head from the back of the couch. "You mean when we split up, at Roxxcart?"
"No, not at all." Loki sighs, and his lighthearted demeanor vanishes like a fading spell. "I have not yet spoken over-much about the time loops, have I."
"Not really." Mobius side-eyes him curiously. "I'm guessing that's relevant here, huh."
"I am not willingly withholding information from you, I just…for one, I don't remember many of them, in all honesty. The repetition did nothing but muddle the details, and the intervening years since have not helped. There are only a few loops I remember vividly. One, in particular, I have not told you about."
"I'm listening."
"Would you prefer to see, instead?"
Mobius eyes his outstretched hand with well-founded wariness, but after a moment takes it, and they fall into the memory.
This room in a dead-end corridor which he's stumbled into is strangely tiny, with an almost ludicrously small window to the outside world – more of a porthole than a window, for some reason. Dusty furniture, a slight smell of mildew, and several stacks of what look like old filing cabinets would indicate potentially a disused storage room.
But this conclusion is second to the knowledge that he did not leave the Loom observation room unnoticed; and now his impending breakdown will have a witness he cannot stand to disappoint again. Mobius is too observant, too smart for his own good; and they have had this exact conversation in a dozen different ways, at this point.
"You don't understand," Loki finally interrupts the frustrated tirade, which is quite uncivilized; but he cannot have this discussion for a tenth, hundredth, thousandth time, not now. Not today.
"Help me understand, then." Mobius is moving across the room like he's trying to nab a feral cat, slowly and cautiously and with one eye on the only potential exit. "I'm not a god, but I'm pretty darn smart when it comes to the TVA. Maybe I can help."
"You can't. I can't. It - there is nothing else to do, Mobius."
His voice cracks most embarrassingly on the last syllable, and he turns away, fighting for control, for anything to hold off the crushing weight of despair that leaves no room for anything so nebulous as hope. What good is this immense newfound power, if he cannot manage to succeed in saving anyone?
No god should ever weep before man, but there is no hiding it, not here. Not from this man.
A firm hand at his elbow tugs him back around, facing the light spilling in from the doorway. Mobius looks at him for a long, long second, and then his confused expression softens into a sort of sad resignation. One hand comes up to rest almost unconsciously at Loki's chest, perhaps in an effort to ground him, or maybe both of them. The other lands lightly on his shoulder, steady and reassuring.
"We've made a lot of mistakes, here in the TVA," Mobius says, after another moment of studying Loki's face. "But one thing we're good at, is record-keeping. Knowledge. Observation."
"I don't take your point."
"I could list the symptoms of being caught in a cyclical causality in my sleep, Loki," is the gentle response. "So how long have you actually been doing this?"
"I…" He crumbles, finally, because he has not the fortitude to come up with a convincing lie, this time. And he, the god of such lies. "I don't know," he finally manages, a mere breath of pain.
"Ballpark it for me. Days? Months?"
Something in his expression must give him away, because Mobius' eyes widen slightly. "Years?"
"Decades," he whispers.
In reality, it has been over a century now, but with no end in sight, there is little point in causing Mobius more distress over the prolonged failure.
"Decades?" Mobius repeats in horror, clearly distressed despite Loki's effort. "How have we not figured out how to break the loop yet? The longest causality we have on record in timeline history was just shy of eighteen months, and even then, the Time Stone was involved."
"Because in this case, I am the causality!" Oh, that's a razor edge of panic fighting to come through, that is horrifying. He does his best to wrest some kind of control back. "This isn't some kind of – of temporal accident, Mobius. It is fully intentional. I can control the time-slipping; I learned how. But there is no way to save the Loom. No way to save the TVA. We are doomed to fail, every. Single. Time."
"Maybe we –"
"Whatever you're going to suggest, I have tried it. Multiple times, at this point. I can't do it." The words are a dreaded death-knell, but at that moment they are, to the best of his knowledge, true. "I've tried. I have been trying. There is no scenario where the Loom is fixable. Where the timelines live. Where the TVA survives. Where all of you, survive." He exhales shakily. "It's over, Mobius. I can't do it anymore."
Mobius swallows hard, and the sickening flash of fear that flicks over his expression is heartbreaking. Staring certain doom in the face is not a burden a mortal should bear; and certainly not this one, the most undeserving of them all.
"We're already beginning to evacuate the main buildings," Mobius then suggests, obviously grasping for straws. "We could go full-scale, get everyone out before it happens. The TVA can be replaced someday, if the people are safe. Right?"
"Evacuation to the branches, sacred or otherwise, does no good," Loki says dully, because he had tried that, half a dozen times, at some point. "The temporal energy released by the Loom when it melts down is too great; it destroys the bounds of reality across the multiverse, and we lose everything in a matter of hours. We can run, but there is no scenario where we can hide. Not for long. The branches begin to die almost immediately."
"But not instantly." Mobius' hand on his shoulder tightens. "If you can control the time-slipping, you can get out. Take my Tempad, and go to the Void. Or the Citadel, maybe. They're isolated from the Timelines, or at least on a very slow variance rate, due to the event horizon. Magic might be the only chance we have, and you'd have some breathing room there, to figure out how to stop all this."
"You don't believe that possibility any more than I do." Loki shakes his head, reaching up briefly to put his own shaking hand over Mobius'. "You're giving me permission to run away, aren't you."
"You can survive the meltdown, or you wouldn't still be here," is the quiet reply. "It'd be the smart thing to do, if it really is inevitable. Cut your losses while you can, and let us buy you as much time as we can."
Loki exhales raggedly. "Come with me." It's a wild, ridiculous notion – but it's new, and maybe that means something? Not yet, not once in all these loops, has this exact scenario happened.
"You know I can't do that." A rueful smile, and Mobius reaches up to briefly push Loki's hair behind his ear. "Us humans are kind of stubborn in our need to die fighting. No matter how inevitable it is."
One icy tear briefly snakes free, and Loki shakes his head, dashing quickly at it with one unsteady hand. "I don't know how to stop it," he whispers. "I can't even remember what I've tried and what I have not, at this point. What facts are knowledge I've actually acquired, and what are wishful thinking, born of a mind delusional."
"How much time do we actually have?"
"I don't know. It is not always the same." Loki's voice is steadier now, but still painfully hoarse. "No more than four hours, likely much less. I don't – what am I supposed to do?"
"If you really have tried everything, I really do think you should leave, since it won't affect the outcome anyway." Mobius shrugs, and a half-smile tries its best to creep out from under the dread on his face. "Knowing you made it out okay…I could live with that. Well." A semi-embarrassed clearing of the throat. "Not live, I guess. But you know what I mean."
"I cannot keep watching you die," Loki whispers. "But I can't leave you here either. I –" he halts, posture stiffening as his eyes flick up and to the right, over Mobius' shoulder.
"What?" Mobius turns around, and immediately recoils. The furniture near the window is spiraling away into fragments, the window and scenery beyond already gone. "Oh god," he breathes, hand tightening in Loki's shirt for a second. It's one thing to know they're doomed, but another entirely to see it happening mere inches away.
Somewhere below their feet and in the distance, a shockwave of deadly energy is released, the portent rumble of impending doom beneath their feet shaking the very foundation of the room they're in. A formidable power surge rushes through; one of the fluorescent lights falls with a crash to shatter on the floor nearby. Corridors away, a siren begins to wail its final warning.
"Too late," Loki murmurs, eyes fastened on the terrifying disintegration. "It is always too late."
"Hey." Mobius tugs at his shirt, and Loki's haunted eyes drift back to his face. "Don't look at it. Look at me. Just look at me, okay?"
"Mobius…"
"Keep looking at me. And listen, Loki. If you're not gonna leave this sinking ship and save yourself, then you gotta figure this out." A brief shake for emphasis. "For all of us. You can do this. I know you can."
"I have no faith left for the task."
"That's okay," Mobius replies, with a brief smile. "I've got enough for both of us. So you remember that, next time around. Promise me you will. Promise me, you won't give up just yet. Just one more loop, at least. Give it one more, at least."
A quick, almost frantic nod. Loki's eyes flick mournfully back to the outer wall, which is now spaghettifying at a rapid rate. "I promise," he barely manages, an epitaph of despair amid the spreading void. "I won't leave you here. Whatever it takes."
Mobius takes a step back, breaking physical contact. "I know," he says gently. "And you don't need to watch this again, so go. I'll see you in a minute."
By the time fragmented reality reaches the doorway, both of them are long gone.
For a second, it's like his brain isn't in the right body, and then everything shuffles and fades back into its proper position. Enchantment is no joke, particularly when his memory's already been messed with so many times without his knowledge.
"Are you all right?" Loki's hand releases his, and immediately goes to his shoulder, as he scrunches up his face trying to clear his head.
"Yeah, I think so. I'm good." He leans back a little heavily, grateful for the improved cushions. "And if that's what most of those loops were like…I'm kinda glad I don't remember. I hate that you do, but I'm not sure I could stand having all that rattling around up there every day. It's awful."
Loki nods, unoffended at the candor. "As I said, only some of them do I actually remember with clarity. That was one of them."
"Still don't see how that ties into whatever we were talking about, though."
"One of the things which sets you apart, is that you decided not to burn the TVA down for its crimes, but to rebuild what was broken, it from the inside."
"I'm not sure that was actually a conscious choice," Mobius points out. "Everything happened so fast, and we were just kind of swept up along with it."
"But Renslayer's departure and the de-throning of the Timekeepers left a massive power vacuum. I returned to the TVA after the Citadel, expecting it to be in chaos. But it was not, and that is due to you, and the other agents like Judge Willis who stepped up to fill the void. You refused to leave the TVA to its own devices when it needed you most."
"Well, someone had to try to hold the place together."
"But that someone did not have to be you," Loki counters. "Renslayer certainly didn't see a need to stick around and try to resolve internal affairs. She left while she could. You did not."
"I mean, where would I have gone, anyway?" Mobius shakes his head. "Free will is scary, when you get hit with it for the first time."
"And acting despite that fear is what constitutes courage. In that time loop, you were terrified," Loki says bluntly, though the tone is gentle. "That much was patently clear. But even then, your only thought was to somehow reassure me."
Mobius rubs the back of his neck. "You're projecting an awful lot of importance on what I'd call just being a decent person."
"Projection or otherwise, I believe you are being too hard on yourself for your role in the TVA's original intent, based on motive, if nothing else. If you wish to pursue the path of internal investigation into the leadership of this place, I will follow your lead; but I believe a jury of your peers would feel the same as I."
"I guess I'm just still scared."
"Of what?"
"That you're wrong. There's nothing special about playing the cards you've been dealt, good or bad."
"You are not cut of the same cloth as the former Judge Renslayer, Mobius. Authority without compassion is just distilled ruthlessness. And while some measure of that might be needed, it is but one small step away from cruelty. You have not an ounce of cruelty in your character."
"I'm not so sure."
"Then perhaps until you are, you should extend to yourself the same compassion you have to those around you."
Mobius is silent for a moment, eyes absently on his restless hands, fidgeting on his knees. Then, he snorts, almost to himself.
"Just thinking," he answers, in response to Loki's inquiring noise. "Wondering if you picked up a psychology degree during those centuries spent studying temporal physics."
"Norns forbid." Loki shudders elaborately. "It is personal observation, nothing more esoteric than that."
"Mm. Sounds like you spent some of those centuries studying me."
Loki's cheeks flush slightly. "I may have taken a well-deserved breather. Here and there."
"Uh-huh."
"Briefly."
"Yup."
"Only on rare occasion."
"Totally reasonable, yeah."
Loki sweeps to his feet, and adjusts his cape with regal drama before heading for the door. "I do not have to sit here and endure such indurate disrespect."
Mobius casually fires a throw pillow at the back of his head, and laughs when Loki snaps a hand up and freezes it in mid-air, without even turning around.
Show-off.
Well, maybe the third time is the charm. The couch is pretty comfortable now, the chaos in his mind has quieted, and there's still a few hours before daylight (if it can be called that, in the Void). The room is quiet, but not disturbingly so; and when he dims the lights, only the occasional sigil along the floor periodically glows and fades.
He sleeps, and does not dream.