Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Loki! Hey.”

Calling out to him from back along the corridor, Loki turned to find Mobius jogging after him, apparently having just come out from an impromptu meeting with B-15.

“Hi. What was that all about?” Loki asked as he caught up, a pointed nod towards B’s office. He narrowed his eyes in feigned suspicion, “Are you in trouble again?”

“What d’you mean again?” Mobius replied, unfazed, “No, it was just a boring, touch-base kinda thing, just clarifying some details about yesterday.”

“Details?” Loki scoffed, as they continued strolling towards the cafeteria, “The only pertinent detail is how effortless it was for me to neutralise her.”

“Yes, Your Magnificence, you’re exceptionally clever and amazing,” Mobius drawled. “But unfortunately B needed a little more than ‘Loki kicked her ass’.”

“Mm. Maybe I should go back and give her my version, so she’s really got the full picture,” Loki suggested. 

“She needed more info, Loki, not a flowery theatrical monologue.”

Loki looked at him with a wounded expression.

“You love my monologues.”

“I tolerate them. Which is much, much more than can be said for B-15. Why do you think she asked for me alone?” 

“Well obviously, she was sparing me the supreme discomfort I’d have suffered as a result of the unrelenting onslaught of heavy praise from the two of you,” Loki immediately answered, which earned him a snort of laughter.

Then Mobius stopped short.

It took Loki a couple more steps to realise, but then he halted too, turning back around to him with a confused frown. 

“Mobius? You okay?”

Mobius raised his eyes to him, but it seemed as though he was having trouble focussing. 

“Feel weird,” he mumbled, and Loki took a step closer, noting that his breath was becoming quite rapid and shallow. 

“What do you mean? What kind of weird?”

Mobius had gone as white as a sheet, and Loki looked around them, surreptitiously locating the nearest waste paper basket, just in case. 

“I- uh…” He was plainly trying his best to answer, but could barely even seem to breathe. As Loki reached out to grab his shoulder in support, Mobius crumpled to the floor in a dead faint. 

“Mobius!”

Loki was kneeling next to him a split second after it happened, and a couple of passers-by immediately came over to offer their assistance. But before anyone could do anything, Mobius was already blinking his eyes open, dazed. 

“Mobius,” Loki breathed as he grasped his arm, adrenaline coursing through him, “Are you alright?”

Mobius lay there for a few moments, still and wide-eyed, as though in disbelief that such a thing had even happened. 

“Yeah. Yeah…” he panted, frowning in confusion. “What the hell was that?”

“You passed out,” Loki told him, relief and anxiety playing tug-of-war in his chest. 

“Ugh. My arms are tingling,” Mobius mumbled absently. The two other analysts had taken a step back, and Loki gave them a little wave, letting them know he had it. 

“Can you stand?” he asked gently as they were left alone once more.

“Not sure. I think maybe?”

“Take your time,” Loki advised as he began helping him sit up.

With support, Mobius was soon on his feet again, and Loki carefully led him to a seat at someone’s vacated desk, before crouching down beside him.

“Has… that ever happened before?” he asked quietly. 

“I’ve passed out before, sure. But that time there was an obvious cause.”

Loki’s concern must have been written all over his face, because Mobius attempted to reassure him with a smile.

“S’fine, Loki. Probably just low blood sugar or something,” he said, affecting dismissiveness that was not wholly convincing.

Loki exhaled in a huff, reeling a little in the aftermath of his panic. But to his credit, he did manage to smile back.

“Bit of an over-the-top way to inform me you’re hungry,” he joked, his voice shaking a little. “And you had the gall to call me dramatic.”

Mobius grinned, then rubbed a hand over his face. 

“You still up to eating something?” Loki prodded hopefully.

“Yeah, I think so. I’m almost back to normal again, just a little dizzy.”

Loki made him wait a couple more minutes (“No need to go all mother-hen on me Loki, I’m fine…”), then gave him a hand up before they set off once more, taking a more leisurely pace.

Evening meal passed without incident, and although Loki was watching Mobius like a hawk the entire time, he was cautiously optimistic that everything truly was fine with him. 

It wasn’t until they were in the elevator heading up to the living quarters when it happened again. This time Loki had no warning… one moment Mobius was beside him, the two of them leaning casually against the handrail, the next he was sprawled on the floor, narrowly missing smacking his head on the adjacent wall. 

Letting fly an Asgardian curse, Loki threw himself down by his side, unsure of what to do. He laid a hand on Mobius’ cheek, stroking lightly, silently willing him to wake up again. 

Which he did, only seconds later… but possibly a few more than it had taken the first time. Mobius’ eyes were frightened, and there was a light sheen of perspiration appearing on his paling skin. 

Naturally, the elevator chose that moment to arrive at their floor, so Loki shifted around to block the opened door, holding the elevator until Mobius was able to move.

“Loki?” he all but whispered, “Did I… ?”

”Yeah,” Loki answered him softly, with a calmness he was certainly not feeling.

“Oh. Crap.”

“Mmhm.”

They remained in silence for a short while as Mobius recovered. The colour was coming back to his face, but he still seemed shaky and weak, so Loki insisted he stay put for a few more minutes.

“What’s happening to me?” Mobius eventually muttered.

“I don’t know,” he replied soberly, “I think maybe we need to go to the infirmary, Mobius. It- it could be something serious, or at the very least something that requires treatment.”

Although initially looking rather agitated at the suggestion, Loki watched Mobius’ expression morph into resigned acceptance, realising that Loki was correct.

The very moment they entered the infirmary they managed to cause a scene. Mobius passed out yet again in a reception area that was unprecedentedly full of hunters, all wearing medical-grade face masks. As Loki later discovered, the group had potentially been exposed to some horrific alien virus several day-cycles ago, and after being sufficiently quarantined, were awaiting their final blood results that would give them the all clear.

Loki was very glad that he wasn't aware of this when several of them gathered closely around Mobius, even putting their hands on him in order to roll him into the recovery position. At the time, he was simply grateful for their help… especially given it took close to two minutes for Mobius to rouse.

These episodes were getting longer. 

Almost beside himself in worry and fear, Loki valiantly strived to keep his cool in front of all of these unfamiliar people.

When Mobius finally came to, he didn’t even bother saying anything. He merely stared up at Loki fearfully, his head shaking in bafflement.

A flurry of activity followed as Mobius was admitted to the inpatient ward; their only patient, as was often the case when either he or Loki ended up having to stay within this cursed facility. He was promptly gowned up, much to his vocal annoyance, and the medical staff wasted no time at all beginning myriad tests on him; bloodwork, various scans, EEG, ECG, MRI… and a couple more fear-inducing acronyms that meant very little to Loki.

Fortunately, and frankly surprisingly, Mobius remained conscious throughout. In fact, it wasn’t until he was settled back on the ward after the first few procedures that he passed out again, and this time it went on to last a good five minutes or so. Before even one of those minutes had passed, Loki had dashed off down the corridor frantically seeking help, completely forgetting in his blind panic the emergency button right next to Mobius’ bed. He of course beat the first doctor he’d found back to the room, and as he took up Mobius’ hand, his own trembled in apprehension.

Standing in observation, tension increasing by the second, Loki watched the doctor check over Mobius’ vitals, then examine him for the usual things such as pupillary response, reflexes and suchlike.

“Don’t panic,” she said quietly after glancing at Loki, reading him like a book. “Everything here looks fairly normal. However, now that we’ve completed our first sweep of tests, I would like to set him up with a Holter monitor for the time being, so that if he has another fainting spell, we’ll have a better scope of cardiac data to analyse as well.”

Loki nodded on autopilot, barely having taken in anything she’d said. As she departed to go and fetch the device to which she’d referred, he hooked a nearby chair with his foot and dragged it close to the bed, flopping into it with a weary sigh, and not releasing Mobius’ hand for a single moment.

“What do you mean, ‘completely healthy?’” Loki ground out at the exasperated doctor. “It is transparently obvious that this cannot possibly be the case.”

“Oh yeah, thanks for that,” Mobius griped from next to him, though his tone made it clear he was half-kidding. Loki shot a glare at him, unamused.

“It’s true,” the doctor replied, “We can’t find anything medically wrong with him. There’s nothing in any of his results to suggest that he is anything but perfectly fine.”

“Except for the fact my heart keeps stopping just before I pass out,” Mobius supplied almost cheerfully.

That was the third time Loki had heard a variation of that statement, and it still sat with him like a chunk of ice in his stomach.

“Yes. Well. There’s no reason for that, though,” she reiterated, and her furrowed brow betrayed her vexation.

“So what next?” Loki asked, and he hated how helpless he sounded.

She sighed.

“I don’t know, honestly. He must stay here for observation and further monitoring, and in bed as much as possible – it’s far too dangerous for him to be on his feet. Sounds like there was already a near miss on a possible head injury earlier, and with the increase in frequency of these bizarre episodes, inviting further risk is the last thing we need. Other than that…” she trailed off, lifting her shoulder in a feeble shrug.

“Thanks, doc,” Mobius firmly cut Loki off as he’d opened his mouth to express his dissatisfaction yet again.

She gave them a brisk nod, and beat a hasty retreat back towards her office.

Loki sat heavily, burying his face in his hands with a sigh as he leaned forward on his elbows.

“Loki.”

He peeked at Mobius between his fingers, and found blue eyes gazing at him earnestly.

“Hey. It’s okay, I’m okay,” he promised. 

“No you’re not,” Loki bit out. “And it drives me crazy that I can’t do anything about it.”

“I don’t expect you to, Loki. No one does,” Mobius said reasonably. “You’re not a doctor, what in the worlds are you supposed to do?”

Pushing himself back to his feet, Loki began pacing agitatedly.

“I may not have medical qualifications, but I did spend centuries studying various branches of science. You’d think I’d be smart enough to figure out something.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works,” Mobius said, trying and failing to hide his mild amusement.

“Ordinarily I’d take you straight to a timeline and heal you,” Loki continued, “But there’s nothing my magic can do, when there’s nothing to heal.”

He paced in silence after that, thinking hard, and as a result took far too long to realise that Mobius had been unusually quiet for a while. He spun around to regard him, only to find he’d lost consciousness yet again.

Tears of frustration welled in his eyes as he reached the bed in two quick steps, grasping Mobius’ clammy hand in his once more. 

Brains for days, not to mention supreme magical abilities, and yet he couldn’t even help-

Wait. Hold on.

Magical abilities…

Loki thought back to their mission two days ago, where they’d apprehended that witch variant who had been so easily overpowered by Loki’s phenomenal command of his particular brand of magic… unfamiliar as it was to her.

But in hindsight, there had been a moment — nothing more than a fleeting instant — where he was sure he’d heard a vague grunt from Mobius, as though he’d been hit; weathered an impact of some kind. Yet Mobius hadn’t said anything, and he’d been fine afterwards… not to mention, Loki had already cast a spell of protection over Mobius as soon as they’d arrived on the timeline, a usual precaution he took if they were dealing with a case involving magic.

But was it possible that it had failed, somehow?

Pushing his way forcefully into the cell, the requisite accompanying hunter trailing along behind him, Loki glared at their subject menacingly in a way he hoped would convey every drop of red-hot ire currently coursing through his blood.

She wore the regulation TVA jumpsuit, her long dark hair fanning wildly as she spun around to look at him.

”Oh, it’s you,” she smirked, “The magic man.”

Loki stalked closer, plunging his hands into his pockets to prevent himself from doing something that he could get in a lot of trouble for.

She didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by him, which only served to fuel his rage.

How dare she not be affected. If not by him, then at the very least by—

“What have you done to him?” Loki demanded sharply, his voice like cold steel.

She smiled indulgently, folding her arms with casual nonchalance, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Chapter Text

“I don’t suppose I can use the Gizmo on her,” Loki seethed at B-15 without preamble as he stalked into the chrono bay area from the elevator, having just finished his lengthy yet completely fruitless interrogation of the witch variant in her cell. 

B-15 spun around to regard him in horror, then looked even more disturbed when she saw what likely appeared as a grim seriousness in his expression.

“No,” she said vehemently, “Not only is it unethical, and- and disgusting, but also, they were all decommissioned after… after Dox.”

Loki pressed his lips together at the macabre reminder; not having seen the aftermath of that particular incident, and very much not needing to; cemented by the look that had crossed B’s face as she spoke.

He decided a subject change was in order.

“Any news about Mobius?”

“No. Nothing has changed, at least as of about ten minutes ago when I last asked.”

Loki nodded mutely, staring down at the floor with hands in his pockets. 

“You got nothing out of her then?” B inquired.

“Oh she definitely cursed him,” Loki bit out, “Had no qualms with informing me repeatedly, in the form of bizarre taunts and riddles. I think she’s completely mad, honestly.”

“We suspect so, yes. But we still need her for information… well, potential information, depending on whether she responds any more cooperatively for me.”

“Can I go back in with you, then?” Loki asked with what he intended as eagerness, yet still held an edge of malevolence. 

B-15 immediately shook her head. 

“I’m sorry Loki, no. She’s made this personal for you, you can’t be in there.”

Loki opened his mouth to deliver a scathing response, but B folded her arms and cocked her head at him, the steely look in her eyes daring him to argue.

He supposed he had just asked her if he could compress the variant inside of a mercilessly contracting time cube. And he was legitimately filled with incandescent rage at the witch for harming Mobius. With X-05, it had been a simple matter of giving him a bit of a scare, but given the opportunity in this instance, Loki really wasn’t sure how far he’d allow himself to go.

It was probably wise to keep him away from her, especially since the TVA genuinely needed her in one piece.

For now.

But he couldn’t get that calculating, insufferable smug face of hers out of his mind…

“Aw honey, you’ve got it bad haven’t you?” 

She’d stooped to teasing him at the end there, and it was all he could do to not lash out at her impudence.

“That’s sweet. It almost makes me feel bad for cursing him. Almost.”

Clenching his jaw at the recollection of the way she’d giggled rather maniacally after that, Loki had to turn away from B-15 and take a deep breath.

Yeah, okay. It was definitely personal.

“I’m gonna go sit with Mobius for a bit,” Loki said, still not looking at her. “Have a talk to the doctors about this new development. It’s more in the realm of my expertise than theirs, after all.”

“Of course,” B replied gently. “And if you need to take him to a timeline so you can… perform anything of a mystical nature, we can arrange that right away.”

Loki turned towards her, giving a half-hearted nod before trudging off to the infirmary.

The second that he passed through the doors to reception, Loki knew something was wrong.

He broke into a run, heading down the corridor to Mobius’ room, only to find a medic and the doctor standing either side of the bed, Mobius unconscious in between them.

The doctor spun around as Loki entered, her face a little pale, eyes wide.

“What is it?” Loki demanded, crossing the room in three brisk strides.

“The episodes of unconsciousness are continuing to lengthen,” she said somewhat tremulously, “Concurrent with the time that his heart is stopping.”

Loki was aghast.

“What do you mean? His heart is stopping for longer too?”

“Infinitesimally longer… we can only see it by analysing the data from the Holter monitor. But yes, the arrests are increasing in duration, as well.”

He swallowed, his mind going blank in distress. The urge to go and sit by Mobius, take his hand, stare at his lax face whilst tensely awaiting his next return to consciousness was overwhelming.

But grating, high-pitched laughter resounded in his head, and he remembered that he had relevant news.

“Mobius was cursed,” he spouted, and the doctor and medic both snapped eyes on him, looking flummoxed.

Sighing in frustration, Loki continued, “We picked up a magically gifted variant the other day, whom I just went to interview in custody. She’s admitted to doing something to Mobius, but there’s no way of telling what. At least not here, within the TVA.”

“What are you saying?” the doctor asked, her voice incredulous.

“That we need to take him out onto a timeline, somewhere, so that I can at least attempt to work out what this witch may have done to him.”

In truth, Loki felt oddly in over his head with regard to this situation, which was ridiculous given his objectively vast and superior magical powers. It would do no good to let on any presumptuous fears of incompetence to the medical professionals though, so he kept his chin raised confidently and his tone sure.

“Has this been approved?” 

“B-15 just gave informal approval, so yes, it will be.” 

“Alright,” the doctor sighed, exchanging looks with the medic and shooting a concerned glance at Mobius, “Get the paperwork sorted while I do everything necessary at my end. There’s a TVA emergency shelter we can take him to that has basic medical facilities… I’ll need to take some equipment with us, so I’ll start getting organised.”

Loki gave her a nod, but then his eyes shot to Mobius as he grunted softly, his eyelids fluttering erratically.

At his side in an instant, Loki grasped his hand and touched his cheek tenderly.

“Mobius?” His voice shook badly, but he didn’t care in the slightest.

A couple of slow, sleepy blinks and Mobius finally forced his eyes open, looking up at him blearily.

“Hey Loki,” he murmured, barely able to articulate in his apparent fogginess. “Whassa matter?”

All Loki could do was shake his head, feeling himself tearing up at how much worse Mobius had gotten in the short time he’d been absent. 

What was happening to him? Would they even be able to stop it?

Homicidal urges were generally a thing of the far distant past for Loki, and had only ever really been born out of desperation. 

He was feeling decidedly desperate.

B-15 was smart, keeping him away from the variant.

“That magical…” Hag? Harpy? Bilgesnipe-faced bitch? “… variant we apprehended the other day… she- she threw a curse at you, Mobius. It’s likely what keeps causing your heart to stop, even despite the protection spell I cast upon you. And in case you hadn’t noticed, your condition is worsening.”

Mobius closed his eyes again, nodding weakly.

“Yeah,” he managed, his voice muted, “Yeah, I don’t feel so good anymore, so I assumed so.”

He rolled his head to look at Loki, lids open halfway. 

“So what d’we do?” he murmured, “If- if anything?”

The last part was added with such uncertainty that it tore a hole in Loki’s chest.

“We do whatever it takes,” he said with an assurance he definitely didn’t feel, squeezing Mobius’ hand. “I refuse to let her win. First trying to drain me of my seiðr, of all ridiculous notions, then in a pathetic tantrum, slinging a curse at my- at… at you.” Heavy disdain dripped from his words, his ire building.

Mobius squeezed his hand back.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Loki,” he mumbled knowingly. “I’m not exactly a fan of hers either, but you know the team needs whatever info she has.”

Loki’s mouth was set grimly as he admitted, “B’s already banned me from access.”

“Loki. What did you do?”

“Nothing! Well. I- I may have suggested to B that, had I access to a Gizmo, I might very well have given into the urge to-”

“Yeah, alright,” Mobius held up his other hand to stop Loki from going any further. “I get the…” 

He stopped speaking, eyes becoming unfocused for a few moments before abruptly passing out yet again.

Loki stood helpless, so close to letting his terror swamp him.

But instead he took that fear and used it to spur himself into action, tearing himself away from Mobius’ side as he remained under the watchful eye of the medic, dashing off to get this gods-damned timeline approval sorted.

The TVA facility was situated on an unremarkable planet on the outskirts of a quiet settlement, and was unnerving in its air of abandonment and visceral emptiness; a large, echoing two-storey building with very little furnishings, and half of its power supply deactivated. 

The small medical treatment area was dusty but functional, however, and the former mattered little, given it was highly unlikely Mobius would require any sort of surgical procedures. 

Once he had been brought through the time door, and all of the accompanying equipment set out and calibrated to the doctor’s satisfaction, Loki stepped up, wasting no time in his attempt to work out what variety of curse Mobius was affected by.

He worked for hours, although to anyone who wasn’t him, it would have appeared as though he was simply fast asleep while sitting up; perched on a chair at Mobius’ bedside, both of his hands resting lightly on Mobius’ exposed arm. 

If one were to watch closely, they might have seen the occasional flicker of emerald light at the two points of contact, as Loki cast yet another investigatory scan of the magical energies at work in Mobius’ body. 

He found his own protection spell, almost immediately, of course. Once cast, the spell hung around for at least a couple of days, or sometimes more, gradually fading over time until the effects completely vanished. As it naturally served to help Mobius and not harm him, there was only benefit to be had for leaving it instated. If Loki were to remove the spell himself, it could at the very least cause some form of pain or discomfort for Mobius, so there was no point.

The witch’s magic was more elusive; harder to detect. He already knew it was a lot weaker than his, which is how he was able to overpower her so easily when they captured her. It would also explain why she was so intent upon draining power from other magic users… but clearly she’d never encountered a demi-god before. 

Nonetheless, it made finding the curse a problem, initially, eclipsed as it was by Loki’s pre-existing protective magic. 

It wasn’t a matter of simply locating the trace of her unique mystical energy, however. Once he did finally encounter it, he then had to attempt to analyse it; to uncover what she’d been unwilling to divulge. And this was the part he was struggling with the most. 

What have you done to him? 

He repeated this over and over, like a mantra; sometimes a question filled with genuine, objective curiosity, though usually it was an impassioned demand, the same as he’d verbally flung at her in the TVA cell. 

As the hours wore on, though, it became more a vulnerable, rhetorical plea, the frequency and desperation increasing along with his feelings of utter powerlessness.

While Loki remained deep in his meditative state, straining to get to the bottom of this, he was still vaguely aware of the attending medical staff dealing with Mobius on and off throughout… and from what little awareness he was able to spare, the trend was leaning frighteningly closer to the ‘on’ than the ‘off’.

Eventually he became too depleted and needed a break, so reluctantly pulled himself out of the trance, opening his eyes to find Mobius again unconscious, and paled to a deathly white.

“No,” he whispered softly, dismayed at the rapid downturn.

“He’s passed out more often than not, now,” the nearby medic informed him. “Did you find anything?”

“Yes, but I still haven’t been able to ascertain the what,” he ground out in frustration. His fingers twitched on Mobius’ arm, as though grasping him harder would tell him more. 

“You might be too late,” the doctor said resignedly, stepping into the room from just outside the door, as she slipped a tempad into her pocket. “I hate to say it, but things have become decidedly grimmer over the hours you’ve been… occupied. Agent Mobius’ heart is becoming unsustainably stressed, and we’re concerned that it’s only a matter of time before he suffers true cardiac arrest – one not of magical origins.”

Loki felt ice-cold dread slip down his throat and pool inside unpleasantly. He looked at Mobius, the sensation intensifying, and felt tears of hopelessness and exhaustion welling in his eyes. Remaining by his side, lost in heartbroken reverie, he wondered whether it was worth delving back into his exploration, or whether there were any other avenues he could be considering.

It was only five minutes later that B-15 appeared through a time door, urgency dominating her bearing as she spotted Loki and strode towards him.

“It’s a death curse,” she blurted, “We finally got it out of her. It’s a death curse, intended to stop his heart instantly.”

“What? Then- then why didn’t it?” Loki demanded, feeling a lot of extremely unhelpful emotions at the revelation, and having to firmly push them all aside for now, to hopefully be dealt with later. “Why is it only temporarily stopping it? Are her powers really so meek?” he couldn’t help but scoff that last, his fear and anger apparently giving rise to pettiness.

“She said it met heavy resistance. That she applied the curse, but felt it being repelled from him. Said she used up every last bit of her magical strength to force it to ‘stick’ to him, so to speak, once she realised that she wouldn’t be able to fight you.”

His protection spell. It had worked, after all, which was a special kind of relief for Loki – so sure had he been that his spell had failed Mobius; that it hadn’t been sufficiently robust, or comprehensive.  

But clearly, as the short-term buffer had begun to fade, the more persistent death curse was able to start breaking through; acting like the magical equivalent of a slow-release medication. Stopping Mobius’ heart in minimal bursts, to begin with, then increasing in frequency and duration as more and more of his protective spell dissipated.

Loki did a quick calculation… and realised there would be very little protection left by now, even if the traces of his magical signature that he’d found earlier still remained strong.

Swearing under his breath in Asgardian, he turned to the doctor.

“My spell will fail soon,” he said, “Any minute, potentially. And then the curse will meet no resistance, and it will stop his heart, and kill him.”

Eyes wide, she nodded in understanding.

“So what do we do?”

Loki thought for a moment.

“Do you have the means, here in this room, to restart his heart?”

“Not really, no,” she answered. “We can bring everything here that we might need, but we’ll possibly require extra staff as well, for… for the possibility of extended CPR, and to administer epinephrine, that kind of thing.”

“That could take too long,” Loki told her, “Would it be easier back at the TVA?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He pressed his hands together, bringing his fingers to his lips in thought as he paced the small area next to Mobius’ bed. “We need to get the upper hand on this thing, take control before control slips away from us. If we can arrange to have Mobius go through a time door straight to the necessary equipment and personnel that you require to accomplish this, I can- I can remove my protective spell the very moment beforehand. His heart will stop, but… we’ll be ready.” 

He swallowed hard, feeling extremely nervous about his proposal, but managing to conceal it.

The doctor nodded slowly. 

“I mean. It’s risky,” she said, “So, so risky. But if we do nothing, he’s going to suffer the same fate anyway, if I’m understanding correctly.”

“That’s right.”

“Okay,” B-15 broke in, addressing the doctor, “Get onto your people. Get the emergency time door disembarkation zone set up with everything you need, as fast as you can.”

The doctor nodded again, drawing out her tempad, and hurriedly disappeared through a time door. 

On the bed, Mobius roused a little, but he remained essentially nonresponsive, and Loki could do no more than move to grip his hand tightly, every muscle tense with anxiety over what was about to happen… what he would have to do.

Tempads being what they were, the doctor was able to return to them almost instantaneously, leaving the time door open and ready for their crossing. She and the medic pushed Mobius’ gurney over so that the end of the bed was aligned with the ‘door, the intention to take as little time as possible to pass through. 

Then they both turned and looked at Loki expectantly.

Taking a stuttering breath, he stepped up to Mobius’ side again, reaching a trembling hand out and placing it over his heart.

Then he reached inside with his mystical senses, and against every instinct screaming at him, extracted the final traces of his protective seiðr.

The moment he drew his hand away and stepped back, the doctor, the medic and Mobius vanished through the time door. He moved to follow, but B-15 grabbed him, and taken by surprise, he didn’t even get the chance to wrestle free before she pulled him roughly through another time door, into a quiet, empty time theatre.

“What the Hel do you think you’re doing!” he spun around and bellowed at her angrily. “I have to be there, I have to- I have to…”

The fight left him abruptly as she put a placating hand on his shoulder, and he registered the gentle empathy in her unwavering gaze. Hesitating, he gasped a short breath… nearly choking on it before he gradually composed himself.

“You don’t want me to see,” he finally said, his voice catching.

“No,” she said softly.

“B, I have to get up there, I must… I can’t- there’s no way I can-” 

“I feel the same, Loki,” she broke in, “But trust me, we’d only get in their way. And even when they manage to save him,” and her word choice was not lost on him, “The images that would stay with us afterwards? I don’t think either of us particularly need that kind of trauma now, do we?”

Sighing heavily in unwilling acquiescence – lost, defeated, and so very, very tired – Loki dragged himself to sit on one of the horribly uncomfortable chairs next to the solitary table, flopping down and tipping his head back, eyes closing in both exhaustion and torment.

Silence prevailed in the cavernous room, even after B-15 came and sat down with him.

And they waited.

As it happened, the waiting was absolutely interminable; the infirmary not contacting them until Mobius was stable and had been taken back to the ward. As soon as they heard the news that he’d survived, B-15 had someone come and unlock the time theatre, and Loki tore away, making it to the medical wing in record time.

Mobius was there; still pale, still unresponsive. 

But most definitely, incredibly, astoundingly alive.

From that point, there was minimal… or perhaps laughable chance of anyone being able to dislodge Loki from the seat at Mobius’ bedside. He remained there for countless hours, awaiting the moment where those clear blue eyes would open once more. 

And what a moment it was, when it finally came.

“Mobius,” Loki’s voice was husky, his throat tight as he scooted closer and took up Mobius’ hand.

“Hey…” he whispered vaguely, looking about him with a confused frown. “What in the worlds is going on? I feel like… like…” he stopped and swallowed dryly, and Loki quickly fetched him a small cup of water, which he sipped at slowly as Loki replied.

“Like, maybe… a witch put a curse on you – one intended to make your heart stop and kill you instantly – but it was only partially successful due to the protection spell your godly friend had earlier cast, then the two spells warred with each other within you until one started overpowering the other, culminating in a dramatic rescue where I and the infirmary staff had to force your already impending death, so that you could be brought back to life once more?”

Predictably, this was met by stunned silence. 

But Mobius being Mobius seemed to take it all in his stride, blinking as he processed, then frowning for a short time in contemplation.

“Huh. Yeah, that actually tracks. This is how I think I’d feel, if all of that happened.”

He looked up at Loki.

“Which it did, I assume.”

But he must have seen something of Loki’s untamed emotional turmoil in his gaze, because he stilled, tilting his head at him inquisitively.

“Loki? Was it really that bad?” 

Loki rapidly choked up again.

“You have no idea,” he breathed, stepping closer and leaning down, pulling Mobius into a tight hug.

Mobius grunted a little at the unexpected gesture, but did his best to return the embrace, considering he was still covered in various tubes and wires. They stayed that way for a long, gratifying moment, and Loki began to relax enough to appreciate just how fortunate they’d been.

“So, the witch huh?” Mobius murmured into his ear after a while, and Loki drew away slowly, sitting down on the edge of the bed and taking up Mobius’ hands.

“Yeah,” Loki said, regret and shame colouring his tone, “Not so harmless after all, as it happens.”

“Good thing I didn’t let you go and brag to B-15 about how easily you took her down, then,” Mobius joked. “Could’ve been real embarrassing for you, huh?”

“It is anyway,” Loki admitted, his face warming. “There I was, arrogantly celebrating her incompetence, and meanwhile you were seconds away from being struck by the slowest heart attack ever known to medical science.”

“Hey, you weren’t to know, Loki.”

“And also, it was my spell that wasn’t good enough to deflect hers,” Loki grumbled, angry at himself. “I’m better than that, and you nearly died. You did die.”

He stopped then, biting his lips together in distress. 

“Loki,” Mobius said after a long moment, running his thumbs over the backs of his hands comfortingly, “From the little I could glean from your insane ramble earlier, it sounds to me like you actually saved my life… not once, but twice.”

He said nothing in response, loath to take any credit when he was feeling like this. 

“So, your spell didn’t work as well as you anticipated,” Mobius went on, “Not great, I get it. But it still worked enough.”

“Ugh. I suppose,” Loki sighed reluctantly.

“And I bet you’ve pissed her right off, too,” he added with a mischievous grin, “If she really was trying to kill me in revenge, and after all that, still never got to.”

At that, Loki lit up in an instant.

“Oh… Ohh, B has to let me back in there, I have to rub it in her face! Forget the Gizmo… or lack thereof. This’ll be real torture for her – that conceited, cruel, crafty, conniving little-”

“Hey, that’s the spirit,” Mobius said, smiling affectionately. “And Loki? I know this won’t help you feel better, but thank you, anyway.”

Loki gazed at him in profound appreciation, endlessly amazed at Mobius’ innate ability to understand him.

“The doctor says there may be a touch of lasting damage to your heart, from all the stress it was under the last few days,” Loki informed him gently. “Nothing too serious. But if that is the case – and at the risk of sounding nauseatingly sentimental – will you allow me to heal your heart?”

Mobius chucked irrepressibly, and reached up, pulling Loki in so their heads were touching. 

“You already do that on a daily basis, Loki,” he murmured, “In so many different ways. So, sure, what’s one more?”

Speechless, Loki closed his eyes at the ready influx of emotion. 

The witch may have tried to curse them, but in that moment, he felt decidedly blessed.