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Chapter Text

Mobius always was sure to read up on his cases before he started working with them. He took time, processing the information in front of him, understanding the motives and trying to piece together a story. 

Reading someone’s case notes was very one sided. Because there was no chance for more depth, no matter how detailed the notes were. He had found this was because the notes were not the person themselves. You learned a lot more sitting in front of the person than you ever did in notes.

But, Mobius was glad he had read Loki’s notes before he got introduced. It was… messy. It was more than messy, Mobius didn’t even know where to begin.

Loki Laufeyson, 27, genderfluid, bisexual. 

This was all basic information, it was good to know his gender and sexuality. Loki came from an old country family, the Laufeysons were Old Money rich before being adopted by Odin Allfather. 

Mobius knew of Odin Allfather. He knew of Thor Odinson, Frigga Allfather and Hela. He knew them all from the newspapers and the media. They were obsessed with Thor, the young man who was set to inherit his fathers wealth of stock investments when instead Thor joined the army and gained ranking there and a few medals. 

Loki had been adopted early in his life, the difference between Thor and Loki was striking. Thor was the golden hour of the morning when the sun just broke the horizon, and Loki was the night that the golden hour killed. Loki looked as though he had been birthed from the darkest shadows. The photo of the pair made Mobius chuckle; Loki in an all black suit and Thor in jeans and a shirt, looking fairly more casual.

Then, there was abuse. There had been firstly Odin, but Frigga seemed to soften the conflict. Then she died. Then Loki had no one to buffer, Thor was serving in the army, and Loki was running what was the business.

It hadn’t been too bad actually while Loki ran the business. He invested in a few local theatre companies, set up multiple charity funds for LGBTQ+ organizations. He made Asgard States become respectable. 

On his notes, it was written on the side column that Loki had self-destructive tendencies. This was clearly highlighted when the business was going so well that Loki stepped aside and it collapsed. Loki had stepped aside however to further his relationship with Thanos, from a local law firm.

The mess truly began with Thanos.

The emotional abuse, the mental torture, the physical absue, the personaility disorders. It was not an easy read. It all climaxed when Thor eventually found out, and attacked, lashing out and attempting to kill Thanos (Thanos died later that week by being hit by a car, was it related? Mobius didn’t know. Nor did he want to find out.)

Somewhere in the middle of this, Loki had dated someone written as the Grandmaster (in the side notes, there was a scribble reading ‘cult leader????’). Loki had never given the Grandmaster a name, had never even said he knew what it was. But Loki confirmed however, they had been happy as they could have been. Perhaps they were only happy because it was a game. 

The Grandmaster had acted as a temporary refuge from Thanos as the abuse peaked. Mobius let out a long sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose slowly to gather his thoughts.

There were clearly layers upon layers here. Walls and mazes to get through the heart of Loki and who he is. Or, was. Who he was before the abuse, the betrayal and the heart break.

Sometimes that was the hardest part of recovery, remembering who you were before it all ever happened. 

*

“So, what’s your game plan?” Mobius asked Ravonna as he sipped his whisky, setting it down on the desk and closing Loki’s case file once more.

“Loki is dangerous. He needs to be sectioned.”

“Sectioning someone with his history won’t achieve anything,” Mobius countered. “At most, he would be good in a residential home. But complete sectioning? To a victim of abuse? It’ll only make him feel trapped. He’ll close up like a clam.”

“Then why did you ask for my opinion if you were only going to disagree?”

“You’ve been off the floor for a while, Ravonna. You’re rusty, and that’s ok. That’s cool. Leave Loki to me.”

“Mobius, you’re not to get… involved this time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, he is your client. He is your case. At some point, the contract will finish and you’ll walk away. Remember what happened last time?”

Last time. How could Mobius forget the last time? He remembered hearing that the case had taken a relapse and ultimately overdosed. He remembered the funeral.

This would not be a repeat.

“I won’t let that happen again.”

“So what do you propose then? What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to do art.”

“ What ?”

“I’m going to bring him to art classes. You remember… damn, what’s their name? Sylvie! Yeah, remember her? I still do check in’s, and she was telling me she’s been attending these art classes for trauma relief. She swears by them, and you remember Sylvie. Nothing made her happy, or calm, or peaceful.”

“Sylvie’s abuse was different from Loki’s.”

“They’re the same person. Both let down by the authorities, both neglected as children, and both just trying to find a friend, and themselves too.”

Ravonna sighed, sitting back in her chair and rubbing her face.

“You’re doing the puppy eyes,” she muttered.

“Not intentionally.”

“You’re doing the puppy eyes of hope. Ok, fine. Whatever. If this falls apart, it’s on your neck, not mine.”

“And I take full account for that.”

“What about the brother?”

“Not my department. That’s over to the Starks department, it’ll probably be Sam Wilson who takes him on.”

“If anything happens, Mobius, you need to be prepared. You need to be ready. Loki may be damaged but he’s smart. He’s charming. Most of the assessors left the room crying.”

“You assessed him,” Mobius breathed, looking at Ravonna and sighing loudly. “ You assessed him!”

“No one else could. He’s a manipulator-”

“I would like to thank you for remembering the TVA’s motto, Ravonna. To not hold people’s past against them. Which I think you’re doing here. Now, if you excuse me, I need to go and meet Loki and try and help him get back on the road to recovery instead of shooting him down before he’s even got a chance to try. Enough people have done that in his life, and I won’t be one.”

“You haven’t even met him.”

“Never judge a book by their cover,” Mobius snapped, closing the file.

“Mobius,” Ravonna’s voice cut through the air, firm and unkind. “If this case ends the way your last one did, you will be ruined.”

“Then, I look forward to watching this place burn,” he answered. 

Mobius grabbed his file, making sure to push his chair back with more force and turning on his heels and leaving.

He hadn’t felt the pressure before. Now he could feel it breathing down his neck like a demon in the sky. 

*

Loki did not like people.

He did not like them individually, or collectively. 

He did not like their looks, their whispers, their touches. And so, he commanded the attention of the entire room. So he knew their attention was on him, so he could pinpoint every noise and every laugh and know it was not at him, but someone else.

Loki had no difficulties in doing this. He simply stepped into a room and people usually feared him instantly. And he basked in that.

It was better to be feared than loved. Fear was a tool you could use for your gain, love was a weakness. 

Love was a cardboard box left in a forgotten alleyway and fear was the rain that destroyed it and left it melted into the puddles. 

Loki stepped into the room and instantly frowned. There were whale noises in the background, and someone wrapped in silks and crystals swanning between people, her arms drifting and never remaining by her sides. She looked ridiculous.

“Welcome, welcome!” the woman greeted, coming to a stop in front of Loki. 

When he gave her no response, she tilted her head.

“Do you not speak English, poppet? French? German?”

Loki raised an eyebrow at her and she laughed awkwardly. 

“Alright then, great. I need your name though, dear. To check you on my register,” she said, tapping her clipboard. Loki rolled his eyes, taking the board and ticking off his name for her and finding a seat beside a man who had a sad looking moustache, he looked as though he were some sort of failed cowboy, belonging to a past time and not this century. 

This cowboy man sat there, extremely relaxed looking with a blonde girl to his left.

Occasionally, he’d lull his head to the side and remark something to the girl who just would snort. Loki spotted the scars all over her arms like claw marks. 

And, regretfully, she caught him looking.

“What are you looking at?” she asked.

“Nothing of importance,” Loki answered.

“Oh, you arse,” the blonde snapped, bouncing off her stool and cracking her knuckles but the cowboy man put his arm out.

“Sylvie,” the man said calmly. “Don’t. You’ll get kicked out if you do.”

“I’ll find you afterwards,” the girl, Sylvie, snapped, returning to her stool.

Part of Loki ached for it. He ached to get slapped, to get kicked and be thrown to the floor. That was where his worth was, at the bottom of someone’s shoe for them to step on every day.

“Don’t let her get to you,” the cowboy remarked. “She’s all bark.”

“She certainly looks like she’d bite too,” Loki answered, glancing at him. He had kind eyes, the sorts of eyes Frigga had. 

“Well, yeah she would, but not in here.”

“Brother!” 

Loki’s head whipped round to the door where Thor was standing, giving a thumbs up through the glass. 

“What?” Loki hissed.

“I’m a few doors down, isn’t that great!” Thor stage whispered. Intentional or not, Loki doubted his brother knew how to whisper. 

Loki glanced at the room, getting off his stool and walking over to the door.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m being supportive. Do you feel I’m being supportive?”

“I feel you’re being distracting. This is a tranquil space, don’t you hear the whales?”

“Is that what it is? I thought it was someone being murdered.”

Loki rolled his eyes, looking at his shoes and then back to Thor, but looking over his shoulder instead of directly in his eyes. 

“Go to your support group. I am fine here.”

“I’m only a few doors away.”

“I am fine, Thor.” Loki repeated, finally looking at his brother's eye. To the common eye, there was nothing strange about Thor’s face beside the scars surrounding his eye. To Loki, he knew that eye was replaced with a glass one. The fake eye seemed perfectly real; it was unnerving. 

“Ok, well. Proud of you,” Thor smiled, slapping Loki’s shoulder then jogging down the hallway to his support group. Loki dipped at the slap, only his brother didn’t realise how strong he was, only his brother didn’t realise he was not human but he was a rock. 

Loki sighed, rolling his shoulder and returning into the venue. Now all eyes were on him, because everyone was painting the fruit bowl before them. 

It was so painfully boring.

Loki took his seat, crossing his legs and watching all the other idiots paint the fruit. Some had furrowed brow, taking it seriously. Some had a soft smile, enjoying themselves.

Didn’t they know they were stupid? Didn’t they know happiness was a lie?

“Hey, you're not painting?” the cowboy asked.

“Why would I bother with such petty nonsense?”

“I think it’s kinda fun,” he smiled, painting a yellow stripe which Loki could only assume was for the banana. “Nobody tells you how to paint it, you just do what you see.”

“What if, perchance, what I see is different from everyone else?”

“No one I think will judge you for that. I’m actually colourblind,” the man smiled. “This here?” he pointed to the yellow stripe. “To me, I’ve no clue what colour I lifted. But, I know it’s a banana.”

Loki hummed, watching as the man did some scribbles on the page.

“I’m Mobius, by the way.”

“Mobius,” Loki echoed in thought, tasting the name between his lips in thought.

“Yep. Mobius M. Mobius,” he chuckled. “That’s me.”

“Your parents must have hated you.”

“We could talk all night about people whose parents hated them, but it won’t change anything will it?” Mobius asked. “Mine sure did hate me. And I sure hated them back. But that was what, 30 years ago? 32? I stopped keeping track,” Mobius smiled. “I knew being bitter wouldn’t change them, and wouldn’t change me. It just made me angrier and lonelier.”

Loki was gripping the paint brush so tightly it snapped in half. He looked down and sighed, seeing the jagged ends of the brush. 

Do it. Push it into your heart, Thanos’s voice crept through his head. 

“Hey,” Mobius’s voice cut through Thanos’s, an open palm. “You doing good there?”

Loki threw the paintbrush at the floor and stormed out. 

*

Thor found him outside on the steps, smoking a cigarette with his legs outstretched. His chin angled slightly towards the sun, not basking in it but more just enjoying it’s warmth.

“I heard we had a slight problem earlier.”

“I had a problem. You probably made friendship bracelets.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We made wooden figures, so there,” Thor grinned, pulling out the wolf he had carved and passing it to Loki.

Loki took it silently, still smoking as he ran his fingers along the curves. He could tell almost straight away that Thor had carved it by hand. Something his brother was exceptional at was carving and woodwork. 

“Hela,” Loki whispered.

“Made me think of her too,” Thor smiled, taking the wolf back and putting it in his pocket. “We can try again tomorrow, Loki.”

“The classes only run once a week.”

“Well, we could try something else tomorrow. We could try something active? I could bring you to the yard, you remember Val? She still has horses.” 

“Pegasus?”

“Pegasus was old, Loki,” Thor softened. “He was very old. But there’s still Hal, Beu, and Tiptoe.”

“I liked Tiptoe,” Loki murmured.

Thor’s face lit up, he moved closer. “How about it then, tomorrow I’ll drive us over to Val’s yard. We can take out the horses.”

Loki finished his cigarette slowly, he was never one to rush a smoke. He blew out his last breath of nicotine before flicking the stub away.

“Did you make any friends?” Loki asked Thor, standing up and dusting his suit off.

“Yes, I did. Did you?”

“No,” he answered. Yet his mind wandered back to Mobius, to his kind eyes and patient tone.

“It gets easier,” Thor smiled, standing up as well.

“The easiest lies to tell are the ones we believe,” Loki answered. Thor opened his mouth to counter that, when the door swung open and there he was. Mobius.

“Loki, before you go,” the man looked a little breathless, like he had sprinted from the room to the front door. “Here, I wanted to give you my number.”

“Why on earth would I want your number?”

“Friendship, Loki, friendship,” Thor muttered in Norweigan. Loki shot him a dirty look over his shoulder, looking at the man before him. Mobius offered Loki a slightly lopsided smile.

“If you ever need to talk,” he said. “Or chat, or want to grab a coffee, it’s just letting you know I’m here.”

“My brother would love that!” Thor said, pushing Loki forward to take the scrap bit of paper that had Mobius’s number scrawled over it.

“Your handwriting is terrible.”

“Sorry, I was in a rush,” Mobius chuckled. “But, think about it, yeah? Let me know. We can if you want to. No pressure.”

Loki shrugged, folding the paper into his pocket and stepping away.

“Goodbye, Loki,” Mobius called. Loki paused for a moment, glancing at him.

“Yes, goodbye Mobius,” he responded.

*

“So… Mobius,” Thor said as casually as he could. He scooped a spoonful of the pasta sauce into a bowl for Loki and passed it over to him.

Loki’s stomach kicked in protest, twisting at the thought of having to consume what was before him. Thor wasn’t a bad cook, in fact he was rather good at it.

But Thanos had put things in Loki’s food that Loki didn’t even want to think about.

Thor wasn’t Thanos. Thor wasn’t Thanos. Thor wasn’t going to kill him.

Meal times always made Loki laugh. While Loki took a bowl barely full, Thor scooped at least three spoons into his plate and would probably add more. 

“Mobius,” Loki repeated.

“Mobius seems like he’s cool,” Thor smiled. Small talk was also something Thor never had excelled in. It was why Loki loved him as he did.

“Does he?”

“I like his moustache.”

“You’re not growing a moustache,” Loki said firmly.

“I would look great in one.”

“Not happening, Thor.”

“You’re truly no fun, brother.”

Loki grinned at him, taking a forkful of the pasta and slowly beginning to eat it. His stomach was burning, it felt like it was about to explode inside him. Loki tried to swallow, he tried his best. But it barely went down and it was coming back up.

Loki bolted over to the bin, doubling over and emptying the mouthful he had tried to eat. Thor was there in a breeze, rubbing the space between Loki’s shoulders.

“Deep breaths,” he soothed. “Deep breaths.”

“I am sorry.”

Thor shrugged, stepping back and passing Loki a glass of water.

“It happens,” Thor said calmly. “Will I make you some toast?”

“I’m sorry, Thor.”

“Toast it is then,” he confirmed, going over to the kitchen. Loki felt guilt burning inside him. Constricting every breath he took. He felt it deep in his bones. 

How pathetic he was to not even be able to take a mouthful of pasta. He wanted to burn himself, he wanted to scratch himself raw.

He could hear Thanos laughing like an echo.

Loki’s hand came up on instinct, ready to smack himself but Thor caught him before he could. His brother's hands pinning his own to his sides. 

“No, Loki,” he said quietly. “Not tonight.”

Loki’s body was coiled like a spring, rigid and waiting for the attack but it never came. It was just Thor, holding him not tightly but enough to help him. To ground him. 

Loki pressed his head to Thor’s chest. How badly he wanted to scream, to claw at his face and pull himself apart.

His heart was ruined, the pieces no longer fitted and only seemed to cause him pain.

How did something that was meant to keep him alive hurt him so much?

“You’re ok,” Thor breathed. “Just us. In the house, eating pasta. In fact, I think I burned the toast,” he sighed.

Loki nodded, pulling away. “I’m going to go to bed now, Thor.”

“You haven’t eaten, Loki.”

“Not tonight,” he said quietly. “Not tonight.”

Thor’s face tightened, but he nodded slowly, then giving a plastered smile.

“See you in the morning then, brother.”

Loki wordlessly left, slipping away to the retreat of his room. 

*

That night, some time past midnight, Loki took out his phone. It wasn’t advanced or fancy, it took photos and rang numbers when he needed it too. He clicked the add contact button, and saved Mobius’s number.

He glanced at the screen and couldn’t help but feel it stutter. 

Thor

Peter Parker

Mobius. 

And for some mindless reason, Loki looked at Mobius’s title, then he fixed it. 

Thor

Peter Parker

Mobius :)

Chapter Text

“And I was like- what? Mr Stark, that's crazy , and then- then he did it!” Peter’s enthusiasm practically made his body vibrate as he hung upside down on the monkey bars of the park.

“If you stay upside down long enough, your brains will fall out,” Loki remarked.

“That’s a stupid theory,” Peter answered, swinging and then flipping off them and standing now in front of Loki. Young Peter Parker had grown since Loki saw him last, which had only been three weeks.

“Well, I’m sure you don’t want your brains to fall out just yet, do you?” he smiled. Peter flicked his hair back, he didn’t exactly walk. No, he bounced his way along the street next to Loki. 

“So, anyway, I passed in case you were concerned.”

“I wasn’t concerned. You’re extremely clever.”

“But I have to thank you for teaching me about Shakespeare. I think you should go into teaching, Loki.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Because you’re good at it. You’re great, actually.”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised. What do you want from Starbucks?” Loki asked, stopping at the building. “Go get a seat by the trees.”

“Can you get me a Strawberries and cream please?”

Loki fought hard to not roll his eyes at the request, nodding and walking into the building. Starbucks was too crowded, people were everywhere talking loudly and there was hardly room to breathe.  Loki wanted to flee. He wanted to run. 

“Oh, hey Loki,” the voice cut through. Loki spun round to see… Mobius. 

Mobius.

What the fuck was he doing here?

Loki opened and closed his mouth, trying to get something articulated. But the Starbucks was too much.

“Hey, Loki, come on. Step outside with me,” Mobius said calmly, guiding him out of the way and out into the streets. The breeze hit him, and kick started his lungs back into work.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, making himself breathe.

“I hate rush hour in Starbucks,” Mobius chuckled, leaning against the railing and crossing his arms. “Too busy.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“What?”

“Make me feel better.”

“I truthfully felt the same. I felt like I was being swallowed alive there,” he chuckled. Loki didn’t like how easily Mobius seemed to move. He watched him carefully, looking at Mobius then back into the Starbucks.

“I don’t think I’m going to go back in.”

“That’s ok,” Mobius said softly. “Well, I’ll see you around then, Loki. Don’t forget, if you need anything just drop me a message, yeah?”

Loki hummed, glancing once more at Mobius then nodding.

“Yes. Goodbye, Mobius.”

“Bye, Loki,” and then with one last smile, Mobius walked back into the Starbucks. 

Loki watched him carefully and then sighed, turning the opposite way and going to find Peter. 

*

The house was empty. Light broke through the curtains and blinds, crawling up the walls as the dust danced in the air. 

It wasn’t just morning yet, but it wasn’t night either. It was in between space that Loki adored. When the world was only starting to come alive. Thor had been an early riser since they were little and started a habit of going for a run when the sun rose. Loki never could live the way the other did.

He did, however, enjoy taking a cigarette and coffee out the back of their house and sitting in the garden and listening to the birdsong. 

It was grounding. Loki often went bare footed into his garden, and he adored the feeling. It brought him back to Norway with Frigga before everything went wrong. 

Loki sipped the coffee, letting the bitterness seep into his bones and sighing as he heard the ding on his phone.

Hey, little pumpkin.

Loki rolled his eyes at the text, setting his coffee back and shooting one back.

Why are you awake?

I was bored, jetlagged and lonely.

He knew what that meant. Loki always knew what the Grandmaster meant when he texted those three words. He looked sadly at his coffee, setting it back on the table and stepping into the house. 

So I’ll see you soon, chickapee?

Loki rolled his eyes, he walked through the empty house. The house didn’t stir, the walls didn’t make a noise. Their house in Norway had made plenty of noise, always groaning and creaking. Loki used to cry, until Frigga held him and told him the walls were telling him stories.

The silence crawled inside him and coiled itself around his heart.

I’ll be over soon

Loki texted back. He went up to his room, grabbing a nice outfit and straightening his hair, making himself look tidy and neat. Loki had his appearance and nothing else. Thor could get away with his rough look because he was a charming person, Loki could get away with the sharp suits and clean cut because it reflected who he was. 

He grabbed his packet of cigarettes and a lighter, checking himself once more in his reflection then calling an uber.

*

The Grandmaster’s house was a white washed tomb. There was nothing homely about it, there was no warmth. It was simply a holding box that people lived in.

The music was already pumping. Loki could feel the vibrations in his stomach. 

“There he is!” one voice cut through the noise, the Grandmaster walked forward with his arms outstretched. His tanned skin decorated in kohl, his sandals tapping against the marble floor. Loki let himself reluctantly be pulled into the arms of the other. 

“I didn’t think you were going to show.”

“I’m never one to disappoint,” Loki smiled, tilting his head and giving the smile he knew made the Grandmaster blush.

“Ah, this is why you’re my favourite. My favourite little poppadom. Where have you been hiding?” The Grandmaster asked, brushing a few strands of hair behind Loki’s ear and guiding him over to a seat. There were people mulling around, holding glasses of martinis and champagne, a white powder on the table, the faint whiff of weed scenting the air. 

Loki’s skin was crawling.

“I haven’t been hiding anywhere,” Loki answered.

“Well, all that matters is you’re here,” he smiled, a hand on Loki’s thigh. Loki closed his eyes, sitting back slightly and trying to get his body to relax. The Grandmaster watched him closely, tilting his head. 

“What’s up buttercup?”

“It’s been a stressful week,” Loki murmured.

“Really?” the Grandmaster asked, “What do you need?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, we have everything here,” he answered. The Grandmaster stood, glancing over at Loki. “I’ve been taking DJ lessons. I’m going to be the next Calvin Harris.”

“Will you?”

“Listen.” Loki watched as the man went and stood behind his DJ set, putting his headphones on and beginning a track. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t club house worthy either. 

It was the sort of music that if you took something, you’d love it. 

Loki glanced at the powder on the table, it was calling his name. He felt his hand twitch, the ache in his chest was there again. 

“Are we all having a good time out there tonight?” the Grandmaster called, despite the fact it was only around 5:30am. But the crowd let out a cheer, and continued moving and swaying in no particular direction. 

Loki moved on impulse, he grabbed the dollar bill and rolled it up. 

The best thing about cocaine was it made you feel like you were the best person in the world. And, the only person in the world. 

Loki was not Loki, he was a God. Perhaps he would be the God of mischief. 

He threw his head back, the familiar burn in his body felt good. It felt great. He wiped his nose, clearing his throat and then looking up at the Grandmaster. The man's skin was golden, so tanned. Loki contemplated how much of it was real and fake. 

But Loki felt happy . He felt untouchable. 

He got up, walking to stand next to the Grandmaster, pressing a kiss to the other man's cheek.

“Someone’s woken up,” the elder purred, catching Loki’s waist and pressing his body close together. “Didn’t think you’d do it.”

“I never say no to a good time,” Loki smiled, kissing the other mans cheek again. Loki felt almost delirious, he wasn’t a part of his body. 

Everything was fine. 

Loki was fine.

Thanos was just a fly, an irritating fly that was going in circles. All someone had to do with a fly was squash them. 

That was the answer, Loki had to squash Thanos. 

Mindlessly, Loki walked from the party to the garden, the sun had finally cracked on the horizon and the sunrise bled into the city below it. 

The sun was bleeding.

Loki patted his pockets until he found his phone, and clicked Thor’s contact. The phone barely rang when Loki heard his brother.

“Loki? Where are you?”

“I figured it out, Thor,” Loki breathed. “I figured out what I have to do.”

“What do you have to do?”

“I’ve… I’ve to squash Thanos. He’s a fly. And that’s what you do with flies, you squash them. Then they go away,” he explained.

“Loki, where are you?”

“I’m with Grandmaster. Why do you sound panicked?”

“Brother, I thought we said no more,” 

“No more what? Thor, I’m great. This is the greatest I’ve felt in months. Do you remember when I let the goats free?”

“Brother…”

“I need to let the goats free again,” Loki whispered.

“I’m coming to pick you up.”

“Are you coming to join the party?”

“Yes, I’m going to join the party.” Thor answered quietly. 

Loki grinned, hanging up the phone and sitting on the bench, looking at the fading stars in the sky that still lingered. Why did they still linger? Did they not know they were going to get burned? The sun was going to hurt them. 

“Get out of the way,” Loki whispered to the sky, the stars blinked but didn’t fade. Loki stood, trying to push them out of the way. “You’s need to go,” he shouted. “The sun will burn you. I’m helping.”

You only cause pain , a voice chimed. Do you like hurting people, Loki? 

“No.”

“Loki.”

“No, I don’t like hurting people,” Loki repeated, looking at his hands. Had his hands hurt his mother? Had his hands hurt her? Had he been the reason she died? 

Loki was the reason she died. He was the one who had asked for Thai, and she had insisted she’d drive to get it. 

He had kill her.

You like hurting people, Loki. 

“No, get away!” he shouted at the stars. He wanted to climb into the sky, cradle all the silver balls of light in his arms and protect them from the burning sun. 

“Loki, listen to me. Loki,” he felt an arm grab his elbow. Loki pushed them away, climbing onto the table of the garden and standing. 

“You all need to listen to me,” he commanded, his gaze still firmly at the sky. “Listen! You need to run!”

The stars just blinked at him. 

“Loki, sweetheart,” the hand tried to touch him again and Loki jerked back, staggering. He had been a dancer when he was younger, but his balance was gone now.

Loki landed with a soft thump off the top of the table, head first onto the ground below him. 

*

Hospitals were miserable places. Getting stitches was a miserable experience. Loki sat as the chemicals left his system. Now all he felt was a gaping hole in his chest.

His skin burned, and all Loki wanted to do was crawl into nothing. 

Thor hadn’t left his side. Thor hadn’t left his side as Loki threw up, as Loki was stitched back together. 

Loki hated him for it. 

“Can we talk about this?” Thor asked quietly. 

“No.”

“Why did you go back to him, Loki?”

“I didn’t mean to take it,” Loki answered. 

“I didn’t ask why you did a line, Loki. I asked why you went to him.”

“I was bored.”

“Being… being bored isn’t a reason.”

“It is to me.”

Thor pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to take a breath.

“I called Mobius.”

“What?”

“You need a friend!”

“I don’t know him!”

“Who else was I to call? Peter Parker? Do you want Tony Starks son to see you on a coke come down with a busted face?” Thor finally snapped. “Do you want him to see you like this? He thinks the world of you. I won’t, I can’t allow it. I can’t allow you to shatter that friendship because you were bored.”

“And where are you going?”

“I’m going to my support sessions. I need to process this, Loki.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“Loki, I arrived. And you were on the ground, not moving. Blood was everywhere. Last time I saw you like that…”

Thanos had done it.

Loki knew that was what Thor wanted to say. Loki knew Thor wanted to say that Thanos had beaten Loki within an inch of his life, and Thor had been the one to find him. 

“Hey, guys. Am I interrupting something or…” Loki’s head whipped round to where the sound was. Mobius had poked his head round the door, not fully entering.

“No. I was just leaving,” Thor said, standing up. Loki watched his brother carefully.

“I am sorry, brother,” Loki whispered in Norwegian. Thor froze, remaining almost tied to his spot then moving, giving Mobius a nod.

Loki had never felt more exhausted. Mobius quietly walked in, sitting down beside him and letting out a slow breath. 

“Hey, kid.”

“You’re only here because of Thor’s warped sense of duty.”

“I’m glad he phoned me actually. Listen, Loki. I see a pretty scared little boy trying to act not so scared, except it's not working. You’re falling deeper and deeper into a hole,” Mobius explained gently. “I think you need a friend. I think you need someone in your corner that’s not your brother or a child. Does that sound about right?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Loki muttered. “I don’t want to hear your bullshit. Why do you care?”

“I always care for the underdog,” Mobius smiled. “I see it. I see you need a hand. Will you let me be that hand?”

“What are you going to do? I’ve done rehab, I’ve done therapy. I’ve done being sectioned.”

“Those things are great, but sometimes they leave you a bit up in the air, don’t they? They leave you confused, alone, scared. They leave you with baggage. I know they try to help and for some they do help. I’ve seen it, but for others they don’t work. Sometimes you just need a friend.”

Loki turned to look at Mobius who was offering him a warm smile. Loki wanted to scratch the smile off him. He wanted to claw his face and ruin that smile. He was not worthy of a smile. He was not worthy of kindness. 

“Kindness is like a hammer, don’t you think?” Loki murmured. “It’s useful. It puts things in place, it keeps things stable. Yet, it can also be used as a weapon. It can kill.”

“Where did you hear this?”

“My father. He told us kindness was a hammer. Only Thor was worthy of it,” Loki explained. “Therefore, I do not need nor want your kindness.”

“Just a scared little boy,” Mobius mused. “Scared little boy trying to figure it all out. Been left on your own one too many times.”

“I wasn’t left on my own.”

“No. But you’re on your own now.”

“Would you ever just fuck off?”

Mobius hummed in thought, tilting his head. “I don’t think so.”

“So I’m stuck with you?”

“Yes. You’re stuck with me,” he smiled. 

Loki gritted his teeth. “I don’t do friendships.”

“Then we can be aquentices. We can meet up, have a coffee and chat about what’s going on, then never speak to each other until the next coffee.”

Loki tilted his head in thought. “I’ve one condition.”

“Go ahead.”

“It’s never on the west side of the city.”

“That’s fine. I actually live in the upper north, so it works for me.”

Loki nodded, taking his phone out and seeing he had ten missed calls from the Grandmaster. He went to rub his eyes, forgetting he currently had one the size of a golf ball. Loki winced at the touch, feeling how tender the bruised skin was. 

“You did a number,” Mobius said softly. “Stitches on the temple are always the worst. Why don’t you text your friends, tell them you’re ok and that you’re taking some time but you’ll see them soon?”

Loki looked at Mobius, then texting that. The Grandmaster responded instantly with a love heart. That was what Loki loved about him. There was no bullshiting with words, there was no masking. The Grandmaster only said what he needed too when he needed too. And if he didn’t want to speak, that was someone else’s problem.

“You like him,” Mobius observed. 

“I do.”

“I thought you don’t do friends.”

“He’s not a friend,” Loki said firmly. “He’s… a hand.” 

Mobius nodded his head slowly, not pushing him to explain.

Loki moved slightly, getting himself more comfortable in the bed. He hated the come down, he hated the feeling as everything left him. He truly thought he had been onto something, that the stars needed to be saved.

The thing he found with people who thought they were explorers, was that they usually were discovering something that had already been found. 

Loki thought he had been saving them, but instead, he was just falling deeper into the black sky. He was trying to save them from what he was letting himself fall into. 

Mobius shifted in the seat, pulling out a jetski magazine, a few jet skis were circled.

Perhaps now, he had found the moon that would kill the black sea he was drowning in.

Chapter Text

The bass was pounding, the speakers thrumming as the music caused them to stir. 

The smell of sweat, deodorant, and aftershave flooded Loki's senses and he sighed. Why did his friend have to work in such a shit hole?

"Looking strong, John!" Bucky's voice called out, Loki looked as the ex-soldier clapped, his gaze then going to the blond man in the ring who was not going strong in the slightest. In fact, Loki would go as far as to say the man was being whipped. 

Though anyone who went against Ayo usually got whipped, except Bucky (on a good day).

"Alright guys, great work today, let's bring it in," Bucky whistled, getting all the ones into the ring. Loki zoned out as Bucky gave him the usual post-workout talk, on how they did well today. Everyone was a winner. It made Loki roll his eyes until they hurt. 

"See you all next week, remember to drop a text or call me if you need help," Bucky smiled, clapping once more then hopping over the ropes and jogging up to where Loki had sat at the very back of the gym.

"Well, look who the cat dragged in."

"Pleasure as always."

"Look like shit," Bucky observed, passing Loki an orange. Loki looked at him in confusion, taking it and beginning to peel it. "I heard oranges help with nicotine cravings."

"I'm not quitting."

"No, but I am," Bucky sat himself down on the row in front of Loki and started to peel it. His mechanic arm whirring softly as the fingers worked. "What's brought you out here, Loki?"

"I just thought I'd visit."

"You don't do visits, doll. You only ever see people with a purpose."

"Maybe I'm trying."

Bucky looked at Loki, his eyebrows raised and the look of doubt in his eyes. 

"You haven't come back since Thanos went down. I don't take it personally."

"Because it wasn't a personal attack," Loki answered.

"I'm not implying that," Bucky sighed. "God, I forgot how twisty you get."

"Thor says I have no friends."

"You don't," Bucky ate a slice of his orange. "You don't have friends. G is a narcissist and Peter is a child."

"Then what are you?"

"I'm the guy who wanted to help you, but you didn't know you needed it."

Loki paused, letting the silence sit between them for a breath. He watched Bucky carefully. The man had cut his hair, got a new tattoo, and let his stubble grow a little. He was looking well, and there was a ring on his finger.

"Sam and you finally tied the knot?"

"If you can call it that," he snorted, looking at the ring. "Asshole."

"You say that lovingly."

"Yes, I do. I'm glad to see you Loki, really. But why are you here?"

"I want to spar."

Bucky choked on his orange, hitting his chest hard and looking at him finally.

"Loki..."

"I need to get back into it. As a form of art, instead of defense."

"Only you would call fighting art," Bucky scoffed, rolling his eyes. He looked at the empty gym then back to Loki, dressed in his favourite leggings and a t-shirt. He was ready to go. Bucky sighed, rubbing his face.

"You miss it," Loki continued. "I saw John Walker get his ass handed to him."

"John Walker is a pain but he pays, so stop it," Bucky said. "You were the best."

"What?"

"The best I had. You moved so well, I know you didn't enjoy hand-to-hand, but sparring with you, Loki, was the best thing I had. Then, then I hear that you are half dead and it was Thanos that did it to you. And I thought, Loki? No. No, that guy can get me on my back blindfolded," Bucky said, straining to keep his tone calm. "I hear from... from fucking Tony Stark that you are in rehab, that you were almost killed, that no one knew things were that bad."

"I'm-"

"Don't try and tell me you're sorry. You're Loki, you're never sorry," Bucky said sharply. "And I always loved that about you. Because I remember watching you when you first arrived, and you knew you were good. Was I a little terrified of you? Yes. And I watched you, watched how fighting for you wasn't fighting. It was dancing. It scared me when I heard what he did to you."

"Well, imagine this is me making amends."

Bucky rolled his eyes, "You're not making amends for anything, asshole."

"You said that helped you."

"Yes, after being an assassin and a soldier for the majority of my life. Go warm-up, we'll see if you still have it."

-

Fighting was like dancing if one truly broke it down. It was about coordination, it was about pacing, it was about flow. Everything had to flow, one movement bleeding into the next. Loki had spent his childhood studying ballet, and he had loved every second of it.

Fighting was different though.

Loki swung low, his leg sweeping, making Bucky lunge. 

As Bucky lunged, Loki dodged backward, rolling and bringing the pole he was using up. He hit the back of Bucky's knee, the other staggered and then Loki kicked him between the shoulder blades.

Bucky fell forward but quickly did a forward roll, jumping back up and swinging his own pole at Loki. 

By a hair width, Loki missed it. He bent then caught it, using Bucky's own strength against him and hitting him. 

Sweat rolled off Loki's forehead, and Bucky laughed.

"Struggling?"

"Never," Loki grinned, jumping and landing a kick on Bucky's chest. Bucky however caught Loki's leg, swinging him and bringing him down.

Loki was exactly where he wanted to be. 

Bucky moved forward, thinking he had the finishing hand. He charged to finish it, but then Loki jabbed Bucky's sides, hitting his kidneys then once more the back of the knees, while Bucky buckled, Loki wrapped his arm around the man's throat.

"Done?"

Bucky hummed, and in one fluid movement, flipped Loki over his shoulder and pressed his knee onto his chest.

"Done."

Bucky stepped off him, opening his hand to pull Loki up. They both were panting slightly, sweat rolling off their skin.

"Well done. You're still good," he smiled then frowning as he heard someone clapping. Bucky looked around, Loki following his gaze and frowning even deeper when he saw a man sitting in the stands, clapping.

"You go, Loki!"

"Who the fuck is that?"

"Mobius."

"Mobius?"

"Hi! I'm Mobius."

"Who the fuck is Mobius?"

"I am Mobius," Mobius called, making his way the steps to come to the side of the ring.

"He's my handler," Loki explained.

"I'm not his handler."

"You have a handler?" Bucky and Mobius said at the same time. 

Bucky looked at Mobius, then Loki and sighed. 

"What the fuck has happened?" 

Loki sighed, rubbing his face.

"Oh, nothing too exciting," Mobius said. "I am Loki's number on cheerleader."

"I went back to G."

"You went back to G."

"He went back to G," Mobius clarified, as if that hadn't already been covered.

"What the fuck is going on, Loki?"

"I need a second chance," Loki said. "It's part of this stupid plan Mobius has."

Bucky looked at Mobius who smiled, giving him a thumbs up and mouthed 'big fan'.

"I'm going to regret this," Bucky sighed. 

 Loki shrugged, grabbing his jacket and looking at Mobius then Bucky.

"I'll see you next week," he called over his shoulder then strolling out. 

Mobius stood, then patting his pockets and smiling at Bucky. "Pleasure to meet you, Bucky."

"I know people like you," Bucky said, standing and walking over to the ropes that seperated them.

"What?"

"I know the score. What has he done?"

"I can't disclose that."

"You say you're not a handler, but I know a handler when I see one," Bucky leaned down, "And I know when people are lying. You hurt him? What you seen today will be a shadow compared to what I will do to you."

"Noted," Mobius smiled, and then grabbing his keys. "All the best, Bucky."

"See you around, Mobius."