Loki one-shots fanfiction ♡

63. between hurting and healing

Mobius couldn't move on from a mistake he believed was his fault, a mission-gone-wrong that'd costed his friends their lives.

Loki was trying his best to help his lover recover. Though the trauma had left Mobius with deep enough a wound, and it put his relationship with the Trickster God in jeopardy.

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Pairing: Loki/Mobius M. Mobius

Trigger warnings for major character death, blood, gore, self-harm (unintentionally) and some pretty heavy angst.

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The task was easy — correction; the task was supposed to be easy — just another routine mission that should've been like the ones Mobius had done a hundred times and more he could've done it in his sleep. He knew the pattern; lead the team to the exact coordinates, find the source of a Nexus Event, prevent it and return to the TVA. An easy in-and-out task.

Except today's mission wasn't yet another tedious task, and the problem was, Mobius didn't know that. The problem was, Mobius couldn't have seen it coming until it was too late. There was an ambush, a dangerous Variant whom Mobius underestimated, and before he knew it, they were trapped, outnumbered, and the place became a slaughterhouse.

Mobius heard shouting. It took him a long while to realize it was his own. He heard crying, and nearly grimaced because he knew they were his people. The blood on his trembly hands, his arms, his shirt, Mobius wished it was his, he knew, with utter horror, it wasn't.

When the smoke settled and Mobius was the only one standing in the midst of the massacre — with the Variant and his henchmen successfully escaping, after they were done taking lives — he thought he was going to drop on his knees.
The shock of it all was the only thing keeping him upright.

They were all dead. His team. His friends.

They were... dying. Mobius rushed to B-15, quickly dropping on his knees next to her, the second he spotted his best friend. The Hunter was coughing up blood, choking on it, and Mobius had seen, more times than he could count, thousands of gruesome sights in the line of his work. Nothing came close to the fear creeping down his chest when he saw a deep slash on her throat.

He tried. God, he tried his damn best, tearing apart his sleeve and applying pressure in desperate attempt to slow down the bleeding. The wound was simply too severe.

"Mobius," B-15 said, or tried to say, when there was so much blood. Too much. "Mobius," she said again, louder, and it did halt Mobius's motion. His eyes shifted from the cut to her face now, and she was smiling. The pain on her face was clear, but she was giving him a smile. "It's okay," she said, words barely audible.

"No," Mobius frantically shook his head. He felt tears on his cheeks, and didn't bother wiping them away. "Stay with me. Please, don't —" He was sobbing, and was aware that no one had seen him cry before.

"Mobius," B-15 grabbed his wrist, it felt weak, which was unlike her.

"I'm sorry," he said, choking on his sobs. "This is all my fault. You're gonna be okay. You're gonna —"

"Hey," she cut him off, still smiling. "Not your fault,"

Mobius would've argued, he was too busy begging her to stay awake when he felt her grip loosen, eyes going blank. When her hand dropped and there was no life left, the reality of what'd happened hit, leaving Mobius feel like screaming until his lungs bled.

A hand touching his shoulder from behind, and Mobius spun around with a look that could kill. If it was the Variant coming back to finish him, Mobius knew he wouldn't run, and if he was going to end up like his team, at least he wouldn't go down without a fight.