Apokruptein - Sariele - Loki (TV 2021) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter Text

Don startled awake. The instant reminder of where he was upon opening his eyes caused anxiety to flood into him, like his insides were being doused in liquid nitrogen. A quick glance around confirmed he was by himself, which added to his panic. He shot to his feet, in the process discovering the shirt that he’d lent to Loki had been tucked around him like a miniature blanket during the night. Picking it up from where it had fallen, he slipped it on, leaving it unbuttoned.

“Loki!” he whispered loudly, concerned at his absence.

“Up here,” came the soft reply.

Don sagged very slightly in relief. He knew logically that the other man couldn’t have gone far in his physical condition, but the fear of ending up alone again was visceral. He turned to where he’d heard Loki’s voice, looking up to find him sitting near the peak of the rocky outcrop. His knees were bent up casually and he sat leaning forward with his elbows resting on them.

“Are you alright?” Don asked quietly, well aware that they had no idea of knowing whether the creepy aliens were hanging around nearby.

“Yes, thank you. I seem to have recovered quite a lot overnight.”

The dark-haired man did appear to be significantly more alert, and had obviously been able to climb up the giant mound of rocks with no trouble. Don began to follow him up there so they could talk, and so that he could check on him properly.

Loki watched him hoist himself from boulder to boulder, then when he got closer, he held out his hand to help Don up the last steep section. He smiled in thanks and sat down next to his companion.

“What are you doing up here? It’s not overly, y’know, safe…”

He trailed off when he noticed that the wound on Loki’s forehead that had been weeping blood the night before was healed over, and on its way to fading.

“Loki…” he started, unsure of how to continue.

Loki turned to frown at him, puzzled.

“What’s wrong?”

“You. Your wound is…” he gestured with a little wave of his hand, “It’s nearly healed! That’s completely bizarre, that’s… well, it’s- it’s impossible.”

“It is?” Loki asked genuinely.

“Well, apparently not!” Don exclaimed, careful to keep his voice low, “How’s your head, are you still in pain?”

“No, I’m all right,” Loki said easily, “Seems like sleeping wasn’t so dangerous after all,” he added with a little smirk.

Don was perplexed, however. He gazed at Loki in something akin to wonder, before shaking his head, at a loss.

“In answer to your earlier question, I was using the vantage point in an attempt to get an idea of where we might have originally come from; that mysterious cavern where we first awoke. I was also trying to ascertain if there is any particular direction we should be heading.”

“And…?”

Loki sighed, dropping his chin.

“I have no idea, on either count,” he muttered.

Don huffed a breath too.

“Yeah, not to be all doom and gloom, but without our memories, how are we supposed to know what to do, like… at all? Our only objective right now is ‘stay alive’ and also ‘avoid the murdery stick-men’. And neither of us are doing particularly well at the first one, I should add.”

Loki seemed deep in thought for a minute, then, “You said that fungus you came across brought back a scattering of your memories?”

“Yeah, not much though. Nothing helpful. Except you,” he smiled, cheeks colouring faintly.

Loki’s mouth quirked, but he was still considering something.

“I don’t suppose it would be worthwhile to actually… seek out some more? Perhaps if one of us were to intentionally become influenced, there’s a chance that we might remember something that could actually help us.”

“Worthwhile?? Um, no,” Don replied hastily, “That whole thing was not something I’d be in a hurry to repeat, and I definitely wouldn’t want to see you go through it either. Plus you never know the long-term effects something like that could have on you.”

“I suppose so,” Loki agreed reluctantly, “But I just despise feeling so… so lost.”

Don leaned into him for a moment.

“At least we’re lost together now, that’s an improvement.”

He glanced down at Loki’s clothes. He’d put his damp undershirt back on, but had tied the combat shirt around his waist. It still looked very wet; the cold night air not conducive to drying out heavy garments.

“So how did you end up beaten up and soaked in river water, anyway? Did you fall in?” he teased.

Loki snorted.

“Yes, something like that,” he said wryly, “‘Fall’ being the operative word.”

“Come again?” Don frowned.

Loki gestured to the view upriver. In the distance, the top of a waterfall could be seen poking above the soaring treetops of the valley.

“Wh- You- you fell… from that?” Don stuttered in shock.

“No! I didn’t fall, I would never do anything so undignified,” Loki replied haughtily, “I jumped from that.”

“Loki! Why?!”

“It was that or be killed. The creatures had me cornered,” Loki replied matter-of-factly.

“But- but couldn’t you have-“

“No,” Loki interrupted, “It was my only option.”

“Well… sh*t.”

“Indeed,” Loki agreed, “But it’s fine, see? I’m absolutely fine. And I encountered you!”

“Only because I was nearly dying of thirst,” Don grumbled.

“Speaking of, it would be wise for us to go and drink something before we depart.”

Loki got to his feet in a graceful, fluid movement. Don followed a lot more stiffly, head spinning a little once he was upright.

“I wish there was something edible around here,” he lamented as they climbed back down, “I’m starting to feel it, the whole not-eating thing.”

Loki shot him a concerned look.

“What about you?” Don asked, “How’s your energy?”

“All things considered, I’m faring well,” Loki said with a small shrug. He bounded athletically across a large space between two rocks, then slid down the side to land on the ground below with elegant agility.

Don stared at Loki’s retreating form as he strode towards the water’s edge, awed and mystified. Who was this incredible individual, who could survive massive falls, heal miraculously in their sleep, and not feel hunger to the degree of a regular person? Who, as it happened, was apparently his friend?

He really hoped that he’d get the chance to find out.

*******

Loki and Don headed out once more after drinking as much as they could. The river’s water was clean-looking and tasted fresh and uncontaminated, so one could only assume that it was safe to continue consuming. Not that they had a choice.

The pair decided to continue moving downriver, mostly because it was in the opposite direction to where the tribe had been heading last night. However, there was a slim chance that a settlement, or perhaps at least some friendlier people existed somewhere here. If so, they were more likely to be situated close to a water source.

Keeping to the cover of the trees, but ensuring that the river could always be seen or heard, the pair hiked for a good couple of hours before Loki noticed that Don wasn’t doing too well. The man’s pace was slowing, although he never once complained, and he was starting to look far too pale. Loki didn’t want to draw attention to it though, and besides, he was fairly certain Don would brush him off with an “I’m okay” anyway.

Throughout the day, Loki ensured they stopped for numerous water breaks and to give Don the chance to rest. But as they moved ever onwards, he couldn’t shake a pervasive foreboding feeling that increased with every passing minute. He was uncertain if it was purely related to Don’s condition and their situation in general, or if he had a sixth sense attempting to alert him of something.

It was sometime during what Loki would guess was mid-afternoon that Don came to a stop, leaning against a tree with one hand, head bowed. Loki doubled back to go to his side. The man was breathing heavily and looking faint.

“Don?” Loki prodded gently, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m- I’m not sure I can keep going.” Don uttered shakily, not looking up.

“We can take a break,” Loki replied lightly, but he knew full well that’s not what Don meant. He glanced around at the gloomy woods, still feeling incredibly uneasy.

Don sighed, turning to lean his back against the tree.

“Loki. You might be some amazing, inhumanly perfect creature, with limited basic needs and the survival capacity of a... of a tardigrade,” Don huffed with no small degree of exasperation, “But I’m… I'm all out of juice.”

He tipped his head back onto the rough bark and closed his eyes.

Loki cast his gaze about their surroundings again, helplessly. He himself wasn’t overly hungry, although food would certainly be welcome, but it was clear that things were becoming exceedingly desperate for Don. Loki was positive that the man was actually playing down how wretched he was feeling. However, they knew nothing about the vegetation on this world, and he didn’t want to poison his companion and have Don die on him anyway.

He was standing there debating with himself whether it was worth the risk and if he should just start foraging for anything that looked remotely edible, when he suddenly began to feel a telltale prickling sensation under his skin. It was familiar from the previous day… right before they’d come across the creatures’ settlement and were ambushed.

No.

Inhaling sharply, Loki spun around, frantically searching the trees, hoping and wishing he was wrong.

He was not.

The beings had tracked them, and had found them.

Just like their first encounter, they dropped from above or stepped out from the shadows, approaching threateningly. Loki placed himself in front of his companion protectively, vaguely registering deja vu. Don peeked around him, whispering a breathless curse as he saw what was going on.

The scratchy, menacing sound emanated once more from the tribe. The ones who were armed brandished their pipe weapons, preparing to load them.

This was not happening, thought Loki. He would not let this happen…

Before he even realised what he was doing, he’d raised a hand up to the creatures, and a small burst of green light shot forth, then dissipated.

What.

The group’s advance halted instantly, as they all froze in shock. Behind him, he heard Don’s small exclamation of startled surprise.

“Mage…” one of the beings growled to its fellows. There was a hissing of acknowledgment from the rest, their abundant wariness obvious. The group’s collective body language suggested ambivalence, like they still wanted to attack, but were too intimidated by Loki’s little display of power.

Yet as one, they overcame this mere seconds later, and began creeping forward again, though with greater caution. Loki took a deep breath and visualised, attempting to “push” them back with his hand. There was another nebulous blast of green light, which once more vanished before it could reach them.

The tribe paused anew in reaction, but Loki was distracted. He’d noticed that with both flares of energy, he’d simultaneously had an odd sensation within his mind, like a force of some kind was desperately trying to break in… or break out. He was convinced that this was something that very much needed to happen.

So Loki closed his eyes, and concentrated hard. He allowed the strange powers to surge once more, the feeling coming more naturally this time, and with both hands flung out, he managed to cast a large and impenetrable translucent green barrier. But as he did, a sharp pain sliced through his head, strong enough to cause him to collapse to one knee, and for the barrier to dissipate. A sensation like liquid heat cascaded over him soul-deep, and just like that, the veil was lifted. A flood of images, voices, memories pummelled his mind, and it was all he could do to stay conscious.

He heard his companion cry out in alarm, but he was fighting hard against the barrage, and was unable to reassure him.

“I can remember,” he managed to slur breathlessly. The TVA, this supposedly simple scouting mission. Mobius. Asgard… his mother, and Thor. Jötunheim. Thanos, the Tesseract. And it just kept coming…

Struggling to refocus, he toppled forwards, barely getting a hand out to catch himself.

“I remember! Mobius…” he looked up hazily at his companion, his friend, and was met by eyes that were creased with both concern and confusion.

“Mobius?” he echoed, frowning in puzzlement.

“Yes!” Loki cried in relief, his senses slowly returning as he unsteadily pushed himself to his feet, “I can help you remember, too-“

He cut himself off with a sudden yelp as pain blossomed in his left shoulder.

“Loki!” Mobius yelled in horror.

Loki dropped his gaze, finding a lethally sharp blow dart deeply lodged there. His eyes closed for a moment as he suppressed the urge to pull it free, knowing full well it could do more harm than good. Instead he turned to his assailants as they drew nearer, regaining their confidence after his last barrier failed.

The injured shoulder made moving his arm impossible, so he threw out his good hand to cast yet another shield, now with full knowledge and control of his magic. But his focus was severely lapsing from both the physical pain, and the fact that even now he was continuously drowning in the deluge of returning memories from his extensive past. He still couldn’t hold the shield, and the instant it dropped, one of the creatures shot another projectile, this one hitting Mobius in the thigh.

Mobius cried out and stumbled, his back colliding with the trunk of the broad tree behind him. Legs giving out, he slid to the ground, eyes screwed shut and breathing ragged as he clutched at the wound.

“No,” Loki whispered, his heart plummeting when he noticed that Mobius’ leg and hand were already soaked in blood.

The damage was arterial.

He instantly felt himself falling into full-blown panic. The onslaught of memories, the encroaching enemies, and Don- Mobius, potentially bleeding to death right in front of him… it was too much. Loki was vaguely aware that he was beginning to hyperventilate, frozen in place as his eyes darted to the enemy, who were again closing in.

This was it. He’d failed his friend, he’d failed the TVA, he’d failed himself. They would die here in this strange, remote world, and the TVA would never even find their bodies. Because, as he could now recollect preceding events, Loki was fairly certain that the device in the cavern had sent them to the in-between; that the black orb he’d discovered had been the “key” to which the scribe had referred. Upon awakening in that disturbing dark place, the absence of the two hunters they'd brought with them, not to mention their flashlight, were strong indicators of this. He felt ill.

The throng was almost upon them now, and were reloading and raising their blowpipes once more.

At that moment, Mobius made a soft whining noise. His eyes were still closed in pain, his face deathly pale. The sound and sight were enough to violently jerk Loki back from the brink. Mobius needed him, what was he thinking??

With an involuntary yell fuelled by overwhelming effort and emotion, he thrust his good arm out, and this time, this time, a wall of powerful energy burst from him, blasting the enemies back so hard that they lost their footing and fell to the ground. Again he cast, and they were thrown back into the trees. Once more, and he created an impervious shield around himself and Mobius. But as far as he could tell, the creatures were rapidly retreating, so it was possibly an unnecessary measure.

Loki refused to take any chances.

He darted over to his friend, falling to his knees at his side. The amount of blood soaking the dark fabric of his trousers made Loki’s heart stop.

“I’m not very good at this, Mobius,” he said, voice choked with fright and tears welling in his eyes, “but I’ll do my best.”

With that, he placed his trembling hand around the dart protruding from Mobius’ leg, ignoring the cold dread pooling inside at the sensation of blood-drenched material touching his palm. Loki reached deep within himself, drawing upon every shred, every iota of magical power he possibly could. He poured healing energy into the wound, probing with his senses to detect, seal and fuse the tiny nick in the wall of the femoral artery.

It was a delicate and incredibly difficult task. Loki had never attempted anything like it, and he could vaguely feel his whole body shaking under the strain. He’d never fully committed himself to learning the ins and outs of healing magic, just enough to assist where he could. This was a test he was absolutely not prepared for.

Locating the source of bleeding, he stemmed the flow with a miniature magical barrier. Beneath that, he willed the tiny hole closed… it took him three attempts, which had him almost sobbing in frustration. Outside of himself, he could feel the barrier surrounding them sputter and weaken, and he sent another surge of energy to sustain it.

Loki then refocused upon Mobius’ injury. Next was to fuse the artery wall, and he devoted all of his effort to the process of knitting the tissue together soundly.

It was working. He could scarcely hope to believe it. The bleeding was now only sluggish, and comparatively minor. There was still the matter of the dart itself, however. Due to his left arm not functioning, Loki ended up leaning down and yanking the projectile out by gripping it in his teeth, unwilling to remove the hand performing the healing magic for even a second. Mobius made a pained sound as it slid out, and the fact that he was still capable of reaction was a great source of comfort, as much as Loki hated being the cause.

With a final burst of power, he finished mending the artery, and then did his best with the more superficial damage. But Loki was severely depleted now, and eventually realised he had to stop, because there was one last thing he needed to do before he would allow himself to rest.

A wave of vertigo hit him as he withdrew his hand from Mobius’ leg. Loki closed his eyes, waiting for it to subside. A hand weakly grasped at his uninjured shoulder before falling away, and he opened his eyes to find Mobius gazing at him sleepily in concern.

“You okay?” he mumbled, clearly fighting faintness himself.

Loki couldn’t form words just yet, but gave a short nod. He grimaced at the fiery pain coursing through his pierced shoulder, and focused all of his attention on speaking, because he had to get Mobius’ permission to do this.

“I… can…” he panted, then took a deep breath to get the rest out, “help you… remember.”

Mobius’ eyes widened very slightly, which was the only indication that he’d been heard and understood.

“That… okay?” was all he could manage.

Mobius nodded once, heavily, his eyes half-closed. Loki reached out and slipped his hand behind Mobius’ head, bringing their foreheads together with a gentle touch. He allowed his magic to surge through his friend’s mind, lifting the amnesiac fog and restoring clarity. Mobius inhaled sharply, tensing as his memories were coaxed out of hiding. Loki tried his best to allow it to happen as organically as possible; he couldn’t bear to cause him any more pain if he could possibly prevent it.

Once he sensed that it was done, he drew back slowly, just enough so they could look at one another. There was a spark of recognition in Mobius’ eyes that filled Loki with cautious hope.

“Mobius?” he whispered, desperate to know if it had worked.

“Yeah, Loki, ‘m back,” he mumbled tiredly.

Loki’s face split into an elated smile as relief bloomed inside. He grabbed Mobius around the shoulders and pulled him into a one-armed hug. Mobius raised his arms weakly to return the embrace as best he could.

But now... now Loki was completely and utterly spent. The pain in his shoulder was becoming intolerable, and the overuse of magic on top of all the other trauma of the past couple of days had him absolutely wrecked. Loki withdrew, intending to recline against Mobius’ tree next to his friend, desperate to catch his breath. But instead he teetered sideways, flopping bonelessly onto the forest floor. He heard Mobius calling his name in alarm, then just before he passed out, Loki smiled inwardly at the achingly welcome sound of a time door activating.

*******

“So this ‘key’ the scribe talked about, there were actually two of them,” Ouroboros explained, standing next to Mobius where he sat in a comfortable recliner at Loki’s bedside.

“Two?” Mobius asked, “Why? And how do you know?”

“The other one was at the bottom of the casket, likely fallen there after it was used,” OB continued, “It looked very different to the one that you guys activated."

"How so?”

“Well, for starters it was a pleasant cerulean blue. Not that evil-looking black.”

“Right. Did you test it?”

“No, I was forbidden by the higher-ups, they didn’t want to risk anything happening to me or my scientists. But if we were to take an educated guess, my team and I would say that the one you guys used was actually… cursed, somehow,” OB said that last bit with some degree of distaste, as though it wasn’t an adequate enough description for his scientific mind to accept.

Mobius considered this for a moment.

“Well I wouldn't know anything about that. Perhaps Loki might be able to shed some light on it once he’s awake.”

“Shed light on what?” A mumbling voice drifted from the infirmary bed where the god was lying, eyes still closed.

“Loki...” Mobius stood carefully to approach his friend. He placed a gentle hand on Loki’s wrist.

Loki inhaled deeply and blinked his eyes several times.

“Ugh, why do I feel all… fuzzy,” he moaned. He rolled his head around to look up at Mobius, then spotted OB grinning at him over his friend’s shoulder.

“Hi Loki!” OB exclaimed, “I hope you’re feeling better.”

“What happened?” Loki asked.

“You’ve had surgery,” Mobius told him, “To remove that dart thing from your shoulder. That’s why you feel weird, you’re recovering from anaesthetic.”

Loki frowned irately.

“Your TVA surgeons have… used me as a subject for their nefarious meddling?” he griped.

“If by that you mean, ‘did their absolute best to mend your shoulder and give you back the use of your arm’, then yes.”

Loki scowled, but apparently couldn’t think of a comeback, likely due to his drug-addled state.

“If there’s anything about their work that Your Royal Highness is unsatisfied with, then you can fix it yourself the next time we’re outside the TVA,” Mobius assured him with amusem*nt.

OB took the opportunity to speak up.

“I was just telling Mobius what we’d discovered with the orbs and the device in the underground cavern,” he elaborated, “Going over the recordings, we’ve deduced that this High Mage Sagran the scribe mentioned was a traitor of sorts, who had been abducted by the acolytes of Korosh, and possibly brainwashed or convinced by them to sabotage the rest of the Mages’ efforts in creating this key to the in-between.”

Loki blinked, seemingly only half-following what Ouroboros was saying. The latter continued however, unabated.

“We believe that he created two keys; one he presented to the High Mages, which was probably cursed. That’s what we would love for you to try and confirm, once you’re up to it. The other key, the non-cursed one, we think he created for the acolytes, to allow a group of them to follow the High Mages and their people through to the in-between. That way, the acolytes could eliminate them once and for all whilst they were under the influence of said curse.”

“What kind of curse?” Loki asked, gaze unfocused but clearly listening with interest.

“Like I said, we defer to you on that, but the most reasonable assumption would be memory erasure,” OB said pointedly.

“So Loki and I were cursed?” Mobius said in disbelief, “At the same time as being transported away from the physical reality of that world.”

“Yeah, you went to some sort of pocket reality, if you can call it that when it was apparently so extensive. Absolutely fascinating, the prowess of marrying science with their brand of magic. These High Mages were exceptionally talented.”

Mobius glared at the physicist, less than enraptured by his delight, and Loki didn’t look too thrilled either. OB sobered as he took the hint.

“But, uh... obviously you guys still need to rest up, so I’ll… leave you to it. Talk later, yeah?”

He smiled at them and left the room with characteristic haste. Mobius sighed and turned back to Loki, lightly squeezing his wrist.

“You okay?” he asked. Loki looked up at him, expression still agitated.

“I should be asking you that. My injury was trivial. What happened after I…”

“After you passed out on the ground, leaving me in an alien forest with murderous descendants of crazed acolytes hanging around, weakened from blood loss, and terrified because my best friend who I’d only just remembered everything about was unconscious from magical exertion, and bleeding from a deep shoulder wound?”

“… Yeah, after that,” Loki said in a small voice.

Mobius passed a hand over his face, feeling somewhat ashamed following his outburst. Loki had saved his life, after all.

“I grabbed my tempad, and opened a time door to the main floor of the Chrono Bay. It was a bit wiggy to start with, probably due to being on a different plane of reality, but it worked.”

He breathed out heavily, and gingerly perched on the edge of Loki’s bed, sliding his hand on top of the god’s.

“I couldn’t move, so I slipped off my shirt and tossed it through, hoping it was enough of a signal that a TVA employee was on the other side. Rescue came a minute later.”

“Quick thinking, Mobius,” Loki’s eyes shone with admiration. Mobius smiled down at him, but his gaze was serious.

“Thanks for saving my life,” he said softly. Loki turned his hand over to hold Mobius’.

“I was so scared,” he near-whispered, “I’d never tried to heal anything that precise. I wasn’t at all convinced I could do it.”

“But you did,” Mobius beamed, “And I will foreverbe grateful. I’ll bet your mom would’ve been very impressed too.”

Loki couldn’t help but smile at that, his eyes glossy.

“You should probably get some more sleep,” Mobius said, “I had to have a blood transfusion, and I’ve been told to remain in the infirmary for observation for a bit longer. Do you want me to stay here?”

“Please,” Loki said vehemently.

Mobius reached out to cup Loki’s cheek for a moment, giving it a tender stroke with his thumb before rising slowly. He eased himself back into the recliner, taking care of his aching leg. Loki had done an incredible job, but as he didn't get the chance to completely finish, it was still somewhat sore. He promptly became aware of Loki’s eyes on him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Don,” Loki said, “I just remembered. Where did that come from?”

Mobius was hit by the image of the faceless woman reaching for him, and the tiny baby in his arms. He shook his head slowly, and looked up at his friend.

“Eh, who knows. I mean, I was under the influence of some pretty messed-up hallucinogen, wasn’t I?”

“I suppose,” Loki said doubtfully.

“Get some sleep, Loki,” he reiterated. Loki closed his eyes obligingly, undoubtedly still lethargic from the anaesthetic. Mobius smiled fondly at him, but it dropped as the sight of the god lying there reminded him irresistibly of the woman in the hospital bed.

He might never know if it was real. But he knew it would always be there, sitting in the back of his mind.

Yet... as long as Mobius had Loki around, that would always be more than enough for him.