66. I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife

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Mobius's past came back to haunt him. He might be too far gone, but Loki was determined to do his best to help his lover get through it, or he'd die trying.

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Pairing: Loki/Mobius M. Mobius

A request from an anon in my Tumblr ask box, requesting for a Lokius fic where Mobius suffered PTSD from his pre-TVA life as a cop. Loki was there to try and help him recover.

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It didn't come back at once, flooding in like a wave crashing the shore, knocking you off balance. Memories, it bled back slowly, ever-so slowly. Like a disease, starting off with small symptom, easy to miss, then it ascended into something deadly. Because memories could be ugly, hideous. It could stay dormant for so long, but once it awoke, it came for blood, ready to suck you dry.

After the TVA was no more and the Time Keepers no longer able to control those whose lives were stolen, kidnapped from the timelines they belonged to, Mobius lived a simply life with Loki.

Things seemed okay. No, things were okay, at first. Two hearts in one home, free at last. There was no fear of being caught; the relationship they'd had to hide while still working for the organisation that caged them (but also the reason they met in the first place) 

Though freedom always came with price, if not by one's life then by something else, something just as expensive as life was.

It first started with flashbacks of sorts, a flashing image in his head that had Mobius blink a few times, but he could shrug it off after a second or so.

"Hey," Loki said, sneaking his arms around his lover from behind. His lips found Mobius's shoulder fast, giving it kisses like he needed to declare to Mobius his love, how he worshiped him as though Mobius was the one who was a God and not the other way around. "Everything okay? You seemed... tense, for a second --"

"No, no..." Mobius cut him off. "Everything's fine. Why wouldn't it be?" He chuckled and turned around to seal his lips with Loki's. Things were fine. They were fine, really, there was nothing to be afraid, no more danger lurking in the corner, no more being someone's puppets. So the images, flashing through Mobius's head just for a split second, of ruin and death, blood splat on the walls, couldn't be anything beyond Mobius's imagination, a twisted something his head conjured up from years of working for the Time Keepers, chasing dangerous Variants. But it was nothing Mobius couldn't move on from. They'd been through it and they'd survived.

In the end he escorted Loki to the dinning table, telling him to 'sit here and look pretty' which earned a chuckle from Loki and a blush on his cheeks, before Mobius went back to making dinner for the both of them. Today was his turn, after all.

~~~

It got a little more intense, more violent, clearer; the image... the vision in his head. It lingered longer, too. Long enough for Mobius to see what it was, and it wasn't one of the crime scenes he'd investigated as a Time Agent. It was a crime scene, that much Mobius could tell. Though what captured his curiosity (and his horror) was that he had no memories of what it was, only that it felt real; real enough that Mobius was certain it'd happened, and that he must've been there, at the scene. 

A body lying on the ground with a hole in its chest, pouring out blood. It was a man. In his vision, Mobius was standing over him, the corpse. His eyes were open, almost like he was staring right into Mobius's very soul, except his gaze glued blankly to the ceiling up above. In his loosened hand a machete, and when Mobius looked down at his own hands, his breath hitched in his throat when he saw there; a gun still in his hold.

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