Chapter Text
There is a genie in the living room.
Mobius blinks in confusion at first, staring at this being sitting on his coffee table like she belongs there. Her smile is bright and her eyes sparkle as she meets his gaze with delight.
Mobius freezes, for a second too overwhelmed to make sense of this picture.
Then he looks down at his hands, at the cute little music box in his grip which he got at the local flea market just half an hour ago, and the dots slowly connect themselves.
He groans.
“That’s just my luck,” he mumbles underneath his breath.
When he arrived here on this timeline months ago, he just wanted some peace and quiet. The TVA had gotten too much, all those memories lurking around every corner, and at some point he couldn’t take it anymore. He was on the brink of utter collapse, he felt it with every fiber of his being, and he simply needed to get out before he ended up totally consumed by the nightmare of his grief.
He chose a small town on the US West Coast by the beach in the 90s. Mainly because in all of human history barely anything of importance has ever happened and will ever happen there.
So he rented a small apartment with a patio and a view to the sea and tried to fit in. Kept to himself, learned how to surf and allowed the peaceful environment to swallow him up.
(No jet skis, though. Somehow he couldn’t bring himself to even look at one.)
It worked. Somewhat.
There are still bad dreams and sleepless nights. He still has to remind himself on a regular basis to eat something because he finds himself lost in his thoughts again. He still fails to make any meaningful connections with the people around him, the idea of opening up to someone too much to bear.
And yes, sometimes it gets so bad that he spends a whole day just staring at a wall and not registering anything beside the dark images in his mind.
He sees the Loom failing in front of him, he hears the agitated chatter of the people close to him – OB, Casey, B-15, Victor and Sylvie – and he sees Loki shooting them one last glance, that sad smile on his lips … the tears glinting in his eyes …
Yes, sometimes it gets really bad.
But more often than not it is all manageable.
Life. Surviving.
Mobius gets it done, just like Loki wanted him – wanted them all – to do.
And so he participates in the unexciting town life and spends his time going to the bakery, paying the local library a visit, walking down the streets and, yes, heading to cute little flea markets.
He picked up the music box because it looked nice. Nothing more, nothing less. And when he opened it up and listened to the song it played it stirred something inside of him. A memory from his time before the TVA, he is pretty sure. It certainly put a small and genuine smile on his face – the first one in quite a while –, so he didn’t hesitate to invest ten bucks to purchase it.
Back home he started to polish the box before putting it on the shelf.
And now they’re here.
With a genie sitting on his coffee table.
She looks human and Mobius knows at least enough about genies to be quite aware that genies aren’t a certain kind of species but individuals who had a curse put upon them. Therefore, sure, she might have been human once upon a time. Now she is dressed in clothes that were modern more than a century ago and wears those characteristic golden shackles around her wrists, making it more than obvious who and what she is.
A prisoner. Someone who is not in control of their own life.
She doesn’t seem to mind, though. No, her smirk is wide and carefree as she assesses Mobius right in front of her.
“Hello there,” she says cheerfully. “Look at that, lucky me. You’re one of the pretty ones.”
She even winks at him.
Mobius sighs and places the cursed music box onto the shelf. How come in even this sleepy town he manages to find trouble?
“I’m Shira,” she introduces herself. “What’s your name?”
“Mobius,” he answers because despite everything it would be rather rude to ignore her.
“Well then, Mobius,” she says. “This might come as a shock to you, but –”
“I know that you’re a genie,” Mobius cuts right in.
Shira seems startled only for a second, then her smile grows even more. “Oh, how wonderful. Then I don’t have to explain to you how this works –”
“Right, you don’t,” Mobius agrees. “And I’m not interested.”
Her grin now dims a little. “But –”
“I’m happy at it is,” Mobius objects right away. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
It’s a lie, an absolute blatant one, and she probably knows it too. You just have to look at Mobius and realize that he is not okay. Not even by a long shot.
Shira at least doesn’t hesitate to argue, “Whatever your troubles are, I can make them go away …”
Mobius snorts at that. “Oh yeah, sure.”
“I’m serious,” she insists. “You can trust me –”
Mobius quickly waves her off. “Trusting a genie is about the stupidest thing one can do,” he points out. “You’re tricksters. You twist words and morph them into something horrible.” He shakes his head. “And I mean, I don’t even blame you. You were cursed, doomed to be blessed with these universe-changing powers that you can’t use for yourselves. Greedy men and women use and abuse you and this is your only way to rebel.”
Shira actually appears a little stunned and stares at him with arched eyebrows.
“I don’t wanna be one of them, though,” Mobius continues. “Yes, my life sucks right now. It sucks majorly. But I won’t ruin it even more by dealing with a genie of all beings.”
Shira opens her mouth, obviously ready to defend herself, but Mobius intercepts her with another raise of his hand.
“Don’t try to sugarcoat anything,” he tells her. “If I were to wish to be the tallest man in town, wouldn’t you go around and kill any other man larger than me, leaving only me as the tallest behind?”
Shira, to her credit, truly looks horrified by that. “People do that??” she exclaims.
“Genies have done that, yes,” Mobius confirms. “And I don’t wanna be the one who dooms this whole town.”
“I wouldn't –”
Mobius cuts her off yet again before rubbing his temples in a most likely futile attempt to fight an oncoming headache off. This is too overwhelming all of a sudden. Not too long ago he wouldn't have batted an eye and would’ve handled the situation in his own style of professional manner. But now, after months of only having his misery and the uneventful life on this timeline, he is not used to anything beside that anymore. It’s draining him far more than he could’ve ever imagined.
“Look, maybe you’re really one of the good ones,” Mobius sighs. “I don’t know. Perhaps I can even trust you …”
“You can!” Shira eagerly interrupts.
“Sorry, but I won’t take just your word for it,” Mobius states. “Call me old-fashioned and overly cautious, but I can’t risk my life or anyone else’s only because you seem nice.”
She actually looks pleased by those words and some part of Mobius seriously wants to at least give her the benefit of the doubt.
Then again, perhaps he has just developed a soft spot for tricksters in general and only because there were one or two in his past who turned out to be way more than originally believed, it doesn’t mean that every single one is to be trusted.
“I’ve got a couple of friends,” Mobius explains. “They will help me deal with this situation. I’m sure we will come to an arrangement that everyone’s gonna be happy with, including you. Right now, though, I really need a nap.”
He rubs his forehead even more as he wonders where he put his painkillers.
“Look, you can read a book or watch some TV in the meantime, okay?” Mobius says. “After being cooped up in that tiny box I’m sure you can use a little break, too, am I right?”
Shira appears rather puzzled by Mobius’ behavior and the analyst wonders how many of her former masters were actually somewhat kind to her. Considering the wars that have been waged by the most horrific people in history to get their hands on the powers of a genie Mobius assumes it probably weren’t that many.
He puts the remote into her delicate hands and says, “Here. Due to your clothes I would presume it’s been a while since you’ve been out. The world has changed quite a lot. So please, press some of the buttons and have fun.”
He doesn’t wait around for her answer, but just as he is closing the door to his bedroom he hears the TV coming to life and the genie yelping in surprise. Mobius can’t help a little smile.
He immediately heads for his bed and sits down on the edge for a while, just motionlessly staring ahead and listening to the TV in the other room switching through channels.
Then, of course, his thoughts start to somersault.
Why does such shit always has to happen to me?
Why did I have to pick up that particular music box?
I didn’t even want to go to that damned flea market, why did I need to force myself to go?
Now there is a stranger in my house.
A stranger who might have the power to make any wish come true.
Any wish …
Any wish at all …
Mobius quickly shakes his head, chasing those thoughts away. He can’t risk getting lost in them. He might never find out again.
Instead he pulls the TemPad out of his pocket – he is still carrying it around wherever he goes because you never know – and shoots B-15 a quick text to contact him as soon as possible. He’s not sure how they might deal with his little genie problem, but things have to be done. He can neither use his three wishes nor can he just bring her back to where he found her.
Genies are powerful and dangerous tools. There is a reason why the TVA used to keep a close eye on them most of the time. Even does so now, in special cases.
Mobius sighs, puts the TemPad to the side and crawls into bed, with his clothes still on and no painkillers in his system. He just lies down and closes his eyes, hoping that his exhaustion would pull him under.
It doesn’t work, though.
He is lying still for ten minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour, and he remains tired and awake. Just looking at the ceiling.
And so, at some point, he starts to talk.
He does that sometimes.
He likes to convince himself he is only talking to himself, like some people do, but deep down he and everyone else knows that he is addressing someone very specific.
Someone who isn’t here anymore, but who might be listening in just the same.
Yeah, it has become a habit, especially when he is feeling extra lonely, and he has no idea whether his words actually reach their destination or whether he is only a silly old man, but it helps a little bit.
“You won’t believe this, but there is a freaking genie in my living room …” he starts with a wistful smile on his features and then nothing is able to stop him. He talks about the events of this afternoon and his past encounters with other genies and before he even knows it quite some time has passed and his throat is getting sore.
It doesn’t stop him, however, he just keeps on going.
“… yeah, well, I got myself into some mess again, huh?” he says. “How does that keep happening, can you tell me? 99,99999% of the people on this timeline never even see a genie in all their lives, so why me? Is this a cosmic joke or something?”
He thinks he hears Loki’s voice in his ear, telling him he is just lucky that way, and Mobius ends up snorting.
“Yeah, right,” he says. “I feel very lucky.” He shakes his head with a sigh. “You know, I wish you were here with me, so that we can share this experience. Or you could at least give me some advice. You’re quite good at that …”
He smiles to himself.
And then he flinches fiercely when he suddenly finds Shira sitting at the edge of his bed.
“What the –?” he exclaims.
Shira beams at him.
“Your wish is my command,” she says joyfully.
Mobius gapes at her. “… what?”
What wish?
He didn’t utter any wish …
Or did he?
Mobius’ brain tries to make sense of this, but it is too sluggish and he finds himself unsuccessful.
“Look, whatever you think I said, I didn’t mean –”
It’s too late, though.
Because the next second she raises her arm and snaps her fingers and suddenly everything becomes dark.