Little stories of love and joy.

Loki?

Loki sat in the office room alone, spinning a pen like he used to spin his dagger. His brow furrowed as he stared at the file in front of him, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of the recent mission gone wrong. The door suddenly swung open, and in walked Silvy and Mobius, their presence bringing a sense of relief to Loki's troubled mind.

Mobius wore a broad smile, his excitement evident. "Hey Lokes, you're coming with us on a mission!" Loki's eyes lit up, a rare genuine smile gracing his face. "Really?" Silvy, always the one to bring a dose of reality, brushed past him dismissively. "No, doofus, we just said it for fun." She reached into Mobius's desk drawer and retrieved Loki's dagger, handing it to him. Loki twirled it skillfully in his hand, a familiar comfort in the midst of chaos. "Then let's go."

Mobius rubbed his hands together eagerly, while Silvy rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm. "Right, what's the worst that could happen?" Little did they know, their words would soon come back to haunt them.

The mission turned out to be a trap, a cunning ploy by the rogue variant they were after. Chaos ensued, and almost every agent was killed. The building they were in caught fire, the flames licking at their heels as they fought for survival.

Loki gasped for breath, his body battered and bruised. He had a deep cut on his cheek, blood trickling down his chin. A gash on his shoulder oozed crimson, and his leg throbbed from a deep cut at the ankle. The smoke filled his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. He stumbled towards the exit, his body weakened by the injuries he sustained.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Silvy's worried face came into view. "Silvy, where's Mobius?" Loki's voice trembled with fear and desperation. She pointed towards the burning building, her eyes filled with dread. "Loki, no!" But Loki didn't hesitate. He ran back into the inferno, determined to find his friend.

When he emerged from the burning wreckage, Morbius was cradled in his arms, unconscious and battered. Loki's heart pounded in his chest as he laid Morbius gently on the ground, his hands trembling with a mixture of relief and fear.

Days later, Morbius woke up in the hospital wing at the TVA, his body weak but his spirit unbroken. A nurse stood by his side, assuring him that he was going to be fine. "Hey hon, there's nothing wrong with you. You just inhaled some smoke. You're fine now." Morbius nodded, gratitude filling his eyes. "Thank you."

As he made his way back to his office, Morbius couldn't help but clench his fists at the sight that greeted him. Loki was perched on his desk, his face etched with pain as Silvy carefully stitched a gash on his shoulder. The wound was badly burned, the cut in the middle a testament to the danger they had faced.

Silvy huffed in annoyance. "Ugh, Loki, can't you sit still for once?" But Loki's eyes, red-rimmed and filled with exhaustion, were fixed on Morbius. His hair was disheveled, his hands covered in scratches from the battle they had fought. With a shaky hand, Loki reached out and placed it on Morbius's chest, as if needing the reassurance that he was real.

Morbius stepped forward, his presence finally acknowledged. "Hey, Lokes." Loki stood up, his body swaying slightly from exhaustion. Silvy's irritation melted away as she watched the two of them, her teasing comments silenced for once. Loki's voice was barely a whisper, hoarse from shouting and filled with raw emotion. "You're real."

A smile tugged at the corners of Mobius's lips. "I should hope so." In that moment, as they stood together amidst the chaos and pain, Morbius knew that their bond had deepened. They had faced death together, and in doing so, had discovered a connection that went beyond friendship. And as they stood there, their eyes locked, Morbius couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope for something more.