Legal Disclaimer: My work is my own creative intelligence and property, but I do not own the original source material it stems from (I wouldn't be writing fanfiction if it was, or would I?). The opinions and interpretations of characters and events reflected in my stories may not follow what is portrayed from the source material. Please don't sue me, I'm a stay at home mom.

Summary: Sylvie realizes that He Who Remains wasn't lying about his variants, but she wasn't lying either when she said she'd just kill them as they came.

Rated: T

Genre: Action; Hurt/Comfort; Angst

Word Count: 2,059

Warning Tag: Premeditated/Intentional Murder; Violence; PTSD; Dying Timelines

Competition/Challenge Block
Written For: Monthly Challenges for All (Year 6); Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 2.0 (Term 2)

Hogwarts: A2 (Culinary Arts Task #1); Library (Loki); Gather (Rouge: Assassin AU)

MC4A: Hunt (Bipolar; Scarred; Messenger Bag); Fire (Speaker; Stack of Books; Hurt Me Kindly); Swap (Black Slacks; Wooden Chess Set; Copper Peacock); Garden (Angst; Sylvie; Traveling)

Author's Note: I like these what if scenarios, but also is this really one? How do we know Sylvie didn't do just this off screen, hmm? Well, I wrote it and made it a thing, so Sylvie is a time assassin now. Sorrynotsorry.

Also, I am not super familiar with bipolar disorder, so I apologize if I butchered it a bit. Dr. Google isn't the best reliable source, after all.

The song I based this off of is a good listen, I highly recommend it is given a listen. :)

Enjoy.

Wherever You Are

You hide, I'll see

Come play, with me

Just close, your eyes

I'll take, what I need

—Hide & Seek by Klergy, Mindy Jones

.oOo.

Sylvie really didn't know what the consequences were going to be once He Who Remains was killed. She didn't care. It was because of her that countless sentient—and otherwise—beings would get to live the way they want to, make decisions and choices, and pave their own path through their lives.

That was all she wanted in the end, too.

Her desire to find peace and quiet was her next step. Somewhere to nestle into and not be asked questions or be suspicious of her sudden presence. Be an inconspicuous nobody doing mundane things and worrying about nothing.

That was the kind of purpose she truly craved.

But of course it wasn't ever going to be so easy. The price for peace will never fully be paid. It was a curse she brought upon herself and there was no one else to blame.

Just as she started to settle down in the middle of nowhere, the DiscPad started to behave strangely. It didn't take long for Sylvie to figure out it was detecting variants. Variants of He Who Remains who started to sprinkle out and around the cosmos, and she very much couldn't allow them to survive, thrive, and undo her countless years of work.

So she knew what she had to do. She would become their Boogeyman.

Hunting them was almost too easy. They were caught by surprise more often than not, and they all were just like the last. Cunning, crafty, far too intelligent and power hungry for their own good. Their reasons for their actions sometimes varied, and to the simpler, naive minded would have eaten it right up, but they always ended up wanting the same outcome Sylvie could not allow.

It was just like killing He Who Remains; easy, quick, effective. Done in a heartbeat and without a second thought before dropping herself back into her home away from home in Oklahoma, not even batting an eye over whose blood stained her blade as she went in for a morning shift or to cover someone who called in sick.

Weeks would trickle by without a single blip, which Slyvie was completely fine with. The break gave her the grace required to remind herself of why she did the task that was self-appointed.

Free will.

She was the one doing the hunting now, giving the parasite that was what they all deserved for their cosmic forming crimes. They ended up everywhere, it seemed. Ancient Egypt, he called himself Rama Tut, and he made a massive mess of everything during his time-meddling. Sometimes she could get to them before they figured out how to travel through time and space, but oftentimes there was some damage already done before she took care of it.

He had several peculiar names like Victorex Prime, Scarlet Centurion, and Immortus, countless went by Kang; they came in many species of aliens and humanoid creatures, it didn't matter to her. The times where the madman had a variant of Ravonna at his side were especially satisfying, but not quite the same if it were the one who did her wrong.

If only…

She found one that was aware of her endless conquest, and that worried her and gave her pause. He was prepared for her…

"You don't think I know what you're doing," the Variant said, chuckling wickedly. "What you have done. I am not sure if I should thank you for freeing the multiverse or kill you for your cosmic crimes."

"You commit far worse than I ever had or ever will," Sylvie snarled, gripping her shortsword and stalking him like prey. "You're someone who should've stayed as stardust."

He laughed humorlessly, still leisurely sitting on his little throne, no concern for her presence or intent. "But that is not your decision, now is it?"

She glared at him, chuckling. "Oh, but I can certainly try."

"And what of Thanos? Or Prime Supreme? Doctor Doom?" He shook his head dismissively. "They are just as terrible, just as awful, as you claim I am. And what do they call you through the grapevines? Boogyman? Quite boring. Did you brew that one up?"

She didn't know who he was talking about, but it didn't matter to her. They weren't her target. They weren't the ones who ruined her life.

"So?"

"So?" He laughed, finally standing up. "So? It is only personal for you. How admirable that you chose me. This isn't about the others who have suffered… only about you. So selfish."

"I deserve to be!" Sylvie yelled, lunging toward him with all her might, throwing her blade for it to make contact.

He barely dodged her, catching her shortsword with his own strange pole-like weapon and pinning it to the ground. She didn't let that stop her, throwing a hard punch to his face to recover from the deflection. It connected hard, but he only laughed and headbutted her in turn. She was thrown backward, room spinning, but she was able to block a second cheap shot.

"Are these your little victory notches? A medallion of your murders?" he asked, tapping the gold metal where she had pyramid-like studs embedded into it at the base of her throat.

"Ten? That's quite a valiant effort," he said, glancing at the pins next. "And what're these?"

She kneed him in the gut, throwing him off her so she could roll away from him and recollect her shortsword. Sylvie wasn't sure how she'd manage this one, her element of surprise gave her an upper hand, avoiding having to deal with his skills in combat. There had to be a way. The fight was intense, and she was easily overwhelmed by his talent. He had her completely pinned with his pole weapon before she realized, and to her utter fear, it was electrified, eerily similar to the prune sticks of the TVA but so much more sinister looking. It was only then in this moment of defeat did she remember what Loki said to her what felt like a long time ago…

"We are more powerful than we realize."

She yelled then, throwing a ball of emerald green energy at him, sending him backward. Getting to her knees, Sylvie recalled Loki's abilities… the conjuring; a dagger formed in her hand… the teleporting; she got up and charged for him, but he braced himself for impact, she vanished. He whipped around, anticipating an attack from behind, but she was just a bit smarter, barely dodging the electric tip of his flailing weapon; she appeared and shoved the dagger right into the weak point of his armor—his armpit.

"Now it makes eleven," she breathed out, summoning her shortsword to make quick work of this one. "And you won't be the last… I can go on like this for ages."

She only groaned when her DiscPad blipped out another threat. They came more frequently now… she will have to rest sometime, but for now, that wasn't an option. Wiping the blood from her face, she set her destination for the next one, high and rejuvenated off her fresh kill.

Chicago, 1893.

Sylvie was furious when she saw Loki again, meddling where he shouldn't be with his pet agent. They weren't going to stop her. Everyone was in an abandoned warehouse, including Ravonna of all people, the Variant was being protected by Loki of all things. This fueled her rage even more. The grip on her shortsword was firm, her eyes ablaze with her fury. The shockwave of magic sent everyone flying, thrown off their feet and to the floor. Left dazed and recovering from the massive energy blast Sylvie let loose through the space, she took advantage of it and marched forward.

"I told you that if I came across one of him I'd kill him!" She spat, stepping threateningly when Loki stumbled back to his feet to stop her. "And I have and will keep doing, now get out of my way, Loki."

"No," he pleaded, keeping his hands up and reaching for her. "You don't understand."

"Oh, I do. And this scene is sickeningly familiar, isn't it?"

Her eyebrow hurt when she quirked it, the cut still fresh from the last encounter. She tried to hide the feeling of throwing up in front of him, remembering the hurt, the betrayal he caused her. "Seems like you've misplaced your priorities yet again, traitor."

"You can't look at me and tell me you haven't noticed your life has been changing around you!" Loki all but yelled. "Do you want to know why?"

The raw emotion in his voice and face gave her pause, so her gaze rested on the man who cowered helplessly behind him instead. This one would be no different. Not the path he was walking.

"You dare talk about my life?" she snarled, forcing the bright orange journal from the Variant's hand with her magic and tossing it at Loki. "If you hadn't meddled in this variant's life he would've been completely harmless! But no, he got a hold of that because of your precious TVA antics and he is set to control everyone once again."

"I don't want to take away anyone's free will!" Loki pressed, taking a cautious step toward her. "I want to help keep it alive. He can help us with this, with his Variants, with everything. Only if you allow him to come with us can we keep what you achieved thriving."

Sylvie scoffed, rolling her eyes. "We will never agree about this."

Without warning, she caught Loki off guard and threw him hard to the side with her magic. She was tired, she wanted to just go home and rest, forget about everything and move on, but she needed to finish this first. She approached the cowering man, who stepped backward and tripped over a decorative copper peacock that had tumbled from the table, causing him to fall and send a wood chess set and small potted plant flying to the floor, breaking it into pieces. This didn't stop him as he kept clamoring backwards, making sure to keep facing her. He clutched his messenger bag tightly to his chest, dirtying his once pristine black slacks, holding his free hand up in a meager attempt to stop what she was wanting to do.

"Pl-please. I… I haven't done… a-anything to-to you or anyone," he stammered out.

"But you will. You'll do terrible things to countless beings with no remorse," Sylvie explained, tightening her grip.

"That is not me," he pleaded, no longer attempting to scoot away from her. "You don't know me."

"I know enough," she snapped.

"But you don't know the heart... the heart I have beating in my chest. I have the will to make my own… choices. I'm not the man you think I am, or the one you—you think I become. Please…"

His words struck her hard. She stared at him, feeling the sudden burn of rage crumble into welling tears. Choices. Free will. Was he capable of being good? Would he use his gifts and abilities to help rather than harm? The dozen's of his variants she's encountered so far showed none of what he was showing, but it was only a small sample, and one out of twelve weren't the best odds to wager on.

"Listen to me, Sylvie," Loki said, getting back to his feet. "The timelines are dying as fast as they're branching. There is a device that helps keep everything maintained but it is overloading. We need him to help fix it so it can handle the influx and stop the branches from dying."

She met Loki's pleading gaze, her own eyes burning with tears. "And what of his variants?"

"The TVA can monitor and intercept them. You won't have to keep doing this… keep killing, you can just live. But I—we need to fix it first," Loki explained.

He looked like he wanted to touch her, but hesitated and decided against it, instead just standing in the deadspace between her and the variant. She swallowed hard and soon looked away, feeling all of the fight drain from her.

"Get him out of here," Sylvie demanded.

"Thank you," Loki said, relieved.

She couldn't believe she let one live…