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Maria Hill wasn’t sure she ever quite learned how to form and keep a healthy relationship with anyone.
A parent-child relationship is the first and most important child’s first social relationship. Maria’s mother died in birth and her father took out his grief on her. Perhaps that had ruined every single relationship that she tried to form after that.
Maria made and kept very few friends at school. She much preferred to be alone and watch rather than join. She found that perching herself on top of the monkey bars would let her watch over the playground and she would stare until it was time for her to go back inside.
When she joined the Marines, she had to open herself up and put her trust into her squad, and in turn she was rewarded with them baring themselves to her to trust her with themselves. She was never quite close with them, she wasn’t sure she knew how to be, but they accepted her all the same.
The day that she lost them, Maria wondered if they truly ever trusted her with their lives and she failed them. She wasn’t sure if she would prefer they had never trusted her in the first place, then maybe some of her guilt could have been alleviated.
She had come to the conclusion that she simply wasn’t made to form relationships. Perhaps there was just something about her that ruined people. Her mother, her father, her squad, it seemed like Maria was just poison to everyone around her.
When she joined SHIELD, she told herself that she wouldn’t let herself open up to anyone. She was never anything more than professionally polite to her coworkers, maintaining her distance and shutting down any conversation about her personal life.
She heard the whispers calling her an “Ice Bitch” and she wrapped the name around herself like a shield to keep herself safe. They could call her apathetic and cold all they liked but they left her alone.
Her focus on her work was what got her her first promotion. She met a man named Phil Coulson who respected her boundaries but still remained friendly with her despite her disinterested attitude.
He taught her that she could remain professional but friendly too. She reluctantly let herself soften around him, but only after he brought her coffee for the dozenth time. She’d allot herself a few minutes to speak to him when he would gift her a warm cup of coffee. He’d always be bright and cheerful when he greeted her. He’d ask about her day but when it became clear that Maria would never talk about anything outside of work, he would start to talk about the weather and news of what was going on in the world.
When she got a promotion that put her at the same rank as him, he asked if she would join him to go out for drinks, and for a brief moment, Maria found herself considering it. When she realized it, she curtly declined him and walked away, proceeding to ignore him for the next week.
She didn’t know what to say when he gave her space before approaching her and apologizing for crossing a boundary.
Maria told him, “I am not a good person to befriend.”
Phil smiled at her, just a little softer around the corners than usual. “That’s alright.”
She eyed him warily. “I’m probably just going to hurt you.”
He nodded. “We can take it one thing at a time.”
Maria finally broke her own rule and very reluctantly finally let herself have a friend.
Phil never asked for anything more than she gave but she was always rewarded with his bright smile whenever she would try her best to reciprocate his friendship, mainly just by mimicking what he had done with her.
She learned how he liked his coffee and when she gave him a cup for the very first time he took a sip, looked up at her with wide eyes, and grinned. “You remembered!”
Maria did remember. She did a lot of remembering. She catalogized and analyzed every piece of information she received. Every little ramble Phil did, whether he thought she was listening or not, she stowed away in the back of her mind. She knew about his obsession with Captain America, his car, his childhood dog, his favorite place to eat, the reason he hates wearing polo shirts, each and every little insignificant detail that may be relevant later on was filed away.
She wasn’t sure what to think when Phil appeared to do the same thing for her. When they received their grab-and-go lunches from the cafeteria and Maria opened hers to find cherry tomatoes, she plucked them out. Phil had noticed and asked her if she didn’t like them and Maria told him she hated their seedy insides. He asked her if he could have them and she shrugged and passed them over.
The next time they got lunch with cherry tomatoes, Phil speared one on his fork before she had the chance to remove them and for a split second Maria wanted to yank her tray away and demand what he was doing. She grew up learning that if you didn’t eat fast then you didn’t eat.
Instead, Phil picked her cherry tomatoes off her tray and replaced them with carrot sticks from his.
He had remembered that she didn’t like cherry tomatoes and from then on he would always go out of his way to steal them from her tray and replace them with something from his.
And then Maria was promoted to a rank above him and she had no idea what was going to happen to their tentative friendship.
Phil carried on as usual, delivering coffee and stealing her cherry tomatoes as if she didn’t hold authority over him.
It had been the first time Maria couldn’t tell him something. He had asked about the most recent op she was on and Maria had to pause before she told him “It’s classified”.
Phil merely nodded his head and instead talked about the current mission he was on.
Phil never pushed her for information she couldn’t give. He never made Maria feel guilty for being unable to tell him about her work or her life, instead sharing more of his as if to fill in the gaps of her silence.
Maria found a comfortable solace in Phil.
“Okay, so I know that you think I wouldn’t do anything stupid,” Phil started before Maria interrupted.
“I don’t think that,” she replied and Phil blinked at her before a shy smile crossed his face.
“Good. Then you won’t be too surprised about what I did,” he answered and Maria narrowed her eyes.
She really wasn’t surprised.
“Hi,” the blonde-haired man gave her a wary once-over before sticking his hand out. “I’m Clint Barton.”
Clint Barton was Phil’s stray puppy that he brought home despite not having the authorization to do so. Clint was raised mostly in a circus and his specialty was archery. Not really the skillset that SHIELD needed but Phil was in a lot of people’s good books and Clint ended up accepted into the fold anyway.
Because Clint was somewhat important to Phil, Maria reluctantly let herself keep an eye out for him, just so that Phil wouldn’t have to worry.
Clint was a little reckless and clumsy but he was a very good shot and took to the training he was given like a duck to water, slowly thriving under Phil’s guidance.
Clint, like Maria, was wary of the other agents of his rank and it took a while to warm up to them but pretty soon he was mingling with different groups and being his usual boisterous self.
But the moment Phil had an op that didn’t include Clint, the man was almost exactly like when he first arrived. For some reason that absolutely puzzled her, Clint strayed to Maria’s side with Phil gone.
Maria didn’t think she had ever given any indication that she wanted his friendship but he hovered at her side nervously and she felt a little bit of pity for him. She couldn’t say she entirely understood his separation anxiety but she knew that he was just worried about Phil like she was.
She let him hover at her side and put him to work assisting her with the lower-level files she had to sort through. Clint dutifully listened to her instructions and Maria thought he was glad to have something else to focus on for the time being.
When she awkwardly extended an invitation for him to join her for lunch, Clint accepted. Maria couldn’t help but notice that he did not touch anything that wasn’t pre-sealed which meant he lived mostly on processed foods and snacks.
“You’re going to give yourself scurvy,” Maria told him one time and snatched his serving of grapes off of his tray to replay it with her fruit cup. Clint’s face twisted for a moment when she took the grapes and Maria knew instantly what he had thought before she gave something in exchange. “The canteen serves fruit cups on Tuesdays and Thursdays but they’ll make exceptions if you request it.”
Clint stared down at the sealed fruit cup before picking it up and inspecting it. “Thanks,” he mumbled before breaking the seal and slurping down the juice before eating the fruit.
Maria continued asking for fruit cups with her lunch. She continued to trade. Clint started to trade her his packaged snack cakes instead, insisting that she could use a little treat in her life.
Maria started to save the snack cakes she didn’t finish in a drawer in her office, and on days Clint would join her looking for something familiar she would pull one out to chuck at his face, enjoying the way he never had to look up to catch it from the air.
Maria had never considered that Clint would worry about her when she went away on ops until Phil told her just that.
“I’d never seen him so nervous about someone being away before,” Phil grinned at her. Maria couldn’t understand why Clint was worried about her. “You should say hi to him.”
So Maria started checking in with Clint whenever she would return from missions just as she would do with Phil. At some point, Clint started to do the same in return.
At some point, Maria realized the relief she felt when he was standing in front of her with that goofy smile on his face, safe and whole.
The first time Maria got seriously injured enough to be admitted to the med bay, she was surprised when Phil showed up with Clint on his heels.
It was a foreign feeling to have people at her side when she was hurt, wishing her well.
Maria had more work than them but whenever one of them found their way there, usually Clint, Maria would find the time to take a few moments to show up, hoping that they felt at least a little bit like her when they were at her side.
Maria got promoted again and suddenly the secrets she had to keep were everywhere as she was let in on things that not many knew.
And then she was told to lie for the first time. There had been a triple agent that exposed and ambushed their team while out on an op and Maria had been told to keep it under wraps. The triple agent had been killed in retaliation and Maria watched as he was honored as a beloved SHIELD member who fell during his duty.
Phil commented on his loss and Maria held her tongue when he grieved the loss of what he thought was an innocent man gone too soon.
Maria learned how it felt to be lied to and each time she found out that SHIELD had lied to her, she simply processed her feelings in her own time and moved on.
Secrets were a part of the package and if Maria couldn’t learn to handle that then she should just quit and go home.
But Maria wasn’t a quitter. She clenched her jaw and shook off each little feeling of betrayal that chipped at her frame.
“You know,” Maria started, glaring down at the sheepish blonde-haired man. “If you wanted to annoy me, there are easier ways than this.”
When he had greeted her with an “Okay, don’t be mad”, Maria had a flashback to the time that Phil told her he brought home a stray.
The assassin that he had been sent to take out sat next to him, staring up at Maria with cool, calculating eyes as Clint fumbled for a good reason, and Maria resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose in exasperation.
“I just need you to trust me on this, Maria,” he finally pleaded. Maria almost caved right there. She did trust him. She trusted his judgment and she trusted that he wasn’t going to let his guard down unless he truly thought he could.
But she was a SHIELD agent first and she couldn’t let her feelings or personal relationships get in the way. “I’ll let you know what they say,” she replied, ignoring the pit in her stomach as his face fell.
Maria listened as Phil rambled his frustrations about his newest agent placed in his care.
“Phil,” she finally interrupted and he quieted down. “This is all Clint’s fault. If you can’t handle Romanoff then it’s his issue.”
Phil’s face fell a little and Maria realized that she had been rude.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh, leaning back in her chair to massage her temples. “I’m just stressed.”
Phil’s face softened. “I understand. You are right though, this is definitely Clint’s fault.”
“He gets it from you,” Maria retorted and Phil laughed.
Something unclenched in Maria’s chest.
Maria had been so busy climbing the ranks and doing her job that when Nick Fury showed up to see her, she was taken aback.
He had broken into her office, sitting in the dark with his feet on her desk as he waited for her to enter for the day. She had nearly shot him in the head thinking he was an intruder.
“I need a right-hand man,” he told her, unflinching at the sight of the gun pointed at his forehead. Maria blinked at him in confusion but stowed her gun and took a seat when he ordered. “And I think you are a perfect fit for the job.”
“What does the job entail?” Maria inquired and he sat up, suddenly more serious than before.
“You will be forever tethered to my side. We will be intimately familiar with each other in a way that nobody else could replicate.” His one good eye pinned her to her spot. “You will have to lie to the face of your loved ones, and one day you may have to die and watch your own funeral. Can you do that?”
Maria watched him for a few moments and carefully considered his words. She knew what he was offering and the weight of what he wanted from her.
Maria nodded. “I can.”
He leaned forward and extended his hand. “Then it is a pleasure to meet you, Hill.”
Maria took his hand. “You as well, sir.”
“Please,” a rare smile crossed his face. “Call me Nick.”
Nick learned more about her in a month than anybody else had in her entire life. He told her that he needed to know, for security risk purposes he had to get a better understanding, and Maria figured that her secrets were safer with nobody else than him.
But there were a handful of things she refused to divulge, things given to her to look after, entrusted to her by her friends when they were vulnerable. No matter how much Nick pressed or threatened, she refused.
“This is why I picked you,” he finally said, taking Maria off guard. “You are exactly what I need.”
Maria Hill then learned every little piece about Nick that he found prudent to tell her, access to nearly every SHIELD secret at her fingertips, secrets that were now hers to keep as well.
She stood at his side and she lied, just as was expected of her.
“I want to put a couch in my office.”
Nick looked up at her with an unamused face. “And why the hell would I let you put a couch in your office?”
Maria shrugged slightly. “Because you can?”
Nick narrowed his eyes at her. Maria thought for a moment she had pushed too far before he finally shook his head with a sigh. “If it follows fire safety regulations then go nuts.”
Maria put a couch in her office, tucked away in the corner where she could rest during long days when she simply didn’t have the energy to make it back to her room.
It became a favored spot for Clint to perch himself when he annoyed her and soon Maria found Natasha frequenting it as well.
Maria wasn’t close to Natasha, the woman regarded Maria with the same wary distrust that she did all authority, but Maria kept an eye out for her anyway because she was Phil’s and whatever was important to Phil was important to Maria.
On days when things were too loud and chaotic, Maria would find a redhead draped across her couch as if she belonged and Maria would only ever tell her to take her boots off the fabric because she wasn’t raised in a barn.
“How do you know I wasn’t raised in a barn?” Natasha countered one day.
Maria stuttered for a second, baffled by the retort to her statement for once, before she remarked, “Then I want to meet whatever horses taught you to speak.”
Natasha laughed, not one of her airy and light ones that signaled a fake laugh but a deep chuckle that took Maria off guard.
Maria found, with surprisingly less horror than she thought, that Natasha might be her friend too.
Maria had heard briefly through Phil that Clint and Natasha had come back from a rough op but instead of being where they were supposed to be, their butts planted on beds in the med bay, they had eloped somewhere else to presumably take care of it themselves.
Maria reassured him that they were probably fine and promised to keep an eye out for them, resolving to take a cursory glance when she had a few minutes.
The moment she walked into her office, she just let out a tired sigh. “Should I tell Coulson that I found his wayward strays?” She asked, taking in the sight of the duo on her couch.
“Heyyyy, Maria,” Clint gave her a sheepish glance, shrinking in on himself as Maria took stock of his dirtied form and the blood drying on the side of his face. “Please don’t.”
“Give me one good reason not to personally escort you to the med bay,” Maria folded her arms, raising an eyebrow as she stared down at the weary-looking duo.
“Because you love us?” Clint said with a hopeful smile. Maria just stared at him and it slowly fell before he looked down at his knees. “Please?”
His smaller tone made Maria think twice about it. He obviously wouldn’t divulge what it was, and he had never really had an issue before with the med bay. He had been reluctant to receive medical care when first recruited but never had he actually fled and hid from it.
Her eyes then fell onto the woman beside him and she suddenly realized that Natasha had never really needed to be patched up after an op before, at least not to the degree that it currently looked like.
Maria was loyal to SHIELD but even rules were broken at times.
“Just this once,” she warned them as she pulled open the bottom drawer on her desk to pull out the first aid kit she kept there and tossed it at them.
“You are the best ever,” Clint replied as he caught it out of the air and immediately started to dig into it.
“Will you tell that to Coulson’s face?” Maria asked with a slight laugh.
“I will tell him you’re my favorite,” Clint nodded as he started to pluck out what he needed.
Maria tuned out the noise of wrappers as Clint and Natasha patched each other up on her couch. When they finished, she tugged open her drawer and snatched two of the snack cakes out to chuck at them as well.
Clint made sure to tell Phil loudly, after the man had asked him to do something that he didn’t want to do, and after ensuring Maria was nearby, that she was his favorite.
“Maria can’t get you out of writing reports,” Phil replied dryly.
“No,” Clint begrudgingly admitted. “But she clearly likes me the best.”
Phil stared at him for a few moments before shaking his head. “Nope. I’ve known her longer.”
Maria watched as they descended into a childish game of trying to argue about who she liked more.
“You’re both wrong,” Maria interrupted them to stop their squabbling. “Natasha’s my favorite.”
They both gave her looks of betrayal as Natasha smirked at them.
Maria wasn’t sure when she got close enough to them to be playing favorites but she found that she didn’t mind it at all.
“I told you that I was only making an exception one time,” Maria started when she found Natasha perched on her couch, scrapes and smudges of dirt on her face and suit. “You’re expected in medical. C’mon, I’ll walk you to make sure you don’t get lost.”
But Natasha didn’t move from the couch, and while streaks of stubbornness and defiance was known with her, Maria knew that it wasn’t as simple as that.
“One reason. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t and I will let you stay,” Maria gave her a chance, figuring that if she knew the problem then she could fix it, and next time Natasha wouldn’t bother her.
Natasha took a few moments to think about it. “I don’t think I have any that would be good enough,” she finally admitted.
“Then give me a reason,” Maria amended, moving toward her desk.
“Doctors and I... don’t get along,” Natasha slowly replied. It wasn’t really a reason but Maria supposed she got what she asked for.
“You can’t keep coming here each time you’re hurt,” she said as she pulled open the bottom drawer to fetch the first aid kit.
“I apologize,” Natasha said stiffly and Maria immediately realized what her words were construed as.
“You also can’t keep fleeing and dealing with it yourself,” she walked over to the couch to extend the first aid kit. “I get that trust isn’t exactly in your vocabulary but all SHIELD doctors are thoroughly vetted. I can personally assure that you are looked after by one I trust to take care of me.”
Natasha doesn’t look her in the eyes as she took the first aid kit. Her silence speaks enough and Maria resisted the urge to sigh.
“What if I’m there?” She offered. “I will stand at your side the whole time and ensure that nothing you don’t want happening happens.”
For a moment, it looked like Natasha considered her offer before dismissing it without a word.
“Okay.” Maria leaned back to sit on her desk as she watched Natasha rifle through her first aid kit, making a mental note to replenish it soon. “How about this? Whenever you get injured enough that it is deemed necessary for you to visit the med bay, and you’re not going to go, then you come to me. Not Coulson, not Clint, but me.”
“I thought you said I couldn’t keep coming here,” Natasha rasped out as she ripped open an alcohol pad to swipe over the grazes on her face.
“If it’s between you coming here and you getting no medical treatment at all, then you come here,” Maria watched her patch herself up.
“And not Coulson or Clint?”Natasha paused for a moment to raise an inquisitive eyebrow at her.
“They’re too soft-hearted and would let you get away with patching yourself up in private,” Maria commented.
“So I’m here so you can watch me undress to search for wounds?” Natasha paused and Maria suddenly realized how it sounded and backtracked.
“No.” The words came out firmer than Maria intended. Natasha had ceased all movement to take care of herself. “I am never, ever going to force you to undress alone in my office. I’m trying to help you, Romanoff. I want to make this easier for you and compromise because you don’t want to go to the med bay. But if you think that I am abusing my authority then I want you to tell Coulson or Clint.” She took stock of Natasha’s look. “I’m serious. That isn’t a threat. I don’t want to be someone who does that and if you think that I am I want you to tell them so they can yank my ass back down to Earth.”
Maria was at a loss for what to do. Was she abusing her authority by offering Natasha this? It was against the rules, Maria was bending them, and she was asking for Natasha to come to her instead of anyone else.
“Okay,” Natasha finally said. Maria didn’t know what it was confirmation of but the woman continued to patch herself up so Maria decided to let things be.
“Who is your next of kin?”
Maria glanced over at Nick with a frown. They were overseeing an operation happening down below, agents building a new jet with updated technology. “I don’t have one.”
“Hmm,” he grunted, eyeing the agents working below them. “Let me rephrase that. Who should I deliver your body to upon your death?”
Maria’s heart skipped a beat. She had no parents or siblings. She had Phil but she couldn’t imagine leaving him with the burden of her body on top of her death. “I don’t know.”
“You should figure it out,” he said, his eye peering over at her. “Before it’s too late.”
Maria inclined her head, thinking it over for a few moments. “If I die then I’d like for you to handle my body, sir.”
Nick stood next to her for a few long seconds before he inclined his head. “Put that in your file.”
Maria found Natasha on her couch more than she expected, Clint sometimes accompanying her to bother Maria for things he wanted that weren’t exactly against the rules but didn’t seem like they’d be allowed.
“You know the rules like the back of your hand, surely you can think of a loophole,” he’d beg and Maria would glare at him until he would squirm before giving him the answer that he needed.
Maria let herself fall into her work, often tugged out of her hole by Phil, his two little agents following closely behind him as he extended the same warm kindness that he always had.
Clint interrupted her one day, out of breath and with the scent of ash and smoke clinging to him. He leaned in her doorway, panting for air before he told her that Natasha was in the med bay, she was pissed, and she was demanding to speak with her.
Maria was loyal to SHIELD and she had time-sensitive work but she closed her computer and stood, abandoning her desk as she fell into step next to Cilnt.
The room in the med bay looked like someone was almost murdered, with blood smearing along the sheets and bloody handprints on the wall.
Maria saw the padded restraints on the bed used for agents that were out of their mind with pain, trying to be combative because they just wanted it to stop. It was a means of safety for their staff. The moment Maria saw them, she wanted to grab the nearest doctor and demand to know what they were thinking.
“Director Hill!” The doctor straightened up when they saw her. “I’m glad that you’re here--”
“Get out.” Maria pointed toward the door. The doctor faltered slightly but needed no further prompting under her glare and fled. Maria then turned to look at Clint. “You too.”
“What?” Clint yelped, his eyes widening. “I’m not leaving--”
“Clint,” Maria interrupted. “Do you trust me?” She knew what a loaded statement that was. “Do you trust me to help her?”
Clint doesn’t hesitate before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, of course I do.”
“Then go get yourself looked at,” Maria softened her tone slightly. “I have this.”
The truth was Maria had absolutely no idea what she was going to walk into or what she would have to do. But Clint trusted her and it never really hit her how much until he turned his back on her to leave her with his partner.
Maria turned back to the room and moved further inside after a moment. She finally laid eyes on Natasha, wedged between a supply cabinet and the wall, a makeshift weapon white-knuckled in her bloodied hand.
“I’m here,” Maria told her, stepping into Natasha’s line of sight. She wasn’t sure the woman recognized her at first, blinking up at her with the same wary distrust Maria had seen in her earlier days at SHIELD. “You asked for me. I’m here. What can I do?”
There was blood pooling on the floor under Natasha’s frame but the woman was so tightly curled up that Maria couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“Do you need me to be your friend or your superior?” Maria finally asked, needing to know how to go about it.
“Superior,” Natasha whispered, the hand with her makeshift weapon wavering.
So Maria detached herself from the situation and pretended that it wasn’t harder than she thought it would be. She got Natasha out of the corner and onto the bed, the wound bared to her as she took stock of the damage.
Natasha sat deathly still on the bed, taking breaths so shallow that Maria wasn’t sure if she was even getting enough oxygen. Still, Maria patched her up with clinical precision, stepping out of the room long enough to have Clint bring her a set of spare SHIELD-issued sweatshirt and sweatpants for Natasha to change into.
Natasha said nothing when Maria finished. She sat on the bed as Maria cleaned up the mess she had made, attempting to get blood out from under her fingernails.
The entire time, Natasha still had a grip on her makeshift weapon.
The entire time, she didn’t once use it on Maria.
Maria had never really thought the idea of the Avengers Initiative was a good idea but Nick did and she had been unable to come up with enough counterarguments to shut the project down for good.
When a tyrannical God invaded Earth and Nick put his plan into place, Maria did her best to keep cool under the chaos, looking out for Phil’s strays in the midst of the mayhem.
Her heart stopped the moment it was announced that Phil Coulson was fatally wounded. By the time she managed to make her way to his side, she was too late.
She was vaguely aware of Nick sliding the bloodied Captain America trading cards across the table to the Avengers, confusion wading through the chaos in her head because he wouldn’t have kept them on him, he liked to keep them safe in his locker. The blood shouldn’t have gotten through the plastic sleeves either.
A little pit of betrayal gnawed at her gut but she shoved it away and focused on the present. She could figure it all out later.
By the time aliens invaded and were then defeated, amidst the clean-up detail they were on, Maria grieved in the moments she had.
Then Nick pulled her aside, yanking her out of her mourning, and presented her with a man who wasn’t quite dead.
It was the first time Maria realized what faking a death truly meant before Nick told her in a low tone that Phil had been clinically dead for a few minutes.
Maria threw up in a trash can, sudden grief and betrayal gripping her so hard that she could do nothing but retch as realization slammed into her of what she had signed up to do.
Nick’s hand settled on her back, his other sweeping her hair out of her face as she did her best to wrangle her erratic emotions.
“They can’t know,” he told her.
Maria swallowed back the saliva pooling in her mouth. “When can they?”
The silence that came answered her and Maria realized that nobody could know. Phil Coulson was going to be another one of SHIELD’s dirty little secrets.
Following the death of Phil, Maria watched as Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff spiraled. Nick placed them together under another handler. But time and time again they would be kicked from teams, erratic and non-complacent, refusing to listen to orders or acting out.
Maria heard Nick threaten to suspend them for the time being and she desperately wanted to find a way to help. She blurted out that she’d take them.
Nick eyed her, slight disappointment creeping into his gaze. “Your position doesn’t allow you to take on personal teams.”
“I’m the only one who knows how to handle them,” Maria pointed out. Phil was off rehabilitating somewhere and Maria had yet to go and face him in person. “They’re spiraling. They’re going to grieve whether or not you kick them off. Let me do this.”
“Doing this will not absolve you of your guilt,” Nick said, his words like a punch to the gut as he pinpointed exactly why Maria was doing it in the first place.
Maria swallowed hard, nodding her head. “I know.”
Nick eyed her once again and Maria met his gaze, holding it until he inclined his head. “Very well. Go fix it.”
Maria had never witnessed Clint and Natasha spiral as they had over the loss of Phil. Maria thought that she could help them, that she owed Phil to look after them just as he once looked after her, but just standing in their presence as they mourned made guilt strangle Maria.
They hit rock bottom hard and fast. They became reckless and a danger to themselves and others while out on missions. Maria had to make the decision to give them a warning before deciding to pull them from the field and in turn received shouting as they let out their hurt onto her.
“How can you just stand there like this?” Clint demanded, his eyes rimmed red from crying. “You’re still just an ice bitch, did his death really mean so little to you?”
His words hit her hard just like he wanted. Maria swore she took a step back as she faltered, his words piercing her heart as she did her best not to crumble in front of him.
Clint seemed to realize what he said and the anger drained out of him immediately, leaving behind an upset and tired man. “Maria--”
“Get out.” Maria couldn’t handle his grief on top of her guilt at the moment. She needed space where she could deconstruct herself to shake out all her negative emotions before building herself back up. “Now! That’s an order!”
Clint left and Maria sagged in on herself, reaching up to cover her face. Nick founder her folded in on herself on her couch and stood in front of her.
“I told you,” he said and Maria couldn’t find any words to shoot back. Nick sighed and took a seat next to her, setting a hand on her shoulder. “I know that this isn’t easy.”
“Of course it’s not easy!” Maria burst out, straightening up to glare at him. “I have to pretend that the man who meant so much to those two is dead. I have to watch them grieve and blame themselves and lie to their face each and every day!”
Nick let her yell at him, his hand gently squeezing her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Maria.”
Maria folded in on herself and dug the heels of her palms into her eyes to stifle the tears that threatened to emerge.
“You’re doing your job. And you’re doing it well.” Nick sat with her as she cried and Maria felt a little less weighed down by the burden shared with the man beside her.
Clint drowned in his grief and gets reckless. It came to a point where Maria realized he was getting dangerously depressed and worried about his mental health.
“I’m fine!” Clint snapped at her when she tried to bring up going to see the mental health counselors SHIELD provided.
“You’re not!” Maria replied just as harshly, her fraying patience nearly snapped. “You could have died on your last op!”
“But I didn’t,” Clint retorted as he threw his arms in the air. “Phil wouldn’t have smothered me like this!”
“Well, Phil isn’t here!” Maria towered over him, her fingers curled into fists to stop their shaking and Clint finally faltered as Maria’s words hit him hard. “He’s not here. I’m all you’ve got. You’re going down a dark road, Clint.”
Clint glared at her, his jaw clenched. “Then let me.”
Maria wasn’t sure what hurt more. The fact that he wanted to go down that road or the fact that he thought she would let him.
She wasn’t sure what possessed her to swing but her hand connected with his face and Clint blinked up at her in shock.
“You’re going to get yourself killed!” Maria didn’t recognize her own voice, the grief and guilt strangling her and making her hoarse. “And I can’t sit by and let you do that to yourself. Don’t make me lose another friend, Clint. Don’t do this to me. Don’t you dare be so fucking selfish.”
Clint’s lower lip wobbled as his frame slumped in on itself. “I’m sorry, Maria,” he whispered, eyes filling with tears. “I don’t know what to do.”
Maria enveloped him in her arms and Clint clung to her like a raft in a stormy sea, sobbing into her shoulder as he shared his grief.
Maria stood like a pillar of strength, just like she always was, and then walked with him down to the counselors when he finished.
Natasha threw herself into mission after mission, coming back bloodied and blank, skipping out on not only the med bay but ignoring Maria’s office to patch herself up, acting like she wasn’t bleeding and raw under her clothes as she stood in front of Maria’s desk and lied to her face about her health to receive a new mission.
It got to the point where Maria didn’t know how to handle a grieving Black Widow and she finally shut her down, denying her more missions.
“Either you sit on that couch and tell me the truth or I will ship you to the med bay to get treated,” Maria threatened. Natasha stared at her, challenging her to do it, and Maria does. She moved to march Natasha right toward the med bay and when the woman realized she was serious she sank into the couch.
“Show me.” Maria stood in front of the couch, staring down at Natasha as the Widow pointedly avoided her gaze. “Strip.”
Natasha jerked, her head whipping up to look at Maria, confusion clouding the stubborn defiance as fear slowly bled into her eyes.
“If I cannot trust you not to lie to me about your health, if I cannot trust you to look after yourself, then I will have to do it myself,” Maria folded her arms, looking down at the redhead. “Just your shirt and pants. I won’t touch you without warning and if you want me to stop then say so but if you leave then you’ll be going right to the med bay.”
Natasha stared at her. “You’re abusing your authority,” she finally said, her voice raspy.
That made Maria pause and take a step back to assess the situation again. She had once told Natasha that if she thought Maria was abusing her authority then she was to tell Phil or Clint. Phil wasn’t there and Clint couldn’t shoulder anymore. “If you think that then we are going to leave to walk to the med bay and I will tell Nick to put you under someone else’s care.”
“No!” Natasha grit her teeth together.
“Then show me!” Maria snapped and Natasha glared at her before yanking her shirt off to reveal the multitude of scrapes and bruises speckled on her torso, exposing the damage she had been doing to herself.
Maria neared to get a better look, crouching in front of her as she inspected the marks. “Have you disinfected, iced, or taken care of these in any way?” She asked, glancing up at Natasha. “And don’t you dare lie to me.”
Natasha slumped in on herself in shame. “No…” She whispered.
Maria sighed and leaned back on her heels. “Okay. Bottoms off, lemme see the rest of the damage.”
Natasha shimmied her pants off and Maria fetched the first aid kit from her desk drawer. She patched Natasha up, forcing herself to detach from the situation, and moved through the motions. Her fingers ghosted along Natasha’s ribs to feel for breaks, instructing her to breathe deeply.
Natasha said not a word, limp and compliant under Maria’s touch as Maria slowly fixed the damage she had done to herself.
When she finished, Maria leaned away and told her to get dressed. “I’m suspending you for the next three days to heal.” She held a hand up when Natasha when to protest. “Take the time to eat and sleep. When you can prove to me that you’re ready, I’ll send you back into the field.”
Natasha ended up eating from Maria’s stash of granola bars and snack cakes before ultimately falling asleep on her couch, absolutely exhausted.
Maria let her head rest on her desk for just a moment and tried to tell herself that things would get better.
Natasha learned just how far she could push Maria before she would crack down. She stopped lying about her injuries and started to spend more time in Maria’s office whenever she was forced to take a day or two to rest. Maria started keeping meal replacement bars and bottles of water in the top drawer of her desk and kept restocking her first aid kit. She bought a knitted blanket and a soft pillow for her couch.
After a particularly rough mission, Natasha sat on her couch with a bottle of water in her grip that she made no move to open.
“The Red Room never taught me how to grieve,” Natasha whispered and Maria looked up in surprise at the sound of her voice. “I can’t stop this ache in my chest no matter what I do.”
Natasha was looking up at Maria, silently begging for a way to fix the grief that gripped her.
Maria couldn’t share what she did to grieve Phil because she can’t mourn a man who wasn’t dead. She bought Natasha a book on how to properly grieve and directed her toward the mental health counselors that she knew Natasha would never see.
The guilt was starting to drown her.
Maria saw Phil for the first time since he was laying dead on the floor and he hugged her so hard that it hurt.
“Nick has been keeping me updated,” he said and Maria felt her carefully composed exterior being chipped away. “How are they doing?”
Maria told him, watching as his face fell and twisted into a familiar guilt she often found splashed on hers.
He gave her tips on what he did when they were having bad days but he didn’t seem to understand just how hard his death hit them.
She couldn’t handle being around Phil more than she had to. She couldn’t keep facing Natasha and Clint each day and lie to their faces as she helped them grieve a man that wasn’t dead. She couldn’t keep lying to Phil that the two were getting better each time he asked about them.
They weren’t.
Clint sought her out on bad nights when he felt that he had to be there to protect her from threats that weren’t there. He wanted to protect her like he failed to protect Phil and Maria let him sit on her couch at night and stare at the door with a bow gripped in his hands. She learned to soothe him and settle their nerves with a little bit of bourbon to take the edge off and found herself reminiscing on better times with him.
Natasha started to appear at random times at night, moving toward Maria’s couch without a word as she picked the blanket up to cocoon herself in and lay down to sleep.
Maria fell asleep on her couch once and awoke to Natasha sitting on the floor by her feet, her head dipped down to rest on her chest as she slept.
Maria wondered if this was how Phil felt having Clint and Natasha’s undevoted loyalty.
She wondered if it was how Nick felt to have hers.
She slowly made progress with the duo, falling into a relatively easy routine as they slowly learned to grieve Phil and take care of themselves.
Without their grief to distract her, Maria found herself falling down a familiar hole that Phil used to pull her out of.
Nick tried. He could see he was weary but he didn’t know what she needed and she didn’t know what to ask for. He told her to take a break for a day, that the world would survive without Deputy Director Maria Hill for twenty-four hours.
Maria had twenty-four hours to spiral and she hit rock bottom.
Clint found her curled up on the floor of her office, a half-drunk bottle of bourbon at her side and tears in her eyes. He tried to ask her what was wrong and she fell apart.
Clint disappeared and for a brief moment, Maria felt a stab of abandonment and rejection. She curled up tighter and let herself cry, not even bothering to cover her face as she gripped her hair, drowning in the guilt that she had let herself stew in.
She hadn’t expected him to return with Natasha at his side. She tried to hide her tears but they don’t let her, gently pulling her upright to sit on the couch. Maria felt her knitted blanket be tugged around her shoulders as one of the water bottles from her drawer is pressed against her lips and she was sandwiched between two warm bodies.
Maria was a human and humans were flawed. She was just so tired of wading through her guilt.
“Let it go, Ria. We’ve got you,” Clint whispered into her ear.
Maria couldn’t quite remember everything about that night. It was a haze of warmth and kindness, hands stroking her hair out of her face and whispering reassurances in her ear. Maria dozed between bouts of hushed whispers between the two, sometimes picking up on her name but unable to pinpoint what exactly they were saying.
They held her close and let her sleep on them. Maria almost forgot her guilt and grief there settled between them, the act of being cared for so foreign but so achingly comforting.
She awoke in the morning to Nick barreling into her office, causing her to jolt awake. He merely paused at the sight of her, nestled between Natasha and Clint who had also fallen asleep.
“Are you still drunk?” He demanded as Maria rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“No sir,” she mumbled, not even wondering how he knew she had been drinking. “Just hungover.”
“Good. Your ass with me,” he ordered and turned on his foot. Maria doesn’t think twice about following him, shedding the blanket that had been so carefully tucked around her and leaving all her anger and fear back with Natasha and Clint to coddle.
Maria peered down at the cherry tomatoes on her tray. She spears one on her fork and stared at it before she popped it into her mouth, biting down and letting the seedy inside flood her mouth. The taste she hated so much coated her tongue and she felt just a little bit like it was punishment.
Clint stole the rest of her cherry tomatoes and Maria wondered if Phil ever told him.
She gave him her sealed fruit cup.
Time moved on.
Maria finally started to get a hang of the whole “keeping Natasha and Clint alive” thing. Her chest didn’t ache quite so much when she would bump into Phil and he would smile and ask for an update.
Things moved forward. Maria worked harder. She kept more secrets. She lied.
She let herself get close with Clint and Natasha. She let herself see just why Phil welcomed them under his arms. She let herself get softer around the edges just for them.
She learned to read them and their needs, anticipating their rough days and when they were likely to need her more than her other work.
It wasn’t until Clint came to sit with her when she was coming down with a migraine, a cold pack already in his hand, that she learned they were starting to learn to read her too.
When Nick Fury faked his death some odd while later, Maria knew that things were going to fall apart quickly.
He had spoken at length about faking his death to her and she knew the protocols to put into place, but as she stood there and watched as he coded on the table, the medication in his system slowing his heart rate dangerously as he went into cardiac arrest, Maria wished that it wasn’t necessary.
Natasha stood beside her and Maria watched as her face shuttered when his death was called. Maria tried to move a hand to set on her should but couldn’t find it within her to do so.
She knew what she was doing. She knew that if Natasha ever found out then she was going to cut ties and run.
The moment that it was okay, when his state of being could be revealed, Maria tried to sink into the shadows as Natasha stared at him, betrayal filling her gaze that slowly bled out into a disappointed expectancy.
SHIELD fell to pieces to expose the corruption and many of the secrets that Maria kept for them.
“I am angry with you,” Natasha muttered to her as they started ducking underground to keep themselves safe with the release of the files. Maria glanced at her, her heart thudding in her chest, as Natasha continued. “I am angry with you, but I don’t blame you.”
Maria couldn’t hold in the sigh of relief that escaped her lips and Natasha leaned against her side for a few moments, just enough to silently reassure Maria that she knew and she understood.
Except she didn’t understand. She could never understand and Maria would wait until her last dying breath to ensure that.
With the fall of SHIELD, Tony Stark came swooping out of nowhere to scoop her up and offer her sanctuary within Stark Industries. He gave Maria a stable job, an apartment out of the light, and security to keep her safe.
Maria could only theorize why he did it, god knows why Tony Stark does anything.
But she would wake in the middle of the night as Clint Barton or Natasha Romanoff would slide open her window to crawl inside her apartment because they needed her.
Maria knew it was because she was their only option. If they knew about Phil, they’d be pushing his window open and sliding through to bother him.
She sometimes wondered if she should kick them out, to tell them that them breaking and entering into her home isn’t healthy and that she isn’t running a bed and breakfast for ex-SHIELD agents.
Instead, she makes them copies of her key and tells them to use the front door like an actual adult.
While SHIELD was slowly being rebuilt in the background, Maria’s multitudes of secrets finally caught up with her and Hydra popped up on her radar, evading her notice until it was too late.
They shot her two times in her apartment right through the window that her two favorite ex-agents liked to crawl through. Maria hit the ground, digging her fingers into the carpet as she tried to swallow down the gasping that escaped her lips as the pain seared through her abdomen.
She tried to roll over to push herself to her feet but blood pooled steadily on the floor beneath her and made her hands slippery.
She lay on the ground until a set of boots filled her vision and for a moment Maria thought they had come to finish the job off.
“Open your mouth.”
Maria peered up through blurry vision at Nick as he crouched beside her, gently rolling her onto her back. She barely thinks twice before she dutifully opened her mouth to let Nick drop a chalky white pill between her lips.
Nick stared down at her, his eyes softer than she had ever seen as he brushed a few bloodied strands of hair out of her face. “I’m sorry, Maria.”
Maria inhaled sharply twice before nodding. “It’s okay.” She knew what she was getting into the moment she accepted the Deputy Director’s position.
She felt her heart rate gradually slow and let herself start to sink into the darkness when Nick encouraged her not to resist it.
She felt him slowly gather her up in his arms, the pain in her abdomen fading to a frightening numbness. The door slammed open as someone quickly approached and through muted ringing in her ears, Maria listened to Natasha screaming.
Any words spoken after that sounded underwater and far away as Maria sank into the darkness further and further, slipping away even if she wanted to stay.
Maria woke up feeling cold, bright lights immediately assaulting her vision and the scent of something sterile assaulting her nostrils.
She tried to sit up, realizing quickly what a mistake that was when there was a tugging pain in her abdomen.
“Don’t sit up,” Phil suddenly appeared in her vision. “You’re okay. Lay back. It’s just me.”
Maria let him push her back and carefully looked around the room. “Fill me in.”
Phil poured a glass of water, moving it toward her lips for her to take a few sips.
Maria did, taking a second to enjoy the moisture in her mouth before she tried again. “Phil, tell me what happened.”
Phil sighed, sitting on the edge of her bed and taking her hand. She knew without him saying it but she wanted to hear it out loud.
“Congrats, Maria. You successfully faked your own death,” the warmth was missing from his tone, his eyes sad and apologetic. “You have a pretty nice headstone and all.”
“And the strays?” Maria managed to get out, her emotions choking her.
“Not handling it well,” he mumbled sadly.
Maria slowly nodded her head before pulling her hand away from his. “I need a moment please.”
Phil stood up and left, his shoulders slumped as Maria stared at the ceiling.
“When?” She croaked out to Nick upon seeing him, demanding to know that things would be okay.
“Forever,” he grunted out, his eyes soft as he took stock of her. “I’m glad you’re okay, Maria.”
Maria thought of Clint and Natasha, of the fact that she wouldn’t be able to tell them that she was alive and safe.
She wanted to yell. She wanted to scream that she had kept every one of his secrets, that she had lied to her friends and had taken every hit and insult while she worked tirelessly to do exactly as he had asked of her.
She was loyal to him, she was his most trusted, but at what cost?
“It’s for everybody’s safety,” Nick continued and Maria glared at the ceiling. “You knew what you were signing up for all those years ago. I told you that you may have to do this someday.”
“I know.” Maria remembered his words but that was when she was a different person. That was before Clint and Natasha became more than just something of Phil’s to protect, back before she had people relying on her, who opened themselves up and trusted her with their vulnerable insides.
He left her side to let her think and think Maria did.
“Do you want to know?” Nick asked as Maria stood by his side once again for the first time since gaining two new holes in her body.
Maria considered Nick’s offer. He had eyes and ears everywhere, two specifically on a duo that Maria had grown fond of. It was a tentative peace offering he was extending.
“No.” Maria took a few seconds to reply because she had to think about whether she wanted an update on how Clint and Natasha were doing. “It’s better if I don’t.”
Because if Maria knew how bad things were getting, if she saw Clint’s mental health slipping or Natasha’s declining lack of care for herself, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to stay away.
Nick inclined his head and Maria took a deep breath.
Long ago Maria had once resolved not to let herself have friends because she knew that she’d never be able to keep them. It was a curse that had been placed upon her at birth. But she had let herself get fooled for once, let herself fall into the gentle safety that having friends provided.
Maria Hill doesn’t have friends anymore. Her relationships fractured upon her death, filled with nothing but lies and deceit.
She doesn’t have friends, she cannot let herself, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want them.