This came out of nowhere.


Act seven – into the light

Her drawing skill improves a little these days because she's been taking classes and no, that is not because Coulson teased her about it. She doesn't need his approval to be able to do her work. She outranks him, for God's sake.

(Okay, maybe her pride hurts a little, and she refuses to admit that she, Maria Hill, has a weakness. Plus, drawing skills may come in handy for the next assignment. Undercover, or something. Whatever. She has a problem and she's going to fix it.

And that was a porcupine. It was not a poop.)

"This is great," says Steve, smiling. She turns around and sees him standing next to her, checking out her "artwork". She calls it awful shit; he calls it artwork. Anyway. "The tone is considerably lighter this time. Good effort. You've been practicing a lot, I suppose?"

"I've been finding time to practice." She admits reluctantly. "I might have doodled on a mission report that was supposed to submit to Director Fury."

"What was his reaction?" he manages to muffle a laugh, but his expression betrays him anyway.

She tries not to roll her eyes. "Of course I got rid of it before submitting. Do you think I would have made that kind of mistake?"

"No, I don't think you would." He grins.

(Well, well. That is technically not true. She always has the habit of doodling, even when her drawing was literally shit. The only time she forgot to erase the evidence of her drawing was the one time she doodled on Ward's file, but she had made Coulson not to tell anyone. As for Ward… She doesn't think he would tell anyone.)

"When can I learn to draw other stuff? Like, you know, something other than pens and paperclips." She says, showing him her work. "I think I'm quite ready for anything other than that."

He chuckles. "I think you're too anxious to prove someone wrong." When she looks at him he goes, "What? I may not be as smart as Bruce or Tony, but I'm not dumb, you know."

"Of course I know," she says wryly. "I made it a little obvious, I think."

"You never do subtle," he agrees, laughing slightly. "So who is it you want to show off your skills to?"

"I wasn't planning on showing off!" she says indignantly, reaching for the cushions on the sofa and throwing at him. He ducks, laughing like she just cracked a joke. "Stephen Grant Rogers, I'm warning you— I know where you live. I've got your medical record and insurance. I even have your social security number. One wrong move and I'll make your life miserable."

"May I know what kind of move will be considered as a 'wrong move'?" he said, half-smiling.

"Oh, don't smile at me like that," she finds herself giggling at him, which is weird because she can't quite remember when was the last time she had so much fun with someone. Was it the time where she camped in Semenyik with Barton? Or was it Jake, when they broke the rules, sneaking out of the Academy together?

Jake…

Is it wrong to forget him and to enjoy the company of another man? Is it okay to be happy when he's no longer around? She finds herself asking many questions in her head but never get an answer for any of them.

For a long time, she doesn't utter a word, and Steve must have sensed something wrong because the moment she realizes she had trailed off just now, he is already on the sofa. No, they are on the sofa together. He has placed his jacket on her, because she doesn't remember putting it on.

"I don't understand. Why am I—"

"It's okay. I'm here, Maria. I'm here." He says quickly. "Can I— No, I mean, should I— Should I touch you?"

She doesn't speak, but she gives him a nod.

"Okay." he says softly, slowly and carefully spreading his arms around her. "If you don't feel like doing this anymore, just—just tell me. I won't do anything— No, I mean, I—"

She rests her chin on his broad shoulder, breathing more easily than she did just now. She feels him relaxed a little, hands brushing her back gently.

"Jake," she says finally. "God, Jake... I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he says softly, gently sliding his hand to her waist to hold her closer. "I'm here with you, Ria."

"You're not real, are you?" She shakes her head, trying to get him out of her head. Jake's dead. He's not here. He cannot be here. "How can you possibly… I left you there… I didn't even try…"

"I'll never leave you in the dark, Maria."

Something stirs inside her. She pulls back, staring at him , trying to find something and then, slowly, she leans in to kiss him.

.

Morning light creeps into the living room from the wide open window. She looks around. Steve isn't around. She is convinced that she had imagined what happened last night until she smells… well, food.

Classic Steve.

She takes a deep breath, walking to the kitchen slowly with her tablet in hand.

"Morning." he says pleasantly. His smile is polite. "What do you want to eat for breakfast?"

She opens her mouth, wanting to ask him to leave but hesitates when she realizes she is indeed very hungry. She sighs, putting her tablet on the dining table (there is already a small mountain of toasts over there) and then returns to the kitchen.

"Scrambled eggs." She says. "I'm starting to wonder if you're real, soldier."

"Why?" A laugh escapes his mouth as he opens her fridge to look for eggs. "Because I'm making breakfast?"

"Because you stayed despite what happened last night."

"Oh, that." he says, closing the door of the fridge. "It's nothing, really."

His ears are quickly turning red. For some reasons Maria thinks it's best if she doesn't ask why. There are answers that she can't afford to give or have.

"Where did you sleep last night?" she asks, pouring herself a cup of coffee from the coffee machine. "Couch or bed?"

"Couch."

"You must be the only person survived staying with me for more than a couple of hours." She notes his expression and raises her brows. "What? You work with the STRIKE. You know what they call me behind my back."

"I don't care about that," he argues. "You don't learn about a person from someone else's comment."

"Okay then," she says, finishing her coffee before putting it down and crossing her arms across her chest. "What have you learnt about me?"

"You don't trust easily." He says, shifting his focus to the eggs instead. She watches him beating eggs with seasonings. "But when you decide to trust someone, you trust them unconditionally. The way you trust Natasha and Clint. Occasionally Jasper, but for some reasons you're wary of him"

He cuts a small piece of butter and put it into the heated pan. As the butter melts, he pours the egg mixture. Soon, she can smell the cooked eggs in the air and suddenly, her mouth waters.

"You worry your way through things. You make sure there is always a backup plan, sometimes more, because you're worried that things may go south. You will get up in the middle of the night to make final changes for extraction protocols because you want to get every crew back," he says without looking at her, removing the eggs from the pan. "You don't want to carry any more cross than you already have."

Her hand reaching for the plates in the cupboard stops in mid air, but only for the briefest moment. She keeps her expression neutral, then she takes the plates out and bring them to him.

"Do I want to know how you know about me getting up in the middle of the night?"

"I didn't—" His face flusters. "I was just guessing."

"Don't worry. I'm joking. I do that sometimes." Somehow she manages to force a smile on her face. "I'm sorry about what happened last night. I shouldn't do that. That was… unprofessional."

"It's okay." He says, and Maria notices even his ears have turned red by now. You needed… comfort."

Looking at Steve's flustered face, it strikes Maria that it might be his first kiss in like, seventy years. Feeling heat rising in her cheeks, she immediately looks away.

"It won't happen again, I promise." God, this is awkward. "I won't bother you if it happens again."

She finishes the rest of her sentence in whispers, but apparently his enhanced hearing skill has helped him to pick up every word she just said because a moment later, when they finish eating he speaks casually, like the matter simply crosses his mind for no reason.

"I told you about my dreams. You remember?" He says, studying her expression. "You can tell me yours if you want to."

She nods, realizing this conversation is very much planned. He has probably been rehearsing it hours before she woke up.

"I promise I won't tell anyone." He says, and she purses her lips. Of course she knows he wouldn't tell anyone. He's a good listener and knows when to keep his mouth shut. But she lets him continue. "If I have assumed too much—"

"I joined SHIELD when I was twenty three," she interjects. "They recruited me from Armed Force, assigned me to Agent Victoria Hand as my mentor. She's in charge of The Hub."

She doesn't know why he, out of all people, makes her want to share. Even when Romanoff dragged her out of the pub because she'd been drinking for weeks, she didn't tell her anything.

"I think I've heard of her," Steve frowns a little. "Tall, wearing glasses, doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"That's her," she nods. "I was a fast learner. I was very good at my job. Agent Hand liked me. Gave me a lot of opportunity. I was sent in the field and worked with handlers occasionally. My team had the highest success rate. We were good.

"SHIELD received intel from reliable sources that a group of local terrorists had taken forty children as hostage in Bogota. We flew there, worked with the local police and realized they had bombs and grenades to blow off the entire compound. We called the Hub. They sent backup, but they were never going to make it in time. The terrorists were going to blow the building any second. And then—" She releases the breath she doesn't know she is holding. "And then, I made the wrong call."

"You didn't wait for the backup."

"No," she corrects him. "He didn't wait." Damn. She realizes when he doesn't look surprised. Romanoff must have told him. She makes a mental note to assign the upcoming CPH4 mission to Romanoff and continues. "I was too late to stop him. He went in alone, freed all those children and killed a few terrorists. But then… but then the bomb went off when he was still inside. And I did nothing to save him. I left him there to die."

His eyes widen, but he says, after giving it a thought. "It wasn't your fault. Yes, losing one man was—is terrible, but losing the whole team is worse. You did what was right."

She wants to rebuke, but there is nothing she can say.

"Is that why you said you're not nice?" he asks, pauses for a while and then he continues. "Sirius once told Harry this, and now I want to say the same thing to you: You're not a bad person. You're a good person who bad things have happened to. The world isn't spilt into good people and villains, you know."

"There are grey areas."

"Exactly. It's never easy to do what's right, or to let go of the past and move on." He continues. "Sometimes I still dream of Buck and Peggy. Sometimes I get upset when I can't even send a text. I get angry. I get edgy. Sometimes we are overwhelmed by the darkness inside us, but it's okay as long as we know there's light inside us too."

She takes a minute to let the message sink in.

Light and darkness.

After spending almost a decade in SHIELD making hard decisions, she can no longer differentiate which part she is acting on. But she thinks he can tell the difference. He's a good man. He always has been.

"If there are both darkness and light inside us, I figure you must be the light, Steve." She pauses, giving him a tiny smile. "The light of all lights."


This chapter is very much inspired by Bram Stroker's Dracula & JK Rowling's Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix.

Thank you for reading.