I'll Be There For You

5

"Is it me or you are particularly worked up?" Steve asked as he dodged another punch. Maria took a step back to escape the upcoming low kick and frowned.

"Worked up?" she repeated while taking a few seconds to evaluate her success rate with a high kick. "Why?"

"You are a bit meaner that last time. Didn't realize that-" he quickly crouched to evade her foot. "-breaking up with your boyfriend hurt you that much."

"Not likely." She shot back, taking advantage of him being down to push him on the sparing mat. Steve somehow managed to avoid her attack and sprung forwards, aiming for the stomach. "We haven't been dating long enough to…" she jumped on the side and in a dirty move tripped him by extending her leg. Once he realized he was falling, Steve caught the closest thing at hand to stop him from going down –her shirt. Of course, Maria realized it a fraction of a second too late, and didn't catch her balance fast enough. She fell forwards soon after him along with a loud 'craaaaaack'.

Of course, she had to fall on Steve. And of course, he had to tear her shirt in the right place. Sure enough; when the young man opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of her sports bra and lovely neckli…His breath got caught in his throat; was it a scar barring her cleavage? A pinkish line as long as his hand…but before he could analyze it longer, Maria got back on track, swore when she realized what he was staring and sat straight, catching the torn pangs of her top to patch them up in a makeshift knot. It hid her scar, but exposed her smooth stomach. Steve suddenly had the urge to touch the skin, to see if it felt as soft as it looked. But he figured, due to her severe glare at him, that he might have other priorities right now.

"Don't ask." She hissed.

"I won't."

"Good."

Only then did they realize she was straddling his hips. Maria stood off him and walked towards the bench where she had left her stuff. While she rehydrated and wiped the sweat off her face, Steve kept an attentive eye on her. Pushing aside any thought on the scar, he returned to his previous observation: something was bothering her. He had felt it during their sparing and wanted to know more now, if she'd let him.

"What's on your mind?" he asked. She didn't grant him an answer, just started gathering her things; apparently, she deemed this session to be over. "C'mon Maria, tell me."

The young woman's lips formed a thin line as she stared at him sideways. Once again, the calculating gaze appeared on her face as she seemed to consider telling him. That was a first step, he figured. Better than knowing she wouldn't tell him anything at all.

"My father's funeral is tomorrow." She eventually said. "I thought I wouldn't be going but…I don't know anymore."

Steve studied the blankness in her eyes and spoke softly:

"You have no reason to go there."

"I know." Tensed tone; the decision was truly disturbing her. Steve took a second to consider when he had started to recognize her tells.

"Why would you want to go?" she sighed heavily.

"Set my scores with him, I guess? Be a masochist and check out how many people liked him? Catch a glimpse of the half-brothers I'll probably never see again?" she snorted at the last one. "My uncle told me they have no idea I exist. The bastard cut me completely off his life."

"Would you feel better if I went with you?"

She narrowed her eyes, immediately suspicious.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I recall a couple of years ago, that a girl who had no real affection for me still showed up at my mother's funeral to help me realize that my mother had died because of a drunk driver, not because I had call her to pick me up. That I had done the right thing –calling her because I was too drunk to drive, even though the ending sucked." Maria rolled her eyes, but her ears turned pink. Cute, Steve thought inwardly; although he knew she'd probably skin him for thinking her cute anyway. "If you need someone to be there for you, I will."

"So this is your way of repaying what you think is a debt towards me?" she replied, tilting her head on the side. Her words irritated Steve.

"Can't you just take an offer for what it is? I was asking as a friend. Will you stop insinuating I'm acting under some motivation?"

"Everyone acts under motivation" she retorted. "You are no different."

"I don't!" Steve protested.

"You want to feel better about me. You want to do something to compensate for what I did you to." Her sharp eyes never left his, daring him to object. "Don't tell me you first came at me out of goodness of heart. If I hadn't come to your mother's funeral, you wouldn't have given shit about me."

"Well it's not like you made it easy to talk to you" he replied dryly. "You keep pushing the others away like you are scared of them coming too close!"

"I am not scared!"

"Sure, you are Maria Hill, the Ice Queen, you aren't scared or phased by anything. Sometimes I wonder if you have any emotions at all! It's no wonder your boyfriend cheated on you."

Maria froze and Steve wished he could take back his words the moment they left his mouth. The hurt in her eyes hit him like a punch and the wall that built just afterwards that he realized he had lost every brownie point he had earned with her the past two days.

"Don't talk to me again."

It was raining when the coffin was lowered into the ground. The Pater Noster was recited by the attendants. At the first rank, a veiled widow stood straight and head's up. By her side sat two boys wearing black suits and red eyes. There weren't that many people she knew, Maria thought as she surveyed the crowd from the back. The old couple on the right was her former neighbors, the man on the extreme third row, an old friend of her father's –Leo something, the two women next to him were his cousins if her recollections were exact. And so on, she recognized another half-dozen people; the rest she had no idea who they might be. Relatives of her step mother perhaps? Friends he –they had made after she had left.

She crossed her arms and watched the end of the ceremony with an odd feeling of detachment. No part of her was truly sad to see him go; no glint of satisfaction busted either. The anger and frustration were still there, but she hadn't expected them to fade –she had been feeding on these feeling to keep her sane for a while. Honestly, she didn't feel like she was watching her father's burial but a stranger's. And ironically, that's what he had become; a stranger. From her point – a respectable distance away from the burial- she could see the first fist of dirt being thrown, the widow accept condolences, people surrounding the two boys, and then everyone slowly leaving the scene. She thought of offering her own condolences, but what for? The woman probably didn't even know who she was and awkward questions would lead to the awkward answers she had no desire to give. Plus, the rain was doing a nice job of drenching her and she had no desire to catch a cold.0

Maria stepped away from her hiding place and was about to leave when a voice called out to her:

"Hey, you over there, aren't you Peter's first girl? Maria?"

She turned around and recognized the man that had been her father's friend, Leo something. She held his stare and raised an eyebrow, not intending to start a conversation. So he took a few steps closer and went on:

"Yeah, I'm sure you're little Mari. Do you remember me? Leonard Richards, I use to be a good friend of your dad." She didn't answer. "I bought you some play-doh for your sixth birthday and you ate it remember?"

"I do." She replied coolly, remembering indeed that she had been eating that play-doh because her father had forgotten to fill the fridge and feed her, but she wouldn't say that. Leonard smiled awkwardly.

"Yeah well…I'm sorry to see you again under these circumstances. If you need anything…"

Maria was about to reply she actually didn't need nor want anything from him –or from anyone she had known, since she had managed on her own so far, when she noted the presence of someone she definitively did not want to interact with today. Mrs. Hill, the step-mother she had no idea of until recently, had spotted them and was coming forwards, probably intrigued by the presence of a young woman she didn't know at the funeral of her husband.

"Ah, Annabel" Leonard greeted with a sober nod. "How are you holding up?"

The woman had blond hair and bright green eyes. She wasn't especially good-looking, but not an ugly figure either. Maria wondered what had attracted her father there.

"As good as one can, I guess. I'm sorry, I don't believe we have met before" the woman said, turning towards her, politely curious. She seemed gentle, Maria thought, gentle and honest and everything her mother use to be according to her relatives. Perhaps, if her father had not accepted her departure so easily, she felt she could have accepted this woman. Maybe.

"She's Peter's eldest, Maria." Leonard replied for her. "Don't you think she looks exactly like Lily? Except the eyes. All Pet-" The young woman glared at him so sharply he didn't dare open his mouth afterwards. The widow stared at her in surprise –hurtful surprise.

"But I…I thought…" she turned towards the man and Maria, eyes seeking for answers. "I thought his daughter died years ago in a car accident." Something clenched in her chest and Maria had to dig her nails deep into her palm to keep her cool. Of course he'd say something like that. "He never spoke of you, I thought he was hurting…" The widow added, upset and genuinely intrigued at the same time. "How come?"

The young woman's eyes lingered on the dump underneath which her father laid. Soon a tombstone would cover it and it would be the end of it for Peter Hill. The others would have to live through his absence and suffer from it in different manners. The woman standing before her had nothing to do with her current predicament, so she wouldn't take out her inner rage on her.

"It doesn't matter." Maria cut dryly, taking a step back. The faint scar over her cleavage burned a little, a faint reminder of the day he almost killed her. "I'm sorry for your loss." She last said before turning heels and walking away. She ignored the calls of the widow, didn't turn back to see if their exchanged had caused any commotion among the remaining people. She just needed to get out. It wasn't until she reached the road that she noted that someone had decided to join the party.

"Do I want to know why you're here?"

Steve stood there, dressed in a black suit. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I thought you'd need a chauffeur to drive you back. Clint told me your car broke down a few days ago."

Clint, again. Maria fought the urge to roll her eyes and asked him instead:

"You knew I'd come." No question in her tone, just a statement. "Even though I can't feel anything?"

"I shouldn't have said that." He replied, his whole body-language and eyes apologetic. "It's just your way of coping with things and it was wrong of me. I out of everyone should have known better."

Maria's lips tightened; she could lash out at him, tell him she didn't give a damn about his apologies, to never approach her again –and she knew he would. But then, he wasn't exactly wrong either. And if she knew one thing about Steve Rogers, it was that he never offered an apology without meaning it.

"I'm not good at displaying emotions." She eventually muttered, avoiding his eyes.

"Is it your own way of saying you're sorry too?"

In spite of herself, a small smile curved its way over her face. His candid words, gentlemanly manners were the perfect reminder why she had crushed on him during high-school. Funny how his presence made her feel lighter. Maybe her crush hadn't completely wavered after all.

"And that's the best you'll get out of me." She replied nonchalantly. Steve stared at her warily, wondering how he should take that statement. That made Maria grin slightly.

"Oka-ay" he mumbled before adding, almost shyly: "So, are we good?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. He held her stare, and she liked it.

"Fine." She caught over his shoulder the sight of a couple of people in funeral clothes and was suddenly remembered where she was and why. The slight cheering up she had upon seeing Steve evaporated as fast as it had came. "You said you have a car?"

He followed her gaze and understood. No need to stay any longer. He had witnessed from afar the encounter with Mrs. Hill and had seen both women's discomfort.

"Over there."

It wasn't until they were driving away from the cemetery that he heard her whisper 'thank you'.

Sorry, wasn't sure how to end this chapter, and I am a bit late in updating...hope you enjoyed reading this :) One or two chapters left! Let me know what you thought of it ^^