It's the end of the line, ladies and gents. We've made it.
Five Years Later
A little blonde girl frolicked on a pedestrian bridge, her eyes filled with joy. A little ways back, her redheaded mother and her dark-haired father watched her with fond eyes. A brunette photographer was snapping pictures of the bridge, her eye pressed to the view.
The little girl tripped, and she went down. Her eyes filled with tears as she took in her bloody knees. Her parents, too enamored with the water, didn't notice. The photographer stopped taking pictures and knelt down beside the little girl.
"Are you okay?" the photographer asked. The little girl started to bawl. The photographer looked at the camera in her hand. She sat next to the little girl. "Lean against the sides of the bridge. It's pretty comfortable." she said finally.
The girl sniffled.
"What's your name?" the photographer asked.
"Marie-Grace." the little girl replied sulkily. "I was named after Maria Hill." The photographer looked surprised, but she recovered quickly. Marie-Grace continued to cry. The photographer clicked through her pictures and showed the girl.
"See, look. Here's Central Park, and the Grand Canyon. There's Big Ben, and Vancouver." she said. "There's a picture of the Atlantic Ocean, and a picture of the Russian mountains, and Sokovia, and a picture of me."
"Your pictures are pretty." Marie-Grace sniffed. "And you look a lot like the lady that's in my bedroom. The one in the picture, that daddy says is dead." The photographer blinked.
"I just moved here from London five years ago. I don't think your daddy would have a picture of me." she replied gently. "Do you want to help me take a picture?" Marie-Grace looked down at her bloody knees.
"I dunno. Mommy doesn't want me to talk to strangers. She says that some of them don't like daddy, and they might kidnap me."
"Well, I won't kidnap you. I'll take you back to your parents, alright? Then she won't be worried anymore."
"You take pictures with your left hand." Marie-Grace said abruptly.
"I was in a car accident. A shard of glass cut my right arm very badly, and so I can't use it anymore." the photographer said, her voice getting a little anxious.
"My daddy said that Maria Hill takes pictures with her left hand, too." Marie-Grace said thoughtfully. "She didn't use her right arm, either." The photographer put her camera in her bag and took Marie-Grace's hand.
"Your little girl here fell." the photographer said once she had reached Marie-Grace's parents.
"Thank you for bringing her back." the mother said sincerely. "Sometimes she runs off and we get worried about her. She's an only child, and we can't have any more." The photographer looked sympathetic.
"Daddy, she's a photographer!" Marie-Grace announced.
"Oh, really? Who do you work for?"the father asked.
"National Geographic." the photographer replied crisply. "I moved here from London five years ago."
"Daddy, she takes them with her left hand!" Marie-Grace said persistently. The man looked startled.
"Wow, um. You know, we used to know someone who did that, too." the man said. "I'm Tony Stark. This is my wife, Pepper, and my daughter, Marie-Grace."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Stark." the photographer said. "Maria Hill."
Isn't that a great ending to a (I think) good story?
What a journey this has been. 23 chapters and romance, tragedy, and comic relief. I loved writing this story, as you can see, because this obviously teases the sequel to 'No More Memories'.
Thank you so much to rainingWolf, my beta, and also AtomicPlaty, who has been there since the beginning! I appreciated all your reviews. It helped me get out of writer's block.
-rohanyoshi.
Be prepared for the next story, coming out in about fifteen minutes. :)