From a Certain Point of View
Chapter I:
Adjusting the cuffs of her coat, Maria watched as Tony's heart was set afloat. It was a small affair for a man as flamboyant as he was. If it were up to her, his sacrifice deserved one final salute from the billions on Earth he had saved and the trillions elsewhere. But for today at least, that honor was reserved only for the few present.
"I must say," the sturdy voice of T'Challa approached her. "I never once considered that he might be the one to save us all in the end."
Maria's fingers rattled in thought, arms bent over the porch railing. "If we could ask him, he'd probably say the same thing."
"Or, he'd say that he knew he would all along." T'Challa's laugh was a deep one as he joined her in overlooking the lawn. "Too quiet, wouldn't you say?"
"For a guy who once built a giant robot suit in a cave with a box of scraps? Surprisingly subdued." Maria said, a hint of a wry smile playing on her lips.
T'Challa chuckled. "Perhaps. But it's a different kind of quiet now, isn't it?"
Maria nodded, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the air. The world had shifted on its axis. Gone were the days of worrying about rogue nations or economic meltdowns. Now, they faced threats from beyond the stars, threats that defied comprehension. And with each victory, the cost seemed to climb a little higher.
"Reminds me of something that Natasha told me once," Maria said as the conversations in front of them began to die down. "That nothing lasts forever."
T'Challa turned to her, his gaze seemingly filled with understanding. "And what did you say back?"
"That trouble, no matter who wins or loses, still comes around."
"Trouble. That sounds like Natasha." The king remarked, sadness crossing his face.
A flicker of movement caught Maria's eye. Across the lawn, Bruce Banner stood alone, his back hunched, his gaze fixed on the ground. A pang of sympathy shot through Maria.
"You think they'll do something for her?" T'Challa asked, also noticing Banner. "For Natasha as well?"
Maria's head shook once. "She hated these things. Always said if she ever went down, she didn't want any fuss."
T'Challa nodded, lowering his chin.
The ceremony was over now, but nobody had left just yet. Maria watched as T'Challa rejoined his stoic entourage, a burdened king. She shifted, the scratchy wool of her coat doing little to ward off the chill that had settled deep in her bones.
Everywhere she looked, reminders of loss surrounded her.
The wind whispered through the skeletal branches of the trees, their leaves long surrendered to autumn's grip. A year ago, she wouldn't have noticed. Now, the stark contrast between the vibrant life of summer and the stark emptiness of winter mirrored the hollowness she felt inside.
Today, it was the autumn leaves. Tomorrow, it might be the way the water dripped from the faucet, or how cars came to a stop on the street. A sigh escaped her lips, a ragged sound that seemed to echo. How much more could she take? The weight of responsibility, the constant churn of fear and loss, it was as if she were drowning.
A sudden stillness settled over the scene, the murmur of conversation fading away. Maria turned to see Fury materialized beside her, his black trench coat swallowing him whole.
"Rough day," he rumbled, his voice as gruff as ever, but with a hint of something… vulnerability?
Maria nodded, her throat tightening against her will.
"Thought you might be avoiding the after-party crowd," he continued, his single eye flitting across the lawn
"Just needed some air," she finally managed.
They stood in silence for a moment. This wasn't their first funeral, wouldn't be their last. But each one chipped away a little more, leaving behind a hole that no amount of duty could entirely fill.
Fury cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. "Heard you put in your leave of absence."
Maria snorted. "Leave? I haven't had a vacation since the Chitauri invasion. This is more like… forced retirement."
A flicker of something, maybe amusement, crossed Fury's face. "Forced retirement? You? Hill, the world would crumble without you holding it together with duct tape and sarcasm."
For what felt like the first time in forever, Maria allowed herself to laugh. Fury rarely doled out compliments, even backhanded ones. It felt oddly comforting in this strange, grief-stricken world.
"So," she said, her voice regaining some of its usual strength, "what brings the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. to a mourning nobody like me?"
"I'm here to wish you goodbye, Agent Hill." Fury gave her a look as if what he said was the most obvious thing in the world. "You don't think that after all we've been through, the countless hours, missions, I wouldn't say goodbye?"
It took a lot for Maria not to cry right then and there. Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard.
"Well… thank you," Maria paused, composing herself. "for everything."
"The honor was all mine, Maria." Fury said as he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Looking back ahead, the lawn was empty now, save for the wind blowing over the grass and the sun shining through the trees. Over top, a peaceful silence had bestowed itself upon the property, like a gesture from Mother Nature herself.
"I'm not even sure if leaving is going to fix things for me," Maria admitted. "What I think I really need are a cocktail and a lobotomy."
Fury laughed. "We can do both of those back at headquarters. The doors are always open to your return, you know."
"Stop it. I know you guys can manage well enough without me," Maria showed him a sad smile. "And we're both not getting any younger. You should take some breaks too."
Fury sighed, the weight of the world seemingly pressing down on his shoulders. "I wish I could, Agent Hill. I wish I could."
-Ω-
Maria never expected civilian life to be easy, but the reality was more jarring than she'd anticipated. Five years had passed, and the world had not paused to wait for her.
The initial weeks were a blur of job applications, lukewarm coffee, and the deafening silence of her empty apartment. Her old apartment was gone, replaced by this sterile box filled with hastily-chosen furniture that echoed her every move. The adrenaline-fueled life of chasing threats and unraveling conspiracies had been replaced by the monotonous hum of the refrigerator, and the chirping of a lone bird outside her window.
Desperate to fill the void, Maria tried her hand at various hobbies. Yoga classes left her feeling stiff and awkward, while her attempts at painting resulted in a series of abstract blobs that would make even Pollock scratch his head. Even reading, once a comforting escape, now felt like a chore.
One afternoon, scrolling through job postings, an ad caught her eye: "Assistant Curator - Museum of Natural History." It wasn't exactly saving the world, but the prospect of immersing herself in the natural world, with its intricate patterns and hidden connections, held a certain appeal.
The interview was surprisingly pleasant. The museum director actually seemed intrigued by her.
"You've faced down alien invasions," the museum director exclaimed, scratching their chin. "I'm sure a misplaced dinosaur bone won't phase you."
Maria laughed. It was a world away from S.H.I.E.L.D., but the thought of a new challenge, a chance to learn and perhaps even heal, was a pleasant one.
She got the job. And initially, the museum provided a welcome distraction.
Surrounded by the wonders of nature, Maria found solace in the ordered chaos of exhibits and artifacts. She learned the Latin names of obscure beetles, the migratory patterns of birds, the geological formations that had shaped the planet. Her coworkers were fine enough, nothing out of the ordinary, except for maybe Larry. He was a bit rough around the edges, in the almost-histrionic kind of way. But as the days turned into months, a nagging unease settled in her bones.
The decision to leave S.H.I.E.L.D. had felt right at the time, a necessary escape from the relentless cycle of trauma and loss. But now, in the quiet moments between cataloging specimens and answering visitor questions, doubts gnawed at her. Had she abandoned her purpose, her duty, for a life of mundane normalcy?
The once razor-sharp edges of her mind seemed to dull with routine. She forgot appointments, misplaced keys, stumbled over words that had once flowed effortlessly from her lips. And the world around her continued to shift in unsettling ways. Maria couldn't quite place what made it feel so strange. It was if she were adrift in a sea of change. Like a ghost, haunting the edges of a life she no longer recognized.
Each day became a performance, a carefully constructed facade of normalcy. The spark that had once ignited her every action was gone, replaced by... nothing. The loneliness was suffocating. Maria had always been a solitary creature, but now the solitude felt oppressive, a tangible weight pressing down on her chest. In the depths of the night, when the city outside her window fell silent, she would lie awake, haunted by the ghosts of her past, the faces of those she'd lost, the echoes of battles fought and won, and the gnawing question: what was it all for?
A sudden, piercing shriek ripped through the silence of her apartment. Maria shot up from her couch, her heart pounding. The sound was inhuman, a high-pitched wail that sent chills down her spine. It came again, closer this time, followed by the frantic flutter of wings against glass.
A large raven, its glossy black feathers ruffled and its eyes wide with panic, was trapped outside her window. Its desperate cries echoed in the night.
Maria rose, drawn to the window as if by an unseen force. She flung it open, the cold rain lashing at her face. The raven hesitated, its dark eyes locking onto hers. Then, with a powerful thrust of its wings, it soared into the room, circling above her head before settling on the back of the couch.
Maria's breath caught in her throat.
For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, the only sound the rhythmic drumming of the rain. She reached out a tentative hand, but the raven recoiled, its eyes fixed on hers with an unnerving intensity. Then, as if sensing a shift in her energy, it hopped onto the windowsill, gave a final, piercing cry, and launched itself back into the storm.
Maria watched it vanish into the swirling darkness. With a deep inhale, she shut the window.
Exhale…
The apartment suddenly felt claustrophobic.
Quickly, she pulled on her coat and stepped out into the deluge. The rain-slicked streets shimmered under the streetlights, each puddle a distorted mirror reflecting her own fragmented existence. She stumbled into one, the icy water seeping into her sock with a squelch.
"Ugh." A grimace twisted her lips as she glanced down, catching a glimpse of her hollowed cheeks and haunted eyes.
A flicker of movement then caught her eye—a man with kind, moss-green eyes, offering a silent nod of understanding. For a fleeting moment, their gazes locked. Then, just as quickly, he was gone, swallowed by the anonymous crowd.
Maria shook her head, blinking, her mind already racing back to the mundane. The world snapped back into focus. The crosswalk light turned blue, and she began walking. A passerby clipped her shoulder, and Maria nearly stumbled from the more narrow than usual sidewalk. They tried to apologize, but she dismissed it, her mind too preoccupied with the more pressing concerns of finding a purpose, a semblance of the life she'd once known.
Author's Note:
Hi everybody! Guess what, this story is back, and better than ever! Please give an applause to IDKHowToWritePlzHelp for helping me out in this whole process. Leave us some feedback in the reviews!
1/28/2025: Rewritten.