What Is and Isn't Mine
Tie a Yellow Ribbon Series - Part 1

He's always associated Maria Hill with quiet, unwavering strength. It's a belief she's only solidified as they've worked together, as he'd adjusted to having her as a point person just as often as he had Fury or Sitwell. But the woman who stands at the end of his hospital bed looks way more shaken than he's used to.

"Did you know I would do it?"

He blinks. That isn't on his list of questions he'd expected her to ask. Then again, he hasn't been expecting her to show up in the first place. "I beg your pardon?"

She huffs, her spine straight even though her knuckles are white on his bedframe. "Did you know I would blow the helicarriers with you on board."

He watches her carefully for another moment. He isn't naive and he isn't stupid. There are two questions wrapped up in her words and only one he's really ready to answer.

"I knew you would make the right decision."

She snorts, her knuckles tightening and releasing on his footboard. "You almost died. Shit, Steve, you're lucky to be alive."

He ignores the shiver her use of his given name sends down his spine. "Soldiers die in battle."

Her face is a mask of frustration, emotion so clear he's honestly surprised. A woman so carefully contained and yet it's one of handful of times he's seen the emotion so clear on her face. "Some soldiers aren't meant to be sacrificed."

"Don't," he orders, maybe too harshly, but he can't take the way she seems to be struggling, the way she can't keep still, can't stop fidgeting. "Don't put me on a pedestal I never asked for."

She blows out an exasperated breath – and he refuses to find it adorable, because Maria is not 'adorable' – and watches her finally step around the end of his bed. The dress is new and he finds himself blinking at the sophisticated picture she makes. "You look beautiful."

To his complete and utter surprise she blushes and slides her hands over the skirt in a surprising display of self-consciousness. "I had a job interview."

He swallows and glances away the guilt eating him from the stomach out. "Sorry."

"Steve," she says with a snort. "I agreed." Her eyes are solemn now. "There were problems. We all know that. Even Fury knew that. It all had to go."

The words were irrationally painful and he looks away.

She sighs. "I'm glad you're okay."

He offers her a half smile. "Because there's less paperwork?"

He hates the way her smile didn't reach her eyes. He wonders if he's ever really seen her smile. He wonders if he ever will and finds a piece of his mind almost begging to do it, to make her laugh.

"What now?" he asks almost desperately.

"They've subpoenaed me for the committee hearings. I'm sure Romanoff has mentioned those."

It had been Sam, actually, but Steve nods regardless.

"And someone has to clean up Pierce's mess." There's something in her eyes, a weariness and wariness hidden behind a determination he is well-acquainted with. She surprises him when she bends down, retrieving a bag that is much to big for him to really believe it's hers, even as she slides it over her shoulder. The card she pulls from one of its many pockets is, however, familiar. "Turns out, job interviews go a lot better when you're already friends with the CEO."

He takes the card, lets his eyes dance over her name and the number beneath.

"When you go after Barnes call me," she says. "I may be able to help."

"Why?"

She flashes him another smile he hates, this one brittle and bitter. "Because sometimes it's nice to have people in your life you know you can trust."

She walks from his room then, doesn't once look back, but he taps the card against his palm as he watches her in those heels. He knows he'll call her because after all they've been through at the very least he wants to count her as a friend.