A/N - this has been sitting on my laptop for over a month now and I just can't seem to be able to finish it. I like to think of my stories as just the beginning of alternative paths to my favorite characters/ships, that's why I mostly write oneshots and I don't try to write neat endings. but this one is breaking me, I can't even think of a half decent way to end it. so I'm giving up and posting just what I have. it doesn't even have a ship? it could be captain hill, it could be black hill if you squint, idk. maybe one day I'll think of something to add here but for now it will be marked as complete bc I have no plans on continuing. it just seems like a waste not sharing what I already wrote tho. anyways, sorry for the mistakes, hope y'all read and enjoy it. xoxo

She killed Captain America.

Worse; she killed Steve Rogers.

Looking at the helicarriers crumbling down on the Triskelion she knew there was no coming back from it. Not for Steve – he didn't sound so alive through the com before the fire, and not even Captain America could have survived this – and not for her.

She'd pressed the button. She'd blown up a national icon. She'd killed a coworker, an ally – maybe even a friend if you squinted hard enough.

For a second it crossed her mind that maybe Fury and Natasha had rescued him, saved him. But she knows better than to hope for the best. She's not that kind of person – optimistic and positive – it was one of the reasons she agreed to this plan; some things are beyond saving. And thanks to her, Steve was probably one of those things.

"Hill! Where's Steve?" Natasha's voice comes through the com, pulling Maria out of her own thoughts. "You got a location on Rogers?"

She had already decided that it was silly to hope they had rescued Steve, but realizing that in fact they hadn't, well it's kinda hard to breathe right now. She tries anyway, taking a deep breath. "Negative," she answers as coolly as she can, this is no place and time to break.

"This place is coming down!" Natasha continues, oblivious to what has happened. "We need to evac and regroup at the safe house!"

Maria takes in her surroundings, the destruction finally reaching her position. "I'll meet you there," she says and prays to a God she doesn't believe in that Steve will be there too.

"Are you saying," Natasha starts with a cool tone that Maria knows too well, had heard too many times, but never directed at her. "That you blew up the helicarriers with Steve still inside?"

They're back in the safe house. Maria's still trying to keep it together while she debriefs Fury, Sam and Natasha on what happened, and the last she heard from Captain America.

"He ordered me to," she's not making excuses. She's not. She's just explaining the situation. She's just…

"Bullshit!" Natasha calls it. "You didn't have to oblige! What were you thinking?"

I was trying to save the world. I was doing what Cap wanted. I was fulfilling my duty. I did what I had to do, what was right.

Those are all answers Maria has and they're all true. And yet she can't voice any of it. She knows she did the right thing, she knows. But it doesn't feel right. Nothing that happened over the last few days felt right and losing Steve… just, no.

"What the hell is your problem?" Natasha insists, losing her cool and showing an anger that would make the Hulk flinch. "There was no way he could escape that and you knew it! You blew everything up knowing that! How could you?"

"He ordered me to," Maria just repeats, and she realizes she's not trying to convince Natasha. She's trying to convince herself.

"Fuck this!" Natasha shouts in her face. "Fuck you!"

"Natasha," Fury calls from behind her, the redhead having moved towards Maria – right up her face – in her rage daze.

"You killed him!" Natasha keeps going, angrily spiting the truth on Maria's face. "You fucking killed Steve! I hope you're happy, you cold hearted bitch!"

"Romanov, that's enough!" Fury says at the same time Sam advances towards the women and grabs Natasha's arm whispering "Come on Nat, let's get you calmed down."

Sam's deliberately avoiding Maria's eyes, and she can't blame him. They barely know each other and killing his best friend is not a point in her favor.

Natasha actually lets Sam move her out of the room, probably using the little sanity she has left to walk away before she kills Maria too.

Maria's not sure she would resist much, she feels pretty defeated.

Fury walks to her and puts a hand on her shoulder, holding a sympathetic gaze.

And that just makes it worse. She doesn't want anyone's sympathy or pity, especially Fury's. He looks at her like he understands and he doesn't. No one does. No one ever will.

She just shrugs off his hand and walks out of the room, knowing it's going to be a long night without any sleeping.

Maria flips through the channels, not really in the mood for watching tv, but she ran out of things to distract herself.

It's been a couple of days since the Triskelion thing and Maria still has trouble sleeping. Images of destruction and flames and Steve's voice in her head haunt her. She hasn't talked to Fury or Natasha or Sam since that night at the safe house. She hasn't talked to anyone, really. But she's following the news and investigations through her secret spy channels (old habits die hard) and knows it's just a matter of time before someone comes for her. She has to think of contingency plan asap, but her troubled mind doesn't exactly cooperate.

There's a knock on her door. Well, that was faster than I anticipated. She stands up and gets her gun, moving slowly towards the door to check who it is.

"I know you're in there, awake and with your gun," Natasha's voice comes through the door before Maria can get to her security feed. "Let me in, I come in peace."

Maria does look at her security feed and the redhead is holding a… bottle of wine? This is still frightening but Maria likes to think that if Natasha was going to kill her she would give the courtesy of not lying about it. So she opens the door and lets the other woman in.

"You look like shit," Natasha says moving past Maria directly into the kitchen. She knows her way around; they've had too many late night talks and drinks there.

"Thanks," Maria says meaning to be sarcastic but coming out a little defensive.

"Seriously, when was the last time you slept?" Natasha keeps going like this isn't unusual at all.

But Maria still remembers quite vividly the last time they spoke, she remembers the rage, the harshness, the fire in the eyes, the "you killed him" and "you cold hearted bitch".

She regards the redhead casually pouring wine for them like the last month never happened. Like they didn't lose their jobs and their careers and their friends (a particular friend in special) and probably each other.

"May I ask what brings you here?" Maria asks, not wanting to sound distrustful but can't helping it.

Natasha pushes a glass of wine towards Maria; when the brunette doesn't even pick it up, the redhead takes a generous sip of her own with an arched eyebrow, as if saying 'go ahead it's not poisoned'. Maria is not impressed.

Natasha sighs and regards the other woman for a moment. "They found him."

Maria's whole body tenses. She doesn't even need to ask who she's talking about, and she wouldn't anyway because her mouth is dry and her voice won't come out. She wants to sip at the wine to see if it helps but she can't quite move yet.

"He was at the shore of the Potomac, unconscious, pretty beat up. Someone must've dragged him there because there's no way he could've swam and got out of the river by himself in that stage," Natasha keeps going, a softer tone that Maria hadn't heard for a long time. "But he's alive."

Maria actually feels faint. She's dizzy and she drops her head on her hands for a moment. She wants to cry, she desperately wants to cry, she's been wanting for days but hadn't allowed herself to. She won't do it now either, but oh god he's alive.

She feels Natasha's hand in her arm and she flinches at the touch. It's nothing personal against the redhead, she's just not used to comforting touches – and Natasha's not used to giving them either so it's awkward both ways.

"I'm sorry," Natasha says ruefully.

"No, it's okay," Maria replies, looking back at her. "It's just…" now she takes the wine and knocks back a generous sip. "I'm still processing… everything."

"I'm sorry for what I said to you, that day at the safe house, after… you know."

Maria dismisses with a shake of her head. "Don't worry about it."

"It never should've happened," the redhead insists. "I was caught up on my own misery and I took it out on you, it wasn't fair."

"But it was," Maria retorts bitterly. "You were right."

"No I wasn't," Natasha says back, and before Maria could say something else, she presses on. "I was lashing out, it wasn't you. I just had reached my breaking point and you happened to be in the line of fire. And I'm sorry because you didn't deserve it and you're my friend and it shouldn't have happened."

Maria remains silent. Because when the Widow calls you a friend, you listen.

"You know, I lost everything that day," Natasha keeps going. "Lost my job, my beliefs, my friends. I worked so hard for an organization; I did my best to make it a better place, safer. I did things I wasn't proud of for it, to keep it running, to keep it clean. I put up with so much shit for that organization and I went through a lot. S.H.I.E.L.D. was everything to me, all I had, and I dedicated my life to it, only to be all thrown away.

And then it hit me that I wasn't the only one. You lost everything that day too. All of this I just said? It serves for you too. We're on the same boat. The difference is that you had to consciously sacrifice one of your friends to save so many other lives. You were already more vulnerable there. It's like we're on the same boat but I have a lifesaver vest and you don't, and what do I do? I kick you out of the boat," she shakes her head, red hair falling on her face. "That's not very nice."

Maria actually laughs at this. And then downs the rest of her wine, because this is just too much.

"I'm sorry," Natasha says again holding Maria's gaze to show that she means it.

Maria opens a small understanding smile. "Me too," she says and reaches to touch Natasha's arm for comfort, to both of them, and this time it isn't so awkward.

"You should visit him," Natasha says after a moment.

Maria sighs and retreats; she's definitely not ready for this.

Natasha senses it. "I won't insist or try to convince you or anything. I'm just saying, it will give you closure and you definitely need to sleep again, you really look like shit's biggest crap."

"You sure know how to woo a lady," Maria drawls sarcastically while pouring more wine.

"It'll give him closure too," Natasha adds, ignoring her. "He's asked about you. I think he doesn't want to lose anyone else and I'm sure you don't want that either so, just go see him. If it's too much, get out. He'll understand."

Maria doesn't say anything, still half in a daze, half on fire.

Natasha sighs and lets it go. "Fine, let's just drink."

And drink they do.

She stands outside his room for a minute, contemplating for the 100th time if she can do this.

After Natasha's visit a couple of days ago it feels like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. She still had a nightmare, but at least she was sleeping again. She was able to go back to her life, or better yet, start rebuilding her life.

Something was out of place though, and she knew what it was. She needed closure – as Natasha brilliantly put it – she needed to see him, make sure that he's really okay, that she hadn't in fact killed him. She needed to get this behind her for good, and the only way to do it was to confront him about it.

But now, knowing there's just a few feet between them, she doesn't know if she's ready to do this. What is she even supposed to do? Apologize for blowing him up? Yell at him for putting her in that position? Pretend nothing happened and just casually make small talk? Ugh. Sometimes she wishes she was as callous as people perceive her because feelings are so frustrating.

She takes a deep breath and peeks into the room. He's lying there, with his eyes closed. Most of the bruises already faded, the fast healing turning the weeks of recovery into days. He looks peaceful, and it's a rare look on his face. He's always nice and there's this natural angelic quality to his face. But there's also something tormented about him, most people don't pick up but she knows how to see things no one else does, she's very good at reading people. And no one knows more about tormented souls than Maria Hill.

"You know it's rude to stare," Steve says with a soft voice, barely moving from his position.

Maria is startled but she keeps it together. "I didn't know you were awake."

"So it's okay to watch me when I'm sleeping?" he jokes, but then he frowns slightly as if remembering something that haunts him.

Tormented souls. Too many ghosts. The familiarity makes Maria shiver.

"I was just passing by. I have an appointment," she clarifies.

"Oh," it's all he says, turning to look at her.

A few seconds of awkward silence pass.

Get it together, Hill. She steps forward; she has to at least say something to him. "I just wanted to check in with you, know how you're doing."

His lips turn up slightly in an almost invisible to the naked eye smile. "I'm good."

She raises a skeptical eyebrow.

"Really, I'm good," he insists. "I have been worse, trust me."

She regards him for awhile, neither of them saying anything.

"Thank you," she breaks the silence.

Steve frowns. "What for?"

"For not dying," she explains, voice barely above a whisper. "It would be very hard to live with myself knowing that I killed Captain America."

He tilts his head, his eyes soft holding her gaze. "My death wouldn't be on you."

"I pushed the button."

"I told you to."

"But it was my call," she says, laying down the demons that have been haunting her since that day. "I didn't have to listen to you. I could have worked something out, coming up with an option…"

"There was no option, we both know it. You made the right call," he says patiently and it's just his good hearted nature but Maria feels like she's being patronized.

"Don't pat me in the back for doing something bad, especially since you're the one who almost died because of it," she says testily.

"I'm not. That's not what this is about," Steve explains, getting exasperated himself. "You've been there before, in that kind of situation when you have to make big decisions in a split second, you don't get as high as you did in an organization like S.H.I.E.L.D. without going through that. You know what to do, how to handle it. I'm glad it was you up there, I trust you."

I trust you. This keeps ringing in her head and she's unable to say anything. So Steve keeps going.

"You saved millions of people. It had a price, of course, but it always does," he says with resolution, like he needs her to understand. "You made the right call, and you know that."

"Yeah," she sighs, giving up on contradicting him. Then after a second she adds "I just… I didn't want to kill you."

"I know," he says back with a slightly mirthful smile. "Who would want to kill a national icon? Vengeful crazy fans are dangerous."

She huffs. "I could've handled them," she jokes, before sobering up again. "But I didn't want to kill you, Steve Rogers. You're an okay guy and we need..." she pauses and takes a deep breath. "We need you."

Steve regards her for a while with an expressionless face. It's so rare for Maria to not figure out what he's thinking that she's a little edgy by his blank stare.

"You wanna know another reason why I don't hold a grudge against you for what happened?" he starts, and when she nods he looks away to the ceiling. "I was so ready to die that day. And I wish I could say it was just because of the greater good and saving the lives of millions – and it's partially true, I'd sacrifice myself for the people, I've done it before. But it's not just that, and it's not as heroic and selfless as one would think. I was ready to die because I felt like I didn't have anything to live for. I was going through a major identity crises, and having just found out my best friend was alive and brainwashed and a killer for the organization he helped me bring down – or so we thought – seventy years ago, it was all just too much."

Maria stares at him for a second, a little thrown off by the admission. "You… wanted to die?"

"Not so much as wanted but not really cared. I didn't actively try to get killed, I just stopped fighting," he explains, still looking away; not ashamed, just pensive. "I was tired and I just couldn't anymore, not against Bucky. And that's how I ended up in the bottom of the Potomac."

"But you came back."

"I was brought back, by Bucky."

"It was really him?"

"Had to be," he shrugs. "And that gave me hope. He remembered something, I could see it in his eyes just before I fell in the river. And he saved me."

Maria nods even though he's not looking at her. She's just processing the conversation. "So you don't want to die anymore?"

"Not for the foreseeable future, no," he chuckles, turning back to her. "Waking up here, with the knowledge that Bucky saved my life, and with Sam by my side and knowing that Natasha and you and even Nick are out there, it gave me a new perspective. It's not over yet, on the contrary, it's just the beginning."

"That's good to hear," Maria smiles, genuinely happy for him.

They stay a moment like this, just smiling at each other, just glad the other made it through.

"Speaking of new beginnings, what's next for you?" he breaks the silence.

"I actually have a job interview in an hour and I really should be heading there," Maria replies, checking her watch.

"What secret organization we're joining now?" he teases her with that handsome smirk.

She rolls her eyes, but doesn't hide her amusement. "Not secret at all," she replies. "Stark Industries."

Steve's eyebrows shoot to his hairline. "You're gonna work for Stark?"

"Technically I'm gonna work for Pepper, which is actually fine."

He nods, agreeing with her. "There are perks to the job I guess," he concedes. "Salary must be so much better."

"Also the best legal department in the world, and I need that very much right now," she adds with a humorless chuckle.

Steve frowns. "Are you in trouble?"

"Well, the government needs someone to take the fault for the S.H.I.E.L.D. fiasco," she shrugs, trying for noncommittally. "Pierce's dead, Fury's dead, Sitwell's dead, so they're going after the next best thing."

"And that's you," it's not a question, more like a realization.

Maria nods. "I was Deputy Director for years and I'm a woman. Easy target."

His frown deepens. "Actually the reasons you just listed make you the very opposite of an easy target," he says and it warms her heart because he means it.

She tries not to be gushy about it. "I agree but the government is dumb."

"Probably because it's mostly made by men," Steve points out.

This time she doesn't fight the smile that creeps on her face. "You're a smart guy, Cap. You keep that up and you'll go places."

He just laughs and they share another moment of comfortable silence.

"I really should get going," she says, not really wanting to go now that he had brought peace back to her heart and they were having a nice talk.

"Of course," he says, looking a little disappointed himself. "Good luck with the interview."

"Thanks," she says. She pauses for a moment and jokingly adds "You know, Stark will probably call you for recommendations…" she trails off and gives him a pointed look.

He smirks. "Tell you what, you come visit me again tomorrow with real coffee and not this crap they have here, and I'll put in a good word for you with Stark."

"You got yourself a deal, Captain."

"Steve," he says with a soft tone. "I like it when you call me Steve."

She feels her cheeks warm and prays that she's not blushing like a goddamn schoolgirl. "Okay, Steve," she says with the most put together voice she can. "See you tomorrow."

She's rewarded with his cutest boyish smile. "See ya, Maria."