Rain
Her apartment was scarce, if she didn’t know better (if she didn’t pay the rent) Maria Hill would have sworn it was nothing more than a safe house. The walls lacked art and color, the bookshelves were nearly empty, and the sheets on her twin bed were a sad shade of green. It was this sad bed that she made her way over to on this particular night.
She sat on the barely soft surface and kicked off her boots, the day had been long and her mind was still rifling through items on her everlasting “To-Do List”. The clattering of the boots echoed in the room as they hit the floor below the bed. Maria leaned against the wall behind her for just a moment before she realized she would fall asleep if she rested like that any longer. She stood up and organized the boots properly at the end of her bed, in case they needed to be thrown on in the middle of the night.
Her fingers worked quickly to remove the uniform she wore without having a single thought to tell them what to do. She had put the jacket on and off hundreds of times in the almost ten years she had been in the Army and like most things, this too had become muscle memory. She hung it up and glanced at the oak insignia on the chest, the recent promotion was bittersweet.
Maria Hill was the textbook definition of the perfect soldier so, it wasn’t too much of a shock when she was promoted to major, her commanding officer had made it a point to tell her she was one of the youngest majors in recent history. The brunette recalled the pride in his eyes as he pinned her almost as quickly as she remembered the empty chairs that sat around the room.
The promotion ceremony should have been filled with her friends, family, past companies she had commanded, and anyone who meant something to her. It was a nearly empty occasion. The only blood relative she had left was Ed, her father, whom she had scarcely talked to since the morning she had left for West Point. The friends she had were few and far between, none of them were stationed near her. Her love life was non-existent, work filled that role. That left past companies she had commanded.
She continued to undress, trying to remove the memories from her mind. As much as she tried, they came flooding back as her fingers ghosted over the tattoo on her hip. Three mountains formed a range right above the bone of her pelvis, she and her team had all gotten the first mountain (drunkenly) one night after they earned their combat patches. They had gotten the second mountain on the range after they came back from their second tour, the third after their triumphant third return. They had all promised to get their fourth when they had come back from their next deployment. Maria was the only one who had come back alive.
The toothbrush was pressed too firmly against her teeth as she tried to scrub the memories away. Her mouth filled with the minty taste of toothpaste just as it had been as soon as she could get her hands on it after the explosion overseas. The land mine had killed nearly everyone on impact, those who remained alive bled out in the sand surrounding the remnants of the vehicle. Maria’s mouth tasted like blood and sand for days while she was in the intensive care unit. As soon as she could sit up, her first move was to brush her teeth with the strongest mint toothpaste she could find.
She stared at the mirror in front of her and brushed the dark hair that now hung freely around her face, released from the tight bun it had been placed in nearly 18 hours prior. The warmth of her pajamas offered some comfort as she washed her face with cool water and turned the light off in the room before she could catch another glance at the tired woman who looked back at her in the reflective surface.
The Commander made her way over to her bed, just as she had done every night since she had been stationed here. She double-checked that the alarm clock was set for the morning, five hours was better than four she thought before then double-checking her phone for any missed calls or texts. There was nothing.
Her eyes closed as she pretended that the sting that came with the missing notifications didn't hurt as much as it did. Instead, she thought of each item on her to-do list, it was her version of counting sheep. Counting item after item until she was asleep.
Running had always been a strong suit for Maria, her success in track and field had been one of the reasons she was accepted into West Point after high school. People knew this and would therefore groan every time they saw Major Hill coming to lead PT in the morning.
This morning was no different as faces soured when she placed herself at the front of the company of young soldiers. She knew this course like the back of her hand, not having to think when they took turns and corners as they approached the last half mile.
“Major-” the Captain next to her tried to cover his gasps of breath, snapping Maria out of her thoughts.
She turned around to find her new company full of red-faced, sweaty young soldiers. Her pace it seemed was too fast for them but, she remembered the endurance it required to stay alive that day in the desert.
“Captain,” she nodded and continued at her pace for the last half mile.
By the end of the run, the soldiers behind her were dead on their feet and practically telegraphing their ill will toward the woman in charge of them. Their feelings were made abundantly clear when not one person made eye contact as they were dismissed. She knew that they were unaware of her reasoning to push them past their breaking point, to increase their endurance by any means necessary, many of these soldiers would be facing their own combat soon enough and that training could keep them alive. It was worth the ill feeling towards her.
“Morning Commander, how are you?” One of the young men in her office greeted her as she walked into the building.
“I’m well and yourself?” she offered back to him.
“Good,” he glanced around the room once before looking back at her, “There is a man here to see you, Major Hill.”
“A man?” She questioned not only who it could be but why the man didn’t have a name.
“Yes, ma’am. He said that he was here to discuss opportunities,” the young man tried to maintain eye contact but broke down not even 3 seconds in.
“And where is this man now staff corporal?” She had more important things to do this morning.
“In your office ma’am,” the man's voice cracked as he spoke.
Ah, Maria thought, that explains the guilty look.
She turned and entered her office without a word. Whoever this mystery man was better had been important to disrupt her morning and cause the kid up front to be a nervous wreck.
The man in front of her demanded attention with a long black trenchcoat, shaved head, and goatee. Not to mention the missing eye and the fact that he physically towered over her desk. Nothing about him looked like he was in the military, let alone someone she knew, and yet he stood as if he had been in the office enough to be comfortable in it.
“Hey Gold Oak, nice of you to finally get to work,” he flashed a sly smile and stood to his full height.
There was a lot to unpack in the one sentence that had been said:
He called her out by rank, going as far as to use the nickname, something that wasn't lost on Maria. He was at a meeting before 8am and called her late, all signs pointed to him being in the military and yet she knew he wasn't.
There was also the ease with which he said the sentence as if he knew her but she was almost certain she had never met this man. At least, she couldn't remember meeting this man. The Commander had sustained a minor traumatic brain injury during the explosion so there were pieces of her memory that were fuzzy.
“Major Hill,” she stuck out her hand to shake his.
“Fury,” he shook her hand and watched her closely as she took a seat behind her desk.
“Please,” she motioned to the small chair across from her, “what is it I can help you with, sir?”
“Well, I came here to see if I could persuade you to change your mind about the offer I made you about 10 months ago. But it seems that I didn’t make a lasting impact and gotta start from the top,” he rolled his one good eye and leaned back into the chair.
“I apologize, sir, you may need to jog my memory,” she sat straighter trying to hide the embarrassment she felt.
“I heard about the incident, I wasn't aware that it affected your memory,” he now looked more sincere.
“About a month before the explosion and the month following it,” she omitted that she could recall the incident itself perfectly.
“My condolences to those you lost,” he gave her a small nod and looked down, “You turned me down previously based on your team. I can imagine how much they meant to you.”
“Thank you, sir,” she pushed the feelings of sadness and guilt down, she didn't drop her gaze, “please remind me of the proposal.”
“I work for an organization called the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division or SHIELD. It is a counter-terrorism and intelligence agency, tasked with maintaining both national and global security,” he seemed as if he was reciting a textbook definition.
“Ah, right,” she tried her best to pretend that she recalled even part of the conversation they had already had.
“You have an impressive track record Major Hill, one that we could use at SHIELD,” his eye never wavered from hers, “I understand that you would be leaving a promising future here but, I believe that you would blaze new trails at SHIELD.”
The tone of his voice made her genuinely consider the offer, there was a lot at risk of leaving the Army for an agency she knew nothing about. She raised her head slightly to indicate for the man in front of her to continue his persuasion.
“It would be a lateral move in a sense, you would still be commanding a group of agents, but it would come with a significant pay grade and increased responsibility as we see fit,” the man reached into the side of this jacket, “you would finish up the rest of your Army contract with us and then sign on for a minimum of three years.”
He handed her a card that was embossed with nothing more than a phone number.
“I will however need an answer in 72 hours,” the man got up and left the room without another word.
Maria sat there and stared at the card in her hand, slowly running her fingers along the raised numbers. She wished, now more than ever, that she had the ten previous months to consider a proposal like this. But that wasn’t the case; she had 72 hours.
The next day seemed to simultaneously drag on and fly by, items on her to-do list were marked off at a much slower speed than normal that day, and she continued to think about the offer she had received. The man, Fury, was right in his assessment that she would be leaving behind a promising future in the Army, but it was solely based on her career. She couldn’t go more than an hour in her current office without a reminder of those she lost.
There were always going to be memories of shared moments with her old team in each building she entered and always looks of pity from others who knew of the accident. The lights turned off around her as she sat at her desk, pulling her back to the present. She was the last in the building and hadn’t moved enough for the motion sensors. There was something about it that led her to sit there quietly in the dark for a moment before exhaling, collecting her things, and calling it a night. There was more she could do, but there was always more she could do.
She looked at her watch as she left the office: 38.5 Hours Remaining.
An aroma of spices and cooking meat flowed from her kitchen as the woman rotated the flautas on her stove. It was nights like tonight when she had longed for the comfort of her Abuela to guide her in the right direction on what she should do. She had passed right before Maria had reported for her second tour overseas so, she would have to settle for foods that reminded her of the woman, and her handwriting inked onto her wrist forever.
The smoke detector began to blare through the space as she zoned out and missed the burning tortilla that stuck to the stove.
“Shit,” she removed the pan and began waving a dishtowel in front of the alarm to try and disperse the smoke quickly.
At the same time, her phone began to ring and she hastily opened it and placed it between her ear and shoulder as she tried to waft the smoke away from the detector as best as she could.
“Hill,” she answered as the beeping died down.
“Good evening Major Hill, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time,” a man spoke through the speaker.
“Go ahead,” she half-expected the call to be from a commanding officer letting her know she was needed back at work.
“My name is Phil Coulson, I am an agent, a handler, for SHIELD,” he paused and waited for a response.
The information caught her off guard and she pulled the phone away for a moment to look at the number he was calling from *Restricted*.
“SHIELD,” she responded.
“Yes ma’am, as I mentioned I am a handler for the agency. I heard that you had a meeting with Director Fury recently,” he paused here again, to check that she was still listening.
“Yesterday morning,” the blue-eyed woman confirmed before walking back to her stove and resuming cooking.
“I wanted to call and talk to you a little more about the position. I know that the director can be a little scarce on the details sometimes,” she could hear a small smile on his face as he spoke.
“Got it, that'd be helpful,” she would take all of the information she could get to try and help her make a decision.
“Of course, as a handler myself I could give you a more in-depth explanation of what your job duties would look like along with some of the responsibilities and requirements,” the man started.
In fact, it wasn't until another 30 minutes had passed before the man stopped talking, really giving her in-depth details about what it would look like for her to be part of the organization.
“How many people would I be overseeing on my team?” she plated the last of her food.
“Well, it would start off with a group of less than 15, the higher you’re promoted, the fewer agents you would work with,” he hesitated for a moment, “you would join them in the field at first, but this would become less frequent over time. Unless that is something you are not comfortable with.”
He knew, there was no way this man would have ended the sentence that way unless he knew about the explosion.
“I prefer to stay with my team at all times.” She didn't give him any more information.
The man chuckled, “I appreciate the enthusiasm already but I do know that Fury selected you for your expertise in planning styles.”
Her planning style, the same planning that ended with the company of her men dead. The taste of sand filled her mouth once again as she recalled that day. The image of bloodied uniforms under the hot sun burned into her mind.
“Major Hill?”
“Thank you for the insight, I will give Fury my answer in the next 38 hours,” the brunette tried to cover, not knowing if he had asked her a question or was making sure she was still on the phone.
“Of course, if I can give you my phone number you will be able to call with any additional questions you may have,” he listed the ten-digit number after she confirmed she had a pen in her hand.
“Thank you,” she looked again at the number.
“My pleasure," he cleared his throat, "and Major Hill?”
“Yes?” she paused from where she placed her food down on the small table in her apartment.
“I wanted to let you know that I've looked at your file and I think that you would be a really great fit at the agency. I truly look forward to meeting you and having you as part of our team- our- well our family here in whatever capacity that may be,” the sincerity was clear even over the phone.
“Thank you,” she couldn’t bring herself to say anything more.
“Have a good rest of your night Commander,” with that the man hung up.
Maria slowly sat down, looked at her food, and began eating it, contemplating what the man had said over the phone the whole time.
It sounded like a great opportunity but she knew she was still needed on base, she couldn’t leave the soldiers under her command already. She needed to work with them to get them ready for their next deployment.
Authority was what she had known her entire life, her father had gone from the Army to the police force in Chicago, and her grandfather was a general. She thought back on how the only time she had felt any sense of pride from her father was when he found out about her acceptance into West Point. A pride that quickly moved to anger and then criticism and skepticism that she had only been admitted based on the accomplishments of her father and grandfather.
The thought soured her mind and her appetite as she pushed her food away and pulled out her phone.
Maria: Still up?
Patricia: :)
“Long time no talk Mia!” Patricia’s voice cut through the emptiness of the apartment the short-haired brunette paced through.
“Hi Trish, sorry work has been crazy,” she thought back and couldn't remember the last time she had actually called the woman.
“Work is always crazy for you, it’s like your favorite way to do it,” Patricia muttered the rest of the sentence under her breath, “probably as a way to stay busy so you don't have to deal with your past trauma.”
“Anyway,” Maria knew she was right but was entirely too tired to put up a valid argument, “how are you, how’s the city?”
“Oh I’m fine, the plants at work hate the cold still, Bryan is good, the city misses you,” she trailed, “I miss you.”
“I know, I miss you too,” Maria had called the woman to ask her stance on what she should do about SHIELD but stopped there.
She wasn’t entirely sure where SHIELD was located but based on Phil Coulson calling her rather than meeting her, she had a feeling it was further away than she had hoped. Her current base was only a few hours from Chicago which meant she was still able to go visit people like Patricia when she had the time.
“So why’d you call?” there was a bit of concern in her voice, “Not that I don’t love hearing from you but you’ve never been someone to call late unless it was an emergency.”
It was a fair point, in fact, she was normally Maria’s first call during panic attacks if she could get her hands to stop shaking. Patricia was her first friend as a kid, her family had raised Maria more than Ed ever had, especially after they saw the explosive temper the man maintained during a softball game one day. If she wasn't at her grandma's, she was at Patricia's house.
“I was just thinking about life, and work and I wanted to talk to you,” she skirted around the details.
“Something happen at work after the promotion?” the blonde woman's voice laced with concern.
“No, no, work is fine I was just thinking,” she sighed, “Maybe there’s more to life than the Army.”
“Yeah, I could have told you that,” the woman chuckled into the phone, “your whole life has been one way but it doesn’t mean that it’s the only way to live it, Mia.”
Maria thought hummed into the phone, thinking about the truth in the words.
“When’s the next time I get to see you?” A small amount of worry still filled Patricia’s voice as she spoke.
It was this question that prevented Maria from asking any further questions about the career change. If she took the position (a very strong if) she would most likely be even further away from the woman who had been there more than anyone else in her life. Maria knew the blonde would have been nothing but supportive, but she couldn’t leave her.
“Soon hopefully, maybe I can head back for the holidays this year,” even saying the words caused Maria to wince, the truth was that she probably wouldn't make it to Chicago, no matter what job she had.
“Always gotta make me wait for the holidays huh?”
“Gotta think of me like a gift,” Maria smiled, she missed the ease of the conversation. She missed being close like this with people.
The woman gave a bark of a laugh, “Of course, you're a gift to us all. I’m glad you called Mia, I’ll talk to you soon okay?”
“I’m glad I called too, love you.”
“Love you, bye” Maria immediately missed the sound of her friend's voice.
PT the next day was cold, rainy, and absolutely miserable. Major Hill just made sure that she had zipped up her rain jacket before leading her soldiers outside into the storm.
“Rain, snow, or shine,” she turned to face the team, having to raise her voice as the wind ripped through them, “we’ll be out here. Let’s get going.”
If looks could kill Maria would have been dead 100 times over. They ran and ran, and continued to run until the woman had outpaced every soldier behind her. She halted and watched as the rain violently pelted the jackets of her team.
“Dismissed,” she stood and watched as they all began to leave.
“She’s fucking crazy, notice how everyone else is cold but her?” a soldier murmured to his buddy quietly next to him, she pretended she didn’t hear it.
“How could she be cold with all that ice around her heart?” the other joked, “Ice queen can't get cold. That’s how she survived the desert I bet.”
“On second thought, fall back into formation” one snide comment she could deal with, the death of her team she couldn’t, “we’re going to continue running until we learn how to be mindful of the dead. We can all thank private Walker.”
There was a unanimous groan as they all fell back in line throwing curses at the young man as the Commander picked up the pace once again. By the time they were done running, it was quiet, the only noise was the chattering of teeth in the rain.
“Dismissed,” she waved a hand, and once again watched them all turn and leave, catching the sight of a few soldiers that had started to shake in the cold. Their lips were slightly blue as they looked at her and she immediately knew, she had pushed it too far.
“Major, my office, now.” Her commanding officer didn’t wait for a response as he barked the orders.
"Shit," Maria finished filling her coffee cup in the office kitchen and headed down the hall.
She knocked quickly on the door that was still slightly ajar, “Sir.”
“Enter,” he pointed to the chair across from his desk.
He was a large man who used his stature and position to get what he wanted. He had yelled at her for the sake of seeing how far he could push it the first week she joined the battalion. Since then she had been on her best behavior to make sure she was not in an enclosed space with him.
“Care to tell me why I had multiple men in the treatment facility today after PT?” He knew the answer already but wanted to hear what she had to say. To hear her admit to the mistake.
“I would assume that it was due to training in a cold environment sir.”
“Yeah, you’d assume correctly there gold oak. And who was in charge of that training?”
“I was sir," she kept her eyes focused just past his right ear.
“Can you handle the responsibility of this team or did your last commanding officer make a mistake putting you up for promotion too soon?” His eyes narrowed in on her.
“I can handle the responsibility, sir.” She nodded once. She was going to be perfect.
“Dismissed.”
She returned to her office and worked for hours, diligently reducing the number of items on her to-do list. She would be perfect. Maria outlined new initiatives and scrapped them after finding flaws. She would be perfect.
Her mind wandered once, thinking about the possibility of SHIELD when she noticed she had 12 hours to decline Fury’s offer. She couldn’t leave the Army and that was final.
Her body ached as she laid down on her bed that night, opting to forgo dinner to get more sleep. Her mind needed to be sharp. She needed to be perfect. It was the first time she had gotten her to-do list down to zero in months. She would show them just how perfect she could be.
She looked at her watch one final time before sinking into sheer, exhausted sleep: 9.5 Hours Remaining.
Her dreams were not forgiving that night, they didn’t care how exhausted she was, and by 4am she gave up on sleeping altogether. Her feet hit the cool floor as she got up and ready for the day. It was still too early to leave for PT so instead she stood at her kitchen counter and made a timeline of how she would spend the next 10 years in the Army. After 30 minutes she had it: her professional life mapped out in front of her for the next 10 years.
The timeline was neat and clear, she looked at it again while brushing her teeth and doing her hair. She carried it with her to her bedroom while she got dressed and looked over it again. It was on her stack of papers she would bring into work that day so she could ensure it was perfect. She would be perfection.
PT came and went with a few more glares of hatred, but no more visits to the infirmary. Reluctantly, she called it a success, at least it wouldn't change anything on the timeline of her career.
She dismissed them and waited until they all walked away before showering and dressing for the day. She looked at her timeline as she walked into work, nearly missing the vibration of her phone in her pocket as she read it over again.
Maria did a double-take as she read the caller ID: Ed.
“Good morning sir,” she closed the door to her office.
Whatever her father had to say to her was not something she wanted to share with those around her.
“Maria, why did you go to West Point?” His voice was loud.
“To become the best soldier possible,” she answered, opting to leave out the truth. To make you proud would have earned her was a cruel laugh and a snide remark.
“So then why did I get a call from an old buddy that you’re doing a fucking shit job at leading?” His voice was even louder now.
“I- um,” she stuttered trying to wrack her brain on how he knew about something that happened less than 24 hours previously.
“I- Um,” he mocked her, “not an answer Maria.”
“I made a mistake, sir.”
“Did I raise someone who makes mistakes? Did I sacrifice so much in my life for anything less than perfection?”
“No sir,” she tried her best to keep from any emotion showing in her voice.
“Well, it seems like I did according to Simpson!” Ed Bellowed.
Her commanding officer knew her father, they were both loud and mean. It checked out.
“I won’t falter again,” she tried to keep her voice calm even as she looked at the timeline on her desk.
“You won't falt- ha. Yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” his voice was quieter now, “You will Maria, you will falter again, and we will have this conversion again after I hear from someone else who calls me and tells me my kids a fuck-up riding on the success of her father and grandfather.”
Her hands balled into fists, no matter what she did she was always in his shadow. There was always someone around to tell Ed about any shortcomings Maria had.
“Do you know how embarrassing that is? Old friends are always telling me about you, how they feel so bad for you because of one little accident,” he scoffed, “poor pitiful Maria, that’s why they promoted you ya know? Felt bad.”
“You will not hear about me faltering again,” the anger continued to creep up.
“Yes, I will. I will always hear about it because I will always have someone close enough to you to see it.” His voice was low and menacing, the way it always got before he detonated.
“No, you won't,” she pulled the phone away from her face as she heard him explode.
It took the press of one button before her office was shielded in peace and silence. Maria sat in it for a moment longer before she opened her phone once more and dialed a number.
Air rushed into her lungs as she took a deep breath and crumpled the paper in front of her before the person on the other end answered.
“Director Fury, I accept your offer.”
She looked up at the clock in front of her: 0 Hours Remaining.