Avenging someone

a/n i said it'd be done by the weekend and it's done a day late, not bad, right?

MAY 24th, 2010
TW: alcohol abuse

"Hey, Clint, what's up?" Maria says, pushing her phone down onto her shoulder as she folds her shirt on the side of her hotel bed. She places it down and moves her way to the wooden desk where a bottle of whiskey sits.

"Maria, you need to come home."

She puts the phone down, putting him on speaker. "I'm about to be meeting with some very important people who happen to be above your paygrade." She opens the bottle. "What do you want, Barton?"

She takes a giant swig of the drink and though Clint can't hear her drinking she can hear his sigh.

"Your family needs you."

She wipes her mouth with the side of her wrist. "They're fine. Barton, I really don't have the time."

"Did you see the events in Monaco?"

Maria stills for a second, then places the whiskey down and grabs her phone. She sits at the edge of her bed. "I don't think a soul in America didn't." She's tempted to give in and ask why, but she knows she's getting the answer either way and doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of feigned interest.

"Natasha was there."

There it- "What!?

"Why the- where the hell is my daughter? Why is Natasha in fucking Monaco? Where the hell is my daughter?"

"She's with me in DC. Close to Fury. Now where are you?"

"Why is Natasha in Monaco?" Maria bites.

Clint refuses to snap 'shouldn't you know' and instead opts for: "Mission."

"Nothing more?"

"If you were here I'm sure you'd know the answer." She's back at Stark's mansion in Malibu but that's not for him to tell, that's what she should already know.

I can't go back. Maria stands back up and struggles to get her way to the desk to chug down some more scotch. It was cheap, but it wasn't disgusting. It did the trick nicely- drunk but not too fast. I'm a mess.

"Maria, are you drinking!?"

"Do you want the answer you want or the real one?" She could feel herself getting tipsy. Or drunk. Or something. Was she already at the point where she wouldn't remember this tomorrow? How much did she have while in the shower? There was beer on the sink and it was full when she went in.

"Jesus Christ, Hill."

"Hold on a second." She fumbles her way back to the bathroom. The bottle was shattered in the sink. There should be telltales if it disappeared by hand or crack but she couldn't see through the lines. She must've had something before. So she goes back to her room, sifting through everything. Fast.

"Maria what are you doing?"

"Give me a second."

"Natasha needs you!"

Maria stops in her tracks. She looks around her one bedroom hotel suite. Really looks at it. There were bottles and pillows in weird places. The bed wasn't made. The only out of place thing was the shirt folded on top of the mattress.

She slides down the side of the bedpost. She wasn't going to cry.

"Maria... Hill? You there?" ... "Hey, hey. It's okay. I'm gonna call Fury and-"

"NO!"

She sat back up and hung up the phone so fast you scarcely had a chance to breathe.

You're never 'just okay.'

⧗ⴵ🦅🛡

Maria knew Fury was coming so she left the door open a tad. She packed her stuff ready for departure. She cleaned up the bottles and put them all on the desk. She could've thrown them out but she wanted him to see the mess she created of herself. She couldn't say 'I need help' so she showed it. Even then, there was a drink in her hand as she laid her back against the wall. She physically couldn't stop.

There was no knock at the door. It just opened and she stared as he walked in and took in everything. His face didn't show compassion or disappointment, concern or anger. It was just him, as always.

They acknowledged each other but spoke nothing. He found his way to the wooden desk and put all the bottles in the bin. His plan was to take them out as he brought Maria to the quinjet waiting upstairs.

Maria took another swig of her drink. He wasn't planning on taking the bottle from her.

He finally stood in front of her. He looked down, his hands in his pockets. "Am I carrying you or are you walking?"

She didn't know if she could walk but she shakily stood anyway. He grabbed the trash bag, taking it out of the bin and tying it. He handed it to her and she took it with grace. As she walked with him up the stairs she tripped over herself a handful of times, Fury didn't even turn around.

This stung. This fucking stung.

When they reached the roof the walkway of the quinjet was already out and ready for passengers to board. As they did so Fury spoke again. "You know, Romanoff's been worried about you. So's your daughter. Almost took a snapshot when I saw you. I was gonna show your girlfriend but she's got too much on her plate right now, you know, with Tony Stark and all."

That stung. That fucking stung. She'll ask about Tony later.

They sat down across from each other and the quinjet took off. Maria looked around, her head moving as her eyes darted this way and that. Fury kept his gaze on her though, and he studied how easily she was broken. Her hands still held tightly onto the bottle of whiskey. She wasn't going to hand it over no matter what she wanted.

She brought it to her mouth again and only paused for a second before taking another large gulp. She looked back at Fury and laughed. "God I'm just like my father, aren't I? Drown your problems with a drink- that's how he rolled. And me? Well, these things run in the family, you know?" She held it up in the air as if to cheers.

He stared at her, not allowing her a choice but to look straight back. "Hill, we're gonna get you help."

"Don't I have to want that for it to work?" She laughed again.

"So what is it you want?" He deadpanned.

"Do I want to see my dad's face every time I close my eyes? One or the other, right?"

What he was about to say was awful, he knew that. But it was imperative that he made this point. "Natasha has been through psych, and we've deduced one thing. She knows this. When she sleeps next to you her nightmares are far less frequent, as are the flashbacks. Her day to day tasks are also completed considerably faster than when you or she is away."

"What are you saying?" She knew what it was but she needed to hear it. She knew she needed help, she just didn't want to let her pride go.

"Natasha is the cure, not alcohol."

She held the bottle to her lips and chugged the rest of it down before throwing it to her side and letting the glass break. She winced, it reminded her of her dad.

"No. Natasha cannot see me like this."

"Then get better."

She can't get better without Natasha yet she can't let Natasha see her so fragile.

He was waiting for it, all he needed was for her to say it.

She took a deep breath and finally met his eye.

"I need Natasha."

⧗ⴵ🦅🛡

MAY 26th, 2010
TW: alcohol abuse present though no alcohol usage, mentions and inferences of child abuse, inferences of sexual assault

The door to the Romanoff-Hill suite opened and shut fast.

"I'm not back for long, Hill, but Fury said it was important. I'm on covert in Malibu."

Maria slowly sat up, looking at Natasha. Was this going to turn into a fight? If so, she wanted pants on. She already felt so exposed. Just because she wants to stop doesn't mean she has. There was a bottle on her night table as well as under the bed. She thinks one ended up in the bathroom as well. She felt so hot, even if she was only in a tank top and underpants. Sweat streaked through her breasts and coated her arms in a shimmer.

"Make your analysis of the situation," she spoke hoarsely.

Natasha took her time looking around. The room didn't scream 'Maria Hill: Deputy Director of SHIELD.' Instead it said; 'I don't know who I am anymore.' It lessened the fury but she was still livid.

"So instead of asking for help you drank away your problems? Maria, your family needed - no, scratch that - needs you! I've had to learn to co-parent our daughter with her uncle and Fury. I can't do it any longer. I don't think I can be a mother! Sasha practically hates me. She says you bring all the fun. And truthfully you do because you're never fucking around. I've been ready to pack all her stuff and give her to Clint for good. Where the fuck have you been? You haven't been around for a solid five days in months. Fucking months! And finally you hit your breaking point while I'm on my mission? It's already hard enough balancing small overnights, but the fact I have something important to contribute to something greater than myself, even if it is infiltrating fucking Tony "Iron Man" Stark, and you come back drunk off your ass at the same time? Fuck you!"

Maria's sobbing and Natasha just watches. She's ready to hold her, to console her, to say she didn't mean it and it's fine. But it would all be a lie. Maria needs to cry and Natasha needs to hold herself above.

"Natasha, I physically can't stop. I can't hand you the bottle and say 'I'm done.' I've turned into my father!" Another sob wreaks through the commander.

That's where she needs to step in.

Natasha brings herself next to Maria. She can't cuddle up next to her but she can interlace their hands. Natasha inhales shakily and turns to her lover. "Whatever's going on with you- you are not your dad. You would never hurt me or our kid."

Maria's entire body shudders and a strangled sob, filled with pain, distaste, and hatred fills the air. Her hand retracts from her girlfriend's and she collapses into her own lap. She cries, loudly and in ill form. The tears wet the duvet and quiet the pained gasps that have no thought of stopping.

Natasha rubs her back, coming up and down her shoulder blades. When finally Maria had calmed herself down a bit Natasha lets herself fall on her legs as well. Her head falls on her left side, facing Maria with her arm draped over her shaking body.

"I love you, you know. I'm mad at you sure, but I love you and I care about you and I'm worried for you. Can you tell me what set you off?"

Though finally Maria's not screaming, her mind is still racing. Natasha can't know. Her head shakes into the blanket and Natasha chuckles despite herself.

"Your thoughts may scare you, but I've heard worse."

"Nat, the man who-" she swallows hard. She can't finish that sentence, but it's obvious what she means. Natasha can't know, but Natasha has to know. "You can't let me near Sasha."

Nat sits straight up, incredulous. "You can't be serious."

Slowly Maria regroups and brings herself to meet her girlfriend. She leans against the headboard. "I'm not taking chances. I cannot be my dad."

"Ria- Ria... you cannot hold yourself that low." Nat reaches for Maria's hand but it doesn't make contact. Maria won't let it make contact. "That man was anything but a dad! You are everything better than he is!"

Maria wishes it were that easy. She has to make this point clear. She has to show her girlfriend how awful a place she is in. She has to say something that will terrify her lover into sending her away.

"Yet 50% of him is me. And the thoughts that come with that... Natasha, 50% of Sasha is a rapist and 25% of her is an alcoholic abusive father."

Natasha shook. She did her best to breathe. She shut her eyes and scrunched her shirt sleeves with her hands. "I'll get you help, Masha. I promise. I won't let you near her until you're better." She didn't think Maria would hit her own daughter, truly... but Maria thought herself capable of it and that was worse.

Maria looked up at her. "Thank you." She lunged into Natasha. Her Natasha. She held on as tightly as she could. As tightly as she ever could. And Natasha reciprocated. As tightly as she could. As tightly as she ever could. And for the first time in months, it finally felt like it would all be alright. They both weren't ready to let go.

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hope you enjoyed... this was really evil i'm sorry but i'm slipping in the accuracy behind all of everything. i plan to add chapters from when they first got together later, i'm just pushing along the plot rn. there's definitely more to how maria became director, and i think i'm going to make it more accurate that she got director later, but at the moment it's about her being in charge by Iron Man 2