Marvel BB Fic: No Fear of Heights [R; Movies 'verse; Maria Hill, Ensemble] 7
Title: No Fear of Heights
Author name: Obsessionality
Beta name: Ifitwasribald, seablue_eyes and AW (from RL, darling you know who you are)
Alternate Link at AO3 for the fic as a whole
LJ 7/8
Fanworker name: Kymericl
Type of fanwork: TBC
Link to accompanying fanwork master post: TBC
Chapter 6
She was also terrified.
But Natasha was behind her, and Phil, and Jasper, and the Avengers. Everyone seemed to have stepped up, because for all Fury’s vaguely terrifying tactics, he was a good leader, and a good boss. She was ready to step up, and she’d always been ambitious. But not like this. She wanted Fury back. This job was about more than just career advancement. They did important work. They helped people, and prevented large-scale destruction most of the time. She could do it without him, but not as well. Not yet. There were too many things at risk, for her to be thinking about her career. Fury was where he was in SHIELD because he was just that good. They needed him back. And she was terrified that they wouldn’t be able to get to him.
It was one thing to be held up in a suburban basement by one man and his daughter. It was another thing to be strung up in a super-villain’s castle, in full view of a live-stream being broadcast across the internet, and exposed to public scrutiny in an unprecedented manner.
Things happened very quickly, once the live-stream went up. SHIELD was a covert agency. Fury was a skilled operative, one of the best, but any sort of exposure on that scale was bound to harm them, and put hundreds and hundreds of their own operatives at risk. Once people realised that Fury belonged to a covert agency, everyone associated with him would be suspect. The Avengers mustered at high speed. Xavier himself confirmed Fury’s location. And then they went in.
They had JARVIS and their own tech department trying to take down the feeds, but they were being very skilfully blocked by a system that didn’t seem to respond to normal stimuli. They had a garrison of snipers set up outside the evil-lair-of-the-week, and a miniature battalion of agents ready to invade. It wasn’t a huge operation, because they were experienced enough to know that this could very well be a play for the Helicarrier, and that they’d be fools to leave it undefended. But it wasn’t a regular mission task-force either, because this was their director. No chances could be taken with his safety.
Between Maria and Phil, they’d had to decide who’d stay behind and co-ordinate. One of them had to go in, and the other had to hold down the fort. Ordinarily, neither of them would go in, because it was too risky, but because they couldn’t completely rule out the possibility of an inside leak, again, they couldn’t entrust anyone else with Fury’s tracker codes. And the other had to watch over the Helicarrier and make sure the Avengers didn’t start World War IV.
And because Coulson was a more experienced Avengers wrangler, it had fallen to Maria to go in with the extraction teams. She’d also be the person best placed to do damage control, in case they’d been too far compromised. She didn’t really want to think about it, but it was her job to consider all possibilities. Phil had helped, some, while she was prepping the teams for the extraction, but since she had the highest control powers when Fury wasn’t around, it eventually fell to her.
She had to leave without saying goodbye to Natasha, and she hated it. She only hoped that her text message with three kisses would get through the massive signal interference on the Helicarrier, and that Natasha would understand.
All was quiet, in the lair. It made them more alert, than if there had been hundreds and hundreds of henchmen. It generally meant that the villain was over confident, but that he had a reason to be. That never boded well for their teams. The tracker ran true, and they found the room where Fury was, with no problems. The tension and unease was prickling at them, by then, each member of the team somewhat jumpy and stressed out. Because where was the bad guy? Where were the foot-soldiers? This was the dictionary definition of too easy. Most of them were only alive because they were firm believers of Murphy’s laws.
The Avengers were waiting overhead, in case she signalled for their fire-power, and Coulson was in her ear. She was snapping updates and observations at him, and it was clear that he was equally tense, and they were unprepared, and that was never good, when suddenly Stark interrupted their private conversation.
“Get Fury, and get out of there. Now, Hill.”
Both she and Phil started talking at the same time, but Stark ignored their questions and protests. “Get the fuck out, Hill. You’re all being compromised. The entire place is being monitored and JARVIS just informed me that everything is being broadcast. There’s a five minute delay and we’re trying to interrupt the signal, but you need to get Fury, and get out, because your faces are on national television, now, and all over the internet. Pepper’s trying to handle Fox and CNN, but there’s nothing we can do about the internet. Get out.”
They didn’t question it, anymore. For all that Stark was a tit, he was a genius, and he was on their side. He knew best, and the consequences of a covert agency being exposed on this scale were going to be catastrophic. Everyone whose face had been recorded would be on the firing line. They’d never be able to work undercover again.
It was alright for Fury and Maria herself, because they rarely did undercover themselves, anyway. But for the rescue teams and the tactical squads, it would be the end of their careers and livelihoods. And very possibly, it would be the ends of their lives. No covert or government agency would ever hire them; too high a security risk. No civilian agency would need people with their abilities and talent sets. SHIELD wouldn't even be able to write them recommendation letters. That was the problem with being a covert agency. You could only ever leave in a body bag.
And that didn’t even take into account the consequences for SHIELD as a whole. SHIELD was one of the better agencies. They’d done everything they could to fulfil their mission aims, to protect the citizens of Planet Earth. They had done their jobs to the best of their ability, and if there was anyone who felt they could have done it better, Fury had always brought them aboard because there were never enough competent agents.
If - When the other agencies who hadn’t known about SHEILD finally found out about the other agency they were sharing funds with, there would be chaos. All of these agencies would turn on them, en masse. Every single decision made by SHIELD would be questioned. Every agent of SHIELD would be publicly discredited. People would be screaming for accountability, not knowing that SHIELD was often the only thing that stood between their continued existence and guaranteed destruction. People would only see the fact that they hadn’t been elected, and that there was no one in charge of them. The WSC would publicly disown them because they hated the Avengers anyway.
Stark would probably help them out, make SHIELD a subset of Stark Industries, but that would mean they’d retain none of the privileges that government agencies had. Stark was a good man, but SHIELD was used to operating independently. Having to comply with SI codes of conduct would slash their effectiveness.
Maria herself was all for freedom of information in principle, but considering that most of the public had no idea what to do with the information except potentially endanger important operatives more than the job already did, she had felt no personal qualms in embracing a role which involved keeping more secrets than anyone could count.
But this was not the time to worry about consequences. It was, technically, but they didn’t have that luxury. They needed to get out, to minimise damages. She didn’t know what good that would do, unless Stark and JARVIS came up with a way to magically solve all their problems, but she could do nothing else.
“Ma, turn on your television.”
“Roger, your father and I are sleeping, baby. It’s late for us.”
“Ma, it’s Maria. Turn on your television. Wake Dad up. You need to see this.”
“Which channel?”
“Any one will do.”
Fury was… not good. They’d got him down from the structure he’d been suspended on, and the first thing Maria had done was to press a gun loaded with blanks into one hand, and to hold his other hand. Some of the team had been tasked to taking down every camera they could find, just in case it helped. They didn’t have much time to linger, so they didn’t bother clearing the periphery completely. It was an in-and-out mission, and that’s what they did. The bastard who’d done this was clearly not there anymore, and they’d just send the Avengers to blow up the facility once Fury was out. Maria didn’t even care. It was safe enough, far from even the suburbs. She’d like to see who challenged her.
Fury wasn’t conscious when they reached the Helicarrier, and they had him installed into the med-bay with minimum fuss. She’d asked Coulson’s assistant to get her work to her in the waiting room. She knew people would be asking why she didn’t just sit in the offices, in her own office, or Fury’s. She didn’t really have an answer, but thankfully no one challenged her directly. It was probably the crazed look in her eyes, or the constant series of phone calls which resulted in her yelling at the top of her voice, every hour or so. Pepper Potts had come over in person, steely eyed and ridiculously tall, to discuss options. No one did options like Pepper Potts.
Maria finally understood why Fury had shaved his head, because this job did not contribute to hair health. She had no idea what time it was, or how many days had passed. She didn’t remember the last time she’d bathed, or eaten something not left on her desk by Natasha. She didn’t know how many people had come to meet her, for things that just had to be done. She didn’t remember when she’d last slept. The hours and days melted into each other, punctuated by Natasha’s occasional visits, when Phil gave her time off from whatever they were doing.
She’d gotten Phil to handle the reconstruction and the safety of the SHIELD agents most at risk, the ones whose faces had been most clearly broadcast. But beyond that, she was handling the entire cover-up, doing the jobs of both the Director and the Assistant Director. These were exceptional circumstances, and exceptional measures had to be taken.
Normally it was completely against Fury’s personal charter to have any one person with that much power, because it generally led to insanity and other bad things, but since he’d very inconsiderately gotten himself kidnapped, and left her with no choice, he could take his charter and suck it. It wasn’t like she had any other choice. There was no one else she could possibly ask to look for internal leaks. They didn’t even know if they had internal leaks. Until they were sure, she wouldn’t be able to trust anyone with anything vital, and these days, everything was vital.
It felt like it would never end.
Everyone was treating her with a certain deference, and she was sure it would go back to normal when Fury was back in action, but for now it was driving her mad. Banner, Rogers and Thor were in and out to give her updates in person, to bring and carry files and tables as she needed. Banner sometimes stopped to translate Fury’s medical charts into English for her, which she appreciated. Clint and Phil also stopped by, with people whom they thought needed to speak to her, about stuff happening in the outside world.
The public, and the government agencies who hadn’t been in in the know were baying for blood. The agencies and the bodies who had known were divided, torn between castigating SHIELD as a bunch of out-of-control military freaks, and supporting them as the first barrier between the planet Earth and the rest of the unknown. Politicians were taking the opportunity to pass laws which were both more and less restrictive to agencies, and definitely more restrictive to the people, and the courts were going insane, overturning increasingly ridiculous laws. The panic was leading to chaos, and people were being misled left, right and centre. There was no one in authority who could give a straight answer, and no one who could give a straight answer would have enough authority to be believed. The public would have laughed if anyone from SHIELD had asked them to keep faith, and trust.
Darcy Lewis, bless her weird little blogger heart, had taken social media platforms by storm. She’d started her own campaign, gathering support for SHIELD and the Avengers. She’d faced a fair few threats herself, but she was a strong, admirable woman. Maria Hill had enjoyed meeting her, even as she had been worrying about everything at the same time.
Somehow a couple of reporters had gotten into SHIELD HQ, which was simultaneously horrifying and infuriating, because how dare they, and how the hell did they even get in? Thankfully they’d been caught long before they reached the med-bay, deep in the bowels of HQ, but it was worrying. The public was in a frenzy.
She got a text message from Natasha, telling her that someone had dug up information on her, of all people, and records of the old case she’d argued, all those years ago, were coming to light. The judge whose life she’d saved was openly praising her as a defender of human rights, and an impressive lawyer. It helped, a little, because SHIELD’s assistant director being praised as a defender of human rights by judges from the 9th circuit meant a lot against criticisms by the director of the NSA saying that SHIELD should be shut down for massive human rights violations.
It was open season on SHIELD. On National Security. Open season on any agency which had ever engaged in covert operations. It was like Watergate, all over again. The newspapers were taking things out of context, making things worse for everyone involved, and Clint had had to be forcibly stopped from hunting down Rupert Murdoch personally, and shooting him in the face. Maria had only stopped him because it would legitimize the criticisms that were being levelled against them.
More than Watergate, it was like an amplified version of the Wikileaks scandal. So many people had come down against SHIELD, just because they hadn’t been open, and disclosed their activities and functions. Julian Assange himself had spoken up from the Ecuadorian Embassy he’d been hiding in, diverting a little attention to the fact that if they’d accepted Wikileaks as a legitimate asset for the freedom of information, they might have uncovered SHIELD earlier. Maria had been sorely tempted to let them go, but Natasha had stopped both Clint and Sitwell from hunting the bastard down.
Stark was a godsend, though, and she’d never thought she’d ever say something like that. He didn’t even gloat when she blurted it out to him, which was a miracle all in itself. He understood exactly what was going on, and it wasn’t that she didn’t either, but he understood it with the intimacy of personal experience. Having grown up as he had, he’d been in the public spotlight his entire life. Nothing he’d ever done had been graced with privacy, and while he pretended that he didn’t care, that he enjoyed the constant over-exposure, she knew they were all smoke-screens.
He’d learned young to throw up smoke-screen after smoke-screen, one cover on top of another. SHIELD had rested on its laurels, confident in the assumption that they’d always be able to defend their privacy and integrity as a covert organisation. They had covers, but they’d never been tested like this. Stark knew what it took to hide from the public. He was an expert at making the media his bitch.
And confidently, no questions asked, he’d thrown the weight of his support in with SHIELD. Defense contractor or otherwise, the opinions of Stark as himself, and Potts as the voice of SI were incredibly powerful, and it helped a lot in stemming the flow of challenges and criticisms flowing in.
The Avengers were also suffering, because of their tainted association with SHIELD. It was something they’d never imagined would happen, because it was so far out of the realm of possibility. Maria had broken a vase the day someone had first suggested that Captain America was a spy for the other side, whatever that might be. Again, Stark had stepped in and helped out more than she’d imagined was possible.
The fact that he’d kept an independent presence from the Avengers, something that had annoyed Fury to no end, had come in incredibly useful, because it meant that much more when he sided with them. Rogers, Captain America, was more credible because Tony Stark, billionaire capitalist, had publicly supported him. That too, had been incredibly bizarre, but she could only be grateful that it had worked. If there was another emergency and SHIELD couldn’t support the Avengers, at least Stark would make sure they could go out there and do what needed to be done.
Stark had even roped in Professor Xavier, who had a not-too-great history with SHIELD. Apparently the Canadian lumberjack from that case, the one which was being furiously dug up by reporters around the world, was a mutant, and was working closely with Xavier. It had earned SHIELD the grudging support of the mutant community, and that was nothing to be scoffed at. Apparently Xavier and Stark were old casual sex buddies, because according to Stark they’d bonded over being rich, brilliant, bisexual, and secretive. It was more information than she’d ever wanted about Stark’s private life, but she and Fury were going to owe him big time, after this.
And just when things looked like they were getting better, Coulson had come in with a look on his face that spoke of nightmares still to come.
“Do you remember what we talked about? About families? All those years ago?”
“What about your family, Phil? How have they handled this? SHIELD, I mean.”
“Well, you know I was an Army Ranger, before this. When I met Fury, and he wanted me.”
“Yeah.”
“Back when SHIELD was younger, we needed everyone full time. We had fewer options. Before we took you on, we’d decided that it was safer for all parties involved to make sure there were no loose ends in real life.”
“What do you mean?”
“They think I’m dead, Maria. They got a letter with the Rangers letterhead, signed by Nick, telling them that I’d died in the course of duty, and that they hadn’t been able to recover my remains. We sorted out a pension plan, and I gave them everything I could afford to, so they could live well. Nick and I planned out a living pension scheme for SHIELD employees. The pension increases if the employee is actually dead, of course, but if they’re alive and they need to be passed off as dead, for the sake of this career, we take care of it.”
“God, Phil.”
“It’s not as good as it sounds, Maria.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure my family would be delighted--”
“Don’t say that,” Phil had snapped, sounding angry for the first time she’d ever heard. He got impatient, and irritable, and tetchy, because he was human, but she’d never heard him angry. “It’s horrible, Maria. My mother died, two years ago, and I couldn’t go to her funeral. I couldn’t say goodbye to her.”
It wasn’t a conversation she was likely to forget. She nodded.
“I hate to say this, because you know how I feel about it, but this is an opportunity if there ever was one.”
“Explain,” Natasha said, from behind Phil, walking into the room and studying him with careful eyes. Maria allowed it, because she wasn’t going to hide behind her scarier girlfriend, but this conversation sounded like she’d need a hand to squeeze.
“If you want to ‘die’, this is the time. We’ve got the media on your side. Maria Hill, Assistant Director of the big bad SHIELD, defender of human rights and good looking, smart lawyer from a good family. If we put it out that you died to save your boss, when Nick wakes up, he’ll be seen as the man who earned the loyalty of good people. Potts and Stark think it’s a terrible idea, because it’ll make you simultaneously more and less visible, but they don’t know what we’re capable of when we want to hide people. I’ve been ‘dead’ for years now. My entire family is military and law enforcement, and we’ve still managed to keep it on the down low.”
Maria took a deep breath, and exhaled. “Is there a deadline?” she asked, resisting the urge to cover her face with her hands and pretend she was anywhere but there.
Phil studied her, and she allowed it. He’d known her for such a long time that he knew her, and she trusted his opinion. She’d take his criticisms and opinions if she had to. “Two days, and then the plan’s no longer workable.”
“Your opinion?” she asked, because it mattered.
“I can’t tell you what to do, because we’re in different situations. I was close to my family. I don’t know, but you don’t seem very close to yours.” It hurt, but she’d asked for his opinion and he’d not do her the disservice of lying to her now. “From what I can tell, your Christmas didn’t go very well.” Phil took a deep breath and ploughed on, “If I were your boss, and a different person, I’d order you to do it, for the sake of the agency. It would be incredibly useful in getting public opinion on our side. Stark’s already got the reporters and publicity company in mind, should you chose to go through with it, and the paperwork won’t take more than a few hours. But remember, there’s no turning back.”
With that, he left Maria and Natasha. She dropped her pen onto the table, and stretched her fingers, feeling blank. Natasha stroked her head in silence, and Maria leaned into the simple, human comfort. Natasha had been incredibly busy herself, Maria wasn’t sure with what, but she’d made the time to drop by with food and the occasional cup of coffee, for a quick kiss or a hug, and it was honestly what had kept her going.
It really wasn’t the time to be making important, irreversible personal decisions, not with the world crumbling around them and Fury not waking up, and the doctors getting more and more worried, and the constant media reports and exposés, and her history and life being thrown in her face at every corner. There was a reason she’d been hiding here, inside SHIELD, doing work that needed to be done, away from prying curious eyes.
She’d seen the video of the rescue. She’d seen her team, working fast, with precision and motivation, towards their common goal of rescuing Fury. She’d seen the snapshots of Fury, bloodied and unconscious, silent despite the regular and methodical beatings. She’d seen her own face, clear and recognizable, features unhindered by glasses or cowls, snapping out orders and hefting a gun larger than her own arm in one hand, and a miniature tracking device in the other, speaking constantly and rapidly in code into her earpiece. She’d seen the sudden concern and tenderness in her own face when she pressed the gun into Fury’s limp hands.
She knew that was the scene that would be replayed to death on the newsreels in the following months. She knew there would be conspiracies of her sleeping her way to the top, and that there would be riots and protests both in her name, and against it. She knew that they’d all focus on her, as the only woman in the tactical team, and the one clearly in charge. She’d been around the block more than once, with Sue Storm, and Natasha, and Pepper Potts. There would be the usual barrage of sordid nonsense, and everyone would either love her, or hate her, and everyone would pretend to be her friends but no one would actually do her any favours and keep their mouths shut. She knew what was going to happen.
The SHIELD agents working beneath her knew more about her from the news reports than she’d ever told them, in all the years she’d worked with them. For the first time, a flash of concern flitted across her mind for her parents, and how they’d be inundated by reporters, how they’d have their own privacy invaded by people camping in the driveway for any glimpse of Maria Hill’s family. She thought about how they’d be picking up calls from strangers, asking about their daughter, but not the musician. She wondered if the media had managed to trace her siblings. She wondered if the neighbours were being good, decent people, or if they were selling her childhood stories to the highest bidder.
She refocused on the room, with some effort. Natasha was studying her, but not impatiently. Maria sighed and tilted her head up, for a kiss. She’d needed a five minute breather anyway, from the damage reports that were flooding in from agents around the world. Natasha obliged, sweetly and gently.
“You’re going to do it.”
It wasn’t a command, or a question. It was a statement, and Maria knew it, because she was thinking it. There were bound to be consequences. She’d never be able to sit at her Ma’s kitchen table ever again. She’d never be able to fix things with her father. But there were more important things. People had sacrificed their entire lives for SHIELD, and the work it did. She’d wished for it often enough, herself. This was the time to do it, without hesitation. It would even spare her family some agony, if she was dead, because even the media vultures respected the dead. The main regret was that she wouldn’t be able to introduce them to her friends, to Phil and Natasha.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I am. Can I ask you for a favour?”
Natasha studied her. “Will you and Phil tell them?” Maria knew most SHIELD families merited a personal visit when something like this happened. Generally the visit was made by a run-of-the-mill agent, or people from HR such as SHIELD had. This would be off the books, though. Phil Coulson and the Black Widow, but she figured she was entitled to some nepotism. There was still some part of her that wanted them to think well of her in death, and there were no two people better placed to do it.
Natasha nodded, and that was the end of it. She’d do it for Maria, and that was good enough for her. She got the paperwork started, and then went back to the rest of it. There was limited time for personal business anyway. She’d have to think about it later. She didn’t have time for this. She could only hope that she wouldn’t regret it later.
Roger opened the door to a plain looking man in a suit, and a lady with bright red hair in what looked like a cat-suit. “Who are you?” he demanded, and the two exchanged glances.
“I’m Phil Coulson, and this is Natalie Rushman. We’re from SHIELD. Are Mr. and Mrs. Hill around?”
Roger studied them, and nodded. “Come in,” he said, opening the door a little wider. There was a small congregation of people in the living room and the kitchen, all the curtains closed. One or two paparazzos had jumped on Coulson, but they’d been very quietly taken care of, in the front garden.
Phil took off his sunglasses indoors, and stood ramrod straight, and Natasha stood behind him, to his right, in resting position. “Mr. Hill, Mrs. Hill. My name is Phil Coulson, and I’m from SHIELD. It’s with great regret that I have to inform you that Director Maria Hill passed away in the course of duty last night. She was an incredible agent, and an excellent leader. She will be missed, and we would offer our condolences to you.” It was a standard speech, but this was going to be a little different.
Chapter 8
Author name: Obsessionality
Beta name: Ifitwasribald, seablue_eyes and AW (from RL, darling you know who you are)
Alternate Link at AO3 for the fic as a whole
LJ 7/8
Fanworker name: Kymericl
Type of fanwork: TBC
Link to accompanying fanwork master post: TBC
Chapter 6
She was also terrified.
But Natasha was behind her, and Phil, and Jasper, and the Avengers. Everyone seemed to have stepped up, because for all Fury’s vaguely terrifying tactics, he was a good leader, and a good boss. She was ready to step up, and she’d always been ambitious. But not like this. She wanted Fury back. This job was about more than just career advancement. They did important work. They helped people, and prevented large-scale destruction most of the time. She could do it without him, but not as well. Not yet. There were too many things at risk, for her to be thinking about her career. Fury was where he was in SHIELD because he was just that good. They needed him back. And she was terrified that they wouldn’t be able to get to him.
It was one thing to be held up in a suburban basement by one man and his daughter. It was another thing to be strung up in a super-villain’s castle, in full view of a live-stream being broadcast across the internet, and exposed to public scrutiny in an unprecedented manner.
Things happened very quickly, once the live-stream went up. SHIELD was a covert agency. Fury was a skilled operative, one of the best, but any sort of exposure on that scale was bound to harm them, and put hundreds and hundreds of their own operatives at risk. Once people realised that Fury belonged to a covert agency, everyone associated with him would be suspect. The Avengers mustered at high speed. Xavier himself confirmed Fury’s location. And then they went in.
They had JARVIS and their own tech department trying to take down the feeds, but they were being very skilfully blocked by a system that didn’t seem to respond to normal stimuli. They had a garrison of snipers set up outside the evil-lair-of-the-week, and a miniature battalion of agents ready to invade. It wasn’t a huge operation, because they were experienced enough to know that this could very well be a play for the Helicarrier, and that they’d be fools to leave it undefended. But it wasn’t a regular mission task-force either, because this was their director. No chances could be taken with his safety.
Between Maria and Phil, they’d had to decide who’d stay behind and co-ordinate. One of them had to go in, and the other had to hold down the fort. Ordinarily, neither of them would go in, because it was too risky, but because they couldn’t completely rule out the possibility of an inside leak, again, they couldn’t entrust anyone else with Fury’s tracker codes. And the other had to watch over the Helicarrier and make sure the Avengers didn’t start World War IV.
And because Coulson was a more experienced Avengers wrangler, it had fallen to Maria to go in with the extraction teams. She’d also be the person best placed to do damage control, in case they’d been too far compromised. She didn’t really want to think about it, but it was her job to consider all possibilities. Phil had helped, some, while she was prepping the teams for the extraction, but since she had the highest control powers when Fury wasn’t around, it eventually fell to her.
She had to leave without saying goodbye to Natasha, and she hated it. She only hoped that her text message with three kisses would get through the massive signal interference on the Helicarrier, and that Natasha would understand.
All was quiet, in the lair. It made them more alert, than if there had been hundreds and hundreds of henchmen. It generally meant that the villain was over confident, but that he had a reason to be. That never boded well for their teams. The tracker ran true, and they found the room where Fury was, with no problems. The tension and unease was prickling at them, by then, each member of the team somewhat jumpy and stressed out. Because where was the bad guy? Where were the foot-soldiers? This was the dictionary definition of too easy. Most of them were only alive because they were firm believers of Murphy’s laws.
The Avengers were waiting overhead, in case she signalled for their fire-power, and Coulson was in her ear. She was snapping updates and observations at him, and it was clear that he was equally tense, and they were unprepared, and that was never good, when suddenly Stark interrupted their private conversation.
“Get Fury, and get out of there. Now, Hill.”
Both she and Phil started talking at the same time, but Stark ignored their questions and protests. “Get the fuck out, Hill. You’re all being compromised. The entire place is being monitored and JARVIS just informed me that everything is being broadcast. There’s a five minute delay and we’re trying to interrupt the signal, but you need to get Fury, and get out, because your faces are on national television, now, and all over the internet. Pepper’s trying to handle Fox and CNN, but there’s nothing we can do about the internet. Get out.”
They didn’t question it, anymore. For all that Stark was a tit, he was a genius, and he was on their side. He knew best, and the consequences of a covert agency being exposed on this scale were going to be catastrophic. Everyone whose face had been recorded would be on the firing line. They’d never be able to work undercover again.
It was alright for Fury and Maria herself, because they rarely did undercover themselves, anyway. But for the rescue teams and the tactical squads, it would be the end of their careers and livelihoods. And very possibly, it would be the ends of their lives. No covert or government agency would ever hire them; too high a security risk. No civilian agency would need people with their abilities and talent sets. SHIELD wouldn't even be able to write them recommendation letters. That was the problem with being a covert agency. You could only ever leave in a body bag.
And that didn’t even take into account the consequences for SHIELD as a whole. SHIELD was one of the better agencies. They’d done everything they could to fulfil their mission aims, to protect the citizens of Planet Earth. They had done their jobs to the best of their ability, and if there was anyone who felt they could have done it better, Fury had always brought them aboard because there were never enough competent agents.
If - When the other agencies who hadn’t known about SHEILD finally found out about the other agency they were sharing funds with, there would be chaos. All of these agencies would turn on them, en masse. Every single decision made by SHIELD would be questioned. Every agent of SHIELD would be publicly discredited. People would be screaming for accountability, not knowing that SHIELD was often the only thing that stood between their continued existence and guaranteed destruction. People would only see the fact that they hadn’t been elected, and that there was no one in charge of them. The WSC would publicly disown them because they hated the Avengers anyway.
Stark would probably help them out, make SHIELD a subset of Stark Industries, but that would mean they’d retain none of the privileges that government agencies had. Stark was a good man, but SHIELD was used to operating independently. Having to comply with SI codes of conduct would slash their effectiveness.
Maria herself was all for freedom of information in principle, but considering that most of the public had no idea what to do with the information except potentially endanger important operatives more than the job already did, she had felt no personal qualms in embracing a role which involved keeping more secrets than anyone could count.
But this was not the time to worry about consequences. It was, technically, but they didn’t have that luxury. They needed to get out, to minimise damages. She didn’t know what good that would do, unless Stark and JARVIS came up with a way to magically solve all their problems, but she could do nothing else.
“Ma, turn on your television.”
“Roger, your father and I are sleeping, baby. It’s late for us.”
“Ma, it’s Maria. Turn on your television. Wake Dad up. You need to see this.”
“Which channel?”
“Any one will do.”
Fury was… not good. They’d got him down from the structure he’d been suspended on, and the first thing Maria had done was to press a gun loaded with blanks into one hand, and to hold his other hand. Some of the team had been tasked to taking down every camera they could find, just in case it helped. They didn’t have much time to linger, so they didn’t bother clearing the periphery completely. It was an in-and-out mission, and that’s what they did. The bastard who’d done this was clearly not there anymore, and they’d just send the Avengers to blow up the facility once Fury was out. Maria didn’t even care. It was safe enough, far from even the suburbs. She’d like to see who challenged her.
Fury wasn’t conscious when they reached the Helicarrier, and they had him installed into the med-bay with minimum fuss. She’d asked Coulson’s assistant to get her work to her in the waiting room. She knew people would be asking why she didn’t just sit in the offices, in her own office, or Fury’s. She didn’t really have an answer, but thankfully no one challenged her directly. It was probably the crazed look in her eyes, or the constant series of phone calls which resulted in her yelling at the top of her voice, every hour or so. Pepper Potts had come over in person, steely eyed and ridiculously tall, to discuss options. No one did options like Pepper Potts.
Maria finally understood why Fury had shaved his head, because this job did not contribute to hair health. She had no idea what time it was, or how many days had passed. She didn’t remember the last time she’d bathed, or eaten something not left on her desk by Natasha. She didn’t know how many people had come to meet her, for things that just had to be done. She didn’t remember when she’d last slept. The hours and days melted into each other, punctuated by Natasha’s occasional visits, when Phil gave her time off from whatever they were doing.
She’d gotten Phil to handle the reconstruction and the safety of the SHIELD agents most at risk, the ones whose faces had been most clearly broadcast. But beyond that, she was handling the entire cover-up, doing the jobs of both the Director and the Assistant Director. These were exceptional circumstances, and exceptional measures had to be taken.
Normally it was completely against Fury’s personal charter to have any one person with that much power, because it generally led to insanity and other bad things, but since he’d very inconsiderately gotten himself kidnapped, and left her with no choice, he could take his charter and suck it. It wasn’t like she had any other choice. There was no one else she could possibly ask to look for internal leaks. They didn’t even know if they had internal leaks. Until they were sure, she wouldn’t be able to trust anyone with anything vital, and these days, everything was vital.
It felt like it would never end.
Everyone was treating her with a certain deference, and she was sure it would go back to normal when Fury was back in action, but for now it was driving her mad. Banner, Rogers and Thor were in and out to give her updates in person, to bring and carry files and tables as she needed. Banner sometimes stopped to translate Fury’s medical charts into English for her, which she appreciated. Clint and Phil also stopped by, with people whom they thought needed to speak to her, about stuff happening in the outside world.
The public, and the government agencies who hadn’t been in in the know were baying for blood. The agencies and the bodies who had known were divided, torn between castigating SHIELD as a bunch of out-of-control military freaks, and supporting them as the first barrier between the planet Earth and the rest of the unknown. Politicians were taking the opportunity to pass laws which were both more and less restrictive to agencies, and definitely more restrictive to the people, and the courts were going insane, overturning increasingly ridiculous laws. The panic was leading to chaos, and people were being misled left, right and centre. There was no one in authority who could give a straight answer, and no one who could give a straight answer would have enough authority to be believed. The public would have laughed if anyone from SHIELD had asked them to keep faith, and trust.
Darcy Lewis, bless her weird little blogger heart, had taken social media platforms by storm. She’d started her own campaign, gathering support for SHIELD and the Avengers. She’d faced a fair few threats herself, but she was a strong, admirable woman. Maria Hill had enjoyed meeting her, even as she had been worrying about everything at the same time.
Somehow a couple of reporters had gotten into SHIELD HQ, which was simultaneously horrifying and infuriating, because how dare they, and how the hell did they even get in? Thankfully they’d been caught long before they reached the med-bay, deep in the bowels of HQ, but it was worrying. The public was in a frenzy.
She got a text message from Natasha, telling her that someone had dug up information on her, of all people, and records of the old case she’d argued, all those years ago, were coming to light. The judge whose life she’d saved was openly praising her as a defender of human rights, and an impressive lawyer. It helped, a little, because SHIELD’s assistant director being praised as a defender of human rights by judges from the 9th circuit meant a lot against criticisms by the director of the NSA saying that SHIELD should be shut down for massive human rights violations.
It was open season on SHIELD. On National Security. Open season on any agency which had ever engaged in covert operations. It was like Watergate, all over again. The newspapers were taking things out of context, making things worse for everyone involved, and Clint had had to be forcibly stopped from hunting down Rupert Murdoch personally, and shooting him in the face. Maria had only stopped him because it would legitimize the criticisms that were being levelled against them.
More than Watergate, it was like an amplified version of the Wikileaks scandal. So many people had come down against SHIELD, just because they hadn’t been open, and disclosed their activities and functions. Julian Assange himself had spoken up from the Ecuadorian Embassy he’d been hiding in, diverting a little attention to the fact that if they’d accepted Wikileaks as a legitimate asset for the freedom of information, they might have uncovered SHIELD earlier. Maria had been sorely tempted to let them go, but Natasha had stopped both Clint and Sitwell from hunting the bastard down.
Stark was a godsend, though, and she’d never thought she’d ever say something like that. He didn’t even gloat when she blurted it out to him, which was a miracle all in itself. He understood exactly what was going on, and it wasn’t that she didn’t either, but he understood it with the intimacy of personal experience. Having grown up as he had, he’d been in the public spotlight his entire life. Nothing he’d ever done had been graced with privacy, and while he pretended that he didn’t care, that he enjoyed the constant over-exposure, she knew they were all smoke-screens.
He’d learned young to throw up smoke-screen after smoke-screen, one cover on top of another. SHIELD had rested on its laurels, confident in the assumption that they’d always be able to defend their privacy and integrity as a covert organisation. They had covers, but they’d never been tested like this. Stark knew what it took to hide from the public. He was an expert at making the media his bitch.
And confidently, no questions asked, he’d thrown the weight of his support in with SHIELD. Defense contractor or otherwise, the opinions of Stark as himself, and Potts as the voice of SI were incredibly powerful, and it helped a lot in stemming the flow of challenges and criticisms flowing in.
The Avengers were also suffering, because of their tainted association with SHIELD. It was something they’d never imagined would happen, because it was so far out of the realm of possibility. Maria had broken a vase the day someone had first suggested that Captain America was a spy for the other side, whatever that might be. Again, Stark had stepped in and helped out more than she’d imagined was possible.
The fact that he’d kept an independent presence from the Avengers, something that had annoyed Fury to no end, had come in incredibly useful, because it meant that much more when he sided with them. Rogers, Captain America, was more credible because Tony Stark, billionaire capitalist, had publicly supported him. That too, had been incredibly bizarre, but she could only be grateful that it had worked. If there was another emergency and SHIELD couldn’t support the Avengers, at least Stark would make sure they could go out there and do what needed to be done.
Stark had even roped in Professor Xavier, who had a not-too-great history with SHIELD. Apparently the Canadian lumberjack from that case, the one which was being furiously dug up by reporters around the world, was a mutant, and was working closely with Xavier. It had earned SHIELD the grudging support of the mutant community, and that was nothing to be scoffed at. Apparently Xavier and Stark were old casual sex buddies, because according to Stark they’d bonded over being rich, brilliant, bisexual, and secretive. It was more information than she’d ever wanted about Stark’s private life, but she and Fury were going to owe him big time, after this.
And just when things looked like they were getting better, Coulson had come in with a look on his face that spoke of nightmares still to come.
“Do you remember what we talked about? About families? All those years ago?”
“What about your family, Phil? How have they handled this? SHIELD, I mean.”
“Well, you know I was an Army Ranger, before this. When I met Fury, and he wanted me.”
“Yeah.”
“Back when SHIELD was younger, we needed everyone full time. We had fewer options. Before we took you on, we’d decided that it was safer for all parties involved to make sure there were no loose ends in real life.”
“What do you mean?”
“They think I’m dead, Maria. They got a letter with the Rangers letterhead, signed by Nick, telling them that I’d died in the course of duty, and that they hadn’t been able to recover my remains. We sorted out a pension plan, and I gave them everything I could afford to, so they could live well. Nick and I planned out a living pension scheme for SHIELD employees. The pension increases if the employee is actually dead, of course, but if they’re alive and they need to be passed off as dead, for the sake of this career, we take care of it.”
“God, Phil.”
“It’s not as good as it sounds, Maria.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure my family would be delighted--”
“Don’t say that,” Phil had snapped, sounding angry for the first time she’d ever heard. He got impatient, and irritable, and tetchy, because he was human, but she’d never heard him angry. “It’s horrible, Maria. My mother died, two years ago, and I couldn’t go to her funeral. I couldn’t say goodbye to her.”
It wasn’t a conversation she was likely to forget. She nodded.
“I hate to say this, because you know how I feel about it, but this is an opportunity if there ever was one.”
“Explain,” Natasha said, from behind Phil, walking into the room and studying him with careful eyes. Maria allowed it, because she wasn’t going to hide behind her scarier girlfriend, but this conversation sounded like she’d need a hand to squeeze.
“If you want to ‘die’, this is the time. We’ve got the media on your side. Maria Hill, Assistant Director of the big bad SHIELD, defender of human rights and good looking, smart lawyer from a good family. If we put it out that you died to save your boss, when Nick wakes up, he’ll be seen as the man who earned the loyalty of good people. Potts and Stark think it’s a terrible idea, because it’ll make you simultaneously more and less visible, but they don’t know what we’re capable of when we want to hide people. I’ve been ‘dead’ for years now. My entire family is military and law enforcement, and we’ve still managed to keep it on the down low.”
Maria took a deep breath, and exhaled. “Is there a deadline?” she asked, resisting the urge to cover her face with her hands and pretend she was anywhere but there.
Phil studied her, and she allowed it. He’d known her for such a long time that he knew her, and she trusted his opinion. She’d take his criticisms and opinions if she had to. “Two days, and then the plan’s no longer workable.”
“Your opinion?” she asked, because it mattered.
“I can’t tell you what to do, because we’re in different situations. I was close to my family. I don’t know, but you don’t seem very close to yours.” It hurt, but she’d asked for his opinion and he’d not do her the disservice of lying to her now. “From what I can tell, your Christmas didn’t go very well.” Phil took a deep breath and ploughed on, “If I were your boss, and a different person, I’d order you to do it, for the sake of the agency. It would be incredibly useful in getting public opinion on our side. Stark’s already got the reporters and publicity company in mind, should you chose to go through with it, and the paperwork won’t take more than a few hours. But remember, there’s no turning back.”
With that, he left Maria and Natasha. She dropped her pen onto the table, and stretched her fingers, feeling blank. Natasha stroked her head in silence, and Maria leaned into the simple, human comfort. Natasha had been incredibly busy herself, Maria wasn’t sure with what, but she’d made the time to drop by with food and the occasional cup of coffee, for a quick kiss or a hug, and it was honestly what had kept her going.
It really wasn’t the time to be making important, irreversible personal decisions, not with the world crumbling around them and Fury not waking up, and the doctors getting more and more worried, and the constant media reports and exposés, and her history and life being thrown in her face at every corner. There was a reason she’d been hiding here, inside SHIELD, doing work that needed to be done, away from prying curious eyes.
She’d seen the video of the rescue. She’d seen her team, working fast, with precision and motivation, towards their common goal of rescuing Fury. She’d seen the snapshots of Fury, bloodied and unconscious, silent despite the regular and methodical beatings. She’d seen her own face, clear and recognizable, features unhindered by glasses or cowls, snapping out orders and hefting a gun larger than her own arm in one hand, and a miniature tracking device in the other, speaking constantly and rapidly in code into her earpiece. She’d seen the sudden concern and tenderness in her own face when she pressed the gun into Fury’s limp hands.
She knew that was the scene that would be replayed to death on the newsreels in the following months. She knew there would be conspiracies of her sleeping her way to the top, and that there would be riots and protests both in her name, and against it. She knew that they’d all focus on her, as the only woman in the tactical team, and the one clearly in charge. She’d been around the block more than once, with Sue Storm, and Natasha, and Pepper Potts. There would be the usual barrage of sordid nonsense, and everyone would either love her, or hate her, and everyone would pretend to be her friends but no one would actually do her any favours and keep their mouths shut. She knew what was going to happen.
The SHIELD agents working beneath her knew more about her from the news reports than she’d ever told them, in all the years she’d worked with them. For the first time, a flash of concern flitted across her mind for her parents, and how they’d be inundated by reporters, how they’d have their own privacy invaded by people camping in the driveway for any glimpse of Maria Hill’s family. She thought about how they’d be picking up calls from strangers, asking about their daughter, but not the musician. She wondered if the media had managed to trace her siblings. She wondered if the neighbours were being good, decent people, or if they were selling her childhood stories to the highest bidder.
She refocused on the room, with some effort. Natasha was studying her, but not impatiently. Maria sighed and tilted her head up, for a kiss. She’d needed a five minute breather anyway, from the damage reports that were flooding in from agents around the world. Natasha obliged, sweetly and gently.
“You’re going to do it.”
It wasn’t a command, or a question. It was a statement, and Maria knew it, because she was thinking it. There were bound to be consequences. She’d never be able to sit at her Ma’s kitchen table ever again. She’d never be able to fix things with her father. But there were more important things. People had sacrificed their entire lives for SHIELD, and the work it did. She’d wished for it often enough, herself. This was the time to do it, without hesitation. It would even spare her family some agony, if she was dead, because even the media vultures respected the dead. The main regret was that she wouldn’t be able to introduce them to her friends, to Phil and Natasha.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I am. Can I ask you for a favour?”
Natasha studied her. “Will you and Phil tell them?” Maria knew most SHIELD families merited a personal visit when something like this happened. Generally the visit was made by a run-of-the-mill agent, or people from HR such as SHIELD had. This would be off the books, though. Phil Coulson and the Black Widow, but she figured she was entitled to some nepotism. There was still some part of her that wanted them to think well of her in death, and there were no two people better placed to do it.
Natasha nodded, and that was the end of it. She’d do it for Maria, and that was good enough for her. She got the paperwork started, and then went back to the rest of it. There was limited time for personal business anyway. She’d have to think about it later. She didn’t have time for this. She could only hope that she wouldn’t regret it later.
Roger opened the door to a plain looking man in a suit, and a lady with bright red hair in what looked like a cat-suit. “Who are you?” he demanded, and the two exchanged glances.
“I’m Phil Coulson, and this is Natalie Rushman. We’re from SHIELD. Are Mr. and Mrs. Hill around?”
Roger studied them, and nodded. “Come in,” he said, opening the door a little wider. There was a small congregation of people in the living room and the kitchen, all the curtains closed. One or two paparazzos had jumped on Coulson, but they’d been very quietly taken care of, in the front garden.
Phil took off his sunglasses indoors, and stood ramrod straight, and Natasha stood behind him, to his right, in resting position. “Mr. Hill, Mrs. Hill. My name is Phil Coulson, and I’m from SHIELD. It’s with great regret that I have to inform you that Director Maria Hill passed away in the course of duty last night. She was an incredible agent, and an excellent leader. She will be missed, and we would offer our condolences to you.” It was a standard speech, but this was going to be a little different.
Chapter 8