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MOVING MARIA BACK TO MY MULTI

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CLINT​

      “it was well-deserved.” there’s no fight to go out of him because there’s no fight in him. he can’t look at her. fuck, he can’t. it’s been a hell of a past week. half of new york city was coming after him and kate, and then natasha’s little sister. 

    tired doesn’t begin to describe it. he rubs at his cheek and does not look at her. how do you say, again, that you might as well have killed natasha? he’d told yelena he didn’t, but he might as well have. for all intents and purposes he did. it feels like a lie to have told yelena anything different. and that goddamn memorial - 

    “no,” he says, voicing it this time. he’s not okay. he wasn’t okay at the beginning of this and he’s not okay at the end of it. there’s no end of it. “i saw it through. i saw it all through.” 

grief is a bitch.

if it’s ever personafied into a goddamn being,  maria would strangle it with her own damn bare hands.  but it’s not.  it’s just a feeling;  a blanket of emotions still tugging the both of them close.  and while maria reacts with anger,   clint just  ...  falls.  there’s no other way maria could’ve described it.  it’s like a sinkhole somewhere inside of him where natasha’s put when she’s gone;  and now it’s caving barton right into himself.

if these were paperworks,  if this was a court hearing,  maybe she could’ve handled it;  put her hand in it,  and stitch every aching wound right up.  but again  -   grief is a bitch,  and ghosts have a way of coming back out.  fucking black widow programme;  she should’ve known it still existed,  should’ve tracked it down better.   fury could’ve warned them.

alas —

‘   i know,  and it’s killing you.   i’m not gonna let anything kill you.   ’   she says then,  grasping the back of his neck so their eyes would meet.   her own stare is ferocious,  almost mean;  she means business.   before her eyes wander,  taking in all the little cuts and sweats of exhaustion.  maria simply wipes some of them away with her thumb,  her touch is firm,  but her intent is gentle.  she says,  in russian,   ‘   come home with me.   ’

too soon,  she lets him go.  maria turns to the girl  —  kate,  clint calls her.   kate bishop,  she understands from the quick file she retrieved of the girl.  in english,  she commands;   ‘  c’mon,   you got a place we could drop you off at ?   i have to get him to safety.   ’   it’s intentional,  that maria exudes out  he’s mine,  i intend to care for him quick  sort of an aura.

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BARNES​

     With eyes transfixed upon the sycophantic smile he wonders who gave the bastard the audacity. Titanium fist seems contagious, one white knuckled at his side, the other hidden beneath the table’s edge where she can not see it. Blessedly, he does not remember her from earlier days when the world needed his good work and he knew what the give of Captain America’s bones felt like but he does remember the fear. The panic in snippets of news trickling through cracks in the wall while they assessed the risk. Well worth it, he’d paid off.

     The table groans between white pressed fingers, the curl of a full lip Walker’s response to eye contact with a camera lens. He would rip him apart for the shoes he tries so desperately to fill. He would gut him for the insult and brazen mockery of a uniform. For the blood he’d bathed the relic in. The way the pit of his stomach churns he can not look any more.

     “Unfortunately.” In the moment it had taken to hear the first syllable out of his mouth he had understood the trouble to come.

     “I’d rather talk about therapy than him.” A feat, an admission beyond the scope of expectation. He himself is surprised and yet…not. Steve Rogers was a wound yet to heal.

     “I’d ask for someone else, but if she’s the best, I’m terrified.”

‘   aw come on.  a little old mean officer-turned-therapist spooked the legendary 70 year old winter soldier ?   ’     and if maria has any tact,  she’s clearly not exercising it:   her words,  laced with undeserved sarcasm,  comes out flat,  leering in a way that could almost be patronising.   she’s not trying to be patronising,  not really.  what can she say,  not everyone can be charming.  she just has the natural talent of pissing someone off.

ask her former subordinates.  she’s sure there’d been some nicknames circling around behind her back   —   ice queen hill.   deputy dictator hill.   the best of all,   very creative  -  bitch.

she orders a whiskey;   the barman grunts,  and pours it for her.   ‘  he’s not going ten feet near a shield.   walker.  ’    maria says in the end,  leaning back on the topic of neutrality,   even though speaking anything about captain america and its legacy is clearly anything but neutrality.   maria still doesn’t know how to process it  -   how rogers had tore down a whole airport for barnes,  and now left him here,  alone and struggling.

left everyone here,  alone and struggling.   she had exploded SHIELD under his orders;   she didn’t regret a single fucking second of it,  but my god,  does it hurt.   being abandoned fucking hurts.

maria doesn’t think about it.  avoidance  -  such an amazing coping mechanism.   ‘   he is,  however,  hired.  ’    she pulls out a series of pictures - taken from a rooftop angle,  into the window panes where walker stands in a dark uniform,  talking to a woman in a long coat.

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hmmmmmmm....

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me: i’m fine, this is fine my demons: make a multi muse again—

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Jericho Brown, from Another Elegy (”This is what our dying looks like”)", The New Testament

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CLINT

    “she tried to kill me, actually.” she was insistent on it. fuck, clint gets it. he’s got to put down the bag of peas he’s using as an ice pack to sign. ( what’s the point of having an ice pack you can’t eat later? clint doesn’t see one. ) “come on, hill, the widow program. it’s different. it is.” 

‘  jesus fucking christ,  clint !  ’    she’s shouting  —   it’s not on purpose.   maria feels the trembling worsens,  but she curls her fingers into fists.  once,  twice  -  a methodical thing.  she glares at him as he tries to explain,  very poorly,  and maria feels like shouting again.  she chooses instead to furiously signs :   ‘   don’t start with me on that.   don’t.   you know—   ’   she couldn’t continue.   you know how much you meant to me.   you know i couldn’t lose you.

she heaves a breath instead,  her eyes are painful.  wet with tears she’s restrained back.   in the corner of her eyes,  the dark-haired girl is staring blankly between them,  clearly intrigued by this exchange,  though she stays fortunately quiet.  smart.   maria takes a moment,  presses her hand against her mouth,  and she breathes.

‘   are you okay?   ’    she signs in the end.    ‘   come home with me.   i’ll drop the kid off.   ’

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‘   i don’t care who the fuck she is,   ’   maybe she does;   her hands are trembling more than she’d like.   or maybe it’s because clint’s life was almost ripped from her too.   and how many deaths would that have been ?    she doesn’t want to think about it.   ‘   she tried to hurt you.   ’

   @arrowloosed​   /   smol starter call

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maria capable of holding a grudge for years is rlly not sexy ://

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*  headcanon  +  black widow programme,  the winter soldier involvement,  post endgame reaction.      this is based on a very, very old thread and is not applicable if any aforementioned characters depicted this event differently.   as usual,  i am also extremely flexible to rearrange details according to my rp partner’s preference!

immediately post-catws,  maria had uncovered what she had thought then was old records and files (and i’d like to think even journals) of the black widow programme.  they’re very scattered,  few and far in between.  going through the records with her team,  she did discover a mention of ‘THE AMERICAN’ which she could immediately conclude to have been one of the girl’s trainer.

it is only later that she could identify it back to the winter soldier due to a very brief mention of THE AMERICAN’s arm needed replacing after one of the girls successfully won against him.  again,  many of the records are redacted,  so much files were lost,  so the whole picture of what happened could never be unearthed — but even the minuscule of it is enough for suspicion. and maria suspects.

i do like to think maria tried confronting natasha about it — very kindly ( which means: as kindly as maria could ),  but as the events of everything else unfolds,  the conversation halts and maria ended up never getting much out of it,  and never tries to pursue to know more.  the black widow facility falling does bring her attention,  but again,  in the wake of everything else ( and it wasn’t like any of the widows were found nor does any organisation maria knew had the rights to it seeing as ross seized the scene ) maria merely made a note;  knew she’d like to ask natasha about it,  but it’s not too much of a priority then.

endgame happens and natasha’s gone,  maria chases after ghosts.  she doesn’t know about yelena,  not in the way natasha’s told it with clint,  just knows that yelena almost kills clint,  and that scares her so much.  probably makes her wants to obsessively know and locate all of the lost widows,  just so at least she knows.  just so at least no one can pull things under her rug again and targets the people she loves.  and she’d like to know what exactly does barnes have to do with it.

but in reality:  as mentioned,  maria’s chasing ghosts.  uncovering these lost connections to natasha was her way of trying to assert control over something she never could — which was natasha’s death.  i want to speak about it more,  how uncovering barnes’ connection to natasha wouldn’t help her one bit (what will opening that wound do? she’s just being selfish),  or that she can never quite forgive yelena if yelena had wanted to hurt clint even though yelena was clearly someone natasha had loved (and by association, she should love too).  

but that’s a headcanon for another day.

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We talk so much of  light, please let me speak on behalf of  the good dark. Let us talk more of how dark the beginning of a day is.

Maggie Smith, from “How Dark the Beginning” (via voirlvmer)

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i will not apologise for the person i’ll become once secret invastion comes out

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‘   how’s the therapy session,  sarge ?   heard raynor’s a bitch as ever.   ’    though you have to give it to the woman:   you’d think the more traumatised bunch would’ve appreciate a more delicate approach to these things,  but maria knew the army,   the military.   the way they’d walk all over a therapy session,  appointed or not,  if you don’t regale them half as hard as their commanding officer would.

she remembers a time when the psyche team of SHIELD would have to chase a few of her staff just for a sit-down.  ah,  happy times.

on the news,  someone is talking about walker  —  again.   the captain america who decapitates.  that headline was brutal.   maria saved a screenshot.   ‘   you met him?  ’   she says,  quieter,  but not without her firmness;  eyes barely glancing at john walker in a suit,  walking away with his wife by his side across the HD television.   she knows he’s met the guy,  by the way.  that wilson had too.   she just wanted to see what he has to say about it.

   @sarcinarict​    /    smol starter call

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i’ve missed out on sinday but .... hatefucking 🖤

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‘   so you’re tellin’ me that there are ...  ’    she doesn’t even wanna say it,  because if she does that,  it’ll open a floodgate of information and memories and what-if’s which she’s sure is going to push her to the edge.  she’s already got one whole leg off the cliff anyway;   believe her when she says she does not need the push.  what she needs,  however,  is a fucking drink.  and it’d be stupid,  dangerous,  lethal even,  to turn her back against them    —     horrors of new york flashing :  the portal opening,  the sickly grin,  barton’s eyes are blue   —   but she does.  what the hell anyways,  right ?

if they’d wanted to kill her,  they would’ve had already.

‘   you want one ... ?  ’   she offers,  even though she knows it in her knowledge that a whiskey wouldn’t be enough to even champagne-drunk an asgardian.  or is it a frost giant ?   still.  maybe they’d appreciate the burn.   whatever   -   she just wanted to be polite,  normal for once,  after all the shit that’s been thrown at her face.   ‘   riddle me this.   how the hell did you evade detection from strange ?   dr. strange,  i meant.   you got one from where you came from or has your brain’s already scrambled that ?   ’

   @liesmth​   /    smol starter call