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"It was you"

Summary:

She didn’t know if it was the pain or the shock, but it felt like someone just shook the inside of her brain. Her mind was jumbled, and there were blanks in her memories that shouldn’t have been there. Maria struggled to keep her eyes open. Even as she did, tears blurred most of what she could see.

Nick- Nick had shot her.

[oneshot fic collection. Haven't moved on from this duo :")]

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: You

Summary:

I do not own marvel or its characters!! I just write fanfics :)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The square was a mess of people running in every direction. Panic spread through the crowd and she could feel her own frantic heartbeat in her chest. Maria tried to help anyone she could. Mostly those closest to the explosion. Her mind was multitasking a bunch of things at once. The decoys, the failure of the plan, if Talos was okay, and of course...

Fury. 

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding the instant her eyes got sight of him. Slight relief washed over her, and she was already going toward him before he even spoke her name.

But then there was a gunshot and the world spun. A gasp of painful surprise and then she was on the ground. 

She didn’t know if it was the pain or the shock, but it felt like someone just shook the inside of her brain. Her mind was jumbled, and there were blanks in her memories that shouldn’t have been there. Maria struggled to keep her eyes open. Even as she did, tears blurred most of what she could see. 

Nick- Nick had  shot  her. 

She could no longer see him, so she focused her gaze on the sky. It wasn’t a pretty sight either. Smoke was billowing and if the pain receded enough for her to focus, she would’ve heard the ear-splitting screams of everyone around her. 

Another spike of pain and then everything slowed. She could feel the blood seeping through her clothes. Her own blood. An unending stream of pain from her abdomen kept her awake. What must’ve been a few seconds later, she saw a figure coming into her line of view. 

Nick. 

Her eyes widened, and her breath caught. The metallic taste on her tongue came so suddenly that it didn’t help her the slightest in trying to breathe . Instincts kicked in. If she could, she would’ve fought and thrashed away from him the moment he tried to touch her. 

But then.. he cradled her. An arm kept her in place and a warm hand cupped the back of her head. 

He was calling her name. She vaguely remembered him calling her name too before...

A gunshot. 

Confusion hit her and she could only manage to say what she last knew. 

“It was  you .” Her words trembled with the effort it took to utter them, but they held a firm resolve. She didn’t mean for it to sound accusing, but she could hardly explain as the amount of blood filling her mouth made her choke. 

Quickly, she was denied. “No. Not me.”  I could never.  She seemed to hear, unspoken. Something in her agreed fiercely at that. Right, Nick would  never  shoot her. 

But she was bleeding. She was  dying . And she knew what she saw. 

She was vaguely aware of an explanation on the edge of her brain, but she was so  damn tired . Too tired to figure out why Nick had shot her but was also now clinging to her with such a broken look on his face. 

So instead, she looked up at Fury’s face, for the explanation that would piece together the shattered fragments of her reality. He always knew what to say, what to do. At least the Fury she knows would, and she was hoping very much that the one holding her was  her Fury

Instead of finding the answers she was looking for, she found something she never wanted to see. The Nick Fury she’d known for so long looked absolutely helpless. Like he didn’t know what to do. For a moment, she thought  he  was the one shot by the shocked look that was still etched on his face.

It was as if he didn’t believe that any of this was real. 

She was shaking. Hard. The only thing keeping her from falling to the ground was Fury, who didn’t seem to want to let her go. 

Her brows furrowed. There was something she still had to do. Something important. She couldn’t quite remember all the details, but a very real threat was out there, and she knew damn sure that Fury would need her. 

In a last-ditched effort, with what little energy she had left, she managed to grasp a fistful of his coat. Although she doubted he even noticed, by the lack of response. The fight was rapidly leaking out of her. Her breathing became shallow and ragged as a mixture of pain, confusion came over her again.

She could hardly even make out Fury’s face anymore. It was getting dark. Weird, she didn't remember closing her eyes.

Before she slipped away completely, she could feel Fury being wrenched away from her side. 

She was alone. She didn’t want to be. 

Notes:

I'm sorry for any mistakes and please come yell with me (or yell at me) in the comments about her death. Because the show is awesome, but man did it have to start like that??

Chapter 2: Your Grave

Summary:

Fury visits her grave and leaves stories instead of flowers

Chapter Text

He visits her grave from time to time. Most would bring flowers, but Maria was never the type for that kind of sentimentality. Besides, her mother made sure there were always enough left for her. So he sits by the grave instead, hands resting on his knees, the weight of unspoken words pressing heavy on his chest.

For once, he doesn’t fight the grief. He lets it settle in his bones, lets it strip away the walls he’s spent a lifetime building. No masks, no calculated distance—just the raw ache of loss. She had always been there, steady and unwavering, and now there’s only silence.

He exhales, the air thick with memories. “Damn it, Hill,” he mutters, his voice rough, tired. He wonders if she’d be mad at him for this—this moment of vulnerability. Or maybe, just maybe, she’d understand.

Fury was used to listening to her give her reports—back when S.H.I.E.L.D. was still standing, and she was his right hand. Technically, he could’ve read every report she gave him on a screen, but he preferred hearing them from her. It was part of the rhythm of their work, something steady amidst the chaos.

If the reports were short, their conversations would sometimes drift toward things less pressing—small talk that served as a break from the never-ending grind of running an intelligence agency. He never admitted it, but he enjoyed those moments. They were rare pockets of normalcy in a job that rarely allowed for it.

And then there were the bad days. The days when the world felt like it was slipping through their fingers, when they were exhausted, frayed at the edges, and running on fumes. On those nights, when the office was quieter and the burdens heavier, they’d talk about things they wouldn’t share with anyone else. Personal things. Family. Childhood. The past lives they left behind for the sake of the job. Neither of them were the type to spill their guts, but somehow, with each other, it felt easier.

So he continues the cycle.

It’s different now—one-sided—but that doesn’t stop him. He still tells her the updates, filling the silence with pieces of the world she left behind. The latest missions, the good ones. How the people they used to work with are holding up. Small things that might’ve made her smirk, roll her eyes, or give him that knowing look she always had when she saw right through him.

He’d admit he mostly sticks to the happy things. She deserves that much. No more burdens, no more weight on her shoulders. Wherever she is now, she deserves to rest without worrying about the messes left behind.

And if, every once in a while, he lingers a little longer, letting the quiet settle around him like a familiar presence, well—some habits are hard to break.

Notes:

Hoped you liked the little drabble and leave me your thoughts <3