Radioactive | Bucky Barnes

THE FIRST AVENGER: CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Rhiley woke up in her bed, drenched in sweat, her chest tight, and her mouth dry. Her pulse was pounding in her ears as she struggled to catch her breath. The remnants of the nightmare still clung to her like a heavy fog she couldn't shake off. The terror, the violence, the blood. It was all too real, too close. She tried to steady herself, but it felt impossible. The fear was still there, nestled deep inside her ribs.

The bedside lamp flickered to life at her touch, its soft glow doing little to ease the panic that had a firm grip on her. She inhaled deeply, but it did nothing to quiet the storm raging in her chest. She was still trembling. Her fingers were cold.

And then came the knock.

Loud. Unpleasant. Unwelcome.

"Go away!" Rhiley snapped, her voice hoarse from the remnants of the scream she hadn't realized she'd been holding in.

"Rhiley." The voice was firm but gentle. Howard. "Let me in."

Her hand curled into a fist, slamming against the bed. "Go away, Howard!" she called again, not caring how sharp her words sounded. She didn't want anyone. Not right now. Not after everything.

The door clicked. Unlocked. And then it opened.

She didn't turn to face him. Instead, she buried her face in the pillow, hoping he'd take the hint and leave. But he didn't.

"I'm not in the mood, Howard," she muttered, the words barely more than a breath.

"Too bad." His voice was closer now, and she could hear the rustling of fabric as he moved toward her. A bag hit the floor with a soft thud, followed by the sound of papers shuffling. "Since you refused to stay in the medical wing," he continued, his tone unwavering, "You get me instead."

"I'm fine," Rhiley replied through gritted teeth, rolling over to face the wall. She didn't want to see him right now. She didn't want to face anyone. Not after everything that had happened.

Howard's footsteps were steady, purposeful. "Do you not remember the fact that your chest was smashed in?" he asked, the concern in his voice sharpening. "If you weren't you—you'd be dead! And let's not forget the bleeding from your eyes. Like something out of a horror movie."

She didn't respond. Instead, she curled deeper into the blankets, pushing herself further into the warmth of the bed, hoping it would drown out the cold that had settled inside her bones.

"I'm fine, Howard," she repeated, though she wasn't even sure she believed herself.

"Not once in your life have you reacted to your powers like that." Howard's voice was softer now, almost gentle, though it still carried that note of worry. "They've never harmed you before, Rhiley. This is different. We need to figure this out."

"We don't need to do anything," she snapped again, her voice harsher than she intended.

Howard sighed heavily. She could hear him moving, and the weight of his presence filled the room. He wasn't going to give up. She knew that much. But she didn't have the strength to argue, not now. Not after everything.

"I'm fine," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly, her hand clenched in the sheets.

"Not once in your life have you reacted to your powers like that," Howard repeated. "They've never harmed you before, Rhiley. We need to figure this out." He sighed, the sound thick with emotion. "I know you think you're fine, but you're not. And I can't just stand here and let you shut me out."

The bed shifted as Howard sat down at the edge. He didn't touch her, but she could feel his presence, heavy and comforting. He sighed, his voice quiet, "You don't have to go through this alone, you know. I'm here."