Radioactive | Bucky Barnes

IRON MAN: CHAPTER FOUR

The trainees had to live at the base for the next three months—eat, sleep, and breathe the intense training to be considered a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. The upside was that Rhiley didn't have a place to call her own anyway. The downside? They had to sleep in bunks, four to a room.

Rhiley had claimed the top bunk, since she was the first to arrive after bailing on the rest of the day's activities. She stared up at the ceiling, barely a foot away, and listened to the rhythmic beat of her heart. Her hands rested on her stomach, rising and falling with each breath, but there was an uncomfortable tightness in her chest, a lingering feeling of doom that wouldn't go away. She swallowed hard, but it stuck there, like a stone in her throat.

The door creaked open, and Olivia's head poked through the gap. "There you are," she said with a small smile. "We were worried about you. First days are tough; I'm honestly surprised I didn't trip on the course."

Rhiley didn't respond, still staring blankly at the ceiling.

Olivia climbed up onto the edge of the bunk. "It's okay, Rhiley. We're roommates now, so I'm gonna have to look out for you," she said with a grin. "And listen, you don't have to be perfect. We're all allowed to fail every now and then. The important thing is picking yourself up after."

Rhiley remained silent, her mind drifting elsewhere.

Olivia sighed, her voice softening. "I got Charlie to join us for dinner. You should come. Only if you feel up to it. We'll be in the cafeteria."

When Rhiley still didn't answer, Olivia hesitated before jumping down from the bed. "Just think about it," she said gently as the door clicked shut behind her. Rhiley pulled her hand over her eyes and let out a long, frustrated sigh. I should be used to this by now, she thought. Shouldn't I?

-

-

-

It was Friday, and Rhiley sat across from Phil in the same booth at the diner. This wasn't the first time he'd taken her out of the base for a change of scenery. She had already drained her second cup of coffee when she finally broke the silence. "So, she snitched on me."

Phil looked up from his menu, unphased. "It's not called snitching, Rhiley."

"She told you about me bailing on the course," Rhiley said, her voice a little sharper than she intended. "That's snitching."

Phil raised an eyebrow. "It's her job to keep track of you."

Rhiley narrowed her eyes. "I know what it is, Phil."

"I understand this transition is going to be difficult," Phil said, his tone calm and measured.

Rhiley's grip tightened on her mug, her eyes briefly flashing with frustration. "You understand?" she asked, her voice low. "You understand what it's like to wake up after 70 years in a coma, to wake up in a world where everyone's gone and there's no one left? To feel like you don't belong anywhere?" She let out a bitter laugh. "I'm pathetic."

Phil leaned back slightly in his seat but remained steady. "You're learning," he said simply.

"I was a damn good agent once," Rhiley snapped, her voice cracking with emotion. "I was high-ranking. And now I'm starting from scratch. I feel like a fucking rookie again."

"You're putting too much pressure on yourself," Phil said gently.

Rhiley let out a harsh laugh. "You don't get it, do you?" She looked at her waffle, but the food didn't seem as important as the weight she carried. "I shouldn't be here. I should have died that day. But I didn't, and now it's like some kind of punishment. I didn't do anything wrong, but here I am, stuck in this... this mess."