Radioactive | Bucky Barnes

RADIOACTIVE: PART THREE

"Not many people know this." Rhiley winced slightly as Dr. Selvig drew her blood. "It's not something I go around telling people. It's... personal."

"You have my word," Selvig said gently, wrapping a bandage around her arm. "I won't tell a soul."

He scribbled a note on a hand-drawn chart beside her—his own system for cataloging her tests.

"But if I may ask... why tell me?" he asked, eyes curious behind his glasses.

Rhiley hesitated, then nodded toward the humming containment unit housing the Tesseract. "Because the only person who ever helped me understand what's happening to me—my powers, the hallucinations—was my brother. And now..."

She trailed off.

"There are other scientists at S.H.I.E.L.D," Selvig offered.

"Sure." She gave a dry smile. "But the only person I trust at S.H.I.E.L.D is Phil. And he's not a scientist."

Her tone shifted. Honest. Soft.

"You're a good man, Erik."

"You don't know me," he replied, settling into a rolling chair. "How can you tell?"

She smiled faintly. "Phil trusts you."

Before he could respond, a sharp beep-beep-beep cut through the air.

Selvig's eyes flicked to the monitors. He stood quickly, moving toward the console with concern—not alarm.

"What is it?" Rhiley followed. "And explain it like I'm nine."

She'd learned to preempt the technobabble.

"The Cube's... waking up," he said, watching the blue energy swirl. "It does this sometimes. Small surges. Nothing alarming—yet."

The beeping died down. Selvig returned to the blood samples, trying to mask his unease.

"I'll run this through and have results by tonight," he promised. "We'll figure it out. I swear."

"Thank you, Erik."

From across the room—"Agent Rhiley!"

Rhiley sighed. "He doesn't like you," Selvig murmured.

"He's trying to assert dominance," she muttered, not turning around. "I know the type—"

"Agent Rhiley!" Louder this time.

She spun on her heel with a sugary-sweet voice. "Daniel."

"It's Agent Thompson," he corrected coldly.

Rhiley nodded farewell to Selvig and walked down the steps toward him. "What can I do for you, Agent Thompson?"

"You're not cleared to be up there."

"Neither are you," she pointed out. "But maybe if you were nicer, Erik would let you play with the glowy cube too."

His jaw was clenched. "I don't know why S.H.I.E.L.D recruited you after you failed the Academy. It makes me question their standards."

Rhiley didn't flinch, though her eyes sparked.

"I worked my ass off to earn this position. I won't be undermined by someone who had to rebrand themselves just to stay in the game."

She stayed composed. Barely.

"What do you want?" she snapped, voice low and sharp. "Agent Thompson."

"You've been reassigned." He handed her a paper. "Effective immediately."

Rhiley read it. "The far outpost of the base? That's practically in the Arctic."