Radioactive | Bucky Barnes

IRON MAN 3: CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Tony glanced up the stairs, annoyed and restless. 

"I'm fine with you bringing that kid back down here, though, why are you working with a kid?" Rhiley, half-lounging in an old chair with a bloodied bandage across her ribs, raised an eyebrow. "What happened to the 'no sidekicks under eighteen' rule? Or did that get lost somewhere between the suits and the ego?"

"He's smart," Tony replied flatly. He pointed at her without looking. "You—stay there. Don't want you ruining my work."

"Oh yes," Rhiley said dryly, "God forbid I interfere with the sacred art of sticking gauze to my abdomen."

"Yes," he said again, distracted. "Exactly that." He cupped his hands and shouted, "Hey, kid!"

Rhiley rolled her eyes. "He's been eavesdropping this whole time. You know that, right?"

Tony groaned just as Harley's footsteps clunked on the stairs. The kid appeared, looking way too pleased with himself, eyes darting between the two adults like he'd just stumbled on a secret code.

Harley jabbed a finger toward Rhiley. "She's your aunt? But she looks way younger than you." His head swiveled to Tony. "You're old."

Tony sighed. "Fantastic. I'm being roasted by both sides of the generational divide."

"But seriously," Harley said, undeterred, "six people dead, right? But only five shadows." He turned to Rhiley. "What's that about?"

Tony rubbed his temple. "Here we go..."

Harley continued, oblivious. "People say shadows are like soul-prints. If you die and your soul goes to Heaven, you leave a shadow. The bomber didn't. That's why there are only five."

"That's complete and utter metaphysical garbage," Rhiley muttered.

Tony held up a hand. "Don't corrupt the kid."

Harley shrugged. "I'm just telling you what folks are saying." His gaze slid back to Rhiley. "You control stuff, right? Is that your power?"

"I move things," she said coolly. "Usually in a dramatic, fire-filled way. Why?"

Harley was still squinting at her like she was a puzzle he almost had figured out. Tony snapped his fingers in the kid's face.

"Stay on track, Sherlock."

Harley blinked, then said, "You know what this crater reminds me of?"

"I have a bad feeling," Tony muttered.

"The wormhole. In New York." Harley turned to Rhiley again. "You were there, right? You're an Avenger?"

Tony interjected fast. "That's manipulative. She doesn't wanna talk about it."

Rhiley looked at Tony sideways. "I don't?"

He gave her a tight look.

She sighed. "Fine. We're shutting down trauma bingo today, kid."

"But she's older than you," Harley argued. "Shouldn't she get a say?"

Rhiley smirked. "You hear that, Tony? I outrank you. Kid's got a point."

Tony didn't answer. He was taking slow breaths, trying to keep himself grounded.

"Are they coming back?" Harley asked. "The aliens?"

"Maybe. Can we not talk about this?" Tony said, his voice sharper now. "I told you, I have anxiety issues."

"I wasn't talking to you," Harley replied casually, plopping down next to Rhiley like this was a slumber party.