Radioactive | Bucky Barnes

THE WINTER SOLDIER: CHAPTER ONE

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Thank you for making it this far with me. When I started this story YEARS ago and now I'm typing on a laptop with no 'I' key with a shell. it works, it's just rather...stupid. 

Thank you. 

I have been dreaming of this chapter of Rhiley's story for years. 

So thank you for reading. 

----

It was barely past 9 p.m. when Steve Rogers opened his front door and found Rhiley standing there.

Her hair was damp from the misting rain, strands clinging to her cheek. A worn duffel bag hung from one shoulder, and a paper bag of takeout was cradled in her arms. She looked like she hadn't slept in days — or like she hadn't tried.

"Hey," she said, voice soft and hoarse.

Steve blinked, surprised but not unkind. "Rhiley. Everything okay?"

She gave a tired, crooked smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Define 'okay.' I brought Chinese."

One of his eyebrows lifted. "I didn't realize I was expecting company."

"You weren't." She shifted the bag on her shoulder with a shrug. "I just... couldn't stay at my place anymore. Figured you weren't the type to slam a door in someone's face."

"You figured right," Steve said, already stepping aside. "Come in."

She exhaled as she stepped inside, the warmth of his apartment wrapping around her like a soft blanket. It smelled like old books and clean laundry, and some mellow jazz was playing from a small speaker on the shelf.

She set the takeout on the kitchen counter, dropping her duffel beside it with a dull thud. The quiet stretched for a moment. Steve didn't ask questions. Just waited.

Rhiley scanned the room like she was trying to get her bearings. "I didn't mean to just show up like this," she said after a beat. "Everything started feeling too loud. I needed... somewhere quieter. Somewhere not mine."

Steve nodded once, understanding without prying. "You want to talk about it?"

She hesitated. "Not yet."

"Fair enough. You hungry?"

Her smile returned, this one small but more real. "Always."

They unpacked the food side by side — lo mein, sesame chicken, egg rolls. Steve handed her a plate and a fork, and they sat across from each other at the kitchen island, eating in companionable silence. It was easy. Simple. Safe.

When the last of the cartons were empty and the dishes washed, Rhiley stood in the hallway, her duffel slung over her shoulder again, eyeing the guest room.

"You sure it's okay if I crash here?"

Steve leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. "It's more than okay. Blankets are in the closet, fridge is fair game, and I only snore when I've had a rough day. Also I have spare bedroom. We can figure out a mattress later." 

Rhiley snorted. "Guess I'll manage."

He smiled. "I'm glad you came by."

"Me too," she murmured, heading into the room and setting her bag down.

Steve lingered in the doorway for a second longer, then said casually, "I heard what happened. With Tony."

Rhiley turned halfway toward him.

"You kind of disappeared after everything," he added. "He called asking if you were here."

She exhaled through her nose, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Thor kidnapped me."