Wait…what?

It was at my promotion’s celebration that it happened. I had taken a few drinks as was customary by the men I knew ever since joining the Australian armed forces at age 19.

I didn’t know what would happen of course. Didn’t know the captain I had once trusted with my life and the life of my two infant sons shouldn’t have been trusted closer than I could throw him. He didn’t do anything inherently off putting, just sometimes he would say things that felt like he knew something I didn’t and was trying to make sure I knew that without knowing what he held over my head.

It wasn’t until my head started swimming I knew it wasn’t just some whiskey related anxiety. Because I was crumpling, my knees were giving out.

I heard people moving around me, and then felt arms scoop me up as if I was weightless—which I was a 6’2 300 something pound guy with most of that being muscle, I definitely had weight. 

I could make out voices—put him here— accompanied by somebody trying to squish me into a place I definitely didn’t fit—Captain I don’t think he’ll fit—followed by another push as they tried to force me in—make him fit—and other remarks which got drowned out by my sloshy head. I could feel them bending me like I was some limp doll, which to be fair, I couldn’t move myself so was practically a doll for them to mess with however they pleased. Which I would find out, how they please would be the worst feelings of my life.

The next thing I remember is laying on a hard cot that was probably gonna leave deep red marks in my sensitive skin. I had an IV running into my arm and men talking around me as if I weren’t even there in languages I couldn’t begin to understand. The IV bag was blue—something I had never seen before. Most bags I had seen were clear. Someone had walked up and put a mask over my nose and mouth, tapping it. The lights seemed to blur, and I tried to fight back but found my arms were tied down to the bed beneath me.

Then there’s another memory gap, then I remember laying on a hospital bed. This one was softer. This one I could sit on and not want to curl into myself as laying on my organs were probably a lot less uncomfortable than the rock of a bed they had me on. It was soft but not overly so like the broken down beds I used to sleep on.

There were pillows under my head. A constant beeping followed along with my aching heartbeat, most definitely a heart rate monitor which means I'm probably in a medical facility of some flavor. My ribs felt so tired, breathing was becoming a struggle. 

“Good morning, Lieutenant Brown.” A kind looking nurse greeted, though I noticed with a hint of hesitation there was a guy with a loaded gun resting between his hands. 

“I’m…I’m not in Australia am I?” I croaked out, my throat feeling as if I had been yelling for much longer than any human should be able to.

I looked out to the skyline which wasn’t Melbourne. It wasn’t Sidney or even Victoria. It felt cold and foreign. The oversized buildings stared at each other with barely contained hatred. I could see the top of a white dome off in the distance.

“No. You’re in a Washington DC medical center.” She explained, her hands coming down to check my pulse, which she tutted in response as if somehow its current state was my fault and not some subconscious part of my body.

“Elevated still. Even for someone pumped up on the serum.” She remarked to herself, or at least I don’t think the security guy was paying much mind to her words if she was talking to him. 

He was too busy focusing on me as if I had personally killed his whole family and he was using all his energy just not to pop lead into my body and turn me to a crude imitation of Swiss cheese. 

“Serum?” I groaned, my hand trying to come up and rub my throat, but my hands were tied down to the bed as if I was some kind of dangerous psych patient. I wasn’t. Or at least I don’t think so. If I was that dangerous I’d be put in some prison, maybe in Britain if they didn’t have the facilities to handle me in Australia. 

I definitely wouldn’t be in a medical center in America of all places.

“Super soldier serum…don’t you remember, Lieutenant—“

“Don’t try to make him remember anything. I assure you his memories will come back in time.” A voice I didn’t recognize remarked from behind where I was held down by unfeeling ropes who didn’t care that I was feeling anxious. Who didn’t care I felt shaky, cold, and numb, they just did their job.

“Super soldier serum—I’m not Captain America lady. This isn’t some comic book type bullshit—“

The guard raised his gun higher, aiming it towards me in a constant reminder he can and will unload some lead into my ass.

“At ease. Your gun won’t do anything. He can rip through these restraints. And they were trained to use everything around them to their advantage. This guy—even with your toughest security guy—could kill people.” Were they talking about me or had they switched over to talking about some other guy?

I mean sure I am in the army—or am I? Maybe I didn’t? Maybe it was all some fever dream? No. I was in the armed forces. I know I was! I remembered the party, the way the captain stared at me as if he was sizing up my body. 

“HYDRA—“

“Really, dude, don’t mention anything. He’ll remember soon. And the last thing we want is this guy panicking on us. We all do stupid things when we’re high on adrenaline but this guy is a supersoldier.” The seemingly normal fella leaned forward, his eyes tracing up and down me as if I was secretly his soulmate but he had to identify me.

“In case ya don’t know,” he held out his hand before retracting it, remembering my arms were crossed across my chest. “I’m Sam Wilson.” His hand rested against one of the restraints as he rubbed it. 

“Am…am I supposed to recognize that name?” I asked, wondering if he was some new up and coming actor or something.

“I’m an Avenger—“

“Avengers? Like the comic books my American pen pal talked about? He was the one who sent me ideas for comic books. Sketched em out on the backs of restaurant napkins and soda labels. He said I was his harshest critic and pushed him to be better.”

“…except we’re not comic book characters. We are real.” Sam’s hand was resting on my shoulder, rubbing it. It was strangely relaxing. I thought for exactly five seconds before getting hit with a flash of white hot memories.

Someone was screaming inside my head. Lots of loud noises actually. The sounds of a baby crying, a woman pleading with me. Saying she didn’t see anything, that she wouldn’t say anything, to just let her live.

“No—that…I didn’t—“ blood splatter. The sounds of everything quieting as bodies hit the ground, their blood gushing like rivers from their heads and wherever else someone—me—shot them. 

“No—“

“Lieutenant, Lieutenant Brown, relax.” Someone placed their hand on my shoulder, not knowing if I had access to my arms I would shake them off. But I couldn’t. And their thumbs were digging into my shoulders as if they could sense how rock hard the muscles inside were. When had I tensed up? Unimportant.

I tried to fight them off but felt a prick in my neck. 

“Get some rest, I know you need it more than anyone else in this hospital, especially since you don’t know what the hell is waiting out here. A lot’s changed since the 90s, Lieutenant Brown.” With that he walked out, the nurse left and before the guard could leave, I was passed out. 

Tranquilized really.

Like an animal.

Like something dangerous.