Chapter 1
Earth 327 – HYDRA Laboratory: Morpheus, September 17th, 1944
Maxwell Eisenhardt crouched in his cage. The sounds of fighting had been echoing through the building for nearly twenty minutes and he wanted to be ready. His container was entirely made of glass and the room he was held in was a solid concrete slab. But he could feel the pieces of reinforcing metal buried under the hard floors and in the walls. He’d been pulling on them for months, stretching his abilities and trying not to be caught. He shuddered when he remembered what they’d done last time he’d been caught.
Schmidt and Essex were not kind, but they certainly placed a certain value on the scrawny boy of fourteen. They wanted his power and even when he used to against them, they seemed to delight over their new data points. On days when either of these two visited he could push at the boundaries. But Baron von Strucker was not a scientist and had little patience for insurrection. The man had used a sonic concussive device on Maxwell for his first outburst and had called in other prisoners to be executed just outside the boy’s cell on the second. Eisenhardt couldn’t act out when none of the three were present because when he did one of them would inevitably arrive, and if it was Strucker then more would be shot and left for their blood to pool on the concrete.
But this was different. Maxwell had heard shouting, and even the sounds of killing filtering under the door and through the air-holes in his glass box, but never fighting. He closed his eyes and reached deep into the concrete, feeling for the bars of steel. The sound of something metal clashing against the walls reached his ears and he smiled grimly.
When the body of a HYDRA soldier came crashing through the heavy wooden door, Maxwell’s breath caught in his throat as tall man in red, white, and blue stepped through the doorway holding a round metal shield with a star emblazoned in the center. He reached out with his mind and to his further surprise found the shield would not respond to his powers.
The man’s eyes hardened as he surveyed the room.
“Can you hear me in there?” He spoke loudly and firmly, but with a sort of calm. Maxwell nodded silently.
“Have you seen how they open this thing?” The man asked as his fingers searched out the surface of the glass box. He’s going to let me out, Maxwell thought.
“They built this cage vith me already inside,” the boy answered swallowing hard as the memories began to flow.
He remembered being in shock on the day his mother died. He remembered the man with red skin who looked like his face had been burned away with gas, and the sound of his disapproval as he murdered Maxwell’s mother. He remembered her blood on the floor and the coin he had failed to move. He could still feel his knees dragging on the concrete as they threw him into the partially assembled glass box, and the smell of the adhesive as they bonded the final wall in place, leaving only a few holes for air, a slot to pass barely edible sludge through, a hole for him to stick his arm out of when the scientists wanted his blood.
“How long have you been in there?” The man with the shield was still running his fingers over the glass, as if trying to find something. Maxwell did not know how to say he did not know. The room had no windows, only oil-burning lights in stone containers, and the scientists all wore uniforms which covered their whole bodies. None of the underlings spoke to him, and the visits of Schmidt or one of the others were rare.
The boy shook his head helplessly and the man’s features hardened. In as calm a voice as he could manage, he said, “Okay. I’m going to break this wall; I need you to go to the far back corner and curl up into a ball with your back towards me. Cover your head and neck with your arms. Do you understand?”
“Ja,” Maxwell answered, and he did as instructed. His eyes screwed shut, he only jerked a little when the sound of glass shattering pierced his ears. He felt some of the shards graze his back and right side, and a sharp pain bury itself into the back of his left hand.
“It’s okay son. I’ve got you.” The other sensations disappeared as Maxwell felt a hand touch his shoulder. Before he could even properly turn around the man had lifted him up and was carrying him with one arm like he weighed nothing, his shield attached firmly to his other hand.
“Buck?” the man said firmly as he pulled a radio from his belt.
“Yeah Steve?” another American voice answered with static and gunfire in the background.
“I found something,” Steve glanced down at the boy in his arms. “They had a kid in a glass box.
“Well, aren’t you lucky. We got a big room full of glass tubes and vats of some kind of sludge I don’t want to know more about. This Essex guy is a real nut job.”
“Tell me about it,” Steve answered grimly. Maxwell saw a shape move out of the corner of his eye and turned in time to see the HYDRA soldier round the corner with his weapon leveled at Steve. The muzzle of his weapon flared as the American spun away too slow, hoping to catch the bullets in his back and protect the child.
But the rounds never hit. Max’s hand outstretched, his fingers curled as if he could strangle the air, the bullets blasted backwards as the metal of the soldier’s helmet and body armor crushed inwards, leaving him in a crumpled bloody heap on the floor.
Steve regarded the mutilated corpse on the floor before looking at Max again. “What did they do to you?”
“They took everyzing from me. Exzept this,” Max answered, unable to keep the hate from his voice as he lifted his hand.
“You had those abilities before? You didn’t get them from an experiment?”
“No. The experiments vere meant to steal this from me,” Max answered.
Steve grabbed his radio again and called again. “Bucky be careful, the kid had special powers. He said they were trying to steal his powers, and my bet is he’s not their only guineapig. Fall back to foyer until I can regroup with you.”
“I’ll send the boys back to secure the perimeter, but there’s a lot here Steve. It’s gonna take a minute for me to get through it.”
“I really think we should meet back up before we try and dive any deeper Buck. Something’s not right.” Worry was stamped on the captain’s brow as he started out of the room, Max still held comfortably with one arm.
“Don’t you worry about me Cap; I can handle myself.”
Steve sighed as he rounded a corner and made for a set of stairs leading down. “I know partner. Just don’t do anything stupid ‘till I get there.”
“How can I? You’ve got all the stupid with you.”
Steve chuckled slightly as he replaced his radio on his belt.
Max found himself suddenly growing tired, the months of experiments and use of his powers draining him and allowed himself to slip into unconsciousness.
***
Bucky’s boot clipped against the polished tile floor of the lab, echoing ominously around the room. The ceiling was nearly fifteen feet up and the dim lights made him feel like he was buried in some ancient cavern.
Or a tomb, he thought checking the safety on his rifle again. Steve’s right. This whole place just feels wrong. There were more than a dozen enormous tubes full of pale blue liquid which stretched from floor to ceiling, with smaller tubes and wires attached to either the floor or ceiling floating inside. Based on the kid Steve had found, and the whole ‘create a race of superior men’ Nazi bullshit, Bucky had a sneaking suspicion that until recently the tanks had contained people.
He shuddered as he looked over his shoulder at Dum Dum and Jacques while they tried to break into the file safe under the single desk set in the center of the lab.
“Hey Steve,” he called through his radio. “You might wanna double time it pal, this place is giving me the willies.”
“Copy that,” Steve’s voice crackled through the radio.
Bucky’s hand was halfway down to replace his walkie on his belt when he heard the snarl above him. Without thinking he lunged to the side rolling up and leveling his rifle at a man wearing black body armor and a mask covering the lower portion of his face. A red HYDRA symbol sat in the center of his chest.
A man with three bone claws protruding from the ends of his fists.
“Contact!” The word tore from Bucky’s throat as he squeezed the trigger. The other two Howling Commandos behind him spun and opened fire, but the man didn’t even try to dodge. He walked forward through the barrage of gunfire like the rounds were drops of rain, the bullet holes torn through his clothes showing his flesh knitting itself back together as if by magic. The man snarled again and lunged.
“Go! Go! Go!” Bucky screamed waving for his comrades to get back to the door as he tried to block the monsters bone claws with his rifle. The claws tore through the weapon, narrowing missing Bucky’s neck as he spun away sprinting towards the exit. The other Commandos were at the door calling for him when he felt a searing pain rake across his back.
Bucky collapsed on the floor, as he heard the clawed man snarling over him.
“Seal the door!” He shouted as he rolled to the right and threw his best haymaker at the monster. With a savage growl the clawed man separated Bucky’s arm from his body. The pain burned worse than anything the American could have ever imagined. The points of the monster’s claws dug into his ribs, and he spat blood out onto the clawed man’s chest.
Bucky’s vision flickered as he gasped for air. The shouts of his comrades faded into murmurs as his world turned to darkness.
***
Steve handed the kid off to Juniper when he heard the gunfire down the hallway and knew something had gone wrong. He heard the frantic calls for help over his radio as he sprinted down the stairs and rounded the corner just in time to see a man in black with bone claws lunging at Dum Dum and Jacques. Without thinking his shield flew off his arm colliding with the monster midair and sending him careening backwards.
Without even seeming to register the hit, the monster spun and charged in again, his claws swiping viciously towards the captain. Steve stepped into the arc of the swing, catching the man’s arms against his guard and slamming his forehead against the monster’s nose, feeling it break under the impact.
The monster almost seemed to laugh.
The two battered away at eachother, claws clashing against shield as Steve used every trick he could think of the knock down the unstoppable monster. A broken knee bent itself back into shape, cracked ribs fused back together, and when a particularly vicious right hook dislocated the monster’s mask and jaw, he simply cracked back into place and waded back into the fray snarling.
Finally, the clawed man found an opening, one of his vicious slashing attacks snaking through the Captain’s guard and gauging his side. Grunting in pain Steve planted a hard heel kick into his enemy’s chest, feeling the sternum break but knowing it wouldn’t make a difference.
“Cap! Grenade!”
The call came from behind him. Junior had followed him down the stairs and shouted the warning for him to dodge out of the way like they’d done a hundred times before. But Steve had another idea. The grenade bounced once on the floor when Steve scooped low and caught it, counting seconds in his head.
When the monster came rushing back snarling with fury, Steve shoved the grenade as deeply in the clawed man’s mouth as he could manage. Throwing his shield up just in time the blast sent him sprawling backwards. Bits of blood and bone splattered across the room as the monster was thrown backwards, his torso split into a V-shape. Tw of the nearest canisters shattered spilling blue fluid on the concrete floor.
Steve shook the ringing out of his ears and tried to stand, feeling a sharp pain in his leg from a loose piece of shrapnel.
“Holy Shit Cap,” Junior said running up. “That was a crazy stunt you just pulled.”
“Where’s Bucky?” Steve asked ignoring the commando’s comment as he scanned the faces of his other two comrades.
Dugan’s face fell as he motioned across the room.
Steve felt his heart drop when he saw the bloody mess of his friend lying limp on the tile. Jacques said something but all he heard was distant murmuring as he pushed himself towards the mutilated body of his partner. The twenty feet between them felt like miles as time seemed to slow down. He moved closer, inch by inch, begging to see any sign of a breath. He was only a few feet away.
He never reached Bucky. Steve was thrown bodily aside as a set of bone claws dug deep lines into his face.
The monster stood, his shoulders still knitting themselves back to his torso, his bare skin revealed under the tattered and burned away remnants of his uniform. He smiled, and when he spoke it was more growl than words.
“Nice trick bub. Hope you have another one.”
Bullets blasted through the air into the monster, but he ignored them completely, his eyes fixed firmly on the man with the shield who might provide him a worthy challenge.
Steve felt his leg betray him as he rolled away, barely bringing his shield up in time to block the barrage of strikes. Before the monster had been clawing wildly, but now he was picking his strikes, forcing Steve to work his defenses high and then low, inside and outside, and leaving no room for a counterattack.
Gritting his teeth, the captain forced his leg to take the extra weight as he fought for an opening. The Monster seemed almost disappointed at the resistance he found. Letting a disgruntled sigh slip from his mouth, he swung low and then high, aiming to decapitate the captain. Steve saw the combo coming and threw his head back dodging the strike but losing sight of the creature’s other hand for just a moment.
A moment long enough for his claws to bury themselves deep into Steve’s other leg. Sensing his victory was near the creature let loose one last savage snarl before moving in for the kill.
A twisted piece of metal bar from one of the broken tanks flew up as if on its own and wrapped around the monster’s arm. Roaring in fury he tried to twist his other arm and tear the captain’s leg off, but another piece of metal had already flown like a dagger and pierced the creature’s chest, throwing him backwards.
Max gritted his teeth as he fought back the wave of nausea that always came with overusing his powers. One hand was outstretched holding the creature at bay while the other gathered up bits of shrapnel from around the room and barraged the creature like hundreds of razors.
His vision fluttered in and out of focus and his hold on the monster seemed to weaken. The creature panted eagerly, not wanting to be deprived of his kill.
“Dugan!”
Steve had pushed himself up to his knees and had his hand outstretched. “Your bandolier!”
The Howling Commando immediately unslung his bandolier of grenades and tossed it across the room. His hand closing around the leather strap Steve pulled the pin on the first grenade and threw the entire loop across the room at the base of a support pillar.
Grunting with effort he lunged forward tacking Max to the ground and throwing his shield over both of them only moments before the colossal explosion rocked the building and sent tons of concrete falling on top of the monster and his enemies.
***
When Steve hadn’t checked in on time ago Peggy had known something was wrong. An hour later their scouts had reported an unexplained explosion inside the Hydra base the commandos had been assaulting. An hour after that they’d received confirmation that the Commandos had taken casualties and were headed back to base on foot to avoid attention.
The word ‘casualties’ had made Peggy’s heart drop. They couldn’t say which commandos had fallen for fear of their transmissions being intercepted. She thought about ‘the boys’ as she’d come to call them and what she might say in a letter home to their families. It helped to be prepared. Dum Dum and Jacques didn’t have any family left, they’d lost everyone in the war, but everyone else had at least one living parent. She thought Pinky might even had a few children somewhere in the world, but whether his record would say how to reach them she had no idea.
Two hours after their last transmission they crossed over into friendly territory and were able to give more specific details and radio for pickup.
“Heavy Casualties. Sgt. James B. Barnes and Cpl. Johnathon Juniper KIA. Cpt. Steven G. Rogers, Cpl. Timothy A. Dugan, and Operative Jacques Dernier sustained heavy injuries. One rescued prisoner.”
Peggy closed her eyes and let out a shaky sigh as the voice over the radio read out the names. Steve was alive. She had believed he would be, couldn’t have even contemplated that he might not return. He had returned from dozens of missions with little more than a dirty uniform but still she had worried. She wondered what kind of weapon could have been hiding in the depths of the small Hydra lab they’d picked up on scans.
She didn’t think about Bucky or Junior. She couldn’t let the grief of the lost creep in until she could see with her own eyes that the others were safe. She locked her sorrow and relief in a little box in the back of her mind. She would open it in time, but for now she would wait until her boys came back to camp.
The rescued prisoner was an anomaly she did not have the emotional bandwidth to consider fully, although she did think it was odd that there would be only one.
Nearly three hours later when the truck rolled to a stop in front of the medical tent, she had to restrain the urge to push the soldiers who’d come to look out of her way. Shouldering her way to the front of the small crowd, her breath caught when she saw them. One stretcher lay deathly still with a canvas cloth stretched over the top. Dum Dum had been stripped to his waist and had hastily wrapped bandages covering most of his chest. The splint on Jacques’ leg moved as they helped him out of the truck, making him wince in pain.
But most striking was Steve, the one who went barreling into danger and always came out on top. He was sitting against the back of truck with his eyes fixed on some invisible point just below the horizon. Both his legs were heavily bandaged, and blood soaked his uniform.
Peggy walked forward though he didn’t seem to notice until she was standing right in front of him.
“Steve?”
His eyes flickered back to the present as he looked up at her. “Peggy I-” he began. Whatever words were coming next didn’t come as his bright blue eyes spilled over with tears. Peggy reached down and helped to captain up.
“It’s alright Steve. Lean on me, I’ll get you to the docs. They’ll fix you right up.”
Steve shook his head no. “No Peg…we’ve got to talk. About…about Bucky…and the kid.”
“The prisoner?” Peggy shouldn’t have been surprised. Even injured and bearing the death of his partner Steve was still looking out for everyone else first. “I’m sure the medics will see to him as appropriate.”
“Agent Carter.” Peggy turned her head to see Dum Dum pulling away from the soldier helping him towards the tent. “You’ll pardon my saying but you need to hear what he has to say.”
“There will be plenty of time-”
“No, it has to be now,” Steve said as he shook his head. “It’s important Peggy.”
The British agent regarded the two men for a moment before nodding her head towards a supply tent.