"Bella – ", he began softly, but she knew he would never finish the two syllable sentence that was so loaded with emotion.
"I know," she whispered, "I know," and her fingers tightened around his hand, subconsciously caressing the chemically-scarred indentations on his palm, for the briefest of moments before she let go and disappeared from the room without looking back.
Abraham Erskine knew Annabel Freidman understood the words that remained unspoken. The words that neither of them had ever dared to say aloud. The words he should have said twelve years ago, when he had first realised. It hadn't been the right time, though, and back then he had never been entirely sure that she'd felt the same way. He'd never been very good at reading the signs where the fairer sex was concerned. Bella had been so young, and they'd both been so focused on and passionate about developing the Super Soldier Serum that they had simply missed the years creeping by, and then all of a sudden they'd been a decade older, and still just as involved with the project as ever.
She'd been out of the laboratory on an errand when Nazi officer Johann Schmidt had come calling. Erskine was thankful for that. The head of HYDRA, Hitler's research division, had been gently persuasive at first, then he'd adopted an attitude of superiority, and finally Erskine had been forced to watch all his other colleagues either die or be roughly taken prisoner as he systematically refused to disclose the secrets only he knew – the formula of the serum. Even with the revolver pointing at his own head, he had denied Schmidt the knowledge he desired.
Schmidt had ignored the scientist's urgent protests that the serum wasn't ready yet, intent on becoming the first of a new breed of super soldier. He'd injected himself with the prototype as a horrified Erskine looked on, the guilt overwhelming as he watched Schmidt transform.
It had worked, to an extent, enough to warrant the horribly disfigured Schmidt keeping Erskine alive, if imprisoned. A secret Jewish organisation with strong connections to Strategic Scientific Reserve agent Peggy Carter had rescued the doctor from the safe house in which he was being held, smuggled him to the docks, and it was there he discovered he probably hadn't been alone in his feelings. Bella was waiting for him, her face pale, skin taut over drawn features, eyes hollow and ringed black by exhaustion and fear. She threw herself into his arms the moment she saw him, and Agent Carter explained that Bella had managed to get word to them as to what had occurred. The two of them escaped the fatherland together, heading towards asylum in America.
Their journey across the Atlantic had been a nerve-wracking one, filled with nightmares of both the psychological and physical types. Bella had become sick, so sick that the ship's captain had been forced to isolate her in the very lowest berth the vessel had to offer, and it had fallen to Erskine to treat her when even the company's doctor wouldn't go near her. The scientist had cooled her down, wiped away miserable tears, calmed her incoherent rages, fought her through her violent delirium, held her when she sobbed at her sudden frailty, and when he finally pronounced her well again, with nothing else to distract them from each other, they had shared their first kiss, a kiss that had been long-awaited and eagerly anticipated, judging by the length and the intensity of it. He should have told her then, but again, it hadn't seemed to be the right time, with both of them having been so close to death. Looking back, Erskine realised that there had probably never been a more perfect time, and he kicked himself mentally over and over again for not voicing that which he should have said.
There were many more kisses after that. When the pair made it to America, and were settled in their new research facility, there were lots of late nights and early mornings where they found themselves alone in the lab, sometimes by design, but mostly just because they were both so dedicated to finding a way to stop Johann Schmidt's reign of terror. There were the gentle but thorough kisses when something hadn't gone the way they had expected during their experiments with the new serum, when they each felt the all-too-familiar ache of disappointment, the ones that would mask the knowledge that they had failed again, that another route had been exhausted. And then there had been those kisses that were heated and desperate and all-consuming. The ones that had almost always ended in them going so much farther than they should have done, often as far as the ultimate act. Being unmarried, he knew they shouldn't have done such things, but it seemed that they had silently pledged themselves to one another, so he tried to push it to the back of his mind.
Tomorrow, he decided. Whatever the outcome of their lives' work, tomorrow he would say those words out loud. It was time, and she deserved to know.
Bella didn't stay that evening. Later he would come to wish that she had. That she'd sashayed in to see him before she left, perched on the edge of his desk like usual, her slender legs in their sheer stockings stretched temptingly out in front of her, spoken in that low voice about the progress they had made that day, maybe cupped his cheek so he could press his face against her palm for a few moments. That evening, however, he barely noticed her departure, so intent was he on visiting Steven Rogers in his barracks before the big event that was to take place the following day.
The frail, determined boy from Brooklyn was nervous, that much was clear. It was natural, Erskine supposed - he was terrified himself. Steven could easily die, or worse, during this procedure and Erskine wasn't sure he could handle the burden of another madman like Schmidt terrorizing the world. The young soldier asked Erskine only one question: Why had he had chosen him? The scientist explained all about Hitler and Schmidt, about the latter's desire for the power he believed was contained within the earth, left by the gods; that experience had told him that the serum amplified everything within a person; that sometimes people had to look beyond the physical and into the soul to see greatness; that he had selected Steven because he understood the value of strength and would never underestimate it.
"Thanks. I think." Steve Rogers gave a small but wry smile, and the doctor indicated the two glasses he had placed on the private's foot locker when he'd entered the room.
"Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing: That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man."
Steve thought for a moment.
"To the little guys."
Erskine chuckled briefly and then dived forward as Steve raised the glass to his lips.
"No, no, wait, what are you doing? You have a procedure tomorrow. No fluids." He tipped the contents of Steve's glass into his own.
"Okay, we'll drink it after."
"No, I don't have a procedure tomorrow. Drink it after? I drink it now." And he swallowed down the two shots of Schnapps in one gulp whilst Steve smiled on.
The only thing Bella did, when she entered his office the next morning, was straighten his tie and smooth down his lapels, to ensure he was presentable for all the important people that would be attending that day. She herself was already wearing the white nurse's dress and cap she was required to wear. The powers that were didn't want it to appear that a woman had too much control over the proceedings. She had been irritated about it but she had consented without comment, understanding without being told that if she wanted to be present, it was the sacrifice she would have to make.
Despite his jittery preoccupation with the forthcoming procedure, and the fact that his door was wide open, Erskine pulled her into his arms for a long moment, resting against her, feeling the steady thudding of her heart just below his own. She was his staunchest supporter, this woman. In fact, he thought at times that she had more faith in his abilities than he did himself. He just hoped he wasn't going to disappoint her.
"Thankyou," he murmured.
"For what?" She pulled back a little so she could see his face.
"For believing."
She kissed him tenderly on the mouth before she left, her touch somehow both firm and light at the same time, and she glanced back at him with a reassuring smile before stepping into the bustling corridor.
She was deep in conversation with their smooth-talking colleague Howard Stark when he saw her next, simultaneously dishing out softly spoken orders to the two young nurses who would be in attendance throughout the procedure. Everyone obeyed her instructions without hesitation now. There had been incidents, shortly after they'd arrived in the States, wherein several male orderlies had taken to openly ignoring her polite commands. She never said anything about it to him, but Erskine had been incensed by the disrespect when he watched one of the men talk right over her, and the doctor had immediately gathered every single member of his new research team into the laboratory and stated, in no uncertain terms, that any order uttered by Miss Freidman was exactly the same as an order from himself, and was to be followed without question. His own feelings for Bella aside, she had been with him too long and through too much to go unheeded, especially by people whose loyalty, he suspected, would only go so far.
An anticipatory stillness fell over the hushed room as two figures appeared on the stairwell. Peggy Carter escorting Steven Rogers to his date with the Super Soldier Serum.
Erskine, file in hand, greeted the private serenely enough, but the curtness of his tone when he addressed the army photographer who was wielding his state-of-the-art camera in their direction, belied his own anxiety. The man backed away swiftly.
"Are you ready?"
Steve nodded, glancing at the pod in the centre of the room.
"Good. Take off your shirt, your tie and your hat."
In front of Peggy Carter, who had accompanied him down the stairs and was standing beside him like an expectant mother, Steve hesitated for a moment but then he complied, striping down to his too-big trousers and clambering up into the horizontal pod, wriggling a little to settle himself in.
"Comfortable?" Erskine asked, appearing at his side.
"It's a little big."
The scientist gave a little laugh, and then his expression turned serious once again as Steve asked: "Did you save me any of that Schnapps?"
"Not as much as I should have done. Sorry. Next time. Mr. Stark? How are your levels?"
"Levels at one hundred percent." Howard Stark, the inventor of pretty much every piece of equipment they were going to be using, strode purposefully towards the open pod, determined to meet their test subject before beginning their experiment. It was a big day for him too. "We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we are ready... As we'll ever be," he finished, a little hint of uncertainty in the sideways look he gave.
Steve breathed in deeply, his chest hollowing concerningly.
"Agent Carter, don't you think you would be more comfortable in the roof?" Erskine prompted.
Caught offguard, Peggy stuttered her agreement and headed for the metal staircase, but Erskine caught her glance back over her shoulder to gaze at Steve Rogers reassuringly. The private watched her go with the same expression that Erskine had often seen men using around her, probably the one he used himself sometimes, when he was watching Bella.
Someone handed him the microphone, and he flicked it a couple of times, muttering, "Can you hear me? Is this on?"
Everyone in the gallery winced a little as they turned towards the large viewing windows that overlooked the laboratory. Chester Phillips, the colonel who had been openly opposed to Erskine choosing Steve Rogers for this procedure, stood with the Senator, and behind them was a group of various diplomats, scientists and army personnel, all of whom were, to say the least, skeptical that the doctor would pull this experiment off.
"Ladies and gentlemen, today we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first step on the path to peace." A case filled with phials of blue liquid was wheeled up to the pod as Erskine continued: "We begin with a series of micro-injections into the subject's major muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change, and then, to stimulate growth, the subject will be saturated with Vita rays."
Erskine laid down the microphone, and stepped back to Steve's side as one of the nurse's slipped a needle into his arm.
"That wasn't so bad," Steve said, surprise and relief both clear in his voice.
"That was penicillin," Erskine explained, trying to ignore the sudden look of panic in the soldier's blue eyes, and then the scientist sucked in a breath. "Serum infusion beginning in 5..." everyone watching inhaled. "4..." six combined clicks told him the needles were ready. "3... 2..." he pressed his fingers encouragingly against Steve's shoulder, caught Bella's intent stare. "1."
Levers were eased forward, buttons were pressed, dials whirred, the serum drained from their phials, Steve's muscles began to quiver, he grimaced and then his eyes, previously squeezed shut, flew open wide enough to show the whites all the way round.
"Now, Mr. Stark," Erskine instructed.
Bella stood behind the machines, watching both the heart rate monitor that Steve was attached to and Erskine's face as Stark pulled down the simple lever that would bring the experiment pod up into a vertical position. Everyone took a few steps back as it slowly began to rise and seal Steve inside. Two orderlies then secured the thick tubes, down which the Vita rays would travel, to the pod, and then Erskine climbed the short ladder to peer inside. He rapped on the front window.
"Steven, can you hear me?"
"Probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?" the soldier quipped, as much to reassure Erskine as himself.
It had the desired effect. It made the scientist grin briefly, and then he turned away. "We will proceed," he directed.
Howard Stark pulled down his protective eyewear, grasped the wheel in front of him firmly, and began to twist it slowly.
As the percentage of Vita rays in the pod began to build up, those without protective eyewear shielded their vulnerable eyes from the almost blinding light, and a voice called out, "Vital signs are normal!"
Beyond the sounds of the machines, everything was quiet until they hit seventy percent, and then a loud, lengthy groan of agony began emitting from the metal chamber, gradually turning into something that bordered on a scream.
"Steven?" Erskine darted up the ladder, hammering on the glass with his fist. "Steven?"
"Shut it down!" yelled a female voice from the balcony overhead.
Erskine looked torn, for the briefest of moments, and then realisation kicked in and he started hollering at Stark to kill the reactors.
"No! Don't! I can do this!" Steve's voice rang out strong around the room. Erskine didn't need prompting twice. He glanced back at Stark who grabbed the wheel again and eased it round, further, further, further.
"That's one hundred percent!"
Machines sparked, whirled violently, little pops turned into loud bangs, and then there was silence as everything stopped in the exact same second. Bella wasn't watching the pod though, she was counting the barrage of emotions that were racing across her mentor's face. Please let it have worked right this time, she pleaded silently.
"Mr. Stark," Erskine growled.
The heavy doors of the pod swung open, the head hatch lifted, and Bella exhaled as she saw the figure within. Looking broader and particularly taller than he had when he'd laid inside, Steve Rogers now appeared to be the ultimate Super Soldier.
"Steven?" Erskine and Stark hurried forwards to assist the private from the pod, supporting him between them for his first unsteady steps.
"You did it!" Stark muttered, as the crowd began to descend.
"Yes, I think we did," Erskine smiled.
"You actually did it."
Peggy Carter appeared, unable to drop her gaze from the sudden toned physique in front of her. "How do you feel?"
Steve looked around.
"Taller," he gasped.
The agent snatched the t-shirt from the starstruck blonde nurse hovering at Steve's left side, and breathlessly confirmed that he looked taller.
Erskine caught Bella's eyes and their gazes interlocked for the briefest of moments, until the Senator stepped between them in order to congratulate the scientist on his astonishing feat, but it was long enough for Erskine to see the pride and the happiness radiating from her face, and all he suddenly wanted to do was lead her away to the seclusion of his office and tell her all the things he should have explained so many times over, but alas, it would have to wait just a little longer...
Bella didn't even have time to properly take in the events that ensued. One moment Erskine was smiling and chatting animatedly and then the viewing gallery exploded, the windows shattering onto the laboratory floor below, showering those gathered there with shards of glass.
Erskine was the first on his feet again, his horrified stare fixed on a tall, black haired man in a dove-grey suit who was reaching for the remaining phial of blue liquid. "Stop him!" the doctor shouted urgently.
Two shots echoed around the room, one of the nurses screamed, and the next moment, the doctor was falling forwards, and it took Bella a few seconds to realise that it must have been him who had been on the receiving end of those gunshots.
She saw Steve Rogers dart forwards, and then she was running, too, stumbling her way through the motionless group crowding around the stricken scientist, shoving the private aside as she threw herself onto her knees, barely feeling the glass embedding itself into her legs. One look at Erskine's bloody chest was enough to tell her that the wounds were fatal, but she ripped off the lab coat of the orderly next to her anyway and pushed it hard against the doctor, pressing harder and harder as his shredded heart pumped his life away, staining the pristine white coat a glossy red.
Her eyes snapped around frantically, calling out for someone to help her. Steve and Peggy had disappeared, and everyone who remained was just gazing at her sorrowfully. They knew, she realised. They all knew. That he was dying. That she was losing the man she loved.
Rough fingers caught her hand and stilled it, those dark brown eyes that she knew so well - the one constant in her life these past twelve years - stared up at her, stopping her ministrations with that single look.
"Bella..."
"I know, I know," she murmured in their native language. "Save your breath, you need to rest."
"No, listen!" he breathed. "I love you. I've always loved you, ever since that first night in Augsburg. I should have told you before, many years ago, but there never seemed to be a right time. And now it's too late, but I needed you to know you always had my heart." Erskine sucked in another, far shallower breath, and he gasped to continue: "Study Steven, learn from him. You, and you alone, know the basis of the formula for the serum. Continue that which we started, Bella. And be happy."
"Abe, no, please... I can't do it on my own, I need you. Please..."
A tear trickled over her cheekbone, one and then another, and another, landing in the coarse fuzz of the beard that would never become any greyer, rolling down onto his face, as she sank over him, burying her face against his shoulder, unable to believe it had come to this.
Why had she never told him before? Why had she waited until now, when it was too late?
"I loved you, from almost that very first moment. And forevermore."
He gave her a little smile, and slowly, painfully, dragged his hand, still clutching her fingers, up to his lips and pressed a tender kiss on the inside of her wrist, and when she realised what that small gesture was, she fell apart: It was the last kiss he would ever give her.
"How do you bear it?"
Agent Peggy Carter stood ramrod straight, her dark eyes bright, her chin tilted defiantly upwards, her scarlet lips set in a straight line that she desperately trying to keep firm.
"I don't." A soft, husky voice beside her answered without turning to look at her. "I just carry on... As you must."
Peggy risked a surreptitious glance down and across at her companion. Bella Freidman was poised in much the same way as the agent herself was, except she had her hands crossed in front of her body as opposed to behind. The pair, despite the generation gap, had grown ever closer in the past few months, but Peggy had never dared ask Bella that question until now. Because now she really needed to know how Bella continued to be so productive and calm in the face of the tragedy that had befallen her.
"Sometimes I think I hate him," she whispered, facing forwards again, not wanting to see the disgust in the older woman's face. There was silence for a long moment.
"I hated Abraham for a long time," Bella admitted eventually. "I hated him for succeeding again. I hated him for succeeding the first time. I hated him for not giving Schmidt the formula. And I hated him for dying and leaving me with the burden of starting all over again."
"Does it pass?"
Finally Bella turned to gaze at her friend, her warm brown eyes dull and clearly still filled with the pain she couldn't usually openly share.
"To an extent, yes. I still hate him for leaving sometimes, even though I know it wasn't his fault."
"Do you still love him?"
There was no hesitation in Bella's answer. "Yes. And I think I always will."
"I know it's not the same, but I think I'll always love Steve, too," Peggy murmured.
"You will," Bella replied knowingly. "He was your first love. You'll always remember that last kiss."