Gotham City
12/11/1943
0004

Bruce Wayne stepped in to his house and tripped over. He looked back at what had tripped him up and realized that it was bags. He wondered why they were there, it wasn't Alfred's vacation time yet. He also wondered where Alfred was. It wasn't like him to not have greeted him in the first five minutes.

Bruce got up and looked inside the bags. They were his, with his clothes in them. This just brought up more questions. Why was he leaving? Why hadn't Alfred been here too explain about this? There were too many.

Bruce heard footsteps and spun around, expecting a burglar, but it was just Alfred walking up from his room.

"Sorry Master Bruce, I was having a shower." Alfred apologized.

"No Alfred, there's nothing to apologize for," replied Bruce, "but could you please enlighten me on the situation?" He asked while pointing at the bags.

"You're going to New York Master Bruce, your going to join the army."

New York City
Brooklyn
1009

"Bruce Wayne, I'd like you meet Steve Rodgers." Nick Fury said as he stepped aside and let Bruce see Steve for the first time.

He was a small man with little to no muscle on his body, he had gold and blue eyes with slightly, slightly tanned skin.

"Mr Wayne, I've heard a lot about you." Said Steve, offering his hand. Bruce shook it and turned to Fury.

"And you want us as 'lab rats'." Bruce said accusingly.

"Well no Bruce, we..."

"Cut the crap Fury," Bruce interrupted, "I've read the files, this has been tested on one other man, and he's now crazy."

Bruce and Fury glared at each other.

"But I'm willing to help." Bruce conceded.

1329

"-and then you will bathed in vita-rays to keep you alive." Explained Abraham Erskine.

Bruce and Steve looked at each-other warily, the process sounded pretty horrible and the machines looked like something out of a horror movie. It was big and grey with a small screen for the face and it wrapped around you to stop you from moving during the experiment.

"So we go in there like us, and come out like some sort of... Superman." Steve guessed.

"You could say that." Erskine confirmed.

1530

"Welcome boys, to your first day as super soldiers." Abraham greeted as they re-entered the room that they had been in 2 hours earlier.

It was now full of scientists and soldiers as well as the mayor of Mayor of Brooklyn, Carl Brogan and the mayor of Gotham City, Paul Gianotelli.

Two other official men were there, one was army general, Alan Wilson and his squad leader commander Jacob Quinzell, the leaders of the soon to be Super Squad. Steve and Bruce were greeted by Howard Stark and Barry Allen, two of the smartest minds in America.

"Hey guys, you ready to go, because Quinzell is getting upset and boy does he have a temper." Joked Barry in a small voice, not wanting to invoke the temper that he just spoke of.

"No guys, we will start when you're ready." Howard reassured the men but they had steeled themselves, they were ready.

1535

Steve and Bruce shook hands and wished each other good luck as they stepped inside the machines. Howard asked if they could hear him and if he could hear them. They both called out ready and Howard gave the thumbs up to Allen.
Howard and Allen began to push levers too increase the power going into the machines.

"30 percent..." Howard called, "40 percent... 60 perc... Wait no, no, no, no. STOP THE PROCESS."

Bruce Wayne's machine was smoking and shaking as the power build got to much. Howard tried to stop the power but it was too late, Bruce's machine blew apart. Pieces flew everywhere and the energy from Bruce's machine transferred to Steve's, pumping him with 120 percent of the energy.

Howard and Allen approached Bruce's machine as the smoke cleared. They saw a small movement and rushed towards it.

A couple of seconds later they pulled a muscly Bruce Wayne out of the smoke. He was unconscious but alive. At the same time Steve Rodgers emerged from his machine, tall, muscly and overall super.

Everybody was swept up in the moment and no-one noticed the Abraham Erskine, the man behind the serum, lying dead on the floor with a bullet wound in his chest.