The 3rd Experiment

Chapter 29

|New York City, New York|
|Thursday, May 24, 2012|

"What are you doing up so early?" I ask, lifting my head off the pillow to look at Steve.

I glance at the watch on my nightstand and notice that it's only 4:30 in the morning. Steve is putting on his shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed. He's already dressed and he seems like he's been up for a while.

"I was gonna go for a run. Just go back to sleep." He says, walking to my side and brushing the hair out of my face.

"Wait, no, I'll come with you." I put my hand on his and move it from my face.

He smiles at me and walks out into the kitchen, leaving me to get ready.

We leave the apartment by 4:50, both with a buttered bagel in hand. We head to Central Park and run the whole thing in about 45 minutes, getting quite a few stares from the other people walking and running the trail.

As a kid, I never would've thought about running or walking around the park. It always seemed like way too much exercise and not worth the exertion. Not to mention, it would probably have taken me 4 hours.

But I'm not that person anymore. Steve and I run at a tigers pace which is exhilarating when in practice but a little demoralizing after the fact because I have to remind myself that I'm human. Not only that but I'm 94 years old.

We leave the park, still with plenty of the day left. Heading home to make a real breakfast, now that I've taken over doing the grocery shopping. 

I push the door open and head straight to the shower, ready to rid myself of my sweaty layer.

Steve pulls out our 60-count eggs and starts scrambling.

The shower always feels so unnatural, the controls have changed and the water pressure is so much stronger than what I was used to in the 30s.

I spend the whole shower avoiding looking at my body. I never really had the chance to get used to the way I looked after the serum and now all I can think of is how I was weaponized because of my strength. Not to mention, every time I take off a layer of clothes, I seem to find a new mystery scar. A gunshot wound, a stab wound, my star branding.

It's just not the most fun experience, especially when I'm trying so hard to move on from that.

Steve and I sit and talk while we eat, always finding something to talk about. Whenever I need a reminder of how life was before all of this, I talk with Steve. We've always been able to fall into conversations easily and make them last hours if we're not stopped.

Eventually, we finish up, washing the dishes. And we head out to the Avengers building, formally known as Stark Tower.

***

I head to the gym, looking for Natasha on the way. I've been training with her so I can keep using my skills and my strength, in hopes that I can one day use it for good.

"Hey, kid, come here, I wanna show you something," Tony calls out, tapping my arm to get my attention.

He walks me to the closet, the first time he's allowed me in here.

It's a large room, every wall covered in shelves and drawers. There are four spots that take up the size of a kitchen cupboard but they're open. There's a bright museum light shining down on the contents of these cupboards.

One holds a star-spangled suit, hung on a mannequin. Even without Steve in it, it looks so stoic and brave. Another cubby holds a purple and black suit, the one Clint wears. The two that are further back hold all-black suits, each with slightly different aspects.

"This one is yours." Tony says, walking over to the one on the wall next to Steve's.

"What?" I ask, walking up to the suit, "What do you mean?"

"I thought maybe it was time you got your own."

"You think I'm ready?"

"I think you're more than ready, Rebecca."

I reach out to touch it and notice all the little details. The torso has ribbing which makes the material stretchy and temperature controlled. The sleeves go all the way down to my thumbs, helping to conceal my biggest physical weakness, my fingers.

"We designed it focusing on functionality and stealth, incorporating elements like a tight-fitting, flexible kevlar, allowing for maximum agility and combat effectiveness." He starts to explain, and I can tell he really enjoys this part of the job.

Tony opens the drawer below to reveal the holsters he designed for me. Slots for a gun, and for daggers.

He then opens the cabinet to the right, showing me all of the weapons he's designed for me.

Daggers with floral engraving on the blade. Guns with spots to accommodate my fingers. I can't help but keep reaching for new things just to admire them.

"Tony, it's all so amazing, thank you so much." I say, setting my knife down and pulling him into a hug.

"Of course," He hugs me and pulls away, still holding onto my shoulders, "Hey, and let me know if you're missing anything."

"Will do, Mr. Stark," I say, in a jokey tone, looking back into the cabinet admiring my suit.

It feels so impossible that I may actually be able to use the serum for good. Tony leaves, after squeezing my shoulder and throwing me a playful smirk.

I just stand where I am, soaking it all in. I pace the room, looking at all of the other suits thinking about how deserving all of these people are of this life and I can't help but doubt my place here.

I hope Tony's right.

I grab one of the daggers from my cabinet and stick it into the pocket on the inside of my jacket, making sure it's hidden.

"I was wondering where you were," I hear a voice say from the doorway, "What do you think?" Natasha walks in and stands next to me, both of us looking at my suit.

"I think I finally have a purpose."