𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 • 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜

30 • Guinea Pigs

"But, you must've danced...with her?"

"Asking a woman to dance always seemed so terrifying, but once I got to know Millie, well, the only thing terrifying about her was the thought of losing her." He looked down in shrugged. "Before I met her, I never did anything with a woman. Figured I'd wait."

"For what?"

"The right partner." Steve let out a low sigh. "The right life partner."

The car pulled to the curb in front of an old antiques store and Peggy and Steve got out. There was a lot of suspicious looking men staring at them, but Steve figured it was just because someone that looked like him was with someone who looked like Peggy.

"What're we doing here?" Steve asked and put on his hat.

"Follow me." Peggy turned on her heel and marched up the stairs into the old store, followed by Steve who was eager to get away from the glares.

Once inside, an old woman came out from behind the curtain. She looked positively ancient, like the woman from the American gothic painting.

"Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?" The old woman said.

"Yes, but I always carry an umbrella." Peggy tilted her head slightly.

The elder went to her desk, and Steve followed Peggy back behind the curtain where they were met with large, ceiling to floor bookshelves. As soon as they were stood in front of it, the shelves opened out like doors into a hospital-like hallway, filled with dozens of soldiers.

Peggy walked like she meant business, and Steve supposed she did. After all, what was going to happen was very important, very top secret business it's likely why it was being conducted in the back of an old antique shop.

Two soldiers opened up double doors for Steve and Peggy, where they overlooked from a balcony, and Steve's eyes widened. He saw everything, and everyone, including the familiar face of Dr Erskine who was the only one that soothed him.

The room went silent as everyone stared up at Steve, and Steve swore he felt a bead of sweat roll down his face. Pure terror filled his body, but he wouldn't let anyone know that.

Peggy forced a smile to Steve and led him down the stairs where Dr Erskine was waiting, a clip board in hand.

"Morning," he shook Steve's hand and a bright camera flash went off. "Please, not now." Dr Erskine said to the photographer.

Steve looked worriedly at the machine he'd have to get into and swallowed a large lump forming in his throat.

"Ready?" Dr Erskine asked and Steve nodded. "Good. Take of your shirt, your tie, and your hat."

Steve did as he was told with slight hesitation, and then climbed up the stairs of the machine, laying down on the cold leather bedding with a trembling body.

Dr Erskine made his way over, smiling as he stared down at his new experiment. "Comfortable?"

"Feels a little big..." Steve joked. "Save me any of that schnapps?"

Dr Erskine looked guilty. "Not as much as I should have, sorry. Next time."

Steve looked away, finding eye contact incredibly difficult today. He wondered what would happen, if anything would happen.

Would he come out looking different? Would he look like Bucky?

God, Bucky.

Steve hadn't heard from him in so long, hardly even acknowledging that he went to war, as awful as it sounds. Too preoccupied with mourning Millie Mae.