911 | james barnes

001

10:36pm, May 16, 2002

Cincinnati, Ohio

The patter of small feet running on tiles was enough to tear Bruce Banner's attention away from the project he was working on. Turning just in time to catch the body of a child hurtling toward them, a fit of giggles escaped both their mouths as her small hands wrapped around his neck, settling into his lap.

"What are you doing up so late, pumpkin?" Bruce's voice was soft, his large fingers carding through the tangled black tresses of hair falling down the little girl's lap.

"I heard you making noise and I wanted to help!" Her voice was soothing to Bruce, who just moments before was close to ripping his hair out of his head. The meaning of the words she had uttered processed slowly for Bruce, until he caught her lingering stare on the many small gadgets littering the table.

"Help me? But you should be in bed, little miss!" Bruce scolded her, turning the stool away from the table, effectively stopping her intrigued staring contest with the pieces that would soon cause a big, green problem.

"But Daddy, I'm good at helping! Mrs Conner says I'm her bestest helper!" Her small hands retracted from around his neck, slowly sliding down his torso until she could jump from his lap and scurry toward the table containing one of his most difficult and long-lasting projects; a machine to release enough gamma radiation to recreate the Super Soldier Serum. Jumping up onto a small stool Bruce had begun to keep around the lab, her nimble fingers reached for wires, circuitry and chemicals. Enamoured by her familiarity in his lab and watching his daughter following in his footsteps with such passion, Bruce hadn't realised what she was doing until she turned around, proud smile gracing her face.

"I helped Daddy!" Her voice was shrill, excited, but most of all, proud.

"Sweetheart! You need to put that down, very slowly, okay? It's very dangerous. Daddy should have stopped you because that could hurt you, okay?" Bruce panicked, standing from his chair and moving toward the four year old with cautious steps.

"But Daddy, I fixed the problem. It works now!" Shaking the contraption around her head, Bruce's eyes widened further, launching toward her as it fell from her nimble fingers. His body curled around her own, protecting her from the harsh waves of radiation that passed from the machine. His last thought as his eyes closed burned into his brain, something he would never forget.

She'll never know how proud I am.

11:58pm, May 16, 2002

New York City, New York.

"Charlie Foxtrot cleared for takeoff."

The whirling blades of a helicopter awoke a small girl from her place in a large man's hold. Two small fists raised to her eyes, rubbing at them sleepily.

"Daddy?" She queried, blinking slowly as she looked around the helicopter.

"Daddy's not here sweetheart. But he told us to take you somewhere you'll be safe, okay?" A gruff voice said, his words thick with a Russian accent. He looked into her doubtful eyes, offering a kind smile. The little girl nodded slowly, eyes too heavy and brain too foggy to decipher why her father would send her off in a helicopter with a bunch of large men. The soldiers in the helicopter looked to each other, a silent 'Good job' shared between the team.