Note: The edited and revised version of this chapter was uploaded on May 7, 2019

Chapter 2: Training

June 1943
Camp Lehigh
Wheaton, New Jersey

A line of soldiers stood waiting, each of them donning similar uniforms. None of them were quite sure what to expect, but they all knew they had specially been chosen to be candidates for a top-secret training and soldier program for both the army and the SSR. Steve was in that line of soldiers.

"Recruits, attention!" The men immediately snapped to attention as two women walked up to them. Steve recognized Zemira. She was dressed very differently from the last time he saw her. She'd traded in her skirt, heels, and curls for tactical pants, a regular tee, boots, and a tight braid. Dog tags hung around her neck. Gone was the pleasant expression he was used to seeing on her, replaced with a hard mask of indifference. However, Zemira was not the woman who had spoken. The one who had, the British one, was someone Steve didn't recognize. Taller than Zemira by several inches, she had short brown hair and wore a similar uniform to the one Zemira had worn when Steve met her. Authoritative in stature and stern in attitude, the recruits realized she wasn't someone to mess with.

"Gentlemen, I'm Agent Carter," she said, walking down the line. "This is my partner, Agent Zemira whom you will address as Captain." Zemira's eyes raked down the line of recruits, seemingly evaluating each of them. Steve was just trying to hide his surprise that Zemira held the rank of captain.

"I supervise all operations for this division," Agent Carter continued. "Captain Zemira is tasked with overseeing and facilitating your training. She will not go easy." Zemira's expression didn't change and Steve nervously wondered what was in store for them.

"What's with the accent, Queen Victoria?" Agent Carter froze, her eyes falling on the soldier who'd spoken. "I thought I was signing up for the US Army."

"And why's Black Beauty over there so quiet?" another soldier spoke up. Steve bristled at both the blatant objectification of Zemira and subtle insult to Agent Carter's heritage.

"What are your names, soldiers?" Agent Carter asked, looking unbothered.

"Gilmore Hodge, Your Majesty.

"Timothy Davies."

"Step forward, Hodge, Davies," Agent Carter ordered. Agent Carter and Zemira stood in front of them. "Put your right feet forward."

"We gonna wrassle?" Davies flirted, his eyes gleaming deviously at Zemira.

"Cause we got a few moves we know you'll like," Hodge finished. Both of them shot the women winks. So fast that the women seemed to be in sync, Agent Carter and Zemira simultaneously punched Hodge and Davies. Steve bit back his laughter. So did half the other recruits. Agent Carter's expression didn't change. Zemira's changed fast enough for her to shoot Steve a cheeky wink without anyone noticing.

"Agent Carter! Captain Zemira!"

"Colonel Phillips," both women saluted.

"I can see that you are breaking in the candidates, that's good!" Colonel Chester Phillips was an older, extremely imposing man with an expression that told the recruits he would take absolutely no shit. Phillips glanced down at Hodge and Davies. "Get your asses up out of that dirt and stand in that line until someone comes and tells you what to do."

"Yes, sir!" Both of them had bloody noses, but Davies' looked fully broken. Zemira smirked ever so slightly upon seeing her handiwork. That had felt good.

"General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons but they are won by men," Phillips started. Agent Carter and Zemira stood a bit behind him. "We are going to win this war because we have the best men." His voice faltered ever so slightly, having caught sight of Steve. A look was shot towards Erskine and Zemira, but nothing was said. Steve resolutely stared ahead. "And because they are going to get better. Much better." Steve looked at Zemira nervously, but she merely soothed him with a small smile. The genuineness of it struck him. She believed in him. She was confident in him. And that warmed him. He stared ahead again. He could do this. He could do this.

"The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history. But, every army starts with one man. At the end of this week, we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-soldier. And they will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell."

He could do this.

~)8(~

Steve sat on his bunk, unpacking his books and clothing while the rest of the recruits messed around. Already Steve was feeling like an outsider, a loner. It was going to be a long, hard week.

~)8(~

Steve climbed up the rope net, all the men quickly passing him. He kept getting his feet caught in the ropes, the steps harder to make with his short stature. His poor coordination only served to make his foot get caught. Steve fell, hanging from the net by his ankle and groaning as the blood rushed to his head.

"Rogers! Get off of there!" That was Sergeant Duffy, their drill sergeant. Steve was used to hearing his voice reprimanding him.

Above Steve, Hodge and Davies were smirking down at him. But before they could snicker to themselves, they swiftly had their heads knocked together painfully by Zemira. Like Agent Carter had told them, Zemira was helping with their training. Many of the men had passed around their jokes and doubts about her on the first night. They'd sat with each other, putting on false, high-pitched voices and crying dramatically about breaking a nail, or smudging their lipstick. Steve had been irate, but said nothing. The last thing he needed was a beating in the middle of the bunks. They would get their comeuppance. And they did. The next morning, the men had their asses handed to them by Zemira. They had formed a circle around her and the drill sergeant had said the first man to beat Zemira in hand-to-hand would be exempt from training the rest of the day. Predictably, Davies had almost immediately stepped into the circle to meet her, waggling his eyebrows at his buddies and earning snickers. Except while he was doing so, Zemira had kicked him in the back of his knee. There was a crack as it was pushed out of alignment and Davies immediately went down. Zemira shoved his face in the dirt, holding a knife to his back.

"Your enemy won't wait for you to be done measuring yourself."

Steve might've laughed had he not been so impressed. The other men were speechless. Zemira had pushed Davies' knee back into place and pushed him back into the circle. Only Hodge had the guts to fight her after that. That fight had ended quickly, too. With Hodge in a chokehold.

Up at the top of the net, Hodge and Davies rubbed their foreheads and Steve felt satisfied.

~)8(~

Steve clutched his rifle in his arms and tried to crawl under the barbed wire. All the other recruits soon passed him, but he ignored it and kept going. Seeing Steve struggle, Hodge kicked out one of the wood posts holding the barbed wire. It fell on Steve. He grimaced, ducking his head and squirming, trying to wriggle out while also trying not to cut himself on the barbed wire.

"Rogers! Get that rifle out of the mud!" Agent Carter looked on in disappointment. Not at Steve. At Hodge. She caught Steve's eye and he saw the sympathy. He didn't want it. He could do this. He then looked forward only to see Zemira snag Hodge's shirt and force him up.

"Hodge." The idleness in her voice was completely false. "You want to explain to me why you just trapped your comrade in the mud for the Nazis to slaughter?" Hodge paled rapidly. "Well?" He forced a smile.

"Just a bit of fun, Captain. Rogers doesn't mind." Zemira raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so? Well, let's ask him." Untrapped now, Steve walked over, trying to calm his breathing. "Rogers," Zemira only called him that in formal settings, "how do you feel that your fellow soldier just left you out to dry?" Hodge gulped. Zemira smiled mockingly. "How's a Court Martial sound?"

Steve was grinning widely on the inside. Hodge was a bully. And maybe he didn't deserve the full humiliation he was getting, but Steve didn't like bullies. And he'd be lying if he said this wasn't completely satisfying.

~)8(~

"Pick up the pace, ladies!" Steve struggled to keep up with the rest of the soldiers as they ran. His lungs were on fire and he felt like he couldn't get enough air. Every breath he took was harder than the previous one. His face was covered in sweat, and he was sure his cheeks were full-on red. His scrawny legs struggled to keep their pace. But he had to keep going! He had to prove to Erskine, Phillips, Agent Carter, the others, and especially Zemira that he deserved to be there. So Steve kept running. "Squad, halt!"

The squad halted at a flagpole, Steve nearly collapsing with relief. He saw Agent Carter sitting in a car nearby, holding a clipboard. Zemira was at the front of the squad with Duffy, but was wearing the same gear as the rest of the squad. But while most of the men were sweating or breathing heavily, Zemira looked near unfazed.

Zemira had been asked numerous times by the recruits how she was so strong, how she was in such good shape. She'd joked with the recruits, remarking that whoever was chosen would have the honor of finding out. She'd also been asked what her last name was. She'd had the same answer.

In that moment, staring at the unfazed Zemira, Steve vowed he would be chosen. Even if just to find out how she did it.

Duffy pointed up at the Camp Lehigh flag. "That flag means we're only at the halfway point." Steve nearly collapsed. "First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter. Move, move!"

The recruits were nearly falling over each other trying to climb the flagpole. Each of them tried. Hodge and Davies got the furthest, but even they didn't make it halfway before falling to the ground. Steve watched, still bent over trying to catch his breath.

"Nobody's got that flag since Captain Zemira! And 15 years before that!" Why was Steve not surprised? Glancing at her in amusement, she merely winked. "Now fall back in line. Come on, fall in! Let's go! Get back into formation!" Steve studied the flagpole, approaching it. "Rogers! I said fall in!" Steve ignored Duffy. He reached, pulling the pin and working the bolt out. He and the others watched as the flagpole tipped and fell to the ground. Steve swiftly unclipped the flag, handing it to Duffy. Everyone was stunned. Except for Zemira. She was smiling proudly, immediately approaching Steve and clasping his shoulder.

"Good work, Rogers." She laughed lightly, giving his shoulder a squeeze. He felt warmth rush through him. "I'm proud of you." Steve beamed. Then, he climbed into the car with Agent Carter and they drove off. And that was when Steve noticed… he was no longer on the brink of an asthma attack. His breathing was fine. When had that happened?

Back the flagpole, Zemira turned to the other recruits.

"Do any of you know what Rogers just did?" The recruits were silent, unsure how to answer, so Zemira elaborated. "He used his brain. You know, a brain? It's an organ. Sits in your skull. Supposedly, everyone is supposed to have one and use it." The expression on her face showed she was doubting that the men before her knew how to use them. "Brute strength will only get you so far. Rogers studied the problem, knew he couldn't solve it one way, so he found another solution. He manipulated the situation, making it easier for him to succeed. You lot have to start using your brains, otherwise this army is in trouble." The men didn't know how to answer, and Duffy stood aside, also disappointed in his men. "Besides, what use is a super-soldier that can't think?"

"You got that flag down," Davies suddenly spoke up. "How did you do it?" He was genuinely curious. Zemira turned away, readying to start running again.

"The same way Rogers did."

The squad was silent on the run back to base.

~)8(~

"Faster, ladies! Come on," Agent Carter ordered. The men were in rows doing pushups. Steve struggled to keep up with the pace, but still kept at it. "My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!" Nearby, Phillips was talking to Erskine and Zemira.

"You two aren't really thinking about picking Rogers, are you?" he was asking, incredulous.

"We're not just thinking about it," Zemira started.

"He is the clear choice," Erskine finished. Phillips' normally severe expression was even more so.

"When you brought a 90-pound asthmatic onto my army base, I let it slide," Phillips said to Zemira. Her answer was a deadpan, unamused expression. "I thought, 'What the hell?' Maybe he'd be useful to you, like a gerbil. I never thought you'd pick him." Agent Carter now had the recruits on their feet, doing jumping jacks. Steve was again, struggling to keep up with the pace. His arms flopped above his head and down like noodles and his head drooped to his chest in exhaustion. Nevertheless, he kept going, determined to be good and do well despite his size. He just kept going.

And that was why Zemira was proud of him. That was why Erskine liked him. That was why they were choosing him above all the others.

"You stick a needle in that kid's arm it's going to go right through him," Phillips lamented as he watched Steve struggle. "Look at that. He's making me cry."

"Phillips, you have been questioning my judgment all week," Zemira said. He knew immediately she was addressing him as Erskine's partner and an SSR agent, not as a soldier. "But I am confident in our decision. Dr. Erskine and I know the effects of the serum better than anyone. We know how it will affect the subject. We are both confident that Steve is the right man for this. We need someone who has qualities beyond the physical."

"Do you know how long it took to set up this project?" Phillips near-growled. "All the groveling I had to do in front of Senator What's-His-Name's committees?"

"Of course," she said.

"We are well aware of your efforts," Erskine assured him.

"Then throw me a bone. Hodge and Davies passed every test we gave them. They're big. They're fast. They obey orders. They're soldiers."

"So send them overseas," Zemira quipped. Phillips ignored her.

"They're bullies," Erskine said.

"You don't win war with niceness, Doctor," Phillips replied. He got an idea, grabbing a dummy grenade from a nearby supply truck. He pulled the pin. "You win wars with guts." He threw it. "GRENADE!"

The recruits scattered. Every single one. Everyone single one except Steve. The skinny shit ran forward, throwing himself onto the grenade.

"Get away! Get back!" Seconds passed and… Nothing. Everyone looked up hesitantly, realizing it was a dummy grenade. Steve panted, looking over at Zemira, Erskine, and Phillips. "Is this a test?"

Zemira's eyes glittered with approval, shifting to smugness when she looked at Phillips. Erskine's smile was a little cheeky. Agent Carter was holding back a smile of her own.

"He's still skinny." Phillips walked away. Zemira and Erskine exchanged smiles. They'd gotten their way. Steve would be chosen.

~)8(~

The week passed, and Steve was chosen to be the subject of Project Rebirth. In several weeks' time, he would undergo a procedure turning him into a super-soldier. The other recruits had been, understandably, disappointed. Erskine and Zemira had not explained their choice, even when the other recruits hounded them. So they'd returned to basic training. July passed, sweltering and muggy. It was miserable. The men were assured there'd be plenty of rain where they were going. The days began to blur. And suddenly, it was August. And then, the procedure was a week out. Five days. Three. One.

The night before the procedure, Steve sat on his bunk reading. He was the only one there. The other bunks were empty. All the other recruits had either been reassigned or had ventured into the city for a night of fun. Steve was still in shock that he'd been chosen for the project. Before, it still seemed so far away, so it hadn't felt real. But now, on the night before… it was staring Steve in the face. And he was nervous. But he was thankful. Really thankful. He was getting the chance to go fight for real now. Combat. Real combat. He wasn't sure he was ready for it. Now that combat was right around the corner, he was beginning to see why Bucky had been so adamant that Steve not enlist. But regardless, Steve was getting this chance. This one chance. He'd be damned if he chickened out now. He'd be damned if he let Zemira down now.

A knock on the door made Steve look up.

"May I?" Erskine asked.

"Yeah." Erskine walked into the room, carrying two glasses and a bottle of alcohol.

"Can't sleep?"

"I got the jitters, I guess," Steve admitted

"Me, too."

"Can I ask you a question?" Steve asked.

"Just one?"

"Why me?" Erskine paused.

"I suppose that is the only question that matters. I admit, I was a little hesitant about taking on another recruit. When Zemira walked into the lab, with endless things to say about the little guy who'd refused to bow down to a bully," Steve flushed, "I was intrigued. But hesitant. But then, that night, I saw you talking to your friend, and I was convinced." Erskine studied the bottle of schnapps in his hand before showing it to Steve. "This is from Augsburg. My city. So many people forget that the first country the Nazis invaded was their own. You know, after the last war, my people struggled. They felt weak. They felt small. And then Hitler comes along with the marching and the big show and the flags. And he hears of me. My work. And he finds me. And he says, 'You.' He says, 'You will make us strong.' Well, I am not interested. So, he sends the head of Hydra, his research division. A brilliant scientist by the name of Johann Schmidt. Now, Schmidt is a member of the inner circle. And he is ambitious. He and Hitler share a passion for occult power and Teutonic myth. Hitler uses his fantasies to inspire his followers. But, for Schmidt, it is not fantasy. For him, it is real. He has become convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, left here by the gods, waiting to be seized by a superior man. So when he hears about my formula and what it can do, he cannot resist. Schmidt must become that superior man." Steve listened avidly.

"Did it make him stronger?" he asked.

"Yeah," Erskine nodded. "But there were other… effects." His mind flashed with the memory of screams. "The serum was not ready. But more important, the man. The serum amplifies everything that is inside, so good becomes great. Bad becomes worse." Steve wasn't quite sure how to reply. He didn't need to. "This is why you were chosen. Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, may lose respect for that power. But a weak man, knows the value of strength. And knows compassion. Zemira saw a good man in you and knew you were the right man. And she was right." Steve smiled. She really did have so much faith in him. So did Erskine. It warmed his heart and made… other feelings… arise in him. At first, he wondered if he was just excited to be around a strong, beautiful woman who could probably kill him with a single punch. Then, he noticed himself wanting to be around her all the time. She was funny. And a good listener. Patient. And kind. Steve sometimes caught himself wondering how such a woman could exist. How could a woman who was practically an angel on Earth really be real? How could such a woman be friends with scrawny little Steve Rogers?

Steve knew the, ahem, feelings, he had towards Zemira were more than friendship. But voicing that aloud meant it was real. And such a perfect woman could never fall for that tiny kid from Brooklyn. So Steve pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked at the man sitting in front of him. The man who had taken a chance on him. Chosen him. Believed in him.

"Thanks. I think." Steve took the glasses and Erskine poured some of the schnapps.

"Whatever happens tomorrow you must promise me one thing," Erskine said. "That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man." Steve raised his glass.

"To the little guys." Erskine laughed and they toasted. Steve was about to drink the alcohol when Erskine suddenly stopped him.

"No, no. Wait, wait. What am I doing?" Erskine snatched Steve's glass. "No, you have procedure tomorrow. No fluids."

"All right, we'll drink it after," Steve relented. Erskine poured Steve's schnapps into his own glass, looking incredulous.

"No, I don't have procedure tomorrow. Drink it after? I drink it now."

Steve burst out laughing.

Hey all! Here's the second chapter! Hope you enjoy it!

-Sammiemoosam