Undisclosed Location, Underground Military Base
The hum of machines never stopped.
It echoed through the underground base like a second heartbeat. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile white glow across rows of computers, steel tables, and scattered notes filled with equations only a handful of people in the world could understand.
Bruce Banner sat hunched over one of those computers, fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard. Lines of code and data flickered across the screen, reflected faintly in his tired eyes behind rectangular glasses. His brown hair was slightly unkempt, like he'd run his hands through it one too many times. A half-empty notebook lay open beside him, filled with rushed handwriting and circled formulas.
He hadn't slept in maybe a week. A soft set of footsteps broke through the mechanical rhythm of the lab. Bruce didn't notice at first, too focused on the numbers, on the calculations that refused to line up the way he needed them to.
A ceramic mug was gently placed beside him.
"Bruce, you need to drink something."
Her voice was calm, familiar and grounding.
Bruce blinked, snapping out of the trance he'd buried himself in. He looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose before taking them off entirely, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand.
"Thanks, Betty," he muttered, voice rough from disuse.
Betty Ross stood beside him, arms loosely folded now that the mug was no longer in her hands. She watched him carefully, concern flickering in her eyes. She'd seen this version of Bruce before. He is the one who got too deep into his work, who forgot everything else existed.
Bruce picked up the mug and took a slow sip. The warmth seemed to bring him back just a little more.
"Your father's been on my ass," he added, exhaling. "Trying to make this serum work faster than it should."
Betty sighed softly, though there was a faint smile on her lips. She stepped closer, leaning down just enough to press a gentle kiss against the top of his head.
"You're close, Bruce," she said. "I can tell."
Bruce gave a small nod, though his eyes drifted back toward the screen for a moment.
"Just need to test it," he replied quietly.
Betty tilted her head slightly, studying him, then said, "You know what today is, right?"
Bruce frowned faintly, his brain clearly still buried halfway in equations. He thought for a second… then another… before finally glancing toward the wall-mounted calendar.
His eyes widened just a little.
"…Steve's birthday."
Betty nodded.
"He still asleep?" Bruce asked.
"Yeah," she said. "Out cold."
For a moment, Bruce just stared at the calendar. Sixteen. Somehow, that number felt heavier than it should.
Then he pushed his chair back and stood.
"Come on," he said.
Betty followed as they left the lab, the automatic doors sliding open with a soft hiss. The hallway beyond was quieter, though the distant hum of machinery still lingered like a constant reminder of where they were.
An underground military base and it wasn't exactly the place you'd want to raise a kid.
They walked side by side until they reached a closed door. Bruce hesitated for just a second just enough to show the conflict in his eyes before pushing it open.
The room inside was a stark contrast to the rest of the base.
It actually felt… lived in.
Posters covered the walls with bright splashes of color against otherwise plain surfaces. Classic cars. Scientific diagrams. And most notably, heroes.
Batman. Superman. The Flash.
On the bed, tangled in a mess of blankets, was a teenage boy. Brown hair, slightly messy like his father's. One arm hung off the side of the bed, completely dead to the world.
Bruce couldn't help the small smile that formed as he walked over and gently shook his shoulder.
"Steve. Wake up."
The boy groaned, shifting slightly before blinking his eyes open. It took him a second to focus, but when he did, a sleepy grin spread across his face.
"Hey, Dad."
Bruce's smile grew a little more genuine.
"Happy birthday, son," he said. "You're turning sixteen, huh?"
Steve let out a quiet chuckle, pushing himself up on his elbows.
"Yeah… finally," he said, stretching a bit. Then his expression shifted with curiosity creeping in, something that had clearly been building for a long time.
"Can I finally know why we had to come to this bunker?" he asked. "And what you've been working on?"
Bruce froze and he glanced back at Betty, who simply gave a small shrug showing she believed… it was time.
Bruce exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.
"Get dressed," he said.
A few minutes later, the three of them stood back in the lab.
Steve looked around, taking everything in like he'd never really seen it before even though he'd been here for months. But today felt different because he was finally being let in.
"What is all this?" Steve asked, stepping closer to one of the monitors. Lines of data scrolled endlessly. "This doesn't look like normal science stuff."
Bruce walked past him, stopping near the central workstation.
"It's not," he said.
Steve turned to face him and Bruce hesitated again but he finally picked up a small vial from the table. Inside was a faintly glowing green liquid. It pulsed slightly, almost like it was alive.
Steve's eyes widened.
"What is that?"
Bruce stared at the vial for a moment before answering.
"A serum," he said. "Something your grandfather believes could change the future of medicine… and warfare."
Steve frowned.
"Warfare?"
Betty crossed her arms slightly, watching Bruce carefully.
"He wants to create the perfect soldier," Bruce continued. "Stronger. Faster. More durable than any human alive."
Steve looked back at the vial, unease creeping into his expression.
"And you're making it for him?"
Bruce didn't answer right away.
"I'm trying to control it," he finally said. "Make it safe."
Steve let out a quiet breath, shaking his head slightly.
"And you think that's possible?"
Bruce met his son's eyes.
"I have to believe it is."
But suddenly sharp, piercing wail tore through the base, drowning out the steady hum of machinery that had filled the lab only seconds ago. Red lights began flashing overhead, bathing the room in a pulsing crimson glow. The monitors flickered, data glitching across the screens as the system struggled to keep up with whatever was happening beyond the walls.
Steve flinched, his heart jumping into his throat.
"What's going on?" he asked, his voice tight with confusion.
Betty turned toward the hallway, her body already tense. "That's not a drill."
A distant explosion shook the entire facility. The floor trembled beneath their feet, dust shaking loose from the ceiling as the sound of metal bending echoed faintly through the corridors.
Bruce's expression changed instantly. The scientist was gone. In his place was something sharper.
"Stay behind me," he said, grabbing Steve by the arm and pulling him back. Another explosion but it was closer this time.
Then came the sound that made everything worse….gunfire and Steve's eyes widened. "Dad…"
Bruce didn't answer. He was already moving, guiding Steve quickly across the lab toward a reinforced glass chamber built into the far wall and it was a containment pod. Its interior was empty, sterile, surrounded by thick panels and heavy locking mechanisms.
"Get inside," Bruce said.
"What? Why?!"
"Now, Steve."
Something in his father's voice made him listen. Steve stepped inside, turning back just as Bruce slammed his hand against the control panel. The doors hissed shut, sealing him in with a heavy metallic clunk.
"Dad, what are you doing?" Steve asked, panic rising.
Bruce didn't look at him. His fingers moved quickly across the console, activating the locks.
"This room is shielded," he said. "No matter what happens, you stay inside."
"Bruce…" Betty started, stepping closer, fear creeping into her voice.
Before she could finish the lab doors exploded inward as metal twisted and flew across the room as the blast sent a shockwave through the air. Smoke poured in from the hallway, followed by the slow, deliberate sound of footsteps.
A figure emerged from the smoke wearing orange and black armor. Masked face. One eye glowing faintly through the visor.
Behind him, armed men in black tactical gear flooded into the room, weapons raised, sweeping the area with precision.
Bruce's eyes narrowed.
"…Deathstroke."
The man tilted his head slightly, almost amused.
"Doctor Banner," he said, his voice calm, low, and dangerously composed. "I was hoping you'd still be alive when I got here. Saves me the trouble of digging through your notes."
Betty stepped back slightly, her hand covering her mouth as she looked between Bruce and the intruder.
"What do you want?" Bruce demanded.
Deathstroke took a few slow steps forward, his boots echoing against the metal floor. His gaze flicked briefly toward the containment pod toward Steve before returning to Bruce.
"You're a smart man," he said. "You already know the answer."
Bruce's jaw tightened.
"The serum," he said.
A faint chuckle escaped Deathstroke.
"Not a serum," he corrected. "My serum."
Steve's breath hitched inside the pod as Deathstroke continued, almost casually, "You think you're the first person the military has asked to play God? Super soldiers, enhanced operatives… it's an old game. I'm just one of the few who survived it."
Bruce stepped forward slightly, placing himself more directly between Deathstroke and the pod.
"I'm not trying to replicate you," Bruce said. "I'm trying to fix it."
Deathstroke stopped and for a moment, the room went completely still then he laughed.It wasn't loud but it was cold.
"Fix it?" he repeated. "You don't fix something like me, Doctor. You either control it… or it controls you."
His head tilted again, his single visible eye locking onto Bruce.
"And judging by your progress…" he added, "you're about to find that out the hard way."
Bruce's fists clenched.
"You're not taking it," he said.
Deathstroke didn't respond with words as he moved faster than Steve could track.
One second he was standing still then suddenly he was in front of Bruce, his arm swinging in a brutal backhand that sent Bruce crashing across the lab, slamming into a metal table with a deafening clang.
"Bruce!" Betty screamed, rushing toward him.
The soldiers raised their weapons, but Deathstroke lifted a hand slightly. They stopped instantly.
"No," he said calmly. "He's mine."
Bruce groaned, pushing himself up, blood already forming at the corner of his mouth. He staggered slightly but stayed on his feet, putting himself back between Deathstroke and the pod.
"You're not getting near him," Bruce growled.
Deathstroke studied him for a moment and then he nodded.
"Good," he said. "I was hoping you'd try."
Bruce charged it wasn't graceful or trained but it was desperate.
Deathstroke sidestepped effortlessly and he drove his elbow into Bruce's ribs, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Before Bruce could recover, Deathstroke grabbed him, slamming him hard into the console beside the containment pod. Sparks flew as the system flickered and Steve slammed his hands against the glass.
"STOP!" he shouted. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!"
Deathstroke glanced at him again and there was something almost curious in that look.
"…Your son," he said. "Didn't expect that."
Bruce tried to push himself up again, coughing.
"Stay… away from him…"
Deathstroke sighed faintly, almost disappointed.
"I don't have time for this," he said.
He reached for his sidearm and seeing this Steve's eyes widened.
"No!"
The gunshot echoed like a thunderclap as Bruce's body went still and for a moment, everything froze as Betty's scream shattered it.
"BRUCE!"
She dropped beside him, her hands trembling as she tried to hold him, as if she could somehow keep him there.
"Please…no, no, no!"
Another shot.
Steve couldn't breathe as his chest felt tight, like something was crushing it from the inside.
"Mom…" he whispered, his voice breaking.
Deathstroke lowered the gun, completely unfazed. He turned toward the console, his fingers already moving across the controls.
On the screen, a warning flashed:
GAMMA RADIATION CHAMBER – ACTIVE
"Let's see what you were working on," he muttered.
"STOP!" he screamed, slamming his fists against the glass. "STOP IT!"
Deathstroke didn't even look at him as he pressed the final command.
"Goodbye, kid."
The chamber came alive as a blinding green light flooded the containment pod. Steve screamed as it felt like his body was being torn apart from the inside. Heat surged through his veins, unbearable, like fire replacing his blood. His muscles tensed violently, his vision blurring as the world turned into nothing but light and pain.
Outside, Deathstroke turned away, already walking toward the exit as the soldiers followed.
Behind him, the screams grew louder as Steve dropped to his knees, clutching his head as something inside him snapped.
Grief.
Rage.
Pain.
It all collided at once.
His scream broke into something inhuman as the glass began to crack and then everything went dark.
Timeskip
Steve woke up to silence, but it wasn't the kind that felt peaceful. It was heavy, suffocating, like the world itself had gone still after something it couldn't take back. His body ached in a way he had never felt before, every muscle burning like it had been torn apart and stitched back together wrong. For a moment, he just lay there, staring up at the sky, his mind blank as if it refused to process anything.
Then it all came rushing back and Steve's eyes widened as he shot up, his breath coming out in a sharp, panicked gasp. He looked around, and that's when he saw it. The lab was gone. Not damaged but gone. The entire area had been reduced to a massive crater, surrounded by twisted metal, shattered concrete, and smoke still rising into the air. It didn't even look real anymore. It looked like something had erased everything that used to be there.
"Mom…?" he called out, his voice weak and unsteady. "Dad…?"
There was no answer.
His heart started pounding harder as he forced himself to stand, ignoring the pain in his legs. That's when he realized he wasn't wearing anything, but the thought barely registered. None of it mattered. His eyes were already searching, desperate, scanning through the wreckage for anything…any sign that they were okay.
Then he saw them.
Partially buried under rubble, motionless.
"No…" the word slipped out of him before he could stop it, quiet and broken.
He stumbled forward, nearly falling as he dropped to his knees beside the debris. His hands immediately started digging, ignoring the sharp edges slicing into his skin, ignoring the dust filling his lungs. He didn't care how much it hurt. He just needed to get to them.
"Dad! Mom! I'm here….I'm here!" he shouted, his voice cracking as panic took over.
He grabbed a chunk of concrete and tried to lift it, his arms shaking violently as he pushed himself harder. For a second, it didn't move, and his chest tightened in fear. Then, with a strained yell, it shifted just enough for him to shove it aside. More rubble followed, and he threw it away frantically, his movements desperate and uncoordinated.
"Please… please be okay…" he kept repeating under his breath, like saying it enough times would somehow make it true.
He uncovered Bruce first and Steve froze the second he saw him because his dad wasn't moving
"…Dad?" he said, softer this time, like he was afraid of the answer.
Steve's vision blurred instantly as his hands trembled, reaching out and grabbing onto Bruce's shirt. "No… no, no, no… come on…" he muttered, pulling him free from the rubble and dragging him closer. "You're okay… you're okay…"
But even as he said it, he knew. Still, he held onto him, gripping him tightly like he could force him to stay, like he could undo what had already happened.
A broken sound escaped Steve's throat as he turned back toward the rubble, scrambling again, his movements even more frantic now.
"Mom!"
It took longer to reach her, and every second felt like it was crushing him. By the time he finally pulled Betty free, his hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold onto her. He didn't let go. He couldn't. He pulled both of them close, wrapping his arms around them as tightly as he could, like if he held on hard enough, they wouldn't slip away.
"I'm sorry…" he choked out, his voice breaking completely as tears streamed down his face. "I'm so sorry… I couldn't….I couldn't do anything…"
His words dissolved into sobs as he pressed his forehead against his dad's shoulder, his grip tightening even more. Nothing made sense anymore. The world just felt empty, like everything had been ripped out of it all at once.
After a while, his hands loosened slightly, trembling as they rested against Bruce's coat. That's when something slipped free and fell into the dirt beside him. Steve barely noticed at first, but after a second, his eyes drifted down to it.
A folded piece of paper.
His breathing hitched as he slowly reached for it, his fingers shaking as he picked it up. For a moment, he just stared at it, like he was afraid to open it, like whatever was inside would make everything hurt even more.
Then he unfolded it and there were words were written on the front.
To Steve.
His chest tightened so hard it felt like it might collapse in on itself. "No…" he whispered again, his voice barely there.
He opened it fully, and a small locket slipped into his hand. Steve stared at it for a second before slowly opening it, his movements careful, almost hesitant.
Inside was a picture.
The three of them sitting together, smiling, holding ice cream like it was just another normal day. Steve's lip trembled as the image blurred through his tears, and this time he couldn't hold it back. A raw, broken sob tore out of him as he clutched the locket tightly, pulling it against his chest like it was the only thing keeping him together.
"Why…?" he cried, his voice cracking under the weight of it. "Why did this happen…?"
He looked back down at them, really looked this time, and the truth hit him all over again. They weren't waking up. They weren't coming back. This wasn't something he could fix. He was alone.
The sound came out of nowhere. A distant thumping that quickly grew louder.
Helicopters.
Steve's head snapped up, panic cutting through the grief as the noise echoed overhead. His breathing became uneven again as reality crashed back in. Whoever did this… they might still be coming.
His gaze dropped back to his parents, his chest tightening painfully.
"I'm sorry…" he whispered, his voice barely audible now.
He leaned down, pressing a shaky kiss to his mom's forehead, then his dad's, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as more tears slipped down his face. "I love you," he said quietly, the words breaking apart as he forced them out. The helicopters were getting too close.
Steve swallowed hard as he reached for Bruce's coat, carefully pulling it off and slipping it on. It hung loosely on him, far too big, but he didn't care. It still felt like him. Like something he couldn't lose too.
He closed the locket and tucked it safely into the pocket before standing, his legs unsteady but holding.
For a second, he didn't move. He just looked at them one last time, trying to hold onto the moment even though it was breaking him then he turned and ran.
Barefoot, shaking, and completely alone, Steve disappeared into the forest as the sound of helicopters filled the sky behind him, leaving everything he had ever known buried in the wreckage.