Syringe☆Captain America

Prologue

Margaret Wirth studied the injection in her hands before glancing at the small blonde sitting on the kitchen counter. It was an awfully big needle for the three-year-old's arm, but Margaret knew she had to do it. She had to keep her daughter from using her inherited gift. Margaret had brought the little girl, Frances, from the past so she could have a better life, so she wouldn't want for anything, so she could bypass the Depression, the wars.

Frances fiddled with her tiny fingers before her big blue eyes met her mother's. "Mommy," she said.

"Yes, darling," Margaret said, her voice quiet, so as not to scare her daughter that constantly reminded her of a small songbird. A little curious thing that would scare at a moment's notice. Margaret knew the syringe was already putting the tiny child on edge.

Frances pointed at the syringe. "I have to get shot?"

Margaret grimaced. Frances never beat around the bush though. She was observant and only really questioned anything when she didn't want it to happen.

Slowly, the mother nodded. "I'm terribly sorry, dear, but we wouldn't want you to get sick, would we?"

Frances contemplated her mother's words for a moment. Then she shook her head. "No, I don't want sick." Then she offered her arm out. It shook ever so slightly until Margaret took the limb gently in her steady hands.

Margaret held Frances' arm firmly with her left hand while raising the syringe with her right. The little girl's eyes shown with fear as she anticipated the pain that would come from the huge needle. Something told her it wouldn't be like the shots she'd already gotten at the doctor's office; this one was much bigger and much more intimidating.

A glob-like tear rolled down Frances' chubby cheek as the needle touched her skin.