Chapter Text
Zemo
On some nights, he slept deeply. He hardly remembered how it had felt in the past, to completely let reality fade away, trusting his surroundings enough to keep him safe. Over the years, his body had become accustomed to danger lurking around every corner. During his time at the military, during everything after Sokovia, in prison, at the Raft. This was another one of those times where he should have held back from relaxing fully. But even next to the former Winter Soldier, he completely let go. His body went slack. He felt it most of all in the mornings, the way it had actually fallen into deep sleep. It was something he cherished every night it happened. Those nights were becoming increasingly common. And yet, the nightmares didn’t let Zemo go either.
When those dark dreams came, they hit all the harder. The past wasn’t done with him yet. It would probably never let him go. He knew that. But that didn't mean it didn't break his heart every time, seeing their faces again. He’d wake up gasping, as if he’d been shocked, his shirt drenched in sweat, the same way James’ sometimes was.
The irony was that James often slept soundly the same way he did. That and the side effect of the collar making him less sensitive to Zemo waking up meant Zemo had to come down from the nightmares on his own.
Zemo turned to watch him breath slowly and deeply, his one arm pulled up, cuffed to the headboard.
A good thing he's asleep, Zemo told himself as he turned onto his back again and stared up at the ceiling, hands on his stomach. He just needed some time to remember where he was and that what he had just seen and felt – all of that was in the past. Far, far in the past now.
He faced to James’ sleeping figure again. The man was lying to his side. He looked utterly at peace. Zemo moved to touch his messy strands of hair, but held himself back, too afraid to wake him and disturb that peace. Zemo could only hope that James would not suffer this night as he had.
Zemo knew nightmares would meet him again once he drifted off. It was always like this. If the night started with one, they kept coming until the morning. But he forced himself to close his eyes and dip away again nevertheless. He could not just lay here.
When Zemo opened his eyes again, he was standing in a field of flowers. They were white lilies, stretching as far as the eye could see. Zemo took hesitant steps forward, ready to meet whatever memory would form in front of him. When he looked down then, he noticed the flower in his hand, the white withering away in only moments. The change slowly spread to the flowers around him. They were all starting to dip down and turn yellow. They were dying around him like a spreading disease.
He felt them dying in his chest. All these lives...
He didn’t realize he’d been crying until he wiped a tear away. His breathing became unsteady and he hated himself for it. Everything around him was dying and he couldn't do anything-
“Handler.”
He frowned, gulping away the next wave of tears. The voice… it didn’t belong here. It felt so out of place. It pulled him back from the decay, holding him tight. He recognized that voice. It was so familiar...
“Handler.”
Zemo could feel breath against his cheek.
James? Zemo closed his eyes, breathing in, letting himself fall-
“Handler.”
Zemo blinked. He could see the outline the bedside table and its lamp, even in the dark. It took him a moment, but then he remembered where he was again.
“Are you awake?” asked a voice behind him.
Zemo exhaled slowly. He took his time as he sat up, his arms shaking. A few more breaths, and he already felt himself steadying. Finally, he allowed himself to turn and face the man next to him. The Soldier had been laying close to him, but now leaned back to sit against the bed-frame, his one hand still cuffed.
They stared at each other for a moment. Zemo could sense the slight trepidation in the Soldier’s look. Still, the Soldier was seeing him as his guide. His-
Handler? Zemo blinked, trying to get the dream to fade away.
“Soldier,” he croaked before clearing his throat. Those lilies were still haunting him. They felt like metaphors for something else. For everyone.
“You put the collar on,” the Soldier finally said. His voice was flat and factual as he nodded slightly.
Zemo blinked, still coming to his senses. “Yes, after you suggested it, we thought it might help.”
The Winter Soldier stared at him for a while. “What is my mission?”
“You don’t have a mission.”
“What is my purpose?”
Zemo opened his mouth before closing it again. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re handler.”
“No, not anymore, J- Soldier.” Zemo caught himself just in time.
The Winter Soldier exhaled. He looked flat-out annoyed. “What do I do?”
“I… Live?” What a senseless answer, Zemo cursed at himself. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. This fucking dream...
“You were having a nightmare.”
Fuck. Now this. Zemo met his gaze. “Did I wake you?”
“No,” the Soldier shook his head, “I was awake before.”
“For how long?”
The Soldier gave him a half shrug. “About twenty minutes?”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You were sleeping.”
“Right.” Zemo sat there. He eyed the Soldier, who was staring at him, as if waiting for him to finally, finally tell him what to do. Zemo could see it in his eyes. It was all he wanted. Some direction. Anything. Anything but this vague ocean of confusion. He could see that lost feeling in those eyes. “I wish I could help you. But even I don’t know what to do.”
“You could give me a mission.” Was it just Zemo, or was the Winter Soldier being sassy?
He offered him a smile. “Your mission is to relax. To stop worrying about missions.”
The Soldier gave him what could only be an irritated glare.
Zemo couldn’t help but smile even wider.
He saw some of James in those eyes, like a phantom in the depths of those irises.
James…
It felt like a light bulb switched on in his head. Of course.
“Soldier, would you like to talk to James?”
The Soldier frowned at him for a moment. “How?”
Zemo felt himself grow giddy as he grabbed James’ phone from his nightstand. “The wonders of modern technology.” He motioned at the phone. “We can record what you say. You can send a message to him.”
The Soldier kept staring at him. “Why? What do I say?”
Zemo hesitated. “I don’t know. But I think it would be good for you to finally talk. Maybe you can find common ground. A solution, to all of this.”
“James wants me gone. Dead.”
The baron observed him. “Maybe. But maybe you can convince him otherwise.”
Something changed in the Soldier’s look. He slightly tilted his head, eyes wandering over Zemo’s. It made him feel vulnerable. “You do not want me dead.”
It seemed more a statement than a question.
Zemo took a deep breath. “I suppose not.”
“You are still handler.”
“No,” Zemo chuckled nervously, a hand on the Soldier’s leg. “I’m not. I assure you.”
The Soldier squinted his eyes at him. “Yes. You are.”
Zemo returned his gaze, his breath caught in his chest.
Thankfully, the Soldier continued before he could.
“Okay,” he said, nodding at the device in Zemo’s hand. “Let’s do it.”
***
Zemo sipped his cocktail as he watched James chop wood for the fire. It reminded him of when he’d first watched James garden, though now he was lounging in his fur coat. Yes, it was that wonderful time of the year again, finally, that the leaves turned golden brown and the wind picked up and grew colder.
“Isn’t it a little early for drinking?” James huffed as he heaved another log onto the chopping block.
“Never,” Zemo smirked before sipping some more. His eyes wandered over James, taking it all in. He knew James enjoyed the attention too. Not to mention the burning taste of alcohol brought back memories of their drunk night together. And the words James had said. But he knew James wouldn’t like what was about to come next. Their feelings could wait. What mattered more was James and the Winter Soldier.
“I had an idea," Zemo started, "if you would indulge me.”
James cut through the wood like butter and threw the smaller pieces aside. “Oh boy.” He turned to the baron. “What?”
Zemo squinted at him as he stood in the sun. “Maybe you could talk to the Winter Soldier.”
James sighed as he heaved up another log. “What you just said makes no sense.”
He chopped away.
“I’m sure the Winter Soldier would like to communicate with you. And with the technology we have these days, that won’t be difficult at all. The Soldier can record a message for you. And you can record back and forth.”
“No,” James groaned. “I don’t want to do that.”
“Why not?”
James glared at him. “What would I even tell him?”
Zemo shrugged casually. “Anything that is on your mind.”
“I don’t have anything to say to him. Does 'fuck off' count?”
Zemo gave him the same exasperated look a parent might give their stubborn child. “James, humor me.”
James looked out at the field and then down. “No.”
“And what if I told you he already recorded a message for you?”
James paused, setting down the axe. Zemo watched him with trepidation. He didn’t know what to expect, but the way James was standing there, breathing heavily, like the moment before an outburst, it didn’t look good.
Without a word, he went back to work, swinging the axe down with renewed ferocity. Zemo held his glass tighter, his throat squeezing at the sight of James hashing through the wood brutally, letting out grunts of anger every time. Zemo knew he best not say anything. There was a time for playfully riling Bucky up, and he knew this was not one of those times. This was a line he wasn’t going to cross.
As quietly as he could, he shimmied up from the lounge and tip toed to the terrace door.
“Don’t go,” warned James’ gruff voice from behind him.
Zemo sighed as he closed his eyes, hand inches away from the door handle. He could hear his own heart pounding in his chest.
“I’m fucking mad at you, but stay.”
He sighed with relief, allowing himself to turn around and meet James' gaze. James really didn't look happy, but there was something about that look too, something scared.
“Very well.”
Zemo let himself sit back down as James went back to work.
“But we’re not fucking talking about this. Ever again.”
“Fair.” Zemo held his tongue for the time being. He knew James would come around. He just needed time.
***
The day passed with few words exchanged. James seemed focused as if he were in his own little world, his eyebrows always furrowed. He looked annoyed and mad, but it didn't particularly feel like that anger was directed at Zemo. He just avoided him. And the few words that he did say were small “thanks” and “you wanna go shower first?”. When Zemo dared to cup his cheek in the evening, James still leaned into the touch. When Zemo dared to reach up and kiss him, James still pulled him closer and kissed him back.
But even that did not seem to dissipate the troubled look in his eyes.
Zemo hoped he hadn’t broken him.
When night came, Zemo wasn’t surprised at James having nightmares. The first giveaway was the mumbling behind him.
Zemo groaned as he slowly turned to James, his arms outstretched, the light of collar glowing eerily in the dark.
“James?”
“No…” His face was furrowed, his head shaking ever so slightly. “No… please… don’t… don’t make me…”
Zemo leaned up, placing a hand on James’ stump. He realized his other hand was jerking against the cuff. It rattled against the bed frame despite his powers being subdued.
“James…” Zemo shook him slightly, but James was still deep and lost in this nightmare.
Bucky inhaled sharply, crying out, his arm now really fighting the cuff, as if he was tied up and a torturer was approaching him. He moaned pleas between sobs. Zemo quickly grabbed the key. With some difficulty, he finally managed to unlock the cuff. He held James’ now free hand close, the other cupping his cheek. “James!”
James fought him, his body weakened by the collar and even further by his sleeping state, until he finally settled.
“James?”
Bucky blinked slowly, a tear dripping from his eye. Their gaze met after a moment. “Was I dreaming?”
Dreaming is an understatement. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
James frowned at the hand that Zemo was holding to his chest. He looked up at the bed. His expression changed slowly, then fast. “The hell? Why did you uncuff me?”
“You were fighting your restraints.”
“Zemo. They’re supposed to stay on. What if I had woken up as the Winter Soldier when you did that?”
“James… This isn’t a solution. Not forever. The collar dampens the serum. You do not need the cuffs anymore.”
“But I want them on.”
Zemo sighed. “The Winter Soldier means me no harm.”
James glared at him in disbelief. “Yeah well I don’t trust him.”
“James.”
“Not now, Zemo. For fuck’s sake." James grunted as he struggled to cuff himself again. "What is it with you and the Winter Soldier? It almost sounds like you want him to stay!”
The baron took pity on him and helped him out. James only let out a groan and lay down again, back to Zemo.
“James...”
The man didn't move but made a low sound of discontent. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Zemo came closer to his ear. “You could never hurt me,” he said softly.
“Yeah, I could.”
Zemo dumped his head behind James’ and pressed his nose to his nape. This was clearly going to take a lot of work.
After a while, James surprisingly spoke up again. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Being… nice to him? He’s a part of Hydra. He’s… Everything bad that has happened has been because of him.”
“That’s not true, James.”
Bucky finally turned to glare at him. Zemo could see the fire behind his eyes. It seemed like he was fighting himself. Finally, he seemed to deflate as he exhaled. “You’re going to kill me. You know that?”
“No," Zemo whispered as he ran his fingers through those long strands. "I’m going to take care of you.”
“Me,” James started, “or your pet psychopath the Winter Soldier?”
“You, James.”
James slowly rolled onto his back. Zemo stayed hovering near him, eyes darting between his. “I think we both know this is the right way. Fighting it will not set you free.”
“I need time.”
Zemo gave him a soft smile. “I know.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.” He dipped lower before kissing him softly. James let out a soft moan before kissing him back, chain rattling as he tried to bring his hand up.
This time, he didn’t admonish Zemo for opening the handcuff. Instead, he rolled on top of the baron and took control as they made out.
Zemo knew a part of James just wanted him to shut up, but this was already progress.
***
James
It was pouring outside when they woke. Zemo uncuffed James gently and helped him put on his arm. “Stay here, I will bring up breakfast.”
James let a little sound of gratitude. He wasn't a fool though. He knew Zemo was trying to play nice, now that they had their disagreement about the Winter Soldier. But even if he did decide to communicate with him, what in the world would he say? He didn’t want to have to hear the Soldier talk to him. He couldn’t start thinking of him as yet another victim of Hydra.
And yet… deep down…
Zemo returned with a tray full of steaming cups and bread and marmalade.
James only slowly made his way through it, trying to think. When he was almost done, he finally eyed the baron, who was sipping his tea. “What is it like, with the Winter Soldier?”
Zemo gave a half shrug. “It is… calmer than you might expect. He seeks direction.”
“And you give that to him?”
Zemo shook his head. “No. I try to encourage him to let go of that notion.”
“And let me guess: he wasn’t happy about that.”
“No, he wasn’t.”
“So what’s the solution, if you think getting rid of him isn’t a good idea?”
“I’m not sure.”
James groaned. He sat there for a while, blinking and staring out the dark windows, water pattering against the pane.
“I told Sam the same thing,” he finally admitted. That seemed to catch Zemo’s attention. “I didn’t want him to tell the Wakandans about the Soldier’s return. I know it’s… it’s also because I didn’t want to…” James squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the back of his knuckles against his lips, trying to ground himself. His breathing fluttered. “You know, I didn’t want to disappoint them.” He felt a warm hand on his knee. He forced another deep breath. When he met Zemo’s gaze, he felt the well of tears in his own eyes, but he ignored it. “I know killing him isn’t an option. It’s not…”
“It’s not right.”
James exhaled, pressing the back of his head against the headboard. “It’s not right.” Another deep breath. “But that doesn’t mean… that doesn’t mean he’s some saint or victim. I share his memories. I suffer nightmares from what he did. What I did.”
“What he did.” Zemo held him harder. “James, you share an enemy. Hydra did this to you. To both of you.”
James sighed. Yeah. No shit. “Still,” he continued, “they’re the reason he exists.”
“Did he have a choice?”
James grimaced.
“He’s scared too.”
James closed his eyes and shook his head, quickly wiping away the tears. “I can’t help it, Helmut. I can’t face him.”
“You don’t have to.”
“You’re wrong. I know it’s going to have to happen some day.”
“Some day, James. When you are ready.”
James felt a soft hand cup his cheek. A part of him felt the comfort of his touch, but somewhere deeper, he felt something else spark to life. The Winter Soldier.
Memories flashed through his mind. Guns, violence, blood.
And their faces.
He could see the faces. They faded in and faded out, telling him what to do. What his mission was. Who he was to kill. What a good soldier he was… Zemo’s face melted in between two others before coming back much clearer than the rest.
He looked just as he had back then. Soldat.
“James.”
James gasped as Zemo’s voice snapped him out of it. He realized he was shaking.
“James?”
Bucky had to take another moment to heave his shallow breaths before whatever this was settled down. “I don’t know...” he managed to mumble. It was hard to breathe.
Zemo came closer, wrapping his arm around him. “You’re safe here.”
James squeezed his eyes shut again. He still saw his face. Zemo’s face. But it was how he had looked back then. He remembered what the Winter Soldier had seen in him…
Handler.
“Zemo,” James whispered, his voice cracking as the realization dawned, slowly at first, then all at once. He squeezed his eyes tighter. “He still thinks you’re…”
Shit. Why hadn’t he thought of this before?
If a part of him believed...
“I…”
“James.” Zemo squeezed his hand this time. “Talk to me.”
James looked down at his lap. He couldn't face the man he’d fallen in love with. Or at least, thought he had. “Zemo… I’m not sure this is right.”
“What isn’t right?”
James sat up straighter, pressing his back against the headboard, hand in his lap. “If there’s a part of me – the Winter Soldier part – that still sees you as handler…” James couldn’t even look at the baron. He already felt the tears stinging in his eyes. “What if that… dynamic is in there somewhere, in my subconsciousness? What if…”
… none of this was real?
“I do not believe that, James.”
James ignored him. “The Winter Soldier’s sole aim is to please his handler.”
“He didn’t even know about our… situation.”
“Well maybe it’s more subconscious than that.”
“The Winter Soldier isn’t here right now.”
“Isn’t he?” James finally glared at him. “How can you be so sure?”
“I know, James. I see it in your eyes.”
“Bullshit. How can either of us be sure I’m not following some hidden directive? That he, that the Hydra conditioning runs deeper than that?”
“It can’t be. I won’t believe it.”
“The truth doesn’t care what you believe.” James took a stuttering breath. Fuck.
“There is…” Zemo slowly started, “a way we could make sure all of this is not the programming.”
James stared at him with a frown. Then his eyes went big with realization. He grappled Zemo before he could even say another word.
He pressed his hand to the baron’s mouth and grabbed his gown belt to wrap it around Zemo’s mouth.
“James —”
His words became muffled as James gagged him. “You’re not fucking saying the deactivation word,” Bucky warned him. “Over my dead body.”
“Mmmmhmm,” Zemo mumbled against the fabric, trying to get it off, but James grabbed his wrists. With one hand, he held the baron down and with the other, he grabbed the restraints so that he could cuff both of Zemo's hands.
Zemo visibly rolled his eyes, halfheartedly trying to kick him.
“Stop struggling.”
The baron groaned but kept worming about.
“I said,” he placed a vibranium hand on Zemo’s thigh, holding it still, “stop moving.”
Zemo glared at him, but stilled anyway.
James sighed. “I need to figure something else out. You can’t say the word.”
The baron quickly shook his head.
“And I’m supposed to take your word on it, that you won’t say the word the moment I take off the bind?”
Zemo quickly nodded.
“Bullshit. You have nothing to lose which is why you’ll do it.”
The baron sighed and rolled his eyes again. James held him tighter, his heart fluttering.
What if all these feelings disappeared the moment Zemo said the word? What if none of this had been real? What if everything between them had been programmed? What if all of this had just been the Soldier trying to please his handler?
Zemo
James was batshit crazy. Like Zemo would ever lie to him. Yes, the thought had crossed his mind to just spit out the deactivation word, no matter that James would hate him for it. It was worth a try, since this situation bothered the both of them.
But seeing James in such distress… of course Zemo wasn’t going to betray his trust like that. Why? They could figure out something together. Not that Zemo had much of a say now anyway.
He nudged James as he sat there in contemplation.
“What?”
Zemo gave him the most pleading eyes he could.
“No, Zemo. I’m going to figure out another solution first.”
He groaned into desperation into the belt.
That was when James got up.
Zemo gave a muffled cry into the fabric.
James turned around. “What?”
Zemo eyed the door and shook his head.
“I wasn’t going to leave.” James placed his hands on his hips. “I was just going to pace up and down the room.”
Fuck. Zemo exhaled, letting his eyes fluttered shut. Then he nodded.
He felt the fabric dip, bringing his attention back to James. He looked much calmer now. Maybe even a little amused. “You want me to stay?”
Zemo nodded quickly. He didn’t know why he couldn’t stand the thought of being cuffed here all alone. He rolled onto his side, pressing into Bucky. As James caressed him softly, Zemo could see his eyes calculating, so busy thinking, anxiously trying to come up with a solution. Then something seemed to click.
“You promise you won’t say the word?”
Zemo nodded.
“I’m going to take it off,” James said quietly.
The baron gave him a look that said ‘about time’.
“I don’t know what I was thinking, sorry.”
Slowly he removed the gag.
“It’s okay,” Zemo managed as soon as the fabric was out of his mouth. His mouth was dry but he didn’t care. “I liked it, James. But, we will figure something out. Together.”
“I don’t want you to say it.”
“Then I won’t. But we both know I should.”
“What would you do if it was all the conditioning?”
Zemo gave him a little smile. “Suffer, I suppose.” He took a deep breath. “Now put on the gag again.”
***
“It is impossible that all we have been through has come from the conditioning, James,” Zemo said as he brought him a cup of tea, sitting down on the veranda stairs, foot nudging his. The rain had cleared but the clouds were still dark. “This is more than anything they could have programmed.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time they fucked up something good.” James sighed. “It always feels like they’re still here, that they’re still in control.”
Zemo frowned at him. Hydra was like James' own personal storm cloud, always over his head, never leaving his mind. The Winter Soldier was proof of that past.
“I want you to do it,” James said, which suddenly pulled Zemo out of his reverie.
“Are you sure?”
James nodded painfully. “Yeah. You better be right about it though, about it being impossible.”
“Okay. Then I will say the word to the Soldier when I see him again.”
James gave him a look. They both knew the Soldier would be there that night, and they were right. If he was on James' mind, he was likelier to appear. It wasn't rocket science.
When Zemo woke that night, the Winter Soldier was already sitting up. He didn’t even struggle against the handcuff. He just stayed there, gazing at the baron with glistening eyes.
“Soldat?”
“Sir?”
Zemo felt an uncomfortable warmth in his chest at the designation. “Hydra has used the deactivation code with you before, is that correct?”
“Yes,” the Soldier said quietly.
“What happens when they do?”
“It means the mission is over. I go to sleep so that I can go back into cryo.” He had a vacant look about him. Zemo wagered he was being brought in time. He found himself placing a hand on his knee.
The Soldier was back in the present immediately, eyes staring emotionlessly at his hand. Zemo pulled away.
“And saying the word means the person who said it is no longer your handler, yes?”
“Yes,” the Soldier said, still staring at that hand.
“And it doesn’t hurt?”
“No.” Those eyes met his gaze with an inquisitive look.
“I plan to deactivate you.”
“Okay?” he said, slightly confused. He probably hadn’t been warned about it before.
“Are you sure?”
“It’s not my choice.”
“I’m giving you the choice.”
He shrugged, looking down. Zemo noticed the way his jaw clenched. “Are you afraid?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Will I get a new handler after the deactivation? Will I be reset? Will I have a mission?”
“You do not need these things.”
The Soldier looked down, shaking his head.
Zemo held his knee again. “I know it is scary. But I want us to try this, okay? If you don’t like it,” Zemo hesitated, throat tightening. He didn’t know if he was going to mean this, “If you don’t like it, I can be your handler again, okay?”
The Soldier’s face suddenly met his, hope reflected in those dark irises. “Okay.”
Zemo couldn’t help his little smile. “I hope I was a better handler than they were.”
“You are.” The Soldier nodded. “You haven’t hurt me yet.”
Zemo gulped. He couldn’t bear the words of the Soldier any longer. “Okay, I will deactivate you now. Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Those completely trusting eyes were going to haunt the baron.
Zemo hesitated, his mouth opening and closing again, before he gathered his wits and finally said the word. “Sputnik.”