Chapter Text
No matter how hard he tried, the knowledge of being in a prison ruined every attempt at indulging in luxury items like books or music.
A deep sigh escaped him as he rolled over on his prison cell bed, the book in his hands not bringing him any joy. He felt like he couldn't concentrate on the words he was reading, this was the third time he had read the same page without being able to retain any of the content.
Zemo had been imprisoned on the Raft for about a year now. The end of his work with Sam and James marking the beginning of his life sentence in captivity and it had doubtlessly been the longest year of his life so far. Time on the Raft seemed to pass slower for some reason. Even in the prison that contained him in Berlin he had felt more... Alive. More real.
He decided to give up on reading then, loosely holding the book to his chest, as he stared at the ceiling, trying to find something else to occupy his mind with. Finding relief from these walls that would accompany him for the rest of his days was essential, but not an easy task to accomplish.
His cell was solitary. There was no other prisoners he could talk to. He was familiar with the effects solitary confinement had on the human mind, he had learned about it in his training for the armed forces back in his days in Sokovia. The loneliness was beginning to get to him and once again he dove into memories of his family to ease the effects of the relentless companion of solitude.
Heavy sting in his chest.
Zemo groaned. It was worth it. It was worth it... He had to keep telling himself that anything was better than the emptiness and the forever in these walls. So he let himself dive into the past, perceiving its presence and vividness as almost more real than the situation he was in.
If he could just... Forget for a few minutes where he was. The smile of his wife and the sound of her voice pulling him under deeper-
He jerked on the matress as he heard an alert from the speaker in his cell, the guard's voice in his ears startling and strange after several days without having heard anything aside from his own breathing.
'Prisoner Helmut Zemo. Prepare yourself for a visitor, you have five minutes.'
A... visitor? Strange. He could not think of a single person that might've wanted to see him. But whatever it was, he was certain it meant some type of problem.
Regardless of knowing that, he had his standards and he would not face any visitor without looking presentable. He closed the book and placed it carefully on the bed. Then he pushed himself off the thin mattress and swiftly straightened out his wrinkled prison jumpsuit. The task was futile and he tried to take comfort in the fact that whoever wanted to see him would not give two shits about his attire. Walking up to the small sink, he splashed his face with some water and tried finger combing his hair back into place.
When the door finally opened, he was ready, standing in the middle of the cell. A man stepped into the entrance area, the safety glass wall separating the space from his reach. He looked up and regardless of how different his face and built looked a year ago, he would recognize the piercing steel grey eyes of the Winter Soldier anywhere.
The door fell shut behind the man and he slowly walks in front up to the glass, his movements as fluid and silent as ever.
Zemo had to suppress a shiver of excitement, he hadn't believed he would be able to see James again in his life time and the sheer beauty and strength inhibited by the man in front of him, inside and out, stunned him every single time they met.
'Zemo.' James spoke, his voice barely audible, his expression unreadable.
'James.' Zemo greeted him with a slight nod and he didn't even try to keep the corners of his lips from pulling into a smile.
'Нет. Зимний Солдат.' he corrected in Russian, his haunted eyes downcast.
'The Winter Soldier then.' Zemo agreed, slightly surprised. Last time he had met James, the man was reluctant to accept any type of connection made between him and his past and now he wanted to be addressed as the Soldier, speaking Russian? Zemo walked closer to the glass separating them, his voice controlled and slow. 'Do you remember me?'
'Да, Сэр.' he confirmed quietly. James' Russian words sending a shiver through Zemo's body in anticipation. Memories of Berlin flooded him, from the time he had activated the Winter Soldier for his own purposes.
'Look at me.' he request, his now grown out hair casting dark shadows over his face and covering his features.
James looks up slowly and Zemo holds his breath for a few seconds as sympathy and pity for the man fill him.
There's dark circles under his eyes and his face looks almost gaunt, his lips chapped and pale. He hadn't shaved in a while, his clothes worn and old. He looked... Neglected to say the least. His usually soft brunette hair was just on the verge of greasy and his piercing grey eyes looking far away into the distance.
A few long seconds pass as he takes in the man's state, he holds Zemo's gaze effortlessly before James takes a deep breath, his voice barely more than a whisper.
'I have nothing left.' The words surprise him. Last Zemo had known was that the man had built a friendship with Sam Wilson and started to become... More adjusted with his fate and life as it turned out for him.
'You've lost everything?' Zemo asks, bitterness bubbling up somewhere inside him. 'Your country? Your family and friends? Your identity?'
'Да.' An ugly part of himself almost made Zemo scoff at his response.
'Do you have hope of getting any of them back?' he asks, fully well knowing Sam was no man to abandon a friend and that James had been pardoned for his crimes as the Winter Soldier.
'No, Sir.' he says, his expression betraying nothing, but Zemo could clearly spot the defeat in his empty eyes.
'There must be something left you do have.' he states, the ignorance with which James ignored the good things life was throwing at him agitating Zemo, despite the knowledge of his past and pain.
A few seconds pass in silence before he speaks again.
'You.'
Zemo's eyes widen. He was not expecting that and his composure was thrown off for a few seconds as he watched James move closer to the bars. His legs folded underneath him and he fell to his knees right in front of Zemo.
Nothing could've prepared him for this physical demonstration, underlining the single word he had uttered. Zemo's gaze softened and he couldn't prevent empathy from softening his bitterness, feeling deep sympathy for the man kneeling in front of him. Zemo didn't know what made James think even the few good things he had were lost, but the man seemed to believe it.
'It hurts, doesn't it?' Zemo speaks with a soft voice, the urge to comfort James rising within him due to his display of desperation. 'To lose everything and have no one left. To be merely a shell of the person you once were...'
'Да.' he admits. Zemo was at a loss of understanding how the man he came to know as witty and bad tempered during their work together, was now seemingly in ruins, facing what was left of his life. The simple act of him admitting to hurting was something Zemo never thought he would witness.
'I'm sorry, James...' he says, his voice soothing and quiet. Zemo knew the pain. And he couldn't deny that he felt for James as he experienced something Zemo thought was similar to his own experience.
James inhaled shakily, Zemo's gaze taking in his frame that appeared so much more gaunt, thinner and weaker than he remembered, as he folded in on himself.
The curiosity about what led the man to come see him started to become stronger by the second and Zemo didn't want the topic of loss to taint the remaining time he had with him, so he decided to investigate further.
'Why do keep calling me Sir? You've never done that before.' he asks, his head tilting slightly in confusion and curiosity. How he had addressed Zemo in the past had always been less than respectful, as if he was beneath James. So this obviously deliberate change startled him and made him wonder.
'You were the last person to be my handler. Handlers are to be addressed respectfully.' he explained in a monotone voice.
Something in Zemo's stomach turned at the mention of him being his handler. He did not appreciate to think back to the time he had activated the Winter Soldier to use him for his own purposes. Zemo despised myself for having done that to this day.
'But... You were forced into that. You are no longer forced... No longer under my command.' he argued, confusion apparent in his tone.
'That makes no difference to my broken mind.' he mutters, his eyes slowly blinking. He seemed so tired, as if he hadn't slept in a week.
The confusion about James' words increased as Zemo remembered how... Utterly proud he seemed to have been freed of the trigger words, of Hydra's control over him. The difference between a year ago and now was baffling.
'So... What do you feel when you call me that?' Zemo asked, wanting to hear what exactly made the man choose to address him as a handler... Freely.
'That I belong...'
'To me?'
'Да...'
My confusion started to irritate me. This could not... Be. It simply couldn't.
'Even though I made you do terrible things... You still see me as your handler?'
'I do.'
'Why...? Don't you hate me?' Zemo's irritation was starting to seep into his voice, he was struggling to understand James' reasons and the desire to get to the bottom of it, made him impatient.
'I don't feel hate towards you. I think I used up all of the hate I can possibly feel... I don't hate you.'
'So you don't resent me for what I did to you?'
Disbelief was showing on Zemo's face as he looked at him, trying to comprehend his words.
'No, Sir. I don't feel resentment for you.'
James' voice held no deception, no sign of agitation or bitterness, he spoke matter-of-factly and quietly. The man seemed... Completely defeated. Zemo stared at him for a few moments, trying to process that he was being genuine.
'And you still... See me as your handler?'
'Once the connection was made, I'm tied.'
'You realize that the connection was artificial, right? That I manipulated and used you. You were brainwashed and I took advantage of you.' Zemo suppressed flinching at his own words. Admitting out loud what he had done to the man made guilt wash over him.
'Artificial light is still light in the darkness...' James tried explaining, the comparison leaving Zemo stunned for a few seconds.
'And what would be the equivalent to the darkness in this comparison?'
'My mind...'
Zemo's heart was starting to beat faster in his chest, making him wonder about his own reaction. He paid it no mind though, he had a mystery to solve right in front of him.
'And are you comfortable with me being in there? In your mind?' He could not for the life of him imagine that James wanted anyone to ever be in his mind again after all those years of being controlled and manipulated.
'I don't seek comfort.' his eyebrows slightly furrow, his voice sounding just the smallest bit defiant.
'But you do seem to want me in there. You said you have nothing left but me.' Frustration was starting to show on James' face, a slightly pained expression crossing his features.
'I don't seek... comfort from you- I...' he swallows thickly, clearly struggling for words.
'What do you seek then?' Zemo couldn't help but hope he would simply answer, but it was rarely that easy to get an answer out of the other man.
'Purpose, belonging... Order.'
As James listed his reasons, Zemo was noticing he couldn't ignore his racing heart anymore. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself.
'So you... want me to control you again? You want to follow my orders?'
'Yes, Sir.' he said, James' shoulders slumping forward in defeat, head hanging low and his hair falling back into his face.
Zemo took a moment to process his answer. At least he tried to, but he was failing miserably. Zemo couldn't comprehend how this could be, this could not possibly be the reason James came to him.
'Have you never, just once, thought about killing me for all I did to you?'
'I thought about it. But I can't.'
'Can't or won't?'
'I can't... You're my handler. That connection is sacred. I can't harm you.' he uttered, a slight shiver running through him, barely visible.
'James... You've made friends when we last met. You can't tell me... That you want to do this. Is that artificial connection I created in you really stronger than the connections you have... Or had, to the people closest to you? They would not approve of you doing this.'
'The man that had friends and family is long dead.' he stated, his voice and expression back to empty.
'Is that the reason you feel, I am what is left?'
'No, Sir. The reason is that you're my handler.'
'This dedication and loyalty, this absolute devotion... Why? You're not forced... I don't understand what this means.'
James voice once again sounds the slightest bit frustrated and Zemo starts thinking his questions are bothering the man. But they needed to be answered, regardless.
'I don't have a word for... What this is. I just know that I can't live without it.'
Zemo pondered about what James had revealed to him for a few long moments, walking up and down in front of the bars, thinking.
'Do you remember how your last mission ended?'
The man's eyes darted around for a second, doubtlessly trying to piece together his memories and put them into context.
'You... ordered me to give you a mission report and then to... go to the HYDRA base in Siberia to destroy the other Winter Soldiers.'
So the last mission that actively registered for him with me as his handler was indeed when he was under the influence of the trigger words, nothing from the past year. My confusion about why he hasn't been like... this... a year ago grew.
'What else did I order you to do?'
'I... Was to not let myself be stopped and eliminate any threats to the mission.'
'You have a good memory.'
'I failed...' James mumbled, a deep frown appearing on his face.
'That's right. Steve Rogers prevented you from accomplishing the mission. Why did you not kill him?'
James knelt in silence for a while, staring at the ground and I watched his face closely. Then, a flicker of shame crossed his face.
'Because Bucky Barnes loved him.'
'Correct... So how do you think, you want to follow orders? Feelings will continue getting in your way, because James Barnes is you and you are James Barnes. And James Barnes hasn't been meant to... follow orders.'
A dark shadow crept over his face as he lowered his chin, his voice void of any emotion when he spoke next.
'James Barnes is dead. And so is Steve Rogers.'
The determination and desperation within him astounded me. He wanted to serve so badly, he denied himself his identity as a human. Sadness filled my chest as I looked down at him with compassion.
'I'm starting to understand what you meant, when you said this bond is... sacred.' I kneel down in front of him, looking right at him as I continue speaking. 'I was the last person to have that bond with you. I know how important it is to you and I know that being controlled has become a crucial part of who you feel you are... To the point of feeling you can't live without it. But James... Is that really what you want? Is your life truly only worth living, if you can obey me...?'
'Only then, Sir.'
Sadness starts to creep up inside me, my throat getting tight, the compassion for this man threatening to choke me up.
'What would happen, if you didn't have me telling you what to do?'
'There is no asset without a handler.'
'Or if you failed to obey me?'
'Failure means punishment.'
I sigh deeply, his determination about continuing his own undoing breaking my heart.
'And what would you do if I... left? If I told you I didn't need you as an asset anymore?'
'I might end my existence.'
My eyes widen at this revelation and tears well up in my eyes. I have been at that point before, I knew exactly how much hurt and hopelessness led to making that decision and I was stunned for a few seconds, too shocked to speak, as James revealed to me he was fully ready to not live without what he asked of me.
'It is... Quite stunning.' I spoke as my gaze softened. 'All of the pain I inflicted upon you... I thought it would destroy you. I thought it would break you and make you hate me. But instead it caused devotion and loyalty within you... You are my biggest failure and at the same time my greatest success.'
'I am whatever you want me to be...'
'How about... you try being yourself for a moment? Be James Buchanan Barnes. Let yourself be free of my leash, at least for now.'
'James Buchanan Barnes is dead. I am not him.' he says quietly, repeating the same statement as earlier.
The frustration wells up inside of me full force once again, his denial and... delusion, agitating me. I wanted to make him realize, he didn't need to have a handler... I wanted to make him realize- a lot. Everything.
'I have something to ask of you.'
'Да.' James says immediately, his gaze becoming hopeful as he looks up at me. I can't suppress the warm feeling spreading through me, knowing that I cause... so much hope within this man, who has been broken so many times. It's almost enough to erase my frustration.
'Promise me that you'll never try to hurt me. No matter what.'
'I promise, Sir.'
'Good. Now... If I asked you to stop calling me Sir, would you be able to do it?'
'I'll call you whatever you wish, Sir.'
'In that case... I want you to stop calling me Sir right now.'
He nods, confirming he understands. My heart is up in my throat for some reason and I'm starting to get annoyed at myself. I choose my next words wisely, taking a deep breath before I start speaking.
'Now I want you to say something out loud. Something you have never said before, I assume. I want you to say 'my name is James Buchanan Barnes and I am a human being. I deserve respect and I deserve to make my own decisions.' Say it.'
My eyes are studying him intently, he speaks up without hesitation and with a monotone voice, repeating the exact same words.
'My name is James Buchanan Barnes and I am a human being. I deserve respect and I deserve to make my own decisions.'
His eyes... His eyes were just as hollow as before. He could repeat these words, but the meaning was lost on him. I felt pity for him.
'I want you to memorize it. To make it a fact of your life. Your reality. To accept it as the truth. That you are a human being like any other and that you are not something to be used as an asset.'
A frown appears on his face and his brows furrow. I take in every detail of his expression, needing to be absolutely sure he understands.
'I want you to believe every single word. And I can give you as much time as you need.' I say, taking a step back while I keep my eyes on him.
I can see a muscle twitching in his jaw from clenching his teeth, his eyes darting over the ground wildly, thinking.
'It's difficult, isn't it?' I ask with a soft compassionate tone of voice.
'M-Malfunction. I can't... But I have to. I need to-' his voice is strained as he's fighting his own mind, his muscles tense. I decide to speak back up, making my voice a bit more firm and confident.
'You do deserve respect. And you do deserve to make your own decisions, James.'
'I... I don't want it.' he says, sounding more like a whimper than a sentence.
Resistance? Interesting...
'Why not?'
'I don't want it. I don't want my own decisions. I don't want respect... I want my handler.' he says, as I see tears welling up in his eyes, his body trembling slightly.
I sigh and look at him with concern in my eyes, I'll repeat myself as often as I have to.
'You are worth more than that James, more than being an asset. You deserve to think for yourself, to have your own dreams, your own desires… You are worth more than being controlled.'
He hisses in frustration. 'W-why... can I not want? Please... If I can make decisions... and dream, and desire... I can want. And I want my handler...'
I remain silent for a moment, his determination is closer to stubbornness in my view now.
'Then you need to decide, whether or not you want your handler... to also be your friend. I have treated you awfully in the past, I am sorry for that and there is no excuse for all those horrible things I made you do. I don’t expect your forgiveness, but I do want you to know, that I would be willing to release you from my leash.'
'I am aware of freedom.'
'But you don't want freedom, do you?' I add in a slightly harsher tone.
'No, I don't...'
'So, you want to remain in this state? Being an asset to me? With no other desires, no other thoughts, no other relationships?'
A deep breathy sigh escapes him. 'Yes, please...'
My agitation is peaking, but my curiosity also is, my pulse picking up as I think about my next order.
'Then... Tell me something you want from me right now. As your handler.'
His eyes lift up, meeting my gaze, tears threatening to spill as his voice becomes barely more than a raspy little plead.
'Please, tell me I did good...'
And just like that, my agitation dissolves like a knot untied. It is not stubbornness that causes his unbreaking determination. It is loneliness and fear...
'You did good. You always did better than I expected you to. You were never a failure as an asset and you were always a good soldier… And I know that you did your best.' I say with a soothing, quiet voice and I mean every single word I say, a warm feeling spreading through me.
James lets out a deep stuttering breath, his eyes closing and his body visibly relaxing as very apparent relief washes over him.
'I want you to promise me... That you will never try to end your life. Even if you think about it.'
'I... promise.' his voice is full of sorrow and exhaustion and hesitation as he complies and agrees to the promise. I'm... not entirely convinced he means it, but I can't do more for him.
'Can I ask- Why did you order me, not to call you Sir?' he asks hesitantly, almost shyly.
'I wanted you to see me as something more than just your handler. I wanted you to know that even if you are my asset, you are still human.'
'Do you... dislike when I call you Sir?'
I smile slightly and then shake my head. 'No, you can call me Sir, if that's what you want. It doesn’t bother me, but I felt that you deserved to know, that you aren’t just a mindless puppet. That you are, in fact, much more than that...'
'I acknowledge that, Sir.'
Of course he does.
'And I want you to know, that while I may be your handler, I wouldn't treat you like an asset. I care for you deeply and I wish for you to be happy...'
My words don't seem to even reach the man, it's like they're completely deflected by his determination to reach his goal. Even though I am concerned for his mental state, my curiosity starts to get the best of me.
'Your state... You look like you haven't been sleeping. Or eating for that matter. Why are you deteriorating so much?'
'I haven't... Done well lately.' he says with some hesitation.
'What do you mean you haven’t done well lately? What’s been going on?'
'I have struggled to maintain myself and perform everyday tasks. I could barely keep food down. I can't remember when I...' he frowns, thinking for a few seconds. 'I cannot remember when I last slept. Everything became a blur and... My mind feels like it's melting.'
'You haven’t had a good period recently, have you? You’ve been struggling with your mind and your body and I’m sorry for that…'
I start wondering, if I hadn't been in prison the past year, if his state would've been any different now. 'I wish I could've helped you…'
'That's what I'm here for.'
'Tell me... Is it being hungry, but feeling afraid to eat because of the pain it would cause?'
He sighs heavily and says 'Да. I struggle with it all the time...'
'Have you ever felt like this before? That eating will result in more pain, so you have to resist the urge to eat, even if you are famished?'
'Yes, Sir. After I escaped HYDRA in DC. For... the first time, I was free in a long time. I struggled a lot to maintain myself because the rules weren't clear to me and I didn't... know anything. My body works differently after all those years in HYDRA.'
'I see... And have you ever experienced the same struggles with sleep? Does it cause you pain?'
'Not physically. Sleep is... scaring me. It's like a doorway to everything bad. I'm terrified of it. I also struggle to... initiate the process of rest without orders from a handler. I'm constantly fighting protocols in my head about everything I do. That's what HYDRA left behind...'
'What happens in your mind when you’re trying to sleep? Why is it so horrible?' I ask, a barely noticeable tremble running through him.
'Memories. Horrible things I can't remember doing. Torture I can't remember experiencing. Every night it's all new and real, it's haunting me... I wake up with such immense panic and guilt, I feel the need to be punished. But there is no handler, I cannot ask...'
'Is there a way to control the memories? A way to stop them from torturing you like that?'
Hesitation and a flicker of fear appear on his face, his jaw tight when he speaks next.
'You're familiar with the mind wipe process of the Winter Soldier program?'
'Yes, I am very familiar with it.' I say, fully remembering my studies and the inhuman ways HYDRA tortured James.
'The electricity. It's all gone afterwards... But it's temporary. My body and brain heal too quickly and when the memories come back... I start to malfunction.'
An idea is forming in my mind.
'Does it only affect the last memory or does it make you forget your entire history?'
'It usually made me forget everything aside from what HYDRA wanted. Selectively. I don't know how. But they had ways of deleting memories of missions I had just accomplished without erasing my long term training, education and abilities.'
'Do you want that again right now? To keep the memories at bay?'
His eyes are now laced with fear, looking at me in concern.
'I... No. The process is pure torture. I don't want it. I just... Need a handler.'
'The problem is, that with every day that passes you are getting less stable and harder to control. You said it yourself... That the memories get worse and worse and you can't function properly anymore. Sooner or later you wouldn't be able to function at all anymore without me directly ordering you at every single moment...'
The sheer amount of responsibility connected to James' request starts really sink in to me. It would cause the other man to be completely dependent on me. I felt conflicting emotions within me about this knowledge, not really able to tell how exactly I felt about it. It was a lot to take in.
'I know what I'm asking is a lot. And if you at any point wish to erase me... I'll comply with it. I know where the remaining machines are stored.'
I couldn't believe the man would be willing to expose himself to torture just to have a handler by his side. The dependency and utter helplessness he showed with his decisions stunned me beyond compare.
'Answer me this...' I request, taking a deep breath. 'Are you prepared to start fresh? To leave your past behind? To move forward and live the life you want without looking back?'
The relief at hearing my words was apparent on his face, his whole body relaxing at my words.
'Yes, Sir... There is nothing left I want to take with me. I'll go wherever you wanna take me.'
'Then you'd trust me enough to make a fundamental change in your life?'
'Yes, I do.'
It would not be easy to get out of prison. Even... if it was just for a short time. But neither would it be impossible, if the well-being and survival of a man as important to the government as James Barnes was on the line.
My gaze is laser focused on his when I speak next, my words slow and clear.
'I want you to let me delete your memory. Not just your recent memory. I would like to wipe your mind clean of everything. Like it was the first time you opened your eyes. I would give you a fresh start. That’s my offer.'
I take in his reaction in anticipation, expecting to see relief, but what I find surprises me. His eyes are widening in fear and he looks down, thinking, his eyes darting frantically while he processes my offer.
'I know it seems like an extreme thing to do. But your problems have only grown worse and worse and they won’t stop. It’s like a sinking ship at this point. I know there is no guarantee that the memories won't... Resurface again. But I think it would be worth a try. I want to give you a chance to forget everything and have a new beginning.'
James' eyes start to zone out more and more while I speak. I'm not reaching him. I can see it clear as day. The man stands up fluidly, turning his back to me.
'You reject me?' he asks, his tone cold.
Surprise and confusion fills me.
'No, I don't reject you, this is an offer, I-'
'You are. You don't want to be my handler.'
He turns his head and his face is expressionless, completely void of emotion. But his eyes... His stunning icy glare is filled with resentment and disappointment when he looks at me. And it hurts... to see him look at me that way.
'I’m offering you to start fresh. To become the person that you could’ve been without the Winter Soldier program, without all the trauma that has been inflicted upon you... A person who doesn’t have to worry about being just an asset. A person that lives for his own sake and his own desires. I want to help you, I want you to be free from the pain that you’ve been suffering from for so long now. But if you don’t wish to be that person then I will accept that.'
'Then you're truly no better than HYDRA. They ever cared to respect my wishes... To listen. And neither do you care.'
That leaves me speechless, my composure starting to crumble, while a sense of... guilt fills me.
'No. I am not. You are not interpreting my offer correctly. You would still be able to ask whatever you want. You wouldn't be an asset anymore. You would be able to think for yourself, you would have the freedom to decide for yourself… I am offering you this because I care for you and I want you to be happy.'
James turns back around to face me, his eyes now as cold and expressionless as his face, even his voice lacks any sign of emotion.
'And if free James Buchanan Barnes came to you... And asked you to control and dominate and punish him, to be the center of his life so he can follow your every demand... Would you accept him?'
Free James Buchanan Barnes... He thinks a free man, a truly free individual, would consciously choose to submit himself to another person completely and give himself up to their control? My heart breaks at this realization. That is not what I want for him.
'I wouldn't be able to bring myself to do that. I could never control anyone like that, let alone someone I care for so deeply. There would be no point, no true trust could be built upon such a premise. I wouldn’t enjoy you serving me and forcing you to follow my orders. I would never agree to a dynamic like that.'
'Then you're rejecting me.' he states matter-of-factly, my face falling.
'Goodbye, Zemo.'
His eyes leave mine and he turns and leaves the prison cell in slow controlled strides, not taking a single breath on his way out. And neither am I, stunned into silence.
I watch James walk away and I can’t help but feel a sense of... shame. I failed at responding to his emotional state effectively and somehow ended up pushing him away and destabilizing him further… That was the last thing I intended.
I take a deep breath and sigh, my gaze slowly trailing on the ground while I walk in circles and whisper to myself. 'Maybe I am no better than any of the others...'
But if I truly was like the other handlers I would’ve done what James wanted me to do without a second thought, right? He asked me to be his handler and I refused... Anyone from his past in HYDRA would have accepted his request without hesitation, because they wouldn’t care for his wellbeing.
I continue to pace, the thoughts and disappointment about the situation weighing heavy on me. I can't bring myself to focus on anything else, even long after the other man was gone.
Unable to stop myself from thinking about him, how he must feel right now, I wonder if he thinks that I've betrayed him.
I stop in my tracks when I remember he mentioned, he might end his existence if I didn't accept his offer. I made him promise to me he wouldn't... But I'm not his handler. Will he still keep that promise now?
Dread and concern fills me.
And plan forms in my mind. I just hope it'll be not too late to prevent the worst from happening.