Came for the Low- Revised

Untitled Part 27

The gate opened and Zemo floored it down the drive, relieved to find the house still standing, but no less afraid for what he might discover inside.

    He scrambled out of the car, bursting through the front door to find the entry way undisturbed. No sign of a break-in at all.

    Heart pounding and terrified—well aware that not all killers like to make a mess— Zemo walked through to the sitting room which was as neat and clean as it'd been when he left this morning. Still though, something was wrong. The house felt as silent as a tomb.

    Hands shaking as he slowly walked, Zemo thought to call out for them but could not seem to find his voice. He curled his fingers into fists to stop them shaking and kept moving.

    To the left of the large sitting room was the open archway out to the patio were they would often eat breakfast in the mornings, but it was empty now. His eyes darted ahead where he could see down the hall towards the dining room, but there was no one, not a sound...only the hum of the fans going in the summer heat.

    Forcing himself to keep walking in spite of it feeling like time had slowed, he waded through the terror that threatened to drag him under. Nearing despair, it was his son who put an end to the agony.

    "Papa!" Ansel came running around the corner with all the enthusiastic awkwardness of a toddling child and Zemo took his true first breath since walking in.

That bouncing mop of light brown curls, and those big bright eyes gripped his father's heart to the point of breaking as Zemo knelt to scoop him up before they could collide.

Tears burned his eyes as he embraced the boy, kissing his face until Ansel pulled away grinning and Zemo quickly pressed his fingers to his eyes stopping the tears. He did not want his son to see him like this and be afraid.

    "You're back!" The boy said happily.

    Zemo nodded, the sound his laughter laced with relief and love as he steadied himself, holding Ansel high in his arms. "Where is mama?" He asked in Sokovian, his voice strangled by emotion.

    Being a Tri-lingual child, Ansel understood easily but still gave him a curious look. He could tell something was wrong. Still —brilliant or not— the boy was just hardly out of diapers. He understood that his father was upset but not so much that he thought to ask why.

    Zemo gave Ansel's little nose a pinch making him giggle. The boy looked around thinking, finally smiling down at his father. He hugged Zemo's face with his chubby hands. "Mama's in the garden." He replied in their language, frowning and looking over his shoulder out the open doors. "She won't get up."

    Not giving the thought a moment to fester, Zemo clutched his son close and ran to the back of the house, through the kitchen and conservatory, out onto the patio where he could see down into the garden.

    "Christine!" He called but there was no answer. He shouted her name again taking heavy steps towards the rosemary and oregano. "Christine!"

    "What!" She shouted back. Her voice was coming from the pool.

    Quickly Zemo took the path between the large trees and found her lying on one of the lounge chairs squinting up at him from across the flagstone.

    "Did you bring the bread?" She asked oblivious to the panic. "And why are you shouting like that?"

    He stopped on the path exhaling deeply, the sight of her alive and pregnant and angry enough to remind him why he'd taken a chance all that time ago in the basement of the camp. Everything was for her...

    Pushing down the panic, Zemo just smiled and shook his head a little "I- I don't know, I'm sorry." He lied.

    She stared at him, her eyes narrowing a bit. It was clear that something was wrong and he had no intention of telling her just yet, but she could play this game too. She just nodded.

    "He said you wouldn't get up..." Zemo added, his voice light.

    "Oh" She shrugged. "I'm just tired—that's all. And our sweet boy would not let his mama sleep" She said only pretending to be angry with him. "I'm happy you're back." She smiled, shielding her eyes.

    Zemo looked at Ansel, still content in his fathers arms and kissed his cheek before sitting him down to let the boy run to his mother. "I—uh—forgot your bread in the car, sorry. I'll go get it now. And then we'll let you rest, yes?"

    She nodded and held out her arms, pulling Ansel up onto the chair with her as she picked up all the uneasy vibes her husband was failing to conceal. Forgetting her cravings in the car were the least of their worries if that awful tone in his voice when he'd shouted her name was any indication, but for now she let it be.

For his part, Zemo was happy to just watch as Ansel crawled up on top of Christine, his little legs curving around the small swell of her stomach and the man thanked the stars above that they were alive.

    And yet, no sooner had he felt the relief did the reality of what this all meant come rushing in.

    Turning to go back into the house, he felt his old temperament rising to the surface. After a few years of living so peacefully, he'd nearly forgotten what it was to straddle the line between giving in to the madness and controlling his rage.

    "Sir" Oeznik was there, waiting for him at the garden door. Speaking in Sokovian he asked if the trip to town had been a good one.

    "Yes, but we must speak now. Come to my study." Zemo answered charging past.

    The two of them went through the sprawling Hacienda to the far end where his office was. It was an understated room with large windows that looked out to the hilly countryside.

    "Something has happened Oeznik," Zemo said with his arms crossed as he went to gaze out at the view. The butler shut the heavy door waiting patiently to let the man gather his thoughts in silence. "But I saw it in your eyes" Zemo turned to look at him "You have news for me as well. Someone came here to the house while I was out, didn't they?" He'd already put it together.

    The older man nodded looking aggrieved. "I'm sorry sir, I hate to be the one to show you, but I will not keep it from you either." He said walking up to large wooden desk that had belong to Heinrich, Helmut's father. "Something did happen while you were away. Neither the lady of the house, nor your son have any idea, but I found these— placed on the front step." From his breast pocket, the butler pulled small clinking objects. "The deliverer was gone by the time I answered the door, so I did not see who left them, but I don't think that really matters."

    Zemo knew that sound, it was a warning and a threat.

    With a deep sadness, Oeznik sat each bullet down, his hand shaking but his placement precise. "Z. C. And A." He stepped back. "One for each of you."

    Zemo stood staring down at the bullets with letters carved into them, his eyes glazing over he went without blinking for so long.

    Two years.

    They'd had two perfect years with their baby and one another, but it seemed good things must always come to an end for him. This span of peace would be no different.

    "It's time." Zemo said looking up at Oeznik.

    The butler averted his eyes, unable to take the pain of loosing the family and gave a single nod. "I'll make the call and have things prepared." He said and left Zemo alone to sit in his chair— his mind blank, his heart shattered.

    No. The Baron scolded himself. Better to set them aside than lose them completely. It was a possibility that had lived with them since the day they met, hanging like a dark cloud off in the distance.

    Well, he sighed slowly, the storm had finally come.

    Some things were simply inevitable.