Blood Debt - The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Bucky x Zemo)

Prologue

Riga, Latvia
Dring the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Zemo emerged from the bathroom in the Riga apartments. He wore a deep blue bathrobe and was towel-drying his hair. Things were relatively quiet, which was a relief given the whirlwind of private jet rides and dodging bullets that had constituted the last several days.

Bucky was sitting on the couch, flipping idly through a book. He was anxious, coiled with energy he didn't know how to displace. And Zemo had no TV to mindlessly watch. That wasn't a modern habit he had taken to, in any case. Hence the book.

"Where's Sam?" Zemo asked as he crossed, stride commanding the room.

Bucky looked up from the book, jaw set. "He went for a walk."

"You are both avid walkers. Is he meeting with the Dora as well?" Zemo snatched a kettle from the counter and began filling it with water. "Tea?"

"No," said Bucky.

"James. Is something the matter?"

Bucky stood and slapped the book down on the table. "No. Everything's fine," he said sardonically. "Shouldn't you be more worried? The Dora are coming for you. They're going to haul you away whether we get to Karli or not." It was really pretty infuriating how calm Zemo seemed in spite of everything. The smug confidence grated on him.

Zemo motioned with one hand and then scooped some tea into a waiting tea pot while the water boiled. "Every moment past Siberia where T'Challa stopped me from swallowing a bullet has been merely an epilogue to my life. I intend to enjoy these stolen moments." He smiled in a way that was far too content for a man who just admitted to nihilism. But there was a sadness in his dark eyes even if those words did ring true.

Bucky crossed the room towards the kitchen, head tilting as he took a long look at Zemo's face. There was a question hovering on the edge of his expression - something he was clearly wrestling with asking. After a moment, he broke eye contact and shook his head, then went towards the bar to pull down a bottle of the most expensive-looking of the Baron's whiskey.

The other man watched him, reading the former Winter Soldier's tense body language. "When you came to me in prison to discuss this whole endeavor, did you not wonder why I did not ask for my freedom in exchange for helping you?" said Zemo as he slowly poured the water into the teapot. The soft scent of cherry blossoms bloomed almost immediately. "I fully expect that I will end up back in prison when our mission is complete. Your friends in the Dora Milaje will see to that."

Bucky's jaw set and he uncorked the bottle, sloshing a generous amount of whiskey into a crystal tumbler. He eyed the other man again, wordlessly watching as he prepared tea. The more Zemo talked, the quieter Bucky became.

"If there is something on your mind, James, I do wish you would just say it," said Zemo.

Despite the fact that this was the man who framed him, who made him a wanted man, who nearly got him and Steve killed, who controlled him and used him as a weapon, there was something about the sketchy Sokovian that Bucky liked. And he was angry at himself for that.

How can I judge him when I've done worse?

If there was one thing Helmut Zemo was, it was a man of conviction. It was hard not to respect that. And so far, he had done everything he said he would do.

Bucky grabbed another tumbler and carried it and the bottle towards the kitchen. He made a little show of filling the glass up as much as his own, then pushing it towards the Sokovian. Dark liquid sloshed up the glass and nearly spilled on the counter.

"That's hardly the way to treat fine scotch, James. Each drop is worth a considerable amount. And you..." Zemo stopped and watched as Bucky shot back three fingers worth of 50 year old single malt in two mouthfuls. "Ah."