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

Chapter 2

Despite the cold air over the open ocean, Zemo insisted on having the window of the chopper cracked most of the way back to the mainland. "You have no idea," he had said to Bucky, "...how nice it is to smell the sea instead of being submerged in it."

Bucky was not a talkative man at the best of times, so he wasn't much of a conversation partner. Part of that was practicality. They needed to talk away from prying eyes. SWORD had provided escort, and the agents were doing a great deal of side-eyeing the Sokovian.

Eventually, they were settled in a Prague safehouse - a set of rooms nestled in the city centre, conveniently located but with ways to come and go without attracting much attention.

"I see you have not completely forgotten about me in all these years, James. This was..." Zemo walked over to a counter and opened up a box to reveal a cluster of stale Turkish Delights, "...my safehouse once. Did you locate it? The Global Repatriation Council? The CIA?"

Bucky watched Zemo. The man looked not quite as lively as even the first time they had met in prison. He had shaggy hair and a full beard.The gray crewneck and simple denim were a world away from the flashy jacket and neat suits, or even the military gear he had donned in the past. He seemed...tired. Maybe even a little broken.

"I found it," said Bucky. "Well, me and Sam did. There were more than we thought. And many of them have been useful." He stood and crossed the room, pulling a small case out of his luggage.

"Yes, how is Mister Wilson? Personally, that is," Zemo gestured vaguely and ran his fingers over a handful of knick-knacks on the shelf, mostly tourist trinkets. "I've been following your exploits with what news they give me. He seems to be settling into his role as the new Captain America quite nicely. And you, people know your name now." He glanced over at the other man. "Which must be a strange thing for you. I mean..." he gestured, "There were those of us who always knew who you were. But that's different than standing at the arm of the man who is a symbol of justice."

Bucky's jaw tightened and he popped open the case. "A condition of your release."

Zemo's eyes went to the case, at the unobtrusive-looking gold cuff that would serve the same purpose as an ankle monitor. "Well," he said with a small smile, "...at least you had the courtesy to make it stylish." He stepped over to Bucky and held out his wrist, like a man consenting to being handcuffed.

Bucky slipped the cuff out of the case and snapped it onto Zemo's wrist. The device made a very definitive locking sound and a blue light glowed momentarily before disappearing.

"And thus, I am free, yet imprisoned again. You have my leash, James," Zemo gestured. "Now which way will you lead me?"

Bucky looked the other man in the eye for a long moment. He'd never been afraid of eye contact, but that was because it rarely gave him away. But there was something in the slight cant of the other man's head that made him feel suddenly a bit too seen. He looked away. "We'll talk about that in the morning. I've gotten you cleared for access to intelligence reports about the virus. I have a few ideas on where to start, but the reason you're here is because my ideas about where to look have been coming up short. And it's only a matter of time before this thing spreads and starts to really threaten the Wakandans."

Zemo nodded once and rubbed his wrist, turning over his hand to examine the bracelet. "Yes, I will need to see those reports before I can make any recommendations. I also have a few ideas as to who might be the players in this game. If they are in fact, still active and you and Sam haven't already captured them, of course." There was a note of admiration in his voice. "But for now, yes, rest seems a good idea. I am, if it is all right with you..." he walked over to a small cupboard and made a pleased, "Ah," sound when he found it still stocked with essentials. "...going to clean up and then get some rest." He pulled down a razor and a can of shaving cream.

Bucky crossed the room briskly. Before he could think too hard about it, he reached out with his human hand to grab hold of Zemo's wrist. "Don't shave." A moment hovered between them as the Sokovian waited for an explanation. Bucky fished a bit and then said, "...there's still a lot of people gunning for you. It would be better if you were a little bit harder to recognize."

It was a weak excuse, and both men knew it. That was as close as Bucky had gotten to the Zemo since they arrived. He could feel the other man's pulse from where he was still gripping his wrist. It was steady, strong, but quickened just enough to give him an odd spike of pleasure. He released it after a moment and stepped back.

"Very well. Just a trim, then?" said Zemo as he put the shaving cream and razor down for a pair of snub-nosed scissors. He snipped the air with a look that suggested he was asking for the Wolf's permission.

Bucky turned and walked away, trying to give the impression he didn't care one way or another. He zipped up his suitcase and picked it up to carry it towards one of the bedrooms. "Just don't leave the building. I'll get notified if you do. And if you get more than three blocks from me without authorization, the local authorities will be called in and your ass is back on the Raft."

"Understood," said Zemo. He paused a moment. "I have no intention of betraying you, James. Unlike last time, this mission is not personal. You and Sam have quite neatly finished my work with eliminating the distribution of the serum. And as you said when you came to me, I do owe the Wakandans a great debt. It is one I do intend to do my best to repay."

It made Bucky's shoulders hunch just how damned sincere Zemo sounded. He allowed himself to look back over his shoulder at the other man. He really did look like he meant it. And if there was one thing that Helmut Zemo was, it was a man of his word. Sometimes that word was as tricky as a genie's wish, but he very rarely outright lied. That was one of the things that, in spite of everything, made him like the other man. And made him wish he could run his fingers through the scruff on the Baron's cheeks.

Bucky's look lingered a moment longer, then he just grunted and headed for his room before he said or did something he'd regret.