Blades & Ballet | Bucky x Reader

Thirteen

Changed out of the guard uniform and into civilian clothing, Zemo leads us across the tarmac toward his private plane.

"So, all this time, you've been rich?" Sam asks.

"I'm a Baron, Sam," Zemo reminds him. My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.

When we reach the plane, an elderly gentleman greets us in Russian. "Welcome."

"Hello, Oeznik. Old friend," Zemo greets in turn, kissing the man of each cheek before turning to us and switching to English. "Please."

We follow Zemo onto the plane, settling into the large seats.

Once in the air, Ozenik brings Zemo a glass of champagne. "Apologies if that's a little warm. The fridge is out. But I will see if there is some good food in the galley."

With a sly glance at us, Zemo replies in Sokovian, a language I don't speak.

"It's good to have you back, sir," Oeznik chuckles, turning to head to the galley.

"You don't know what it's like to be locked in a cell," Zemo mutters before catching Sam's eye. "Oh. That's right. You do."

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?" Sam retorts.

"I'm sorry," Zemo replies, glancing down at the book in his hands. "I was just fascinated by this. I don't know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is 'Nakajima'?"

From within the pages of his book, Zemo lifts my notebook into view, and I lunge, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him to his chair.

"If you touch that again, I'll kill you," I threaten, ripping my notebook from his hands and returning to my seat.

"I'm sorry," Zemo says. "I understand that list of names. People you've wronged as the Winter Soldier."

"Don't push it," I warn him before catching Y/n's curious glance in my direction. Her eyes quickly snap down to the dagger she's sharpening.

"I've seen that book," Sam tells me. "It was Steve's when he came out of the ice. I told him about 'Trouble Man.' He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What'd you think?"

"I like '40s music, so..." I trail off.

"You didn't like it?" Sam asks, surprised.

"I liked it," I reply.

"It's a masterpiece, James," Zemo adds. "Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience."

Sam gives him a look before turning back to me. "He's out of line, but he's right. It's great. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye."

"I like Marvin Gaye," I state.

"Steve adored Marvin Gaye," Sam declares.

"You must have really looked up to Steve," Zemo remarks. "But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America's Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals."

"Watch your step, Zemo," Sam warns.

"They become symbols," Zemo continues. "Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought. You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?" Zemo shakes his head. "That's why we are going to Madripoor."

Y/n sighs in disgust.

"You've been?" Zemo asks.

"Unfortunately," Y/n replies, looking up from her dagger. "It's not exactly a place I want to go back to..."

"What's up with Madripoor?" Sam questions. "You guys talk about it like it's Skull Island."

"Honestly, it could be," Y/n answers. "It's an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago used as a pirate sanctuary in the 1800s... It's kept its lawless ways since then..."

"How'd you end up there?" Sam prompts her.

Y/n glances between us, letting out a sigh. "It's a long story... I floated around, eventually ended up there, tried making a few bucks using the only skills I had."

"And what skills are those?" Zemo asks. Y/n doesn't answer, leaning back in her chair and flipping her dagger before tucking it up her sleeve. Zemo chuckles, but doesn't press further. "Regardless, we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone."