Chapter Text
What if I'm far from home?
Oh brother, I will hear you call
What if I lose it all?
Oh sister, I will help you out
Oh, if the sky comes falling down
For you
There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do
Avicii, Hey brother
Loki woke up in the morning to the sound of pouring rain outside. Cap was already up, sharp and focused, all the softness from the night gone.
‘’Natasha found something,’’ he informed Loki. ‘’She’ll send more information soon. Things tend to get done very quickly if you know where to look,’’ he added with sudden anger, immediately regretting using this tone in the slave’s presence a moment after. Luckily, Loki seemed unfazed.
The truth was, Steve was mad, but at himself. Answers had been right under his nose this whole time. Why hadn’t he come across them earlier? His head was full of what-ifs scenarios.
After Pierce’s criminal empire got dismantled, thousands, if not more, of previously confidential documents had seen the light. Captain had spent countless hours reading and analysing them. Natasha, Peggy and Sam had been doing exactly the same thing. They all knew perfectly well about his search. Why neither of them had come across a trace of Bucky? Why nothing rang a bell? Zola might have been lying, but since Natasha claimed to have a lead based on what the man shared with Steve, it wasn’t a probable thing. There must have been something valid enough for her to connect the dots and draw conclusions. Something they must have missed before.
She called him earlier in the morning. Steve wouldn’t have been surprised if she had been working all night on what he gave her, even if by no means she sounded tired.
‘’Have you ever heard about Baron Helmut Zemo?’’ She asked.
‘’I don’t think so, why?’’
‘’Sokovian Intelligence. Has quite a reputation in certain circles. Wealthy, well-connected, refined, but not afraid to get his hands dirty when he deems it necessary, highly intelligent and best of all, currently residing in America. We won’t have to travel far.’’
Her voice was even, factual, as usual.
‘’Why should we see him?’’ Steve asked, even if deep down he already knew the answer. He just had to hear it with his own ears.
Something in Natasha’s voice softened slightly, just enough for him to catch it.
‘’I think he has Bucky, Steve. There’s a proof of sale of someone matching Bucky’s description to a tee.‘’
Steve’s heart slowed down when he was processing these words. They were close, almost there, but what could turn out to be the hardest part was still before them. He was getting a much-coveted confirmation that he wasn’t chasing a ghost, but each discovery also meant arising trepidation about what he was going to find next.
‘’What exact use could someone like Zemo have for Bucky?’’ He asked aloud.
Natasha hesitated briefly.
‘’We can’t be certain, but there are certain clues.’’
‘’Clues?’’ He echoed.
‘’Bucky was a skilled soldier. An excellent fighter. Pierce knew that.’’
Steve rubbed his forehead, already guessing where this was going. He had spent more than enough time studying Pierce’s actions and motives to deduce immediately what had been the man’s plans for Bucky. The plan that could have still been implemented by whoever had taken control over Bucky.
‘’He aimed to turn Bucky into the weapon. Most probably succeeded,’’ he concluded.
‘’Most probably,’’ Natasha agreed tonelessly.
Steve forced himself to focus on facts. He couldn’t afford to be carried away by his emotions, no matter how hard it seemed.
‘’And what would Zemo have from it? Protection? I bet he had plenty of that even without Bucky.’’
‘’This is one option. There are also the others, not entirely excluding themselves.’’
She didn’t need to explain that any further as well. A couple of images flashed through Captain’s mind, each one worse than the previous one. If Zemo was at the same time intelligent, power-hungry, rich and needed constant stimulation, Steve could have imagined what that it could have meant for Bucky. Men like Zemo did a lot of things, just because they could. Sometimes it was a power play, sometimes just a simple past time. Steve had been crossing paths with these people often enough to at least partially knew what to expect.
‘’Damn these rich folks and their shiny things,’’ he growled through clenched teeth, feeling his anger rising to the dangerous level.
Natasha mercifully didn’t point out that technically he was now one of those rich folks.
‘’First, we need to confirm that Zemo has Bucky. Second, get him to sell him. I’ll get to you as fast as I can.’’
‘’You’re coming?’’
‘’Don’t sound so surprised. Of course I’m coming.’’
‘’You’ve done so much for me already. You don’t have to come. I’ll handle it.’’
‘’I’m not letting you go there on your own,’’ she said firmly.
‘’Nat… I don’t want to underestimate that man, but I faced much worse danger.’’
‘’You’re not exactly thinking straight when it comes to Bucky and you know it.’’
It hurt, but she was right. Steve usually had no problem with cold and rational thinking, even under fire, especially under fire, but Bucky was his trigger, his open wound. Now, when he knew that he was the closest to finding him that he ever was, it became even harder to think with his head and not his heart. Especially considering that they should tread double as carefully as always, as they were risking a diplomatic incident here.
"You're acting like I'm going to do something stupid," he claimed nevertheless.
"Steve," Natasha said flatly, "I've known you for years. Please don’t try to convince me you never acted on impulse. Especially when you see injustice."
Steve rubbed a hand across his face, realizing he was fighting a lost battle. Besides, this Zemo sounded like a sly fox and there was no better person to deal with this kind of people than Natasha. ‘’Okay,’’ he agreed meekly.
‘’Promise me you won’t do anything before I’ll get there, Steve. You can’t just barge right there and take Bucky back by force. The sale was valid. Zemo owns him legally.’’
Sale, slavery, ownership. It all still seemed so foreign when it was referring about Bucky, even after all that Steve had seen with his own eyes.
‘’Legally? Bucky should have never been enslaved in first place. How could it even be legal?’’
‘’Once Bucky got into the system, most probably no one bothered to double check his status. Zemo acquired him in good faith, with all the documents and warranties in order, just like you did with Loki,’’ she explained matter-of-factly.
That wasn’t the nicest thing to hear, but Steve supposed he kind of deserved it. He did acquire Loki. He owned him, for crying out loud. He had definitely too much power over him than anyone should ever had over another human.
He made his choice and knowing what he knew now, he would have done it again. Because Bucky was out there, almost in his reach.
It didn’t mean it made him feel any less guilty about what he did to Loki.
‘’It looks like that after Pierce’s death, most of his slaves were being sold out on the free market,’’ Natasha continued. ‘’Well, not so free. Almost of all of them went to people of wealth and position. What matters, is that in all that mayhem, the slave issue got vastly overlooked. Everybody assumed they had no real value for the case except of the market one. The government wanted to kill two birds with one stone. To have Pierce’s slaves handled and to get as much money out of it as possible.’’
It meant that for a moment Bucky was in the hands of government, closest to Steve since the day he went missing, and Steve had absolutely no idea. Somehow, it made everything even worse. If only Steve knew, if he would have spoken… He was sure that he could have easily saved Bucky back then. Not that it could have changed anything right now. He had to operate in the current circumstances whether he liked it or not.
‘’Let’s meet on the road. I’ll send you coordinates shortly,’’ Natasha promised.
Steve nodded before remembering she couldn't see him.
"All right."
"And Steve?"
He paused.
"Don't do anything until I get there."
A sigh escaped him.
"You already made me promise.’’
"I'm making sure you remember."
Despite everything, the corner of his mouth twitched.
"Just get me those coordinates, Romanoff."
"On their way."
***
Helmut Zemo never claimed to be a good man. In fact, he never claimed to be a bad man either. He loved his family. He served his country well. That was more than many could have claimed.
What he was, was a powerful man and fully intended to keep it that way. Power, in these spaces, was never loud. It did not need to be.
Ownership required no justification, only means, and means were what Zemo possessed.
As every aristocrat, Zemo owned a small army of slaves. It was economically reasonable. Everybody knew that slavery system was about everything but rehabilitation. Why should he pretend otherwise?
Zemo was very pleased with his latest purchase. The majority of slaves, after being broken into this life, provided no intellectual stimulation. Asset still provided a challenge. Not because he was poorly trained, no. It was exactly the opposite. Pierce knew perfectly well what he was doing. Asset was exactly what he was supposed to be. Obedient, fast, resilient, intuitive during the fight.
Zemo was curious by nature. He couldn’t pass an opportunity to find out where the man inside the Asset stopped and the weapon started. So he kept testing. What would Asset do if he was given the contradictory orders? Was there anything that made him tick? How would he react to kindness? Was he still capable of making a choice?
That wasn’t just it. Asset had more practical role than just satisfying Zemo’s private interests. Asset was shaped into the fighting machine, so that was what he was supposed to be doing. Fighting.
What made it useful was not merely the fighting itself, but the particular illusion surrounding it. Asset was not thrown into filthy underground cages among desperate men clawing at each other for money. Zemo would never allow anything so crude. The matches were curated with almost artistic precision. The audience preferred to imagine themselves civilized, and civilization required the suitable structure and form.
Zemo did not attend for the violence itself. He rarely looked at it directly. Even if he was psychically present, he usually distanced himself from this whole spectacle. There was nothing in it to admire. But he understood its function. Violence clarified hierarchies in a way conversation never could. It stripped away ambiguity.
And, maybe most importantly, violence provided much-coveted entertainment for the bored lords and ladies. Zemo had learned long ago that boredom was one of the most dangerous forces in the universe. Not because it destroyed things directly, but because it demanded constant feeding.
Zemo would provide them something that looked like brutality—carefully contained, carefully shaped and most importantly, carefully removed from consequence. The trick was never to give them too much. Too much truth spoiled the illusion.
All this was wrapped in the very nice package. Elegant halls, plush armchairs, polite smiles, champagne chosen with the uttermost care.
And at the center of that mechanism stood the Asset. Never presented as the main attraction. Seemingly incompatible with this polished world. Just a bit of the background noise. Nobody ever admitted it aloud, but they all were there to satisfy their primal instincts in the safe, controlled manner.
The aristocrats would leave as they arrived, carrying with them the same illusion of distance from what they had witnessed. They would frame it later as harmless entertainment or curiosity indulged and safely contained. Zemo did not correct them. The right message had already been sent whether they realized it or not.
What actually mattered was not a fight itself. That, in fact, mattered very little. What truly changed the rules of the game was the fact that there was no leash, no chain, no cuffs, and yet, Zemo still had this strong, terrifying Asset under his control with as little as a word or gesture, like a simple guard dog.
He stayed mindful not to be ostentatious about the extent of this control. It would be completely counterproductive, not to mention tacky. Zemo knew better than that. He treated it like a simple fact of life. It had to be subtle to work.
The mechanism was surprisingly simple. Asset wasn’t just a weapon, not a tool of entertainment, but the quiet testament of who Zemo really was. The living evidence that Zemo’s control covered absolutely every single aspect of life. In those circles, control was status, influence and leverage. It was everything.
Zemo was not the man to be surprised easily, but when Captain America and Black Widow appeared at his doorstep without a warning, he found himself really surprised for the first time in the really long time.
***
Helmut Zemo wasn’t the man on whose doorstep one could just casually drop by and be invited it. However, neither Steve nor Natasha were people who easily took no for an answer.
Loki got left at the hotel with the promise they would pick him up on their way back. Steve decided it would be safer than dragging him into unknown. There were already so many risk factors present. Each additional element could have complicated the matter of affairs even further. The mission resembled walking on the very thin ice even without it. Captain would have gladly spared Loki another stressful situation, especially given the aftermath of visit to Hydra.
‘’We might get only one shot at this,’’ Natasha warned.
‘’You don’t have to remind me about it. We’ve going in and if Bucky’s there, I’m not leaving without him,’’ Steve replied adamantly.
‘’Very well. Let’s do it.’’