AN: This is my first time writing for Marvel, inspired by my love for Falcon and the Winter Soldier, re-igniting my love for Daniel Bruhl and discovering my new love Sebastian Stan! And of course, Anthony Mackie is a handsome joy, too!
Inspired by the song "Still" from the musical "Anastasia"…
The female OC in this one-shot remains unnamed for reader-insert purposes… Hope you enjoy.
Zemo's POV:
In all his years of being an amoral man with a wavering conscience, not to mention a grieving father and widower on a vengeful crusade prior to the foolishly named "Blip", he thought his heart would never gravitate toward another person with the intent of attachment.
He sat in his cell in Berlin only mildly occupied with a book…
Until the Soldier came to the glass, walking alongside her…
An exquisite little slip of a girl, fire in her eyes as they met with his. The Soldier… James… eyed him with a narrow glint of suspicion as he recited the trigger words.
Her hand reached for James, easily bruised flesh intertwined with gloved metal. Her fingers were so small, he was certain one reflexive squeeze from James' vibranium hand would shatter her own into brittle pieces of bone.
She told him her name after he broke out of the prison, her voice stern, which he found amusing, but also charming. When he walked into his garage disguised in the guard uniform, she marched right up to him and gave him two swift, painful smacks across both cheeks.
One for Bucky, one for King T'Chaka…
Her tongue was even sharper than the blows to his face, cursing him with every profanity available to the English language. Every word for each Avenger hurt by his plans all those years ago…
James and Sam both kept their eyes on her during her lecturing him, in case he tried to take any liberties with her, both stunned into proud silence at her tearing him down with mere words.
He only chuckled, tilting up her chin to look into her face, her skin on his fingertips as soft as the petals on a cherry blossom. He saw James take a step toward them, positioned to pull her away from his reach.
The traumatized soldier hoping to seek redemption by protecting a beautiful girl from a villainous mastermind such as himself…
But something deep within him desired not to be seen as a villain in her eyes.
Any lower man than himself would've wanted her as a pretty trinket on his arm, as they had played the role in Madripoor while consulting with Selby. She was beyond a picture of beauty in her dress, a walking goddess who didn't belong amongst the scumbag inhabitants of that bar.
She had unconsciously shrunk into his arms when she had witnessed James' violent side as the Winter Soldier persona whom they imagined was long buried with Hydra's influence on his mind. It was only brief as James looked at her with sincere worry that she would fear him.
But the great Baron Helmut Zemo put that notion in the back of his own selfish focus on her. But… it was beyond his own wants and needs. Each passing moment as they all traveled from one country to another, he aimed to protect her even moreso than James or Sam.
And he berated himself for feeling in such a way.
But he failed to care either way… With his freedom, the newly formed world was his oyster again… and he wanted to share it with her.
He decided indefinitely the minute that buffoon imposter in the stars and stripes had struck her with his shield in a maneuver meant to incapacitate him. James and Sam were otherwise distracted with those Flag-Smashers…
He knew those overpowered vermin had to be stopped, but the sight of her lifeless on the floor, an enormous pattern of marks on her face filled him with rage and burgeoning sadness he hadn't felt since the fall of his country.
To his relief, she was still breathing as she was gathered up from the cold hard floor and into his arms, a deep exhale of effort leaving his body as though a weight were lifted from his shoulders. His heart beating an exhilerating marathon as he looked down at her sleeping face.
He couldn't help the slight smile on his face playing at the corners of his mouth as he carried her into his apartment, walking with care as though he held the most precious treasure close, afraid somebody would snatch her away from him.
He placed her onto the sofa, depositing her injured head onto the softest pillow in his reach. She moaned in pain and he stroked her hair, whispering soothing words in Sokovian.
He knew he was too far gone now and all because of this little waif who had no business entangling with the likes of the Avengers or super-soldiers.
He would take her away once he had a chance. Not today, he knew for certain. The Dora Milaje were coming for him, to imprison him again for his crimes.
And he told her as such after she woke up. There was so much of the world he could show her. Places of important history to tour, teach her several languages, expose her to all the cultures of the world with food, music and dancing.
She would live in luxury with him…but he wouldn't force her to love him right away. He would give her time. He wanted to take care of her, talk to her, give everything he could humanly provide for her comfort. He could not have her love outright, he would settle with at least her divine presence in his abode...everything within it belonging to her.
He wanted her for his own, however selfish he knew it was… but he would bide his days, as they turned to weeks or even years. She would be worth the wait and he needed time to prepare everything for her. At least he had Ozenik to contact for that.
He managed to slip away when the Dora Milajae arrived to intercept him, and he whisked her away, taking her hand and dragging her out of the room. She was no match for him, his strength overpowering hers and he felt guilty for making her walk with her head still injured. When she became disoriented from the running and began wobbling rather than running, he resorted to carrying her away from the town square.
They were in his car again, then to his plane. Her tears were silent as her eyes closed again.
He knew he didn't have long before they caught up with him. But there was one thing he wanted to show her.
The memorial of his people in the aftermath of her heroes' "saving" them from a disaster they caused.
She saw the misery in his eyes… and within hers he witnessed something other than anger or stubbornness. He saw sorrow and compassion… for him. A man who had everything, yet nothing.
James came with his gun, drawing her to his side, playing the hero and rescuing the damsel kidnapped by the dastardly foe that had tormented him.
The Soldier pulled the trigger and the barrel was empty of bullets. The relief overrode the disappointment battling inside him. At least she didn't have to witness James shooting him point blank in the head and have that gruesome image haunt her beautiful mind.
The dangerously stealthy Dora Milaje could now take him away to the raft. His work was done for now… But he still had to say goodbye to her.
James reluctantly allowed her to stand before him, to look straight into his eyes, no fear or apathy present in the lovely windows to her soul, the one entity he coveted from the stalwart maiden…
His lips brushed her forehead and his whisper of a voice fanned her innocent, yet intuitive face. His words would remain always with her, ringing in the forefront of her mind as he was led away, to be escorted to the Raft.
Live your life as you desire it while I'm gone. I give my freedom for yours. Sergeant Barnes may be borrowing your heart, but I'll be the eternal possessor of it, however long I shall wait. My Baroness of Sokovia…
She walked away with James, but her tears of conflict were for the one of the most dangerous men in the world. Whether she wanted him or not, he was hers forever… more than she could ever belong to him.