By the time they went downstairs, the party was in full swing. Helmut had left his coat behind in the space they occupied prior, the temperature ran warm enough already without countless bodies mingling together. Even though it was obnoxiously loud with multiple people, Helmut had to admit it was nice to be surrounded by something other than four bland walls. The music wasn't the worst either, it had a nice beat to it, and with the lights flashing it reminded him of the party days a long time ago. It felt nostalgic.
"So, what is the plan exactly?" James raised his voice over the music as they stood behind a bar. Helmut pressed his lips and wrung his hands deep in thought. That was the million-dollar question. The flashing lights and moving bodies obstructed his vision of Nic who left before them. They would have to blend in if there was any chance of finding her. He needed to find someone that knew the web. He couldn't just google Nic's services, it was most likely encrypted behind numerous walls. An insider would know how to find it much faster than if he tried on his own.
"The only thing we can do. Observe," Helmut replied looking still over the crowd. He needed them to act as a distraction so he could slip around unnoticed. He already had enough experience to know that subtlety and following plans wasn't their specialty. He would have to get the information he needed himself and a party was just the perfect setting for it. "Blend in. You might want to talk to your friend, see what she knows."
"Alright but you are staying in our eyesight. Got it? This isn't a vacation." Sam reaffirmed, helpful as always.
"Of course, Sam." Whatever he needed to hear, Helmut would happily say.
He watched them walk off and separate to cover more ground. He briefly hoped that they wouldn't start the equivalent of showing a wallet picture to strangers and asking if they have seen the person. They had enough of a bounty sitting over the head without added attention. But then again, he wouldn't be surprised.
Swallowing the last of his whiskey, he too left his spot and went to blend into the crowd. He needed to find someone willing to speak freely. He supposed he should be glad that prostitution ran freely here. They always knew everything and with enough money, they would be willing to talk. The music was swaying with the beat and he really couldn't help himself but to dance along. He had spent too many months couped inside and he didn't think another opportunity would be coming his way anytime soon.
Soon enough he felt a pair of feminine hands run along his shoulders. As shameful as he felt to admit, the brief touch sent shivers down his back. He twisted around to find a woman with dark curls and very prominent green eyeshadow in his space. She looked opposite of Ivana. Good. He offered her a smile.
"Want to find a quieter place?" She leaned in closer to shout over the music. Her deep woody smelling perfume hit his senses.
"Lead the way."
He cast a quick look around but couldn't see Sam or James around. Couldn't see Nic either. He almost forgot how hard it was to follow someone in a club setting, trying to move in between people who don't want to move. Seeing no other choice, he grabbed her hand in his and followed her through into one of the rooms. Helmut opened the door and let her in. He turned his back to her for a moment, to check if anyone was following them.
"I love foreigners. Ye lot are always so fun."
He closed the door and turned around to find her looking at him. Without a shirt. Oh. He cleared his throat, averting his gaze. She was fast.
"I must apologize for giving the wrong impression. While you are very beautiful, I simply wish to talk to you. I need help."
"Pity, you are hot." She remarked, reaching for her shirt off the floor. "Help cost extra."
"Rest assured, your help won't be forgotten. I need to find someone, you might have heard of her. Nic, she works for the Power Broker. I have a job for her but I don't know how to actually contact her."
"Give me your phone?" She sat down on the bed and held up her hand. Fishing it out of his pocket, Helmut let it load up and passed it to her. He too sat down to observe, make sure she did nothing else.
"You will need to set up a profile to view the info and then to actually buy a service you will need to provide your fingerprint. She will find you when you send in a request and will explain how to set up for payment to be wired. If she is wearing the mask that means she is mid-job so don't approach unless you want to lose your head for interference." She returned the phone and added. "Piece of advice? Stay away if you can. She is efficient but it is not uncommon for her to double-cross the moment you turn your back to her."
"You are very helpful, thank you." Helmut smiled and retrieved his wallet to pull out a couple of hundred Singapore Dollars. coin was the popular choice of currency but bills still were acceptable.
"Anything for you." She leaned in.
Her hand trailed up the thin material of his trousers, edging along the inside of his thigh. A pang of dread shot up his spine. He put his hand over hers and pushed it away lightly, giving her a hint.
There was nothing stopping him, he knew that. His wows were 'till death due us part'. Death parted them. He was a free man in the eyes of the state and church. Yet, with a pretty woman right in front of him, he knew all those years apart meant nothing. His heart belonged solely to Ivana as much now as it did when he first asked her out for coffee and she refused. To do more than cast someone a look would do her a disservice. He would not disrespect everything she was for a meaningless affair. He didn't need a therapist to know he wasn't ready.
"You sure I can't help with anything else?" Her voice softly murmured into his ear.
"I'm sure you are lovely at what you do, but I am married." It was the easiest way to explain it.
"I can keep a mouth shut."
"I'm happily married." Was happily married.
"Lucky girl." The woman sighed giving up and stood up. "Let me know if you change your mind."
'Lucky' the voice inside his head repeated, tauntingly. 'Luck got her six feet under'. Helmut cleared his throat softly and looked at his phone again. Seeking for a distraction. Seeking to stop thinking. A new app, Veron, had been added to his barely used phone. He remembered looking at the notification from the same app on Nic's phone.
It only took a few minutes to set up the profile, he put in random series of letters for most of the information anyways. If they wanted to check he had no doubt they'd know it was him. The list inside was extensive, ranging from simple burglaries, watching over places to hitman attacks and no kill lists. He refused to look at the services of sexual kind. Refused to read the words and understand their meaning. His breath caught in his throat. This was too much. No matter even if he had no relation to her, this was wrong. She was a kid. She could be his kid.
He clicked on the 'Schedule a meeting' option and sent in a request.
Sam and Bucky had spotted Sharon talking to someone while looking over a tablet. They gave them a few moments before interrupting.
"Sharon, we need to talk to you. Got a minute?"
Sharon looked up, assessing them both before apologizing to the man and stepping away.
"Sure, but not here. Follow me." She mumbled under her breath and lead them to a private area.
"Alright, guys what's up?"
"We need to know where the hell have you found the kid?" Sam answered, crossing his arms. Bucky remained standing by the door, watching.
"Kid? What are you talking about?"
"Nic? The pipsqueak that saved our asses tonight? About this tall?" Sam put up his hand to his shoulder mockingly. "Sound familiar?"
"Thought you might ask," She sighed, "Nic has been here before me. I can't tell how long; I don't think she can either at this point."
"What do you mean?" Bucky asked. He didn't like the sound of that.
"Power Broker has her on a tight leash, quite literally. There is a collar, not only with GPS but with a chemical that releases into the bloodstream. It blurs your perception of time. Blurs the things you do, feelings, memories, anything really that is not necessary."
"That's barbaric"
"It keeps her safe enough to do her job. If you can't remember it means no one can extort you. Why the twenty questions anyway?"
Sam and Bucky shared a look, not sure how much to share.
"Zemo thinks…believes it could be his kid. Don't ask how, we don't know but we saw the pictures, they are identical."
"And you don't think this could be Zemo exploiting you once again? Last time I checked he is not the most trustworthy companion." Sharon rolled her eyes.
"Zemo might be many things but he has a code and I don't think he would go so far as to lie about his family to get something out of it."
"Sharon it's important, please tell us what you know. If there is any chance that she is what we think she is, we deserve to know." Sam added, trying to persuade her.
Sharon took a long look at Sam before sighing.
"Nic didn't always work for Power Broker, well not completely, not to the extent that she does now. We didn't meet instantly; I only heard a few bits and pieces from customers who would mention her in passing. It took me a few years to establish and by that time the whispers became more dangerous. She had what I could call a mentor I guess, another woman who was working under the shadow. No one knew much but the bodies would keep dropping. Public displays, whatever you want to call them, it kept getting more grotesque and Power Broker eventually took notice and I assume was getting worried because they took out not only his customers but some of his men. I have no idea what the Power Broker had offered or what connection they had on Nic but the blind loyalty that Nic had for her had turned. I got blipped out and when I returned apparently there was a blood bath between Nic and the mentor. She eventually fled Madripoor and Nic ended up at Nigel half dead. According to Nigel, a man dropped her at his door and gave him no choice but to save her by any means. I met her properly after she got the serum. I expected to find the same blood-thirsty killer I heard so much about yet it was quite a shock to see her almost docile and acting as if nothing had happened, working for the Power Broker. Not a word from the Power Broker either, it was as if it never happened. So I took her in to some extent. I tried to ask once what happened but she looked at me confused and asked what I was talking about."
She gave them a smile shining with pity.
"The blood she had spilled in the time she has been here, it can probably rival that of the rivers that run under Madripoor. If you honestly believe she is his daughter, don't waste your time. Whatever she was before, that has long gone. That's what Madripoor does to people."
"Thanks, Sharon," Bucky grunted out with a faraway look. There was tension in his shoulder.
"Alright, well…Enjoy the party." With a nod she excused herself.
"So, what now?" Sam asked quietly after a moment, looking at Bucky who still didn't look fully there. The information was troubling, and Bucky help but relate to the lack of knowledge of what you are capable to do or what you did. With days being blurred into nothing.
"I don't know, tell Zemo and see what we do next." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. This was getting complicated.
"Are we sure we want to get into all this mess?" Sam asked carefully. It was the wrong question; he could tell the moment he spoke the words. Bucky's whole demeanor hardened instantly.
"We have no choice," Bucky replied, firmly.
"Uh, yes we do. We literally came here to get info about super-soldiers not to find some long-lost kids or whatever it is."
"She's me, Sam." Finally, Bucky looked at him properly.
"Now what is that supposed to mean?" Sam exclaimed almost defensively.
"She's basically me when I was under Hydra. Minus the literal brain-scrambling. Look if you don't want to help then don't. But I won't be sitting around and subjecting someone else to the shit I went through just because it wasn't convenient." Bucky shot him a glare before storming out.
"Look that is not what I meant," Sam called after him. "Bucky, wait up."
The alleyway was quiet, with no presence of people, just rats scattering away. It was behind a series of takeout restaurants and yet another nightclub, a place to throw out all the garbage from the night and forget about it. Nic pulled out a set of keys and picked out a small, ordinary key. She stopped by three sets of large metal dumpsters that were already half full and kicked them to the side. Their wheels squealed as they rolled away from the door that she needed.
The room stunk of rot, blood, and piss hit her nose before she even entered. The door creaked before it shut behind her with a bang. The breathing inside shuddered and increased to a quicker pattern. She flicked the switch on.
"Still not dead I see, good," Nic mumbled as she undid her mask and put it on the sink. Grabbing the cup from the sink itself, she turned on the water and ran her fingers through it until it got warmer and watched as the glass filled with misty water. Finally, she turned around to the half corpse that permanently resided shackled to the chair. He was not a pretty sight, not anymore. The black hair laid in stuck-up, greasy, clumps. Over-crusted in blood to ever hope to recover from the current state. The swelling had gone down since the last time she visited, the eyelids finally could open up. They didn't yet, not after staying in the darkness for so long. The light was blinding. The quick rasps didn't cease, if anything they increased the closer she got. She supposed he couldn't control it; the body always betrays when enough pressure is applied.
She ripped the rag from his half-opened mouth, hearing the skin tear along with the dry rag. The man barely let out a groan. Barely reacted until the warm water touched his tongue and moistened the throat. With the first drop hitting, he let out a gargle. Nic simply watched and tipped the glass. Half the water spilled to the floor as he couldn't swallow fast enough. Once it was gone, it remained gone. Nic didn't refill the water, didn't wipe the dirt and filth off the face nor bother to untie him. Simply put the glass back into the sink and unfolded a plastic chair that rested beside a wall that had more grease than wallpaper. She placed the chair in front of him and walked around, circling him to retrieve the phone she kept just out of his reach. A phone she knew he couldn't ever obtain, not after staying in the chair for so long with no movement. She doubted he had any bone mass left.
Nic returned to the seat and sank into it. She kicked her feet up onto his knees and thighs, purposely putting extra pressure on her soles. It wasn't very comfortable but it would do while she updated the job list. The death of Selby had to be accounted for and she just had the perfect pig to put the blame on.
"Do you still count the days you rot for?" She asked absent-mindedly while she wrote up a new job offering, buying herself a sixteen-hour window to use whenever she pleased.
"How would I? There's only fucking rats here." The voice croaked out weakly. It was catching on the dried-out mouth. If it weren't for the enhanced hearing she would have missed it. Warm water was not enough to undo the damage.
"Suppose that is true. You should be glad I leave them scraps otherwise you would be their food source. When your usefulness runs out maybe I will. I imagine that is not the nicest way to go." She tutted in mock sympathy.
"You're insane. Actually, fucking insane." If he had enough saliva to spare, he would have aimed and spat it at her.
"You're singing your song again. It's getting repetitive." Nic sighed and leaned over from the chair. She reached her hand to touch his dried blood-streaked face. He flinched the moment her fingers touched him, but she paid no mind. Simply ran her fingers down his face in a gentle manner. Taunting him with a gentle touch instead of the usual that he got. That he deserved. "You know, I don't sense days passing either. I could not tell what events took place a year ago and what happened yesterday. We are similar like that. Ironically I can also sense your heart racing, I can even hear your blood rushing through your various arteries if I want to. And you know what every fiber of your being tells me? That you are terrified of me, of the faith awaits you when I don't come back. Because deep down you know one day I will not. It sings to me." Nic grinned before dropping it in seconds. The niceness was over.
"You know the procedure. Please do not resist, it would be quite tiresome."
She bent down to where his hands were tied behind and gripped his thumb. Without a second's warning, she twisted it a full circle so it could fit onto the fingerprint mark. The bone cracked loudly, not being able to withstand the force, and bent to her whims. The man let out a pained grunt but didn't move to the thrash in his chair. He knew better or didn't have enough energy.
"As always, it was a pleasure doing business with you," Nic complimented and placed the phone back in its spot. The man watched her put the chair back with an increasingly growing fear in his eyes.
"Power Broker must be fucking with your head if you think you can do this. Whatever they are paying I'll pay triple just let me out. Stay. Please. Anything! Don't leave me. Don't!"
Nic did not stay to listen to his pleas. Didn't bother to put the gag back in. People around would not care even if they heard him. She simply picked up her mask, turned off the light, locked the door, and disappeared.
Acquiring cigarettes in Madripoor was like acquiring sweets. He didn't even have to step outside the room before he held a carton in his hand along with a box of matches. Stepping outside into the balcony, he was hit with a gust of fresh air. It was nice, albeit with the smell it brought along. Helmut placed the filter against his lips and flicked the matched alight. The smoke brought a familiar burn at the back of his throat, it had been a while. Inhaling it deeply, he held it until his lungs protested and he let it escape through his nose. It used to annoy Ivana when he did that. Too much of showing off she used to say.
Helmut leaned over the railing, twirling the carton in his hands. He was restless, that much he knew. Perhaps even nervous. Nerves were not something he had to deal with often in his profession. At home sure, even the tiniest mishap with Nic and Carl would send an agonizing spike of anxiety down his spine. With Ivana, it was a different kind of worry altogether for he knew she was more than capable of handling anything that came yet the knowledge alone would not stop the worry if she was too long at work or took longer to arrive home than she should. But at work, his nerves used to be steel.
This was work, he was here on a mission to destroy the serum and keep his promise. Yet, he couldn't unshake the crawling sense of dread that seemed to rest under every inch of his skin ever since Selby's office. Ever since he saw Nic. He was out of his depth and logic seemed to forsake him hours ago with no promise of ever returning.
Hope. It will be his undoing. It bulldozed through everything he built in order to survive a life without them by his side and it burrowed somewhere deep ever since she made a sound. All it took was a fucking syllable in the same voice he remembered, the same look they shared and he was undone. The problem with hope, even the smallest piece of it, was that it brought a crushing sense of dread and potential for catastrophe.
Ivana would never forgive him if in some impossible way it was their Nic in this hellhole. He would never forgive himself. It was unforgivable. Irredeemable. Unfixable. Because it would mean that he gave up on her. That he buried an empty box, a stranger, and moved on with life enough and left her behind. That his world did not end, not fully, that there was still some part of the life he once had and he let it go. That the god damn universe allowed him to continue his existence, unaware, for almost eight years while his daughter needed him, waited for him to find her and bring her home, in whatever shambles it stood. That he wasted time breathing and reading and taunting his guards with fancy words while his child was in pain and suffering every single day. He didn't have the pleasure of Sam's naivety of this place, his brain could think of the very realistic and accurate scenarios of the fate she would have had here. The horrors that she would have endured all alone. While he was too busy seeking revenge and then sitting with the consequences. It would mean that he failed everything and everyone he held dear. And it wasn't something he could deal with or live with. So, it couldn't be Nic. He couldn't have fucked up this badly.
Helmut looked down to see he was crushing the carton in his hand and with a shaky breath, he forced it to relax. The glass door slid open briefly, letting in the sound of music before it closed. He didn't turn. Ironically, he wasn't ready to see her, to even say a word even if that was what he was preparing all night to do.
"These things will kill you," A voice that easily pierced through his heart in a very painful way spoke out behind him. It both felt like relief and pain at the same time. Like it was the only thing he wanted to hear for the rest of his life and to never hear it again at the same time.
"I will most likely meet my end way before the effects of nicotine would take me out," Helmut replied deciding that it was unnecessarily hard to keep his voice steady. Using words used to be simple. He was good at it. But now words have abandoned him.
"That is true. You are statistically more likely to die by seeking out dangerous people in a lawless city." Helmut couldn't tell if it was a witty comment or a factual statement. Wasn't sure what he could tell anymore.
"So what is it? Decided you don't like your friends? Want to relieve the pressure of the world?" He could hear the taunt this time. It sent a shiver down Helmut's spine because he could tell she meant every word of it.
"I want information." It wasn't a lie. He finally turned to see her. He wished he hadn't. He wished he had sooner. She stood right there, right in front of him. Exactly the same since he saw her last. Ivana's eyes in Nic's face pierced through him. It wasn't possible. And yet.
"Information is expensive and often not available."
"You would not be here if you didn't think I would be able to pay for it." Because that is all he had at the moment to keep her from running out of his life the same way she bulldozed into it. Even if it wasn't his Nic, he wasn't sure he would be able to let go just yet. Even if it wasn't her, it was the closest he had gotten to see her again, and to let it go seemed impossible. Some twisted part of him had already thought of the ways he could slip out from James and Sam's sight and stay here, to keep looking at the mirror image. To just torture himself and die a happy man's death. Maybe her face would be the last thing he saw. It would be a nice way to go.
Nic tilted her head to go on.
"Who's the Power Broker?" Irrelevant. He just wanted her to talk, anything. To torture him further.
"Depends on who is asking. What they are asking for. Power Broker will decide whether you are worthy of that knowledge depending on your answers."
"Where you are from?"
"Madripoor."
"Are you? You have a distinct accent." Helmut challenged. "You spoke a foreign language that is not popular in Madripoor."
"Then I don't know. It is not important. I speak multiple languages"
"How long have you been in Madripoor?" Maybe it would give him a clue to his thoughts and wonderings.
"I do not know." Something in the way she looked at him, told him she was telling the truth. There was a vacancy in her eyes.
"You remind me of my daughter. More than remind you are in fact the spitting image of her which cannot be possible because she died in 2015 and yet here I find you running around with her face."
"Your daughter is dead. Whatever resemblance I might have its a coincidence. Whatever information you seek I do not have. Goodbye."
"Wait, there is something else." He couldn't let her walk away. Not when she was standing right in front of him when she could disappear any second like smoke to never be found again. He had to know, for sure with certainty that she was not his Nic. Because the thought of ever leaving without knowing for certain was maddening. He would not survive wondering at the back of his mind of all the what-ifs. Nic stopped in her tracks. "Few drops of your blood. I would like to buy that."
He held his breath for the mere seconds it took to reply. Those seconds lasted an eternity.
"Forward the money first."
The party had slowly come to an end around four in the morning. He watched as people slowly departed and the area got quieter and quieter. It felt both too soon and not soon enough. Probably because he was waiting for a call to tell him that Nic wasn't actually his. She won't be his and then he will feel horrible regardless because it will remind him that his Nic has long been gone and he was an idiot thinking otherwise. The wait, however, was unbearable. Every second felt like it will be the moment the penny drops. Some broken part of him almost wished it wouldn't drop. That he could live in this unbearable limbo forever because as long as that penny had not yet been dropped, it would not be his reality yet and he could pretend for a while longer. He shook the thought away. He tried to shake them away.
Sighing, he stood up from the counter that he was leaning on and went to search out James and Sam. It was always fun to annoy them, maybe he could distract himself for a while.
"Have I already mentioned that you are an idiot?" Helmut heard Sam's voice booming before he even entered the room they were in before the party. Did he even want to know?
He was surprised to find James laying on the yellow-off shade couch with Sam sitting beside, pouring him water. It looked domestic. He still couldn't get a clear read on their relationship. He wondered if they knew themselves.
"What happened to James?" Helmut asked curiously, closing the door behind him.
"Ordered a damn drink and apparently got high off his ass. It took me forever to actually carry him here. That reminds me where the hell have you been?"
"I'm fine. I haven't been drunk since '44. It doesn't work." James interjected; his speech slowed down to a sluggish pace. Helmut took a closer look. Indeed James' pupils were blown out and his face looked more relaxed than Helmut had ever seen. Clearly someone was already profiting from the recreation of super serum.
"Have you seen your pupils?" Sam protested.
"Well, are in Madripoor." Helmut shrugged and went to pour himself another drink. The alcohol was truly better here. "They are far more advanced in their alcohol preferences than Americans."
"Yeah don't remind me. I still don't know what I even drank."
"Cobra's heart."
"That is disgusting." Sam shuddered recalling. Helmut guessed that it's the knowledge that caused him to react. The drink itself felt like vodka with added spice and kick to it, something he would be familiar enough with. Ironic that knowledge tasted bitter.
"Still drank it." He pointed it out.
"Yeah because I had to." Sam sighed. "I liked it better when you weren't here."
Helmut paid no mind to the jab. Simply took another sip from his drink.
The doors opened once more as Sharon walked in with the tablet in hand.
"There you are. I found Nigel; we should get going."
"Can't go anywhere. Bucky is high off his ass."
"I'm fine." James interrupted again. "I'm always fine. Fine. Fine when Steve left and fine now."
That was something a fine person would say. Helmut noted that even under influence Steve Rogers was still in his thoughts. Interesting. The wound was still fresh it seemed.
Sharon looked up from the tablet towards Bucky. Helmut watched her. She didn't seem too interested or concerned.
"Damn. Well, let's hope he still will be there in the morning." She mumbled and placed the tablet on a counter.
"He will." Nic's voice sounded behind her. "He is a hermit, daylight does not interest him when there's shit he could be creating."
Helmut straightened up even though she paid no mind to him. She still looked the same, no wounds to be seen. She didn't even look like she had left at all. Good.
He clenched his fist on instinct. Look at him caring already. Stupid. It will only hurt more when he gets the answer and leave. He wished she would not bring up any emotions at all.
No one spoke, as if holding their breaths while Nic crossed the room and poured herself a drink. Instead of taking a seat she jumped on the counter of the table and took out her phone. Helmut tried not to look too much at her. It was hard.
This looked too domestic. He could imagine her sitting at home after coming from college, almost pretentious with the belief that she had it all figured out. He could imagine that he already helped her move out yet she would come home every few weeks cause the adult life was just too lonely. He tried not to, tried to resist the urge. It wasn't healthy, she wasn't his Nic. Yet the resemblance was screwing with his head in all the sweetest and most heartbreaking ways.
"You good about Selby?" Sam finally broke the silence. Helmut blinked trying to figure out what he meant and to who. He wasn't the only one as Nic looked up too.
"Pardon?" She tilted her head in question.
"You said she was on the no kill list. I mean you didn't get in trouble with the …Power Broker or whatever it was?"
"The no-kill list is…how would you call it," She trailed off, trying to find the right word. "A guideline I suppose. You pay what you believe your life is worth and if someone finds more money to take you off the list well…" She clicked her tongue and dragged her finger over her clothed neck.
"Jesus Christ."
"Welcome to Madripoor." There it was again. Helmut once again couldn't tell if she was using dry humor or stating a fact. It almost bothered him, under the surface level. There was just too much that he didn't know about her and with the resemblance being so close it felt like he was missing out. It was discomforting.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, startling him in the process. He pulled it out and saw that the number was blocked. He suspected as to who was calling.
"Excuse me," Helmut mumbled and rushed out the room to answer the phone quicker than he normally would. He answered but said nothing. Couldn't say anything over the increasingly beating heart. Just kept breathing. Tried to breathe.
"Good morning, sir, Anteco representative is calling. You have submitted samples for testing of paternity."
"Yes, I'm aware." He managed to grunt out, his breath getting caught mid-sentence.
"We have the results that are 99.9% accurate and it is a match. Thank you for using our services. If you need anything more please do not hesitate to use us again."
Helmut didn't hear anything past the word 'match'. Didn't feel himself place his phone down or start walking. Where was he going?
Everything was blurring and dulling. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Taste it in his mouth. He tried to swallow but there was nothing to swallow, his whole mouth was filled with ash. He was going to be sick. He needed air…he needed what? Fuck. Fuck.
He just managed to find a bathroom before bile rose to the back of his throat.
So…Hiiii Besties. Hiiiii. I only been gone for… 9 months :') So sorry about that I actually feel so bad. I wish I could have some crazy life updates that would have stopped me writing but honestly, I just got Marvel burnt out and got obsessed with Hannibal for a long time and with going back to college there just wasn't much time or will to write. But this story never left my mind and I always made different scenarios in my head all the time.
However ever since I watched the new SpiderMan it gave new inspiration lol.
I hope I can still capture Zemo and make a realistic enough story. I also had so much more time to flash out the story and think of even more ways to hurt everyone so ye all have that to look forward to. I swear I will try to update sooner. New Year new me lol.
Happy New Years 3
Let me know what ye think 3
I will do better this year I swear.