Amelia knew that she wouldn't be able to sleep well that night. She didn't mean to yell at Helmut. She knew that it wasn't his fault she was in this position and he just wanted to do right by her. He wanted to keep her safe, just as he had promised Lukas he would do. But Amelia didn't want him hovering around her and thinking that she was weak when she knew that she was good enough to hold her own. A dislocated shoulder had been painful and she was about to get up and take more painkillers, despite not being allowed to take them. But it had only dislocated because of the angle. Soldiers got injured all the time. Lukas had told her enough about Helmut's own scrapes to know that much was true.

Moving to her feet, Amelia looked at her bedside clock. It was only three in the morning. Moving out into the kitchen, she adjusted the sling that was holding her arm in place. She flicked the kitchen light on and padded across the wooden floor, her good hand moving to toss her hair behind her shoulders. She picked out a glass from her cabinet and filled it with water from the dispenser in the fridge.

Picking up the painkillers, she tried to pop them out with one hand but failed. She struggled with her other hand, any movement seeming to irritate her shoulder even more. She had no need to struggle as an arm moved around her and startled her. Helmut's fingers took hold of the packet of painkillers and he popped one out.

"Thanks," Amelia said to him.

He handed her one painkiller, placing it into her open palm and watched her drink her water.

"No thanks necessary," Helmut told her.

"Then how about an apology?" she wondered. She was struggling to look him in the eye and so she busied herself with moving across the open space and towards the sofa. Sinking down into the cushions, she picked one leg from the floor and bent it in front of her, kneecap pressed by her chest. "Because I didn't mean to snap at you earlier."

"Nothing you said was untrue," Helmut responded.

He picked up the glass of whiskey he had brought out of his bedroom and left on the kitchen table when he had heard her moving. He was still dressed in dark trousers and a dark shirt, his hair dishevelled and his eyes hooded. He was tired. He knew that he should sleep. But every time he closed his eyes he saw what he didn't want to or need to see.

"I still shouldn't have brought it up."

"You were angry with me. It is understandable that you would lash out," he said to her. "Besides, perhaps I do owe you an apology for how I acted whenever we were in Sokovia. I, perhaps, could have been more welcoming than I was."

Amelia said nothing as he sat on the chair across from her. Leaning forwards, he kept his glass dangling in his hands between his legs. The liquid swirled up against the edge of the glass and he rotated it in his fingers and watched Amelia as she remained silent, peering down onto her good hand that sat on her bent knee.

"When Lukas told me he had met someone, I was happy for him," Helmut said to her. "You have to understand that I had known him for years. I knew what he was like. I knew how he had dated women and claimed things had been serious, only for him to dump them months later. Relationships with him never lasted."

Amelia peered over to him then and he took his turn to avoid her gaze. He looked into the depths of his drink.

"When he told me that he thought he had found the one, you need to understand that I took it with a pinch of salt," Helmut said to her. "I had seen him say the same before, but it never worked out. When he brought you to Sokovia, I thought it best to keep you at a distance because I never imagined it would last, especially when I saw how you struggled. I thought that he would ditch you and go back to dating models and socialites again."

"Because I wasn't good enough."

"On the contrary, because you were far too good for him," Helmut informed her and he saw her eyes widen as she looked to him. He chuckled as his gaze met hers, a brow arching on his forehead as he titled his head. "You thought differently?"

"I thought that you thought differently."

"No," Helmut drawled. "I told Heike as much. I told her how you were too nice…too kind for the circles he socialised in. Socialites are used to backstabbing and catty comments, and then you came in with your high street dress and cheery attitude. You never belonged there. I was worried what they might do to you…how they might turn Lukas against you."

Amelia shook her head. "He said that he didn't care what they thought."

"And I saw that in time," Helmut confided. "But when he said that he wanted to marry you, I worried that he was being hasty. I worried that he was rushing into it because of who he was…flighty…impulsive…he had known you a year, Amelia. I wanted to protect him not only from doing something he might regret, but also from doing something that might hurt you. You wouldn't have deserved that."

She remained mute, having to admit that she was surprised by the way he was talking. But it was not an unexpected surprise. On the contrary, she was quite enjoying hearing him speak in such a manner because it all made much more sense when she thought about it. Perhaps he didn't dislike her as much as she thought he did.

"He wasn't like that, Helmut," Amelia said to him. "I knew what he was like. He told me everything."

"And I grew up with him. He was like a brother," Helmut said. "You need to understand that I had known him for thirty years while you had known him for just over a year. I did what I thought was best, but I see now…and I saw it for quite some time…that you really were the one for him. He proved me wrong."

Amelia's lips picked up slightly at hearing that. "He'd have loved to have heard you say that," she said and Helmut smirked at her comment as well.

"He always did like to beat me. It happened very rarely, but he enjoyed it." Helmut admitted to her.

He stood up and drained the last of his whiskey. Moving into the kitchen, Amelia watched the back of him as he pulled the bottle out from the cupboard next to the fridge. "Think I could get a glass of that?"

"I'm not doctor, but I don't think you should drink while on medication," Helmut commented.

"Just one glass? It might make the ache go away?"

Helmut frowned and turned to look to her. "You can have a sip of mine," he said.

He poured his glass and headed back into the kitchen. Handing her the glass, she took more than a sip as she tossed all the alcohol back and Helmut's hands dropped to his hips, his gaze disapproving as she let the liquid burn the back of her throat. She let out an 'ah' as she handed him the glass back and he continued frowning.

"You really are trouble."

"You have another full bottle in that cupboard," Amelia pointed out. "You don't need to complain about me having a glass when you insist on buying the most expensive bottle in the store."

"Because the cheaper bottles taste horrible," Helmut said and went to pour himself another glass before moving to sit back down across from her. "Besides, I take it you're awake for a reason? Is it your shoulder?"

"Partly."

"And the other part?"

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Well, I'm not particularly interested in sleep, so take your time," Helmut said to her.

"You mean you're interested?"

"Of course I'm interested," Helmut retorted. "I know that we might not have been the closest of friends, Amelia, but right now we are all each other has got. You might think that I can be cold and callous at times, but I am still a man."

"Sorry," Amelia said to him. "I just…I don't really know how I should act around you. Are we friends? Or are we just work colleagues?"

"Would it be so bad if we were both?" Helmut asked from her.

She shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Then as a friend, you can tell me what is bothering you."

She sighed and nodded. Helmut noted how a strap to her vest top had slipped down her shoulder. Her pyjama bottoms hung low on her hips as she pulled her legs underneath her body and played with the checked material against her thigh.

"What we did today," Amelia said to him. "I…I stood there at the back of the room and I watched all of those people die. I felt nothing, Helmut. I felt nothing but longing for them all to suffer on their way out. How many people would they have killed as part of HYDRA? How many people would Petrov have killed if he had managed to recreate the serum?"

"It doesn't bear thinking about."

"I just…I wonder if I should feel bad about what I've done…what we've done," Amelia said to him and he placed the glass down on the coffee table in front of him, placing it on a coaster on the oak furniture.

"Do you think that Captain America feels bad when he returns home after completing a mission? How many people do you think he has killed? How many lives has he taken? How many has Iron Man taken? Or Black Widow? All of them are lauded as heroes, but they are nothing but killers…and the worst part of it is that they kill innocent people…people like Lukas…Heike…my son…" he trailed off and Amelia nodded, agreeing entirely with what he was telling her. "What we did today was necessary to stop more extreme idealists from gaining power."

"And I agree with everything you are saying," Amelia said. "I just want to know if it makes us as bad as them."

"It makes us right in our convictions," he replied. "If you feel no regret over what happened and you feel that it was the right thing, then you do not need to worry over what you fear you should feel."

She nodded once more and he stood up, picking his glass back up and wandering the length of the living room.

"Would you do it again?"

"Yes."

She answered him without hesitation as he stood by the window and peered out of it, looking into darkness. He could just make out the waves of the sea in the distance that were illuminated by moonlight. His head nodded as he took a sip of his drink.

"You answered with no hesitation."

"Because I have no hesitation," she promised him. "I guess that I sometimes get trapped in my own head."

"I can understand that," Helmut said to her.

"And you?" Amelia asked from him. "You're alright after today? I know that wasn't your first rodeo so you probably think it's a stupid question-"

"-I think it's the type of question that a friend would ask another friend," Helmut told her and moved back to the sitting area. He perched himself on the leather couch to the other side of her and set his empty glass down. Looking to her, he could see the kindness in her eyes and her soft smile made his own lips arch. "But yes, I'm fine. The only thing that caused me alarm was seeing you…like that…"

"Yeah, it caused me a fair bit of alarm too," Amelia said, looking down at the offending joint. "But the doctor seemed confident it should be healed in a few weeks."

"I hope so because I felt as though I failed Lukas," Helmut said, but Amelia shook her head firmly.

"You never failed him."

"You were hurt. He left me a voicemail telling me to protect you and I swore I would that at his graveside."

"It could have been a lot worse if you hadn't have been there," she said.

"I don't even want to think about that," he said, shaking his head firmly. "If that man had laid a hand on you…touched you…he'd…I'd never have forgiven myself."

Amelia sighed and watched him for a moment, trying to work out what he was thinking as he went silent, one hand holding the other and his thumb running over his palm. She took a moment to gather her own thoughts and then spoke in a soft voice to him.

"I know that you promised Lukas that you would look out for me," Amelia informed him. "But I need you to know that I have my own mind. I make my own decisions. I really do appreciate you standing by me and having my best interests at heart, but I don't want you to blame yourself if things go wrong. It's not your fault and you do the best you can. We're in this together and that's good enough for me."

He nodded his head for a few seconds and turned to look at her again. He let his lips quirk at the sight of her and nodded to her arm. "How is it?" he asked, not wanting to get involved in a discussion about how she was able to take care of herself.

"Aches like hell," she complained. "But I suppose I was lucky you were there to fix it."

"I confess, setting bones and fixing dislocations were never my favourite things to do when I was part of EKO," he said to her. "I was always quite squeamish about those types of injuries."

"You? Squeamish?"

"It might sound unbelievable, but believe me, it's true," he promised her and he heard her laugh softly, nodding her head at that.

"Well, you didn't seem to freak out which is the main thing," Amelia informed him and then looked to the clock above the television. "It's early. We should try and get at least a couple of hour's sleep."

"You go ahead," Helmut said. "I'll tidy up in here. We left papers laying around on that dining table."

"You sure?"

"Positive," he said.

He watched her move to her feet and stretch on her toes. She moved past him and used her good hand to reach down and hold onto his shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Thank you for today."

"You don't need to thank me for anything," Helmut said.

"I do. It's just nice to have someone to talk to…it can get pretty lonely in my head."

Helmut chuckled darkly but nodded. He took hold of her hand and let his fingers engulf hers. He could feel the softness of her touch, no doubt courtesy of the numerous hand creams she had dotted around. On the contrary, his hands felt coarser; Amelia suspected that was from his EKO days. He kept her hand inside of his as he stood up and looked down onto her.

"You might feel alone, Amelia, but you don't need to be," he promised her. "Get some rest. I'll talk to you in the morning."

Amelia had been in a sling for over three weeks before the doctor deemed it necessary to get her joint healing. She had been attending physiotherapy and was doing as much exercise as possible for a quick recovery. Helmut had taken her to each appointment, sitting in the waiting room and playing on his phone while waiting for her to come in and out. They had been grounded in Norfolk the entire time, deciphering more documents as November soon rolled around.

"If it's hurting then you can just say."

They had been on a run and Amelia had slowed to a walk, her good hand gripping her shoulder and massaging it. Helmut slowed his pace to a jog as he turned around to see her stood by the sea wall. He stopped running and walked back to her, hands on his hips as he watched her.

"It's fine," she promised him.

"You're a terrible liar."

"That's unfair, I've never really lied to you."

"You're lying right now."

"Because I don't want you to make a fuss," she said. "It's bad enough you've insisted I hardly do anything over the past few weeks. I want to get back to some semblance of normalcy, Helmut."

"And you will," he promised her. "But don't push yourself too hard. Besides, we have another two week's before we leave for Madripoor."

"Madripoor," Amelia muttered and shook her head as she sat on the wall behind her, Helmut remaining stood in front of her. He wished that she wouldn't be so careless sometimes, seeing her jumping to sit on worktops and surfaces that were unsteady. If she lost her balance then she was tumbling back into the sea and Helmut didn't fancy getting into ice cold water that morning.

"You're having second thoughts?"

"About going to a place full of criminal masterminds? You could maybe say that I'm apprehensive," Amelia said to him, hands gripping the ledge. "Out of all the places we have to go to, why is Madripoor so important?"

"For the exact same reason you just mentioned," Helmut said, kicking a leg up against the wall and leaning forwards, stretching his muscles. "There are a number of HYDRA operatives there who are laying low. One of them is a scientist who worked at the Bank in D.C. where they had been keeping the Winter Soldier."

"And you think we'll be able to find him in a place where criminals hide out?"

"I think we'll be just fine," Helmut assured her. "However, if we are going to Madripoor then we don't need to worry about aliases there. Besides, even if we did come up with a fake alias, the people there would find out who we were in an instance. There will be no hiding there and so I might have to play up the fact I'm a Baron…show how influential I can be."

"And me? A PR Executive?" Amelia asked.

"If you're with me then you'll have protection."

"As what? Your piece of arm candy?"

"I would not even dream to suggest such a thing," Helmut said to her. "I can only imagine the offence you would take."

"Good," Amelia said. "Because I'm not some damsel in distress."

She jumped down from the wall and Helmut could see what was happening in an instant. Her shoulder seemed to give out under her weight and she slid down the wall ungraciously. He moved to stop her from toppling any further, an arm securing around her waist tightly as he held her against him. He chuckled as she moved a hand onto his other arm, gripping it as she steadied herself against him.

"You were saying?" he tormented her and she slapped his arm with the back of her hand, causing no harm whatsoever to him.

"Shut up," she said to him, her tone equally as teasing. "I'm just recovering and maybe sitting on a wall wasn't my best idea."

"At least you fell forwards and not backwards," Helmut said and she looked over her shoulder and into the murky depths of the water. Looking back to him, she arched her brow and gave him a smirk.

"What? You wouldn't have jumped in after me? Aren't you supposed to save damsels in distress?"

"Ah, but as you keep reminding me, you're no damsel," he reminded her. "Besides, it looks far too cold even to contemplate going in after you. You'd learn how to swim pretty quickly."

"What kind of gentleman are you?"

"I never claimed to be a gentleman," he replied. "But, in the act of chivalry, I'll ask again, are you sure your shoulder is fine? And don't even think of lying to me."

He barely realised that he still had his arm around her, holding onto her as she clung onto his arm. A part of him didn't mind the closeness, either. How long had it been since someone had been so close to him? He knew that he had held Amelia before, mainly when he had been tending to her wounds or teaching her how to fight or shoot. But this felt different. It felt like a very different thing as they engaged in light-hearted banter. Helmut could hardly remember a time recently when they had done this. He didn't remember just being happy for a few fleeting moments and not letting revenge consume him.

"It aches," she admitted, feeling his hand press into the small of her back, her side pressed to his front. "It hurts more at night after I've used it all day, though."

"Understandable. It is still healing."

"It's just infuriating when I want to get back to being normal," Amelia said. "But I guess it'll be fine in time. Anyway, it'll have to be if we're going back to Madripoor."

And there it was. The talk of Madripoor had Helmut back remembering what it was that they were doing. He moved his hand away from Amelia's back as she dropped his arm and he took a step back, running his fingers along his cheek and onto his chin. That moment of not worrying about their mission had been nice while it lasted.

"Indeed," he agreed with her. "And if you're coming to Madripoor acting as my…associate, shall we say, then we need to do something about your wardrobe."

Amelia frowned and folded her arms over her chest. "What is wrong with my wardrobe?"

"You need things that are more…eye-catching."

Amelia glowered at him. "I'm feeling very offended right now."

"Should I run away to avoid your wrath?"

"We live in the same apartment. I'd catch you up eventually," she said to him as he started walking. "And what is wrong with my clothes?"

"I'm going to run before you start yelling at me in public," Helmut said and he did exactly that. Amelia watched the back of him for a moment as he threw his head over his shoulder and looked back to her, a smirk on his face as she took off after him, determined not to let him get away.

"I think that your wife would look lovely in something navy. She has the right hair colour and complexion to carry it off."

"I'm not-"

"-I would agree," Helmut interrupted Amelia before she could tell the personal shopper that she wasn't his wife. Looking to him, she furrowed her brows and watched him for a moment as the woman, Kate, picked out a few dresses from the rack.

"What are you doing?" Amelia demanded.

"Do you want to explain to her who we are? It's easier this way…if we say friends then she thinks we're having an affair," Helmut pointed out, motioning down to her wedding ring with his chin as she looked to it and then to her own engagement ring. "Or she thinks that you're using me for my money."

"I have money," Amelia said as she moved off in the other direction to the personal shopper and picked up a label on the back of her dress, eyes widening at the price of it. "I just prefer not to spend it on clothes that I can get cheaper from high street stores."

"We're going to Madripoor. We'll be expected to behave in a certain way," Helmut informed her. "And that means we have to dress in a certain way. Just go along with this and we can go home soon enough."

"Here," Kate said, picking up a dress from the rack and holding it up in their direction. "I'll take this to the dressing room. I think you might need a UK size twelve in this dress because of the fit."

"I am sure it will be perfect."

"Since when were you an expert in women's fashion?" Amelia mumbled to him as Kate went back to work and she went back to looking at the racks of clothes, picking up a black shirt and holding it up. She placed it against herself and looked into the mirror as Helmut watched her, arms folded over his chest.

"I'm not, but that shirt is hardly doing anything for you."

"It's also two hundred pounds so it's going nowhere but back on that rack."

She placed it down as Kate called over to them, informing them that she had picked up a number of outfits and put them into the large private changing area that was currently vacant. Amelia trudged through into the room as Kate offered her a glass of champagne and then handed Helmut one. Amelia downed her glass in one as Helmut chuckled at seeing her looking at the items Kate had hung up. The woman told them to shout if they needed anything and she headed out to look for more pieces.

"The benefit of private shopping," Helmut said and he sat down on the cream coloured couch.

There were mirrors on every wall, the changing area hidden behind a curtain. The carpet was a plush cream as well and there were plants in each corner that were well maintained and lush greens. Helmut draped an arm over the back of the couch as he continued to hold onto his champagne.

"What do you think is going to happen? A fashion show?"

"No, but if I am to play the part of doting husband then that means I get to sit here," he said to her. "Besides, there is free champagne and so I am going nowhere."

"You owe me for this torture," Amelia said to him.

"I promised you we could go to a bar after this," he said as she picked up the navy dress and held the hanger tightly in her hands.

Scoffing, she looked at him with a tilted head. "You think that's going to cover it?"

"I'll find more ways to make it up to you," Helmut promised her as she grunted and disappeared behind the curtain, leaving him chuckling after her.

Sipping on his champagne, he had considered it a miracle he had gotten her here in the first place. He had warned her that if they were going to infiltrate HYDRA circles then she would need outfits that placed her in high society. He had gone through her own wardrobe and told her she had nothing like that and she had complained, calling him a snob. He agreed that he might be a snob, but he was still right. And so he had managed to persuade her to go to some expensive department store that stocked designer labels. That was how they found themselves in their current predicament.

He reached for the bottle of champagne that was in the cooler next to him and topped himself up. He heard Amelia grunting to herself in the changing room and he folded one leg over the other.

"Whatever is the matter in there?" he questioned her.

"This is ridiculous," Amelia said, calling out to him. "What if I have to fight? How am I going to be able to do that?"

"I'm sure you'd find a way."

"Not without giving everyone a show," she replied. "This is ridiculous. Are there any trousers out there or does she think I exclusively just need fitted dresses?"

"Just show me the dress."

"I told you this wasn't a fashion show."

"And it won't be. I just want to see if you're being intentionally difficult or if you have a point."

He had expected a sarcastic response then as he stood up and moved his free hand to his hip as his other held the champagne. She came out, pushing the thick, beige curtain to the side and standing in front of him. The navy dress was form fitting, clinging to her nicely. She was barefoot and padded across the carpet, looking in the mirror next to the rack of other outfits. Tugging on the hem of the dress, she pulled it down.

"It makes my legs look fat," she complained.

Helmut hardly wanted to look down, but he did, instantly feeling an ounce of guilt as he saw her stand on her toes and twist to the side to see herself in the mirror. He let his gaze roam along her calves, seeing how they jutted out slightly with muscles. He lifted his gaze upwards then, letting it sit on her thighs which the dress didn't cover.

"It does no such thing," he said, trying to act nonchalant. "It's nice."

"It's not practical," Amelia responded, tossing a hand through her hair and turning back to him. She moved over to him once more and took his glass from his hands, downing the liquid quickly. "And I'm not getting it."

Handing him the glass back, Helmut's lips quirked after a moment as he looked down to her. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"

"Find me something I can wear and run in and I won't be difficult," she said to him and began to tug at the zip at the side as she went back into the changing room and Helmut saw her begin to peel the dress from her skin as she closed the curtain and he shook his head, knowing that he had to get that image out of his head.

"We will attract less attention if we fly economy."

"I have never flown economy."

"Then you're in for a treat," Amelia informed him.

They were back at the apartment and were looking into flights to get them as close as possible to Madripoor. Helmut had informed Amelia that his private jet was out of the question as it was currently undergoing repairs. So they had started the argument about whether or not they should fly in economy or in first class. Amelia had her laptop open in front of her on the kitchen table as Helmut stood over her shoulder, holding his mug of herbal tea in his hands.

"Why can we not fly first class?"

"Because we are being discreet," Amelia reminded him. "I thought that the entire point of doing this was to get the job done and keep a low profile."

"No one knows what we are doing and while I do agree in being discreet, booking a first class ticket instead of an economy ticket is not going to change that. We're still on the same flight, just in comfier seats."

Amelia had no response to that. She shook her head after a moment and pointed to the screen. "But look at the price difference."

"Money is no issue."

"Maybe not for you," Amelia muttered.

"Nor is it for you," Helmut told her. "I said that I would pay for the tickets and everything else that we need. You don't need to fret."

"That's not the point," Amelia said to him. "I mean…yes…it kind of is the point…I…I don't do well taking money from other people, Helmut. My parents always taught me to work for my money and spend within my means. Those new clothes in that bag were bad enough to pay for."

"And that is why I transferred the money from my account to yours as soon as we returned here," Helmut said and Amelia gaped up at him as he shrugged. "I knew you would never let me pay for them in the store and so I had to improvise. Just accept them."

Amelia shook her head. "I'm not a charity case."

"No, you're a friend who has let me stay here rent free, so let me do this and consider us even."

"You do know the rent on this place is nothing compared to that shopping spree and first class plane tickets?"

"Then just accept it with no strings attached," Helmut told her firmly. "I know that Lukas' family left you with some of his money and his house in Paris, but I still have everything and I insist on doing this."

Amelia sighed. "You're not going to back down, are you?"

"A ten-hour flight is quite the journey, Amelia. It'll be nicer in comfort."

"Fine, we'll book the tickets tomorrow."

"I prefer you when you're not putting up a fight," he told her and she stood up, pushing at his arm and moving to the teapot on the worktop, pouring her own cup of tea and holding it in her fingers, feeling the heat move through her limbs.

"So…we have two days until we go," Amelia said. "And do we have a plan?"

"I'll think up one when we arrive," Helmut said and he lowered the laptop lid and turned to see Amelia moving to sit down on her couch. He went to sit down next to her, rolling up the sleeves to his grey jumper when he had put the mug down onto the coffee table.

"Shouldn't we do that now?"

"Honestly, after spending the day shopping with you I would rather just sit and watch mindless television instead," he said to her and she rolled her eyes as he reached for the remote and turned the screen on. "I can see why Lukas always asked Heike to take you shopping."

"I'm not one for shopping and fancy clothes," Amelia shrugged, holding her mug and looking at the screen. "So stop complaining and just leave me alone to watch Eastenders."

Helmut rolled his eyes. "I have no idea how you watch this."

Amelia said nothing back to him as he turned the show on and she settled back. She took a moment to think before speaking. "I used to watch it all the time with my mum whenever I came back home," she informed him, watching the screen and trying to focus on what the characters were saying. "It's familiar…my dad would complain, but somehow he would always become invested in it and he knew everyone's name and the plots…it just…it makes me remember better times…because if it wasn't for me insisting that they come to Sokovia for Lukas' birthday then they'd still be here…sat in their house down the road and watching this right now."

He watched her as she looked to him with a sad smile and he knew what was going through her mind. He had the same thoughts himself. Moving a hand out towards her, he let his fingers drop onto her arm.

"I know," he promised her in a soft voice. "I know."

Nodding her head, she turned her attention back to the screen as Helmut removed his hand from her arm. He sat back and watched the television as Amelia curled into a ball and laid her head down on the cushion next to her. He didn't know when she had fallen asleep, but she soon woke up muttering something and Helmut knew it had been a nightmare. She downplayed it, of course, promising him that she was fine and telling him that she should go to bed.

Walking by him, she ran her hand over his shoulder and bid him goodnight as he watched her go and he wondered just why he felt his breath hitch just a little whenever she touched him.

...

A/N: Thanks so much to everyone reading and to micrographia for the review on the last chapter! I haven't seen many Zemo stories around so no idea if he's popular, but I find him a compelling character. Would love to know what everyone else thinks if you're reading!