Vengeance or Justice?
“Eight hours, White Wolf,” Ayo warns him. “Then we come for him.” Her eyes flint over to somewhere behind Bucky’s shoulder, “No matter who stands in our way.”
Bucky turns to look back at who she’s addressing and does a downright comical double-take.
“Nice to see you too, Ayo,” Y/n stands behind him, waving goodbye at Ayo who is walking away. She is wearing a charming smile on her face as she shouts out, “Tell T’Challa I’m sorry for not calling bac—”
Bucky’s tackling her in a second, “What are you doing here?” He takes her hand and begins walking back to Zemo’s place. She goes with him without much resistance.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” She asks, petulant.
“She would’ve killed you if she wanted to, you know that right?” Bucky’s patience is running pretty damn low after the encounter and Y/n really isn’t helping.
“Pssh! I’d like to see her try.” She brushes him off. Her disregard pisses him off further and he begins walking faster. “Hey, come on!” She rushes to catch up with him. “James?”
He doesn’t reply.
“James?” She calls out again. He remains silent. “Come on, talk to me! James!?”
His feet halt, he turns to look at her, “You were following me,” he accuses. She mimics his action but looks away from him, and that’s answer enough. He lets out a heavy breath. “You know, I would have told you anyway… about this… I wouldn’t have lied… B—but you don’t trust me.” He tries to keep his tone accusatory but he knows he only ends up sounding hurt.
Because he is… hurt.
She finally looks back at him, “Don’t take it personally, Sarge. It’s an occupational hazard.” He can’t not take it personally, as much as he’d like to. They were sharing stories and laughing together only an hour ago. What the fuck happened in the span of 60 minutes?
She pushes her weight from one foot to another before adding, “I’m sorry okay? It wasn’t just—I mean—fuck… I was worried, alright?” Her voice sounds strained like it’s almost hurting her to admit it. And fuck, it’s hurting Bucky to listen to it too. He’d rather she didn’t care if it bothers her so much. “The Wakandans take the whole revenge thing very seriously and you have a habit of running into fights without thinking. I just—”
“—Yeah yeah. Worried. Got it,” he spits out. He was naïve of him to believe that they could just be… well he isn’t sure what he wanted them to be but it was sure as shit naïve of him to think they could. He isn’t mad at her… well he is. But far less than he is at himself for thinking that one twilight conversation would undo all the ill will he had garnered over the course of seven decades.
They both walk back to Zemo’s place in uncomfortable silence.
Bucky opens the door, ushers her in, and then enters the room behind her. “Well, the Wakandans are here. They want Zemo,” he informs them. “Bought us some more time.”
He can spot Sam sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, while Zemo walks over to the stained glass mosaic floor-to-ceiling windows in a… is that a fucking bathrobe???
The room is spacious, with an L shaped couch opposite the kitchen and a small round coffee table in front of it. There’s a table behind it and there’s two twin pillars in the middle of the room at a safe distance. There’s sunlight filtering in from the windows, shining different colors onto the Egyptian blue motifs of the room. Bucky’s gotta admit, the place ain’t half bad.
“Were you followed?” Sam asks.
“Except by her?” He nods at Y/n who’s made her way over to the kitchen counter and pulled herself onto it. “No,” he adds.
“Thought you had to make a call?” Sam accuses her. She just shrugs in response. He sounds only half as pissed as Bucky but he’ll still take it.
Simultaneously Zemo asks, “How can you be so sure?”
“He wasn’t followed,” Y/n confirms. And that for some reason comforts Zemo far more. And man, fuck Zemo!
“It was sweet of you to defend me at least,” Zemo says, turning back to look at the three. And begins rubbing… is that fucking fragrance oil? Is the criminal mastermind really rubbing fucking fregna—Bucky wants to fucking retire. He is literally too old for this shit.
“Hey, you shut it. No one’s defending you,” Sam cocks his head back at Zemo, “You killed Nagel.”
Bucky walks over to the opposite side of the kitchen island from Sam. He pulls out his phone, looking through it for updates.
“Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” Zemo counters, his voice smooth and unnerving.
“There’s nothing to litigate. You straight shot the man,” Sam chastises him. Zemo walks over to the kitchen shelves, standing close to where Y/n is sitting silently.
“Sam,” Bucky calls out.
“What?”
“Karli bombed a GRC supply depot.”
“What? What’s the damage?” Sam asks, rushed.
“Eleven injured, three dead. They have a list of demands and are promising more attacks if those demands aren’t met in full,” he reads off the article.
Sam sighs audibly.
“She’s getting worse,” Zemo notes, walking over to stand at the head of the kitchen island. “I have the will to complete this mission. Do the three of you?”
“She’s just a kid,” Sam reasons.
“You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there. You’re clouded by it. She’s a supremacist. The very concept of a Super Soldier will always trouble people,” Zemo states. Bucky walks over to the other head of the table, facing Zemo as he continues, “It’s that warped aspiration that led to Nazis, to Ultron, to the Avengers.”
“Hey, those’re our friends you’re talking about,” Sam warns.
“The Avengers, not the Nazis,” Bucky clarifies, only to be met with a small chuckle from his left. His eyes flicker over and he sees Y/n with a smile on her face, getting off the kitchen counter. She leans back on her elbows as she rests them on the edge.
Bucky scolds himself for the warm feeling that climbs up his chest with the knowledge that he’s the one who put that smile on her face. He looks away.
“So, Karli is radicalized, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her,” Sam barrels on, adamant yet somewhat desperate in his belief.
“The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her,” Zemo pauses, “Or she kills you.”
“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo,” Bucky challenges, “The serum never corrupted Steve.”
“Touché,” Zemo agrees, holding up his index finger with a biscuit on top. “But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?” He challenges right back and eats the damn biscuit off his finger.
“He’s not wrong,” Y/n chimes in. Both men turn to her in unison, shocked. She makes a gagging noise and her face contorts. “That wasn’t fun to say.”
“Then why’d you say it?” Sam asks, infuriated.
“Cause he is,” she defends.
“How can you of all people say that?” Sam leans forward, his tone accusing.
“Because, I’ve been on the receiving end of it,” Y/n’s voice is low and cold, as she fixes him with a glare.
Sam backs down, instantly.
Noticing his demeanor change she exhales audibly, winding herself down. “I don’t agree with all of it, but he is right. It’s a slippery slope. The moment you begin craving power more than justice, it becomes a race towards supremacy, whether you know it or not,” she says.
“But Steve—” Sam begins, but is promptly cut off.
“—was exceptional,” she finishes. “I am not trying to argue with that. He was… unique.” There’s this fondness in her voice that makes Bucky’s heart clench. “Trust me, I know,” She sounds like she’s reminiscing, thinking back to when Steve was… hers. And while Bucky understands, there’s this small ugly part of him that curls up over itself. For the life of him, he can’t tell if the ugly feeling is meant for Y/n or… Steve. “But Karli isn’t Steve,” she finishes, shaking her head in an attempt to break herself out of her reverie.
“So you’re saying we should just give up on her?” Sam asks, there’s a sense of instigation in his voice.
“No,” Y/n tries.
“That’s what you’re saying, what he’s saying,” he points at Zemo, “that Karli is beyond saving,” Sam spits out.
Y/n however, doesn’t take the bait. She lets out a short laugh, “No, Sam. Unlike the Baron, I’m not fond of generalizing.” She walks over to the kitchen island, standing opposite Sam. She puts her palms on the edge and leans over. “Look, the serum—and I mean the real one, that Erskine made—was meant to enhance who you were… not just physically but also mentally. That’s why Schmidt’s turned into a freaking hell beast. It enhances who you are… That’s why Steve stayed incorruptible. Cause he was just as good before the serum as well.” She sighs. “His circumstances were different though, he didn’t seek the serum out like Karli did. Because she needed power… So what I’m saying is, maybe it didn’t start off that way, but her motives are starting to look a lot like vengeance more than justice.”
“But do you think we can save her?” Sam asks incredulously.
“Well…” she pushes herself away from the table, “We can’t,” before Sam can interrupt she adds, “But I do know a very persuasive little birdy who could.” She winks at him with a knowing smile.
Sam finally breaks into a smile as well.
“But you do agree with me,” Zemo cuts in, walking back to the shelves.
“Maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now,” Bucky throws back, jovially. He walks over to the couch.
“And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo asks, his back turned to them.
“Yes.” Bucky spits out. He knows he’s lying, so does Zemo, but it’s been a tumultuous few days, cut him some slack. He sits down on the couch. He throws his head back and closes his eyes in a futile attempt to curb his oncoming headache.
“From my understanding, Donya is like a pillar of the community, right?” Sam ventures, looking between him and Y/n. “So, when I was a kid, my TT passed away.”
“Your—your TT?” He asks, so utterly confused, pulling his head back. His brows furrowed when he looks back at him.
“Yeah, my TT, yeah,” Sam states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Who is your TT?” He asks confounded.
“Fine,” Sam surrenders, “When I was a kid, my aunt passed away and the entire neighborhood got together for a ceremony. It was like a week long. Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya.”
“Worth a shot,” Y/n says.
“Your TT would be proud of you,” Zemo chimes in. Bucky would love to punch him in the face. He then begins to pull out a jar from the shelves, picking out a candy from inside it, throwing it at Sam. “Turkish delight,” he explains. “Irresistible.”