Chapter 1
To Mr. James Barnes,
I have been permitted to send letters while in the Raft, per my good behavior, on the condition that Agent Ross examine them to ensure they are free of any content that could be dangerous to others, myself, or insinuate/participate in disruption of prison activities.
This is the exact phrasing he used- I attempted to promise not to send anything untoward, to which he replied that he didn't give "a flying fuck what dick wagging porn you write, or whatever shit you're into, so long as you keep your conniving bitch fingers off my prison peace."
When I asked him to explain what he meant by 'conniving bitch fingers', he then provided paperwork with the above wording.
I told him I didn't have anyone to write to, except perhaps the man I once used as a tool pon discovering the machine-esque "activation words" programmed into him by the Hydra torturers, to try and get to kill his boyfrbest friend.
And he told me it sounded like I had apologies to make.
I know you're making amends as well. And last I saw you- you spared me. We both know I didn't deserve it.
I thought that was the end of our intersection, that we had played our shared scenes to the end of the line. I swear I felt closure that day.
But I've had you on my mind. Is it bordering on untoward if I say 'incessantly'?
Maybe it wasn't closure after all. Maybe it was just relief and regret for the waste of bullets.
I don't demand or even expect a reply, but that doesn't stop me from wishing for one.
Respectfully,
Helmut Zemo
--
Zemo,
Glad my tax money is going to paying for your postage.
Kidding. I don't pay taxes. I don't think the world wants to admit I exist enough to charge me taxes.
Never thought I'd wish I had to pay taxes. To be a normal guy in Brooklyn again, spending money on nice shirts and fixing my hair for dames who wanted me to buy them and all their friends drinks, and I wasn't going to say no
I'm only writing to waste Ross's time. Hey prick. I hope you get a paper cut.
Was I talking to Ross, or to Zemo? Yes.
Bucky
--
To Bucky,
I write to inform you there is no blood on the envelope or letter I received, though it is open, as expected. You'll simply have to write again and we can hope. Or perhaps Ross doesn't bleed red, and is in fact some sort of transparent-blooded reptile or alien. It would certainly explain a few things.
Brooklyn sounds like it was nice, in the 1940's. I imagine taxes were much lower, though without internet, I lack the ability to look it up. Would you be a doll for me look it up compare current taxes to the taxes you knew in the 1940's? Though this is without taking into account inflation.
Just dames?
Thank you for your reply, even if its simply the fact that your dislike of Ross is superior to your dislike of me.
Respectfully,
Helmut Zemo
--
Zemo,
Shouldn't you know more about taxes and money than me? I'm a poor orphan gone military brat. You're a damn baron. Whatever that means. Is that below a count or above one?
How come you don't sign your letters with Baron Helmut Zemo IV, Esquire, or however fancy people like you do? Is it killing you to not have a fancy ring to push into wax?
It was the 1940's. Bars where you buy other men drinks weren't common. I knew of a few, but I thought if I went to one, it would keep me out of the army. Not that I would want I like dames What the fuck do you want from me Taxes might have been lower back then, but that doesn't mean the 30's and 40's didn't have their issues.
Thought you knew everything about everything to do with me. When you hatched your evil plan and did all your research. There's no way you don't know everything about me and what I am and what I was and what I did, the way you were selling me to Selby, it was verbatim like every time I was brought to meet powerful politicians
-Bucky
PS- I'd tell you to eat shit and die, Ross, but knowing you, you'd probably get off on it.
PPS- when did you start calling me Bucky?
--
To James,
Apologies for calling you Bucky. You signed as such, so I presumed that's what you wanted to be called. I won't do it again.
I only sign as Helmut Zemo because that is all I am now. No country to be a baron of. I was not named after my fathers. And I am not part of the gentry, so not an esquire.
All the files I read on you, and none mentioned once what you wanted or liked. I know how long you can hold your breath and how many calories you need in a day and how fast your hair grows and the length of every one of your fingers. I never learned you like men from my research.
I could tell from the way you lick your li I saw how you interacted with Steve, how you moved around him like he was There's no such thing as a gaydar, but you're obv I am just observant. I didn't wish to force you to revisit anything when I presented you to Selby, but when I had warned you I would need you to play your role exactly, I meant your entire role. I didn't want to describe that facet of your history- I didn't think you would appreciate bringing it up in front of Sam and Sharon. Sharon probably suspects or knows, but Sam seems to be too much of an optimist to consider all the ways you were used.
If you ever want to talk, I am here.
Respectfully,
Helmut Zemo
--
Zemo,
I already have a therapist.
Hey Ross, does this smell like anthrax to you?
Bucky
--
To James,
I apologize if I overstepped. I assume your silence indicates you'll no longer be writing to me, and I'll cease my letters as well. This one had to be sent, though. You deserve an apology.
Sincerely and respectfully,
Helmut Zemo
--
Zemo,
I did reply. AJ told me to put a joke about anthrax in my letter and I guess Ross didn't like it or something, because it never got to you. I think I probably missed some joke. Not silent- you can keep writing. I hear the Raft is to just make people disappear, not to help them- Sam has been working on a lot of political stuff. I haven't been keeping up much, but he wanted me to do a speech when he was working on prison reform. About how getting help was better for me than locking me up, and because of that I went from an enemy to an ally, etc etc. I'm pretty sure he spends more of his time in uniform doing speeches than he does fighting. Shame, that suit has some cool tech. But I guess fighting doesn't actually solve much.
I remembered- I told you I already have a therapist. I don't want to tell her we're writing, but I probably should. She might tell me to stop. Or maybe she'll be on board with it being reformative.
AJ is the only one who knows. He wasn't snooping, but I gave him a little talk on privacy. I told him to get my sunglasses for me from my coat pocket and he found the letters. But he's good at keeping secrets. And now he knows about privacy. Glad he learned with me, I guess, rather than with people who actually get privacy. Its not like its something I've had for the past 70 years.
-Bucky
--
To James,
I recommend you look up the anthrax scare. Clever of AJ. You shouldn't keep secrets from your th Was it our talk about dames and men that sparked you to find a boyfriend so suddenly? I hope he respects your pr Who is AJ, may I ask?
It sounds like Sam is doing a lot of good. I'm glad there's less violence going on.
My letters were in your jacket pocket? Why are they there?
I'm glad you're not ignoring me.
Sincerely,
Helmut Zemo
--
Zemo,
AJ is Sam's nephew. I've been staying with them whenever I can, helping with the boat, supposedly, but I end up helping with the kids a lot too. I hope the hydra bastards are rolling in their graves, every time I use their godforsaken serum strength to throw a laughing child off the dock or to help fix an old family fishing boat. Fuck their super weapon. I'm gonna use their awful weapon (me) for peaceful fun (though its actually not all that peaceful, playing with kids this age- they play hard.) AJ calls me the "winter yeeter". He spelled that for me so I could tell you.
Learning the language of internet age kids is harder than Romanian.
Sarah keeps getting mad because we break their glasses a lot. I didn't tell her that AJ is doing it on purpose because he wants contact lenses. I owe him a secret.
My letters were in my pocket because that seemed like a safe place for them. You were a soldier once. You know how it is. If you're not carrying it, it could get left behind if someone from your past finds you and you have to go on mission on short notice and the time you take to go back to your place and grab your shit is the time it takes people to die someone bombs your house you get a bag dropped over your head and wake up strapped to a table surrounded by the enemy you have to go and there's no time.
And I like to think about what I'm going to write back. I want I feel like You're I don't want to write too fast and accidentally give you information you shouldn't have or something.
What's the Raft like, anyways?
-Bucky
--
To James,
I am eternally surprised that Ross allows all of your letters through. Wouldn't a criminal like me, dangerous enough to make it to the Raft, and with a history of manipulation, trickery, and using people, not be allowed to have information about people's family and children? I hope I'm an exception and the other residents of the Raft aren't getting information like this.
The Raft is boring. Mostly isolated. I keep thinking 'when will this be over? How much time do I have left?' And then I remember this will never be over. I will spend the rest of my life here. And then the thoughts of all the ways I could go about shortening that I suppose that is the point, though. It's not supposed to be enjoyable. It's prison, a punishment for my crimes. All of which I did not argue or deny. And given the chance, I would do again.
Your letters break up the days, bring some mental simulation, at least.
I'm glad to hear you're using the serum for something peaceful. You know my opinion of the serum, the program. I'm not sure if I ever said it explicitly, but you're special the exception excluded from the true evil of the program and the supremacy that is inherent and indisputable, in the people who receive the serum.
Sincerely,
Helmut Zemo
--
I'm the one good one? Is that why you put Steve, Stark, and I in a pit and hoped we'd all kill each other?
I almost felt sorry for you, being in prison. Thanks for reminding me who I'm talking to.
--
James,
I used you. And I would do everything the same again... except maybe I would have a talk with you, rather than using the command words to get your help. Now knowing that there was a person inside the зимний солдат all along, and knowing- that person has regrets, fears, wants to make amends for actions you had no control over, wants to only use the weapon to make children laugh and help support a family's fishing boat, loved women and wanted to love men- knowing that, I think we could have been allies, even drinking friends, rather than the user and the used.
I only mean to say that you were as much a victim as I, of the super soldier program and the escalation of hero-weapons. We could have dismantled it together, when we were instead too busy fighting to control each other.
Sincerely,
Helmut Zemo
--
And what about Steve?
- Bucky