Chapter 1
What happened that horrible day in Sokovia affected you more than any other mission you had been on in your time with the Avengers. You had seen death, had seen destruction, narrowly avoided it every second of your life but as you lay on the ground of Novi Grad that day, trying so hard to keep the chunk of Sokovia close to the ground with your telekinetic abilities it became too much. You vividly remembered placing yourself close to the middle of the rising piece of Earth that Ultron was going to use like an atomic bomb to wipe out billions of innocent lives.
“What are you doing?” Steve asked, running over to you.
“I’m going to try and put it back down!” you replied, standing your ground. Wanda had come over with her brother Pietro, watching you with interest.
“Isn’t that what FRIDAY explained to us. The higher it goes the bigger the blast radius,” you said. Steve nodded, worry filling his face but you gave him a brave smile. Closing your eyes in concentration, your hands filled with dark green energy, tendrils beginning to snake down into the ground as it continued to rise.
“I got this! Go!” you instructed them.
It had felt like hours, you had never pushed yourself to these limits before and couldn't stop yourself from falling to your knees before you knew it your body collapsed completely but you persisted, your whole body and the area around you glowing green. Vaguely you could hear the others try to reach you but you shook your head silently, tears streaming down your face in pain and frustration, blood seeping out of your nose as you remained glued to the ground.
The guilt of your weakness spread like a poison in your body, you weren't strong enough and by the end it didn't help when Novi Grad fell. They had told you that you had kept it at half the height it was supposed to be at, that your telekinetic energy had kept most of the big debris from falling but you ignored their voices of reason. It was Thor who had found you floating in the sea, passed out but cocooned by your powers. Numbness engulfed your body the instant you had awakened and you watched silently for the next few days as decisions were made on how the cleanup and relief would proceed. The answer became clear to you for what you needed to do next.
“You don’t have to stay,” Steve murmured, placing his hand on your shoulder in a reassuring manner.
“Who will I be if I don’t,” you replied sadly. Steve could see how much this meant to you, so he gave you a warm strong hug before walking off to the Quinjet to return to the Compound leaving you in Sokovia.
The terms of your stay were strictly humanitarian, to help cleanup the destruction, your identity kept a secret. Only around official Stark Relief Foundation workers did you use your telekinetic powers in the worst part of the devastation. With a solemn look in your eyes you waved your hands, slowly lifting chunks of peoples homes, their belongings falling into the ash and rubble. After a few hours of this you would walk around, picking up trinkets, photos, anything you could recover. You’d return to your small apartment Tony had gotten you, and cleaned them as best you could with your kit of brushes before returning them to the main headquarters where refugees and survivors could seek help. It was only supposed to be a week but you stayed longer. It was mainly your guilt that kept you tied to Sokovia but soon you felt yourself growing connected to the suffering country.
It was another day at the Stark Relief Foundation building, you were slowly picking up Sokovian, Wanda had even facetimed you for a few hours each night trying to teach you some phrases. It was mostly silent, somber in this wing of the building where survivors would arrive, where recovered bodies were documented. Slowly your eyes caught sight of a distraught man a few feet away.
“He just found his family in the rubble,” Lana murmured to you, eyes glancing at the man who sat a few chairs away. She brought out a clipboard but you took it gently from her hands.
“I got this,” you replied and she gave you a grateful smile before walking off. With a sigh you walked over to the man, who was covered in dust.
“Hi. Ahoj ,” your soft voice broke through the wall of silence the man had created around himself. It took him a few seconds to lift his head finally and the look of heartbreak on his face made a lump form in your throat.
“My name is (Y/N). I’m a volunteer and I’m going to help you fill out some forms,” you said, taking a seat next to him. “English or Sokovian?” you asked.
“English is fine,” he finally spoke, coughing to clear his throat. Giving him a sympathetic look, you passed him a handkerchief from your pocket which he took gratefully.
“I know this is a difficult time but I’m here to help with whatever you need. We will help you find shelter, get food and financial assistance and help with the death certificates of your family,” you explained. The way you spoke to him was unusual, straightforward but kind. It was the custom to speak formally almost coldly to strangers, but there was a softness in your eyes.
“So what is your name?” you asked.
“Zemo. Helmut Zemo,” he replied. Giving him a small smile you brought out your pen and got to work.
In the next few days you came to realize that Helmut Zemo was not just any ordinary citizen, he was a Baron. Even as Sokovia continued to crumble at the institutional level, Helmut played an active part in donating funds to the local organizations. He became a familiar face, always an active presence during the day and after a few weeks of working together you could comfortably call him a friend. You still didn’t reveal your true identity, there was a growing sentiment from some in Sokovia against the Avengers but overall most people were grateful you all had saved the world. You still struggled with guilt of course but things were becoming easier. Spending time with Helmut was peaceful, he would often read aloud to you when you spent time at each other's apartments after a long day of work. Even with his wealth he chose a modest apartment a few blocks from yours. Things always remained strictly friendly, both of you keeping conversations light and rarely bringing up your origins or past life. It became a comfort to listen to his Sokovian accent, look into those captivating brown eyes. Helmut often felt the start of a warm feeling in his chest when he heard your airy laugh after his terrible jokes but he forced himself to suppress the feeling. Just when you thought it would be a good idea to open up to him, to begin to reveal your true identity that was all shattered the moment you entered his apartment one evening. It was dark, only the crackling fire from the fireplace providing a light source. He stood back turned to you, hunched over the fire a glass of whiskey clenched in his hand.
“Helmut?” you whispered, closing the door softly behind you so as to not startle him.
“You’re an Avenger,” Helmut whispered, and when he turned around you saw something in his eyes you had never seen before. Anger and hatred , it was amplified by the reflection of flames in his eyes.
“Who told you?” you asked, trying to stay calm but your heart pounded beneath your shirt.
“I heard the Stark Relief Foundation workers talking about you. How Stark was coming to visit you soon,” he sneered. “Is it true?” Helmut asked. Wordlessly you lifted your hand twisting it summoning your telekinetic energy. That was all he needed, he began shaking his head a dark laugh coming from his mouth.
“What is this then? Why are you here?” Zemo snapped, pacing close to the fireplace.
“I stayed to help,” you began but he threw his glass against the wall, shattering the glass cup. It stunned you, making you jump in place.
“Help,” he said coldly.
“Helmut please let me explain-,” you tried to say, your voice wavering with emotion.
“No! You played a part in it! You’re the reason why my family is dead!” Helmut screamed. Those last words hit you like a slap in the face, face falling as your heart seemed to crack right down the middle. It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room and before you knew it all the guilt and shame and memories hit you like a ton of bricks. There was no use in trying to say something, when you opened your mouth no words came out. Helmut made no attempt to move towards you, no attempt to take back his words as you turned away and stumbled out of the door. Heavy sobs began to slip out of your mouth, as memories flashed in your head, the screams of the innocent civilians, the bodies of the dead. Through tears you made your way back to your apartment, packed and left Sokovia that same night.
You didn’t return to the Compound after that, choosing to stay in Switzerland in a home that Tony owned and had let you stay in. He felt for you, as did the others on the team as much as they wanted you to return to them. This is where you stayed in solitude and when the Accords were announced you had made no attempt to be a part of the rift between Steve and Tony. You thought it was ridiculous and when you were summoned by Ross you ignored the summons and remained secluded. It wasn’t until it was all over that you were granted a loose term of conditions to keep your freedom even though you hadn’t done anything. It shocked you, when you found out what Helmut had done, the plan he orchestrated. How could the kind man from Sokovia become so full of hatred and vengeance? You knew his wife, son and father had died. You had been the one to fill out their death certificates but never could you imagine it would end like this. He was often on your mind as best as you tried to shake him off but he had made an impact on your life. It wasn’t until one sunny morning that you received an unexpected call.
“Hello?” you answered the phone as you stirred the sugar into your tea.
“Is this (Y/N) (L/N)?,” the German voice asked.
“Yes. Who are you?” you asked a bit suspiciously.
“I’m Warden of the Berlin Detention Center where Helmut Zemo is being kept. He’s asked to meet with you and we would normally deny this request but seeing as you are an Avenger-,” the Warden began but you cut him off.
“I was an Avenger,” you corrected but he continued.
“It is up to you if you would like to see him. If not I can tell him his request was denied,” he finished. A strange feeling filled you, why bother seeing him? He hated you, tore your family apart in revenge. But then you thought about the hurt and pain you both faced in Sokovia.
“I’ll be there in 48 hours,” you finally said into the phone. Even after he had hung up you stayed there by the kitchen counter, tears silently flowing down your cheeks.
Following the armed guards you clutched your purse tightly, the nerves finally hitting you at what you were about to do. It felt like you were in a dream as the door slid open, revealing a dark cell with a glass wall and a chair in front of it. There was no movement from the cell as you sat down on the chair they provided you, you actively avoided Helmut’s gaze, setting your bag down. You kept your eyes trained on the piece of lint on your jeans until he finally spoke up breaking the silence, but there was tension.
“Will you not look at me (Y/N)?” that rich Sokovian voice that haunted your dreams asked.
“I didn’t think you’d want to look into the face of your family’s killer,” you said, the words sounded harsher than you intended. By the time you looked up to meet his eyes, Helmut’s face was a vision of regret.
“I should have never said those things to you,” Helmut said, coming closer to the wall that separated him from you. He looked differently from the last time you had seen him, he looked defeated. His chestnut hair was tousled, stubble beginning to grow on his jawline.
“Yet you did and never gave me a chance to explain,” you snapped crossing your arms.
“My anger was misplaced. I see that now,” Helmut began. “I saw the footage, what they had recovered. The way you tried to save Novi Grad,” Helmut said, emotion filling his voice.
“ We tried to save Novi Grad,” you interrupted, even if you could see how the Avengers held responsibility, you weren’t going to allow him to slander your family. Helmut grimaced at your words.
“Why did you ask me here?” you snapped, eyes hardening. Helmut inched closer to the glass, nervously running his hands through his hair.
“I’ve been contemplating what I’ve done. I realized that even if you had not been involved I hurt you and you didn’t deserve that especially after what I did to you in Sokovia,” Helmut said. Lifting your brow you allowed him to continue.
“If you let me I would like to explain myself, not excuse myself. I want to tell you everything,” Helmut said. It felt like torture for Helmut, every second waiting for your response.
“Alright. I’ll listen,” you finally said, leaning back into your chair. The faintest smile filled Helmut’s face as he began his story.
In the weeks and months that passed by, it became a weekly occurrence to meet him. Berlin wasn’t too far from where you resided in Switzerland, the train ride was a part of your weekly routine now. When Tony had called you, expressing his concern at your visitations you explained that this was purely rehabilitation, for both you and Helmut. He wasn’t entirely convinced but he couldn’t stop you, not even Steve when he tracked you down to talk to you.
“(Y/N),” Steve greeted, surprising you in the alleyway by your apartment.
“Steve! Christ you scared me,” you snapped, holding a hand to your heart. Giving him a stern look he chuckled.
“Are you going to see Zemo?” Steve asked.
“Yes. Are you here to try and stop me?” you asked, tilting your head.
“I just want to make sure he’s not using you, manipulating you,” Steve sighed.
“Don’t you trust me Steve?” you asked, stepping closer to him.
“I don’t trust him,” Steve replied.
“He was in the wrong. I know that Steve but everyone deserves a chance to explain themselves, a second chance. You of all people should understand that,” you said. Steve stared down at you with those intense blue eyes but he knew you were right. Giving you a strong hug he retreated back into the shadows.
“What are you thinking of miláčik ?” Helmut whispered one day as you listened to him read a book on Russian history. History was something you both enjoyed so you would bring books every week for him. Heat rose in your cheeks at the way he called you darling but you shrugged.
“How much I enjoy spending time with you. Even in this prison,” you murmured. Helmut smiled, feeling a joy he seldom felt since his family had perished.
“I wish there wasn’t this glass between us,” Helmut said, but his tone surprised you. It was almost sad, and when you met his eyes there was something new in them. This was your chance, to admit your growing feelings for Helmut. Helmut watched you lean forward, giving him a closer view of your face. It was constantly in his dreams, your eyes his new favorite color.
“Helmut I-,” you began to say, eyes full of adoration and sincerity but the words became stuck in your throat. Helmut’s confusion at your loss of words turned into horror as you slowly became dust, eyes wide with fear. The last thing he saw was your glowing green hand outstretched trying to reach him as he slammed his body against the glass, voice screaming your name until you were nothing. He was stuck in his cell of helplessness and loss, and that is how he stayed for five more years.