Middle Ground I Bucky barnes & H.Zemo

2

The following day didn't turn out to be any easier than the previous one for the team: after causing numerous commotions and shooting Nigel, they had to leave Sharon behind to go back to America. Zemo had offered his private jet once again, but he could see how his wealth would only bother both Sam and Bucky even more. Throughout the day he kept a religious silence when he wasn't required to talk, and from time to time he glanced at Bucky when he wouldn't notice: yes he was as strong and efficient as ever, he was a supersoldier after all, but he had noticed that once the flow of adrenaline would be washed away by a moment of rest, he would quickly get overshadowed by his thoughts again. When they landed, the trio was even more stressed than when they took off: Bucky walked away with some random excuse that irritated Zemo, as he didn't like not knowing what was going on, and he was left to deal with Sam, who was a talker no more than him. They didn't struggle to find a spot to crush on: the baron had money and he could affort almost anything he fancied, so he had many properties around there. However, he struggled to remember the last time any place he owned actually felt like a proper home. A house was not the same thing of a home. The only safe place he could think of got bombed years prior and now a new building was replacing the old one: there was no trace left of the couch he used to sit on, the bed he shared with his wife or the stuffed bear his little boy always held in his puffy arms, only invisible ashes and new wooden floors. 

Once inside Sam didn't really indulge on him any further: he looked around to get accostumed to the new apartment and then sat on a couch, pretending to be busy with his phone. Zemo's head was pulsating so badly he had to slow down and lean on the wall, he hid behind it so he woudn't be seen: back when he was in prison he used to take some medication for his mental stability, Bucky was not the only one who had to deal with nightmares and without his pills he knew his mind would turn foggy very quickly. He had asked his butler to get some, he replied  that the new batch was on its way, but even if just a day had passed by it felt to Zemo like a whole week. He was smart, he knew that, but he wasn't used to action anymore, not after all that time spent behind the bars, where he would rather blur all of his thought with medicines instead of having to deal with the voices from the past. He thought a warm shower would do him some good, he shouted some warning to Sam and then disappeared in the bathroom. Once the the door behind him was closed, he felt safe enough to let his emotion come through: when he looked at himself in the mirror his eyes were red, the bags underneath were swollen, probably because he didn't sleep at all on the jet, and his entire body was numb, cold as ice. The house had some of his stuff in, he had spent some time there for a while many summers prior, but never for too long, just like any other of his properties; but a bath robe and some clean clothes were more than enough for his temporary stay. He managed to wipe some stress away once the water started running on his bare skin: he tried to use some techniques he had learned to ground himself, like patting repeatedly the palm of his hands on the chest, alternating left and right. He called it the butterfly method. When he got out he was still a bit unsteady, but he was doing better.

Nothing particularly important happened for the rest of the day: when Bucky came back was already susceptible on his own without Zemo interfering. The three decided that the following morning they would go to Karli's old orphanage to learn more informations about the funeral: Sam was such a headstrong person, he was so sure he could talk her out of any goddamn plan she was setting up and that only pissed off Zemo even more. They had this kind of passive aggressive fight over the super serum that left everyone unsettled and with boiling frustration in their veins, so no much progress with the socialization skills, Zemo thought. Sam gave him one last raging look: he was dying for the moment he would be able to say I told you so to the baron, but that was not it yet, so he stormed off and locked himself in one of the rooms without further announcement.