Avengers/marvel ~ one shots

A maniac locked up (part 2) <zemo fanfic>

The shackles on my arms and legs clanked against one another as the guards walked me down a long corridor. I memorised every part of the prison as I walked by it. I memorised every lock, every keypad, every door and every corner. This was just part 1 of the plan.

As I reached the final destination, the guards still gripping my arms tightly, I noticed another man in a cell. All the others were empty. It was just me and him. He had his back to me but I could see he was reading something on his bed and had the radio switched on. He didn't look unhappy to be there, he looked more light hearted and willing to be there.

My eyes had been examining him too long and the guards shoved my shoulder forward and I snapped out of my thoughts and continued to walk into the cell, ignoring the slightly familiar man. He must have done something bad to get here, a high security prison, maybe he tried to battle stark hand to hand like I did. But looking at him he looked more of an academic person than a physical one.

I walked into my cell willingly, I wasn't directly next to his and the room was more of a circle shape, so I could still partially see him from where I was. If he was an academic person I could really use him on my side. I looked at him a while, trying to figure it out but with only the back of his head and a book I couldn't tell much.

The room was silent, and crisp, the clothes they gave us weren't very warm and I couldn't move around a lot in my cell. I just studied the door, work from the basics and move my way up.

There were thick, steel bars over the glass. At least I could see through and I guess the other guy was eye candy while I'd break out. I could probably cut through them with the right tools, the guards probably had some form of weapon I could use. If I could get close to them. First mistake they always made: never carry too many weapons. One could go easily missing without notice.

Most guards carried spare knives in a holster. People didn't usually notice, but I did. It was very common. They always held guns, big machine ones, across their body with both hands as that would be the obvious thing a prisoner would go for. But it's all about the less noticeable things.

For example, I bet not everyone noticed the sight discolouring in the guys hair in the cell across from me. There were small strands of light brown across the waves of dark brown hair, that was slightly pushed to the left. My left.

Shit. I didn't even know this guy and he was already distracting me. I just couldn't take my eyes off him. Even the back of his head I could look at and examine for ages. The book he was reading looked.... sokovian? I remember hearing about a guy whos family died there. People said he went slightly mad and split the avengers up. Sounds like my kind of person

He lifted his head slightly, almost as if he heard me thinking about him. And as he turned to look at me, with no smile and eyes looking straight on at me. I recognised him finally.

"Zemo" I said quietly "Zemo, youre him aren't you" I repeated a bit louder for him to hear. He didn't say anything. He sort of shuffled around a bit and tilted his head up before bringing it down a bit and nodded.

"Yeah. I've heard about you. More about your dad really. That crazy scientist guy?" Zemo didn't answer. It was true though, I had heard of his dad, Heinrich. I were fascinated by his work too, and how he went crazy, much like his son, or so everyone said.

"Rude to ignore someone you know-?" I said sarcastically, smiling slightly as he looked back up at me.

"Sorry" he began, matching my sarcasm. god his accent it was intoxicating, it was a strong sokovian accent that drifted over his tongue, and out his mouth. I could have listened to it for hours.

"I wasn't expecting company. Especially one who seems so pleased to be here." He finished. Ironic he'd point out I was happy to be here, when it seemed he was too. But I imagined for different reasons.

"Well. I don't plan on staying much. If you're anything like your dad I assume you're interested?" I smiled at him. I wasn't usually friendly. And honestly if he really was anything like his dad he wouldn't help me. I'm not known for working well with people. He seemed different but I don't make exceptions for pretty boys.

"I'll kindly decline." He said. His accent still coming through and filling my ears with the music. God, snap out of it, I thought. Even his accent made me want to talk to him all day, I didn't want to be mesmerised by him. His soft skin mixed with his rough look was mysterious. It was like a .... motorbike rider. I could imagine them being gay, and yet homophobic at the same time. A mix of two opposite things.

"I'm guessing that's the longest you'll be silent here" he added, going back to his book. If he ever took his eyes off it since I stopped talking that is. Yeah I had been quiet too long. I wasn't usually this quiet though. It was just him.

"Yes probably. You don't look like much of a talker. And though it is smart to decline the offer, why say here. Although, for you it must be hard to escape. How long were you at your last prison before you escaped again?" I asked. I could see he was getting slightly annoyed, he just wanted to read his book after all. But I couldn't just not talk. It's me.

"After Madripoor, the avengers, the flag smashers. I sort of deserve this, don't I." He said, not looking up from his book. Must be a good book if he preferred it to talking to me.

"And it was years, to answer your question." He added, licking his finger to turn the page. I watched him as he did it and had to bite my lower lip a bit. It was like everything he did I was mesmerised by. Even his hands spread out over the book I couldn't stop looking at. And even better they were big hands. Good sign, I thought. His fingers were spread out over the book too, they were rough hands, but with soft curved edges. There was more of that 'motorbike-rider' opposites I noticed earlier. The scruff on his face compared to the smooth edges of his face and the soft eyes that were perfectly placed in his head also showed this. I had pretty much examined all of his face and hands by now.

"Well. If you deserve this for doing all that I deserve much worse" I sort of laughed. More like an exhaled laugh. Kind of forced. He could sort of sense it too and he looked up from his book. Finally.

"Who are you?" He asked. Damn. I thought it would be something more ....interesting. Or something more heartfelt and reassuring to the thought that I deserved worse for what I've done.

I simply responded with my name. How else could I describe who I am. I'm a crazy, vengeful, feminist bitch to sum it up. But that was all implied with my name. His face was confused though, kind of embarrassing I knew him and he didn't know about me. I'm not a fan girl of his or anything, I just liked his idea to split up the avengers.

"The one who battled stark head on. Known for committing a lot of teenage homicide. The one who sets all those fires. For a good reason of course. Known for being a bit ....crazy should we say. Ring any bells?" I said, I'm pretty sure he remembered me with the last part.

"Yes. I remember. Wouldn't be surprised if you did escape then. You don't exactly care about anything. Or anyone. Nothing would be stopping you" he added. Going back to his book and laying down. He wasn't exactly wrong. Maybe soon I would. But I just didn't care at the moment.