InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I STILL have to go potty!"

Wanda wasn’t certain why she wanted to speak to Zemo in person. She had her brother with her, which gave her the connection to her homeland, but at the same time...there were things Zemo might understand that Pietro wouldn’t. Pietro hadn’t experienced quite the same losses as Wanda, which meant that there were some things he hadn’t gone through.

But Zemo had.

In the weeks since she’d awoken with new memories and a better understanding of her powers, Wanda had eased into FRIDAY and Tony’s systems very carefully, working out how to circumvent things and how to fool the cameras if and when she could. She had tested it, too - using her abilities to leave the apartment, then the floor, then the tower itself - and checking in with FRIDAY when she returned who reported, each time, that she hadn’t left.

Thus, she was confident enough to use her abilities to leave her own apartment and show up just inside the door of Zemo’s. The drone outside wouldn’t have heard her, but since Tony was so intent on keeping the door shut that it barely could be opened, it was easier to bypass it altogether. Lightly lifting one hand, she knocked gently on the inside of the doorframe as she called out in Sokovian.

“I would have knocked before entering, but I wasn’t certain the door could be opened from in here.”

---

Helmut Zemo looked as though he had made himself at home already, sitting on a couch with a book open. He expected a knock on the door, but considering Tony Stark's security measures, he wasn't sure how it would work other than the standard threats the AI would issue if he got too close to the doorway. Everything had been done by drone delivery, without human contact. At least in prison he had that much, a word or two from the guards - usually orders - was better than nothing while in solitary confinement. He grew used to the checks to make sure he hadn't harmed himself, that he was serving his time, that he hadn't escaped. Everything had fallen into schedule.

Until now.

And this was very unexpected indeed. He considered the Avengers dangerous. To society. To the world at large. These gods among men, welding unimaginable power, power that could be abused. And yet, here was this powerful Sokovian woman, someone who shared a homeland with him. Someone who wore the mantle of loss on her shoulders the same way he did. Not bowed beneath it, but bearing it like a great weight had been dropped down unexpectedly. Like their city had been from the sky above.

He set the book aside, open on the couch. The Black Riders and Other Lines by Stephen Crane. Appropriate for people that had seen too much war and endured too much loss.

Still, despite his darker thoughts, he wasn't a bad host. He stood up, nodding a hello to Wanda and greeting her in their native language.

"No, it can't be opened from the inside. Please come in. Sit. I have made tea." He motioned over to the table near the couch, where a metal teapot and two metal cups were waiting. Stark made sure anything breakable or sharp was removed from his apartment. "I do not know if you've had cherry blossom tea before. It's..."

It was one of his wife's favorites.

"...a favorite," he settled on, pursing his lips a little and nodding, settling on that.

---

She didn’t think it would be. Wanda studied him carefully as he stood from the couch, and after a moment of consideration, she slowly walked over to the tea.

“I’ve had it - but rarely, and when I was a child,” she replied before giving him a faint smile. “It’s a taste I’ve missed, I’ll admit.” She waited for him to pour before picking up one of the cups carefully - honestly, hot tea in a metal mug? Was Tony trying to injure this man? - then sat at one end of the couch. In a way, she could tell that he really wanted to connect with someone, and she could understand the desire.

“Thank you for it,” Wanda said softly, before taking a sip. He was older than she’d expected, but considering all he’d gone through and the fact that he’d lived five years she hadn’t….in retrospect, she should have expected this.

---

The small blessing of these metal mugs was that it was insulated so the heat was maintained inwardly rather than outward into the handle. Naturally, he'd already tried breaking it to use for a tool to make an escape. To no avail.

As for time passing, it wasn't kind no matter if one was turned to dust or sitting in a cell. Memory and revenge had taken a toll on his boyish good looks that lasted throughout his thirties. His gaze was still sharp and his intellect that of someone who had well oiled gears in his mind, churning away. But there were just a few more lines on his face than there used to be, and his jawline was in danger of disappearing beneath a beard if he didn't get some shaving implements soon. It was wise of Tony Stark to not trust him with anything sharp to try to launch an escape attempt.

"This was always a luxury to be indulged in," he admitted, perhaps hinting at the company as well. He leaned forward to push a small dish over toward her, topped with squares of jewel-toned candies coated in powdered sugar. "Turkish delight? Amazon has a wide variety. My son liked the lemon flavor the most."

---

Grief, pain, and a general lack of being unable to bother caring too much had led to Wanda aging a bit more than expected as well. She was thinner and had a sadder air about her - but under that seemingly fragile exterior were strong bones that had born more weight than their share, and she was far from weak though some may think her that way.

Cupping her hands around her beverage, multiple rings on each clinking softly against the mug, Wanda took another slow sip of the tea before lowering her eyes to the candies. Her brother would like them, and she made a mental note to ask him later if he wanted to order a few for himself. After a moment, she reached out and plucked a red one out of the mix.

“I’ve always liked pomegranate. My brother likes all the flavors,” she replied before unwrapping the candy and slipping it into her mouth with a soft nod of thanks. “Do you have...questions? For me? Or do you want to speak of home?” Wanda asked curiously.

---

Zemo took a sip of tea, eyeing her as he listened and watched. She truly was shrouded in sadness, and he was familiar with that. He always had questions, and he always spoke of home. He did not hesitate before putting the cup down, and picking up one of the lemon squares, turning it over in his fingers before popping it in his mouth, and chewing slowly.

His father liked these candies as well. It brought back both fond and bitter memories, his father sometimes espousing supremist ideals that he himself didn't ascribe to. All he wanted, all he ever did, was to defend Sokovia, to the death even. And every Sokovian paid a price because of Stark's hubris, and super powered individuals. Particularly the development of supersoldiers.

"You sought out powers on your own," he started, thinking this was the foremost of all of the questions on his mind. "To become like those you sought to oppose, like Stark with his Iron Legion patrols. You became this for revenge, yes?" He leaned forward a little, genuinely interested in her response, about her decision this many years after the fact. "I want to know if it was worth it. For you."

---

And here was the crux of it - how much did she tell someone who wasn’t a person who’d fought by her side before, but was in fact a man who’d killed many innocent people and attempted to bring her friends to blows? Despite all that, a part of her wanted to trust him - he was a fellow Sokovian, after all, and after their home had been ravaged by so many wars and then Ultron at the last...well. It helped to have someone else there who knew the truth.

Wanda didn’t answer right away as she gathered her thoughts, stalling by sipping a bit more of the tea. Finally, she lifted her eyes to his and if there was the faintest red crackle of power in her gaze, it faded away rather quickly. “What you believe, and what you have been told about my powers...it is not completely accurate. Yes, Pietro and I volunteered for von Strucker’s experiments, for HYDRA, so that we could find a way to save our people...but I have learned recently that what I have become is, in a way, what I have always been. The abilities I have weren’t given to me by those experiments, or by anyone else.” Not the way people like Steve and Bucky had their strength, or Bruce could turn into a rage monster.

“I was born with this power, and on touching an Infinity Stone, my potential was unlocked, so that I could access it and use it to my will. The rest all believe that the Stone did this to me.” She lifted one hand, and red light danced across her palm, then along her fingers before coalescing, very briefly, into an image of von Strucker’s castle on the edge of Sokovia. “I wanted it not to deal out revenge, but to make them suffer as our people had. But I know now that I’ve had it all along.”

---

He watched her closely, squinting as the light moved over her fingertips, taking shape into the old fortress on a hill outside of Novi Grad. Years upon years of conflict and civil war kept anyone from prying into HYDRA's affairs there, and volunteers to be test subjects were no doubt plentiful.

A chance at greatness. This woman had made a terrible mistake that cost many lives, but he wasn't blameless either. She was a fellow Sokovian. They did what they had to, trying to protect themselves from the United States interference and Stark's bombs.

That her skills were innate though, was what made him think even more. That meant it wasn't due to HYDRA's interference, as it was with their attempts at making super soldiers.

"So your powers already existed since birth," he mused aloud, reaching for his cup. "That means there may be more like you. Somewhere. Out there, not yet knowing what they could do. I see, and I will keep your secret."

He took a sip of the tea before asking her, "Did they suffer enough? You joined them. You helped them stop the monsters of Stark's making. You stayed with them. Something, or someone, must have made you change your mind."

It wasn't a condemnation. It was a need to know more about those she knew better than he did. Did they change themselves, after the Sokovia Accords, after what he did to break them apart.

---

The image faded from sight, and Wanda again wrapped both hands around her cup. “Not exactly. There is no one else like me, that much I do know. There are a few who are...similar,” she replied, thinking of Agnes - or Agatha, really. “But no one who has the same.” She had Agatha’s skills without her limitations, which she had to impose upon herself.

At his questions about staying with the Avengers, Wanda tilted her head. “When Ultron was in the process of trying to create a body for himself, I...could see his mind. His desires and his plans. And it was terrifying - he wanted to destroy all human life and remake the world with himself. This was more important than my desires to cause pain, or anything else. That was why we joined them, to stop him. And after, when I was alone, having lost my brother and the last of my family, I...wanted to use my abilities to help others. So that what happened to Sokovia wouldn’t happen somewhere else.” Her eyes fell and she stared into the tea in her mug.

“Since then - I think we have all suffered far more than our share.” So many had been lost, in the world she and Zemo came from, and even though so many had been returned...it didn’t erase that pain and heartache for anyone.

---

Zemo was quiet for a long moment. He didn't like superheroes after what happened with Ultron, and his anger had then been directed at supersoldiers in particular. The last thing the world needed were more lab created superheroes. He particularly disliked those who had willingly taken that serum only to harm others, who had not been as blindly loyal to his friends as Steve Rogers had been. But Steve Rogers was a representative of American values in a country that had been bombed to pieces by the American government.

Certainly, there were some seeds of grudging respect, but also a hypocrisy that Zemo couldn't fully overlook. He held the non-American perspective of those living on the other side.

Then there were those that it was forced upon...like Bucky Barnes. While he had been a useful part of his plan to bring down the Avengers, a weak point for Captain America that he could manipulate, it hadn't been done out of malicious joy. Zemo hated it, in fact, and had counted on dying afterward, knowing his sins were too great, and his job was done.

Yet here he was, sitting within the Avengers Tower, under Tony Stark's roof, next to a fellow Sokovian who could use magic and had lost her family, just as he had.

"You did what you felt you needed to do. If our country remained, if the survivors of that day were not displaced as refugees..." He looked at her, serious and solemn. He had gone on to command a military unit trying to protect his country, and had taken his fair share of lives. He nodded, not wanting to fall into the nostalgia of what he once had that was ripped away from him forever. "...you might have done good, to protect Sokovia. I understand your reasoning."

---

Wanda lifted her gaze and met his eyes unflinchingly as she waited for him to finish his thoughts. She could have easily drawn them from his mind herself, but she didn’t like to do that often, and didn’t wish to start off this particular...association in that way. She wouldn’t go so far as to call him a friend, but there was a mutual respect and the connection of some shared events and traumas that couldn’t be ignored there.

“I may have, yes. I’d like to think I that I would have tried, at least.” What she didn’t say was that after her brother had died and her home had been destroyed, she really didn’t have anything else but the Avengers. There’d been nowhere for her to go, and they had taken her in. Eventually, a few of them had become something of a new family to her.

---

He nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly. He could understand it. Lost and rudderless, suddenly without your family or a home to go back to. She had a place to go, and perhaps that's what kept her from the pit that his thoughts couldn't let go of, or the path he stepped foot on to get revenge.

Vengeance has consumed you.

He blinked slowly, remembering those words and that moment. It made him look thoughtfully pensive for a moment, before he smiled a little, changing the subject.

"I know that I am not popular here. Yet I'm grateful you joined me. Not many would accept my invitation for tea, or want to sit in the same room with me." He tilted his head a little before asking, "Why did you choose this?"

---

The change in subject was a little sudden, but not jarring. Wanda sipped a little more of her tea as she studied him and when the question came, it wasn’t wholly unexpected. For a moment, she thought her answer over, considering what she would say, before responding slowly.

“I barely knew of your involvement in what happened before, though I don’t forgive you for the lives that were lost or the pain that was brought to others, particularly those I care for,” she said carefully. “Yet, there are so few of our people left that went through what we did - and I don’t just mean Ultron. I mean the years before that, of being caught between various warring factions, always in the middle of it. That shared experience means that, despite what you and I have done separately, we have a shared bond. My brother may want to speak to you as well, but that would be his decision. At any rate, I wanted to talk to you away from others’ judgements and thoughts. Why did you allow me to visit?”

---

"I'm not looking for forgiveness, and there is no joy in the taking of lives," he replied. It was an unfortunate necessity at times, even if he regretted it in some cases more than others. "We Sokovians have truly been scattered to the winds."

Even so, Zemo smiled a little. A very small smile, but it still qualified. He wasn't sure it was friendly, since he didn't smile very often anymore.

He would welcome her brother as well, or anyone else. He wasn't looking for freedom, that was for certain. And as far as his part in this life, that was behind him too.

Incarceration suited him. It offered plenty of time to read.

"Curiosity," he succinctly stated, pausing to pour a little more tea into their cups to top them off. "The same thing that killed the cat."

---

“Yes, we have,” she replied quietly. When he added more tea to her cup, she gave a nod of thanks and sipped again, then smiled a little wryly.

“Well, they do say that satisfaction brought it back,” Wanda quipped, a little amused, before sitting back against the cushion behind her.

“What is it that you’re looking for? What do you want?” She asked.

---

There was one thing he really wanted, but King T'Challa had denied him that at the last second. Still, he was under the same roof as quite a few super powered individuals, and there was likely a long line of people that would like to see him gone for good.

He hadn't been happy with solitary confinement in a cell, which was as it should be. Rather he had been reading and biding his time.

He shrugged and found himself grinning at Wanda's quip, which was true enough. It was better to set aside darker thoughts for just a moment. He was here, and at least he could make sure there were no governments or other entities were out there, making more super soldiers or their equivalents, the gods and monsters that now plagued this world.

He wasn't sure where Wanda would be, but to him, she seemed aware that it could fall either way.

"...peace," he finally said, settling on that as the appropriate answer. Of course, he knew too well that peace wasn't truly achievable with so many scrambling to cling onto power or land or money. There would always be someone - or something - out there, ruining it for everyone. "Isn't that what we have always wanted?"

Zemo made a little toasting motion before lifting the cup to his lips, taking a long quiet sip of tea as he contemplated where fate might take him next.