Unknown location
2:13 p.m.
The world was so full of light. It was so secure, so tight, so comforting to know its walls kept out the dark and kept him safe. Sometimes that’s all one had from slipping to insanity: a world to hold onto. For many, a world to them meant family, friends, people who you would love and bleed for through the fire and the storm.
And for Zemo, his world was gone, left by a new one consisting of a large glass prison, one eerily similar to the one a certain James Barnes had punched through a few days ago. Maybe it was the same one to add that extra bit of irony to the situation. Maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t care.
His mission was over.
His pistol was gone, his jacket and boots, as well. Instead, he was gifted with cold, hard shackles wrapped tightly around his ankles. There was a shirt, some pants, no socks, but some shoes to keep his feet warm. The essentials. The last he remembered was hearing the crack of the pistol firing off beneath his chin, a flash of black, and then he woke up here. In the prison.
He was not granted time to view the television, or given the opportunity to read any newspapers. No one even spoke to him. There was no way in heaven or hell that he could have known if his plan had come to fruition. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe you just needed to relish in the thought that the damage had been done and the people on the outside had to deal with it. As for the Avengers…
Only time will tell. But he did have a feeling.
The door opened, Zemo opening his eyes to see Everett Ross stroll inside. His smile was wide and cocky, his eyes even more so. Zemo played along.
“Meals are eight to five!” Ross called, approaching the glass. “Toilet privileges twice a day! Raise your voice at me or anyone else here… zap! Attempt to escape or even touch the glass… zap! Do anything other than sit there and think about your worthless life… guess what happens?”
Zemo said nothing. Just stared blankly at him, a small dosage of malicious intent hidden behind his gaze. Ross picked up on it, sneering on the other side.
“Exactly. You don’t guess. You live, think, and breathe if we tell you to. That’s the kind of world you live in now, Colonel. Better get used to it.”
He leaned back, his arms crossed, his smirk still present. Zemo watched him like a predator behind the cage.
Ross said, “You got quite some time to get used to it. Maybe think about all those innocent people you killed, not even counting how many lives you threatened. If Princess Twilight had died in that explosion…” he leaned forward, head almost pressed to the glass, eyes beyond the point of serious, “you would have started a war between two different worlds. How the hell does that sound?”
Zemo exhaled through his nose, closing his eyes and breathing in a fresh breath of contained air. Trapped air. It was the best breath of air he’d ever taken. “Princess Twilight had died long before Vienna,” he whispered in ecstasy.
“You’re insane.” Ross shook his head, seeing the smile on Zemo’s lips. “But you lost, didn’t you? After so long, losing so much, I can’t even imagine your mental state. Especially since it was worth nothing. Tony Stark… and Steve Rogers… even Princess Twilight… are all still alive and well. The Avengers are still alive… and here you are. Trapped.”
The man behind the glass said nothing for a moment, allowing Ross to lean back and drop his arms. He watched as Zemo opened his eyes. He almost swore he saw someone else in those pupils. “I am freer than they will ever be,” he hissed.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
He left him to rot the rest of his days in that cell. He didn’t look back. He didn’t need to with what Zemo began saying.
“Let the dust settle. Let it all rest. It’s only a matter of time.”
Even Everett Ross, the hard-ass he was, lingered a bit as he locked the door behind him.