Episode 8 fanfic title: Meet the Baron of HYDRA, Zemo
"𝐶𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝐴𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎...𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒."
(Mia's POV):
As soon as I hear those words, I swear I could feel my skin shiver at the smooth German accent he speaks in, that I almost didn't Steve growling and furrowing his eyes at his old arch nemesis, "Zemo." Cap growls softly in recognition.
And me, being the one person now holding Janet's small form in my hands, I couldn't help but pretend to ask, "Who's Zemo?" "He's one of the most dangerous people on the planet who works for HYDRA."
"𝐴ℎ, 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝐶𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛." Baron Zemo starts, "𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑢𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑠 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑛., 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦."
My jaw dropped in shock like I had been dropped a bomb on me.
'Did he just-Oh, the hell to the no!' Angered, I hesitated, but Steve struck first, dodging Zemo's energy blasts before spin-kicking the pistol away and pinning him. Earning a chuckle from the Baron.
"𝐸𝑥𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡! 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢." He continues to gloat mockingly at him, whereas I continue to watch them fight and step out of the way once Zemo uses his unknown strength to kick Steve off his chest.
Once enough distance is placed between the hero and villain, the latter kicks his sword from off the ground into his hand. "𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠, 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝑑 𝑆𝑘𝑢𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑁𝑜𝑤, 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒." He proclaims while swinging his sword to point at his enemy.
Only the enemy happens to be Captain America, to Zemo, who acts like the freaking King Evil Arthur version of him.
Damn.
With blinding speed, Zemo lunges at Steve, throwing a kick to his midsection, knocking him away slightly. I silently but quickly took the chance to run to my bedroom, placed Janet in the bathtub with warm water, pour some shampoo/conditioner, and whispered in her ear.
"Wash yourself in my bathroom. Once you're done, meet us back in the hallway. We need to end the new enemy." With that, I left. As soon as I came back to the scene, the two men then circled around each other, waiting for one another to make the next move.
Steve then demands, "How are you still alive, Zemo?"
"𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠." Zemo replies mockingly, "𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒." Several times, he lunges, his sword leaving a gash across Steve's chest. Staggered but recovering quickly, he retaliates, aiming a punch at Zemo's face.
But even Zemo manages to dodge, and slash at the Captain's side. The pain throws him off balance, and he falls. I gasped, "Steve!"
"𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝐶𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛." Zemo taunts. "𝐴 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑐 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑. 𝐴𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑚 𝑍𝑜𝑙𝑎 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢..." He approaches the downed hero, blade poised to deliver the finishing blow. "𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑘𝑢𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝐵𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑦; 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒!"
With a loud battle cry, Zemo leaps, and just as he is ready to skewer the war hero. A sword had clashed with another; only then did I realize that it was I who had just protected Steve from another fight.
I kicked Zemo in the chest, shoving him away, which caused me to lose my balance and fall on my back, he collapsed to the floor with a grunt. "Not yet," I said, rising. "You have one more challenger."
Annoyance narrowed my eyes as Zemo began to laugh—a genuine laugh.
"𝐿𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝑎 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜?" He mocks, standing up once again with the assistance of his sword, only to point at my throat. "𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑'𝑣𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠, 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑛."
'Okay, damn. He really likes calling me that, huh?' I thought, as we circled each other, 'Not like I have a choice here. I mean, Steve just got his ass beaten by him, he can barely stand, and is still recovering from Zemo's sneak attacks. Which is messed up, by the way!'
We stopped, got in our positions, and waited for someone to do the first move: 'Seriously, why isn't Black Panther here?' "I may be a 'little fraulein'," I began, holding my sword, secretly surprised that it was light-weight, "But that doesn't mean I'm a damsel in distress."
"Mia! Ngh! What are you doing? Get away from him!" Steve groaned.
I didn't look back at him since I know that every hero and villain on tv, they get distracted during a fight when someone is trying to stop someone from doing something reckless; And if I'm being honest, I didn't care one single bit about that.
Right now, I have a duel that I'm not willing to end.
"I'm busy. Stay put, Cap. I got a swordsman to deal with." I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the burning sensation in my lungs from... well, from existing, probably. Zemo just keeps staring, a smug look plastered across his face.
Like he actually thinks he's gonna win.
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Yup, I think I'll be just fine...I think.
"Alright, grandpa," I say, adjusting my grip on the sword. "Let's see if you can keep up." Before he can retort, I lunge, my anime-inspired, Jedi-cosplayer-honed, fencing-tryout-tested skill proving immediately clumsy.
A wild swing, more intimidation than precision, meets his easy deflection: 'I should find some fencing lessons after this.' The clang of metal rings. Zemo moves fluidly, with deadly, practiced efficiency. (Props to his dad for giving him the lessons.)
I'm immediately on the defensive, barely blocking his strikes. He's toying with me, testing my skill and patience, but unlike the others, I have patience.
I knew I was outmatched.
My desire to fight Zemo stemmed from wanting to learn fencing, but this was a real duel, not practice. The moment our swords met, his seasoned warrior's precision was evident. Each parry met a forceful counter, driving me back, my arms trembling from my lack of strength.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑛,"
Zemo taunted, his German accent voice smooth beneath his mask, "𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠." I gritted my teeth, barely deflecting a slash aimed at my shoulder, but I still stood without a care about it.
"Yeah, well, recklessness has its perks!" I lunged forward, swinging wildly—only for Zemo to sidestep effortlessly, tapping my wrist with the flat of his blade. "𝑇𝑐ℎ." He shook his head, "𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑝 𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑡𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝐿𝑜𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑠."
I blinked. 'Wait—is he... giving me advice?' I quickly hid my disbelief with an unamused expression, I rolled my eyes, but adjusted my hold like I was told, 'Fine. If he wants to play teacher, I'll use it.'
Once I loosen my fingers a bit, we continue our duel, our swords met again, sparks flying as steel scraped against steel. (Yes, I was in awe of this) This time, I could now understand that my movements were slightly more fluid, and my stance was steadier.
Zemo's visible eye gleamed with intrigue. "𝐵𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙, 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒."
"You talk too much," I shot back, feinting left before twisting right.
Zemo blocked easily but smirked. "𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛."
Swords locking, forcing them into a momentary stalemate, I felt my arms burn from the lack of stamina I had, but I refused to back down.
"Why are you even doing this?" I demanded between breaths. "Steve was frozen for over 70 years. What do you get out of fighting him now? What are you trying to prove?" "𝑅𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑓." Zemo clanged with my sword, "𝐼𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒."
Despite knowing his motivations from reading his wiki fandom file in my world, and understanding Captain America's accidental role in murdering his father in front of him when he was just a teenager, I didn't let it affect me.
Because it's something I shouldn't feel bad for, and it's painful to be abandoned by someone you admired and respected, who had died while leaving you alone in a world consumed by ambition and vengeance.
That you put that anger into your life that it consumes you into something you don't want to be to begin with. I ran up to him by leaving a slice to his chest, and he grunted in pain while I just scoffed in disbelief.
"Justice? Oh, please," I continue, "This is just your ego talking."
With another grunt, I shoved him back, then switched my sword to my left hand. Zemo raises an eye at me, clearly intrigued, "𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘?" I shrugged casually, already seeing the slash marks all over my sweater, but still intact, not to leave me topless with my bra only:
"Nah," I admitted, twirling the blade experimentally for fun, "I'm naturally left-handed. Just wanted to make this more.. interesting for you."
Zemo let out a low chuckle: "𝐹𝑜𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ. 𝑉𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ.~"
We clashed again, this time with Mia leading with her dominant hand. Her strikes were sharper, her footwork more confident. Zemo, though still superior, found himself adjusting—impressed despite himself not wanting to admit that he secretly admires her determination.
But then, a sudden flick of Zemo's blade sliced clean in a "SWISH" movement that I felt something fall out of my hair, and realized what he just did. I gasped, staggering back as dark brown strands fluttered to the floor.
Zemo tilted his head, admiring his handiwork. "𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑒. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑟𝑦, 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘?" I hesitantly touched the uneven ends of my now shoulder-length hair, my expression shifting from shock to fury.
"You—!" Before I could finish, Zemo lunged, and I reacted on instinct. With a sudden idea, and filled with a burst of energy, I twirled, using my movements with fluid and grace, like it was ballet, as I charged him into a playful pounce.
I quickly wrapped my legs around his torso, immobilizing him, "It's not even full moon yet, asshole!" Zemo's eyes widened, not because of what I said but as I had just pinned his wrists above his head with surprising strength.
"𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒... 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑒𝑖𝑛," he admitted, voice almost strained. Mia suddenly smirks down at him, her now medium-length dark brown hair cascading freely over her shoulders. "And you're not so tough now, are you?"
Zemo growled, struggling—until I did the unthinkable.
"I wonder...what do you look like underneath the mask?" Still gripping his wrists, I yanked his mask halfway off, revealing sharp, gritted teeth and a furious glare. I felt Zemo freeze beneath me when he noticed my plan. "𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ—𝑀𝑚𝑝ℎ!?"
He didn't realize I would yank the side of his mask, and kiss him.
For a heartbeat, I pulled back and waited for his reaction. He lay there, frozen, almost like he was motionless, and I got prepared as the thought of him pushing me away soon was coming, but then Zemo surprised me by lifting his head to close the distance, and kissing me back.
With a fierce, unexpected passion.
'Woah, he's a good kisser.' I thought, just as I was about to melt into it as well, he, all of a sudden, shoves me off him, sending me skidding back that I fell to the floor, but I got up quickly. Zemo, on the other hand, straightened himself and his mask.
Breathing hard, he hissed, "𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠."
I slowly licked my lips, grinning seductively, while ignoring his hissing anger towards her, "By the way, that's my First kiss." I swear he could've melted steel with that hard glare: "Oh! And I'm actually 22. So it's legal."
Then—there was a sudden pain. I looked down, only to realize his sword was buried in my lower abdomen. I felt like spitting out the blood from my mouth, but I swallowed it so that I could taste iron mixed with chemicals inside my throat.
"...Oops," I wheezed, my knees were buckling as pain exploded throughout my body that which made Zemo lean in, his voice a whisper. "𝐴 𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑦. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒...𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘." He yanked the blade free, and I let myself fall onto the floor.
I tried to stop the bleeding, but black dots filled my vision. I shook them off, met his gaze, and forced out, "Not as much as you." Zemo stopped, glancing back. "Not gonna lie...ngh but, you're a good kisser."
As if in answer to a prayer, the vibranium shield intervened, stopping Zemo's attack. I glanced up to see Black Panther perched on a nearby marble column.'He made it on time!' I tiredly thought, before I numbly watched it all play out like in the show.
The last thing I saw was Steve finally getting up to fight, took his shield, tackling Zemo into another fight, and then—everything went black.
(Steve Roger's POV):
After taking the shield with the help of the black man in the cat suit, I took the chance to glance around to see where Mia is, turns out that she was....Oh no. Lying on the floor, bleeding from her abdomen.
My heart dropped to my stomach.
"Mia!" I shouted, ignoring Zemo for a split second as I rushed over to her side. She was pale, her eyes fluttering. "Mia, stay with me," I pleaded, pressing my hand against the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood.
Her dark green sweater was soaked, the dark stain spreading rapidly.
"Ste...Steve?" she croaked, her voice barely a whisper.
"Yeah, it's me. I'm here," I said, my voice shaking. "Just hold on, okay? We'll get you help." Her hand weakly gripped mine. "Go...fight him..." she mumbled, a faint smile ghosting across her lips.
Tightening my grip on her hand, Mia pushes me away weakly, and collapses, my heart pounded in my chest as I pressed my fingers against her neck, searching for a pulse. Relief flooded me when I felt the faint, erratic beat beneath my fingertips.
She was still alive—barely.
Zemo's mocking voice cut through the tension. "𝐴 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑒. 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙...𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑.." Rage burned through me. I tightened my grip on my shield and turned to face him. "You want a fight? You've got one."
The fight was brutal. Zemo was fast, precise, and ruthless. But I had something he didn't—a reason to fight beyond revenge. Every strike I landed was for Mia, for Janet, for the people he'd hurt.
Zemo tries to slice me, but I was quick to block him with my shield and retaliated with a kick to the other's stomach, knocking him back. I then spin my entire body before throwing my shield at him.
The shield missed its initial throw but ricocheted off the walls behind Zemo, striking his neck and sending him to the floor. I caught the shield, watching him recover quickly. He front-flipped to his feet and raised his sword to counter my shield, but failed.
He then drew a hidden dagger of the same design as his sword and thrust it at me, but I dodged it and pushed to maneuver the sharp weapon to stab the nearby wall instead before kicking the handle end still in Zemo's grasp, forcing it to break off where the blade meets the hilt.
I continue to use my shield before using it to kick Zemo back. With my arch-enemy down, I approached him with caution: "Give up, Zemo." Cap demands sternly. "𝑁𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟." Zemo pants, slightly out of breath, "𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑡."
"I may not know a lot about the future, but I know one thing about the past. You lost the war. You'll always lose, whether I'm here or not."Just as I had Zemo cornered, he wordlessly retrieved a device from behind his back and threw it at Wasp.
The resonating beeps confirmed my fear—a bomb. I widened my eyes and rushed to her, raising my shield. The explosion threw us back, the resulting destruction providing Zemo his escape. Slightly injured, but intact, he vanished in the dust and debris.
Fire filled the hallway. Janet groaned in my arms.
"Ugh... what did I miss?"
I helped her up. "I'll explain on the way. Your team is in trouble."
She blinks and nods, once I helped her up, Janet's eyes widened as if she was realized something, "Where's Mia?!" My stomach dropped. I turned back to where Mia had been lying—only to find a space and a trail of... blue blood.
"What the—?" I stared in shock. "Why is her blood blue?"
Janet paled. "Oh, right. You don't know. Long story short, Mia was experimented on—gamma radiation, in hopes of using it to make her a super soldier stuff but it didn't do any different. She died, but after a few days, or weeks, she wakes up with no powers."
"But what it did, it altered her DNA. Hank said her blood changed from red to blue, but she's still...well, mostly human." I didn't have time to process that. The trail led toward the stairs. We followed it, dread tightening my chest—until we saw her.
Mia was halfway down the staircase, dragging herself forward with trembling arms, leaving smears of blue behind her. "Mia! Stop!" I shouted, rushing toward her. She turned her head slightly, her face pale, lips stained blue. "I-I have to... get..."
Before she could speak, her arms gave way, and she tumbled down the remaining steps. She collapsed at the bottom, and Janet and I reached her instantly. I turned her over; her breathing was shallow, her skin icy, and her pulse fading fast.
"We need to get her to a hospital now," I said.
Janet nodded, her voice firm despite the fear in her eyes. "Let's go."
I lifted Mia gently, cradling her against my chest. She whimpered in pain but didn't wake.
At the hospital...
The moment we burst through the hospital doors, chaos erupted. Nurses gasped, doctors rushed forward, and phones were raised to capture the sight of Captain America carrying a bleeding woman.
"We need help!" I demanded, my voice cutting through the noise.
A nurse took charge immediately,"Put her here!" she ordered, guiding us to a gurney. As the medical team swarmed Mia, Janet, and I were pushed back. "We'll do everything they can," the nurse assured us before disappearing behind swinging doors.
I clenched my fists, staring at the spot where Mia had vanished, before I remembered that I had a job to do; Turning to Janet, I nodded for her to follow as we both headed out to help her team.
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(No POV): 𝘽𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝘼𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙈𝘼𝙉𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉...
"Bio-engineered monsters, freaky ooze creatures."
Tony says humorously as he and the war hero watch the news on the Ellis Island incident, "Is that what it was like fighting evil in the 40s?" "No. Sometimes it got strange." Steve remarks jokingly. Looking over his shoulder at the billionaire.
"Did you just make a joke?" he asks, slightly disbelieving: "Captain America has a sense of humor." Steve chuckles dryly, "Don't get used to it, soldier. And please...call me 'Steve'." He replies in a lighter tone.
Tony returns the man's smile, before saying, "I found something. I want you to have it." Standing up from the couch, he hands a framed black-and-white photo to him; In the photo is him, his young partner Bucky, and an older gentleman who bears a great resemblance to Tony.
Steve's eyes widen in recognition, takes the photo, and a smile takes over his face. "Howard Stark!"
"My father," He explained, "He looked up to you so much. We all did. We all do." "That was a long time ago," Captain America replies with a frown: "Thank you for the photo, Tony. It's...actually all I have now."
Sensing the sadness on him, he argues: "That's not true." He continues, "You saved our lives today. Zemo and Arnim Zola are still out there. You have a place here, Steve. With the Avengers." Tony offered his hand, surprising Steve, who returned a smile.
"I'd be honored." He shakes the billionaire's outstretched hand. "Now, when can I meet the Avenger who saved me, and Mia from Zemo? The one in the black cat suit."
Tony's face twists into an expression of confusion. "Wait. Who? Hold on, 'saved you and Mia'? What do you mean by that?" Steve swallowed, "Mia is in the hospital."
At this moment, Tony's expression crumbled into something serious that his face went pale. His fingers twitched at his sides before curling into fists. "What?" His voice was dangerously low, barely above a whisper, but the sharpness in it made even Steve tense.
"She's stable," Steve quickly added, but Tony wasn't listening.
"Which. Hospital."
Each word was a clipped demand.
Steve hesitated only a second before answering. "New York Presbyterian. But Tony—" Tony was already moving, he called JARVIS to summon his armor, as it started forming around him in a rush of unfolding metal.
Already having the front door open, the repulsors in his palms flared to life, and without another word, he blasted through the sky; Steve exchanged a glance with Janet, who had just flown in, already clean from her earlier slime encounter.
"We should follow him," she said.
Steve nodded grimly.
LOCATION: Hospital – Intensive Care Unit...
The Avengers arrived in a flurry—Tony first, already at the front desk, his faceplate retracted as he barked at the nurses.
"Mia Lightwood. Where is she?"
The nurse, wide-eyed at Iron Man's sudden appearance, stammered, "S-She's in surgery. Third floor, but you can't—" Tony didn't wait. He nearly lunged at the doctor exiting the operating room on the third floor, already peeling off the bloodied gloves from the surgery.
Janet and Steve, on the other hand, were close behind when they heard the billionaire, almost-demanding voice.
"How is she?"
Startled, the doctor blinked at the armored man. Noticing the doctor's surprise, the suit instantly deployed, leaving Tony Stark in his dress shirt and black pants. Once outside, the suit departed on its own.
"She's stable—for now. The sword missed major organs, but she lost a lot of blood." He paused, frowning. "Her bloodwork is... unusual. Blue hemoglobin? We've never seen anything like it." Tony's jaw clenched. "Can we see her?"
"She's sedated, but yes."
The three Avengers filed into the room, and Tony's breath hitched.
There she lay, Mia lay still on the hospital bed, her skin almost as pale as the sheets. An IV drip was fed into her arm, her chest rising and falling shallowly. Her dark brown hair—now unevenly cut from Zemo's blade—was splayed across the pillow.
His hands trembled as he reached out, hesitated, then gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, but immediately pulled away, "Dammit, Mia..." Steve stepped forward, guilt etched into his features. "Tony, I'm sorry. If I had been faster—"
"You let her fight Zemo? Alone?" Tony's head snapped up, his eyes burning, and the war hero stiffened at his gaze, "I didn't let her do anything. She jumped in when I got beaten up." "And you didn't drag her back?"
Janet stepped between them as Tony's voice tightened. "Tony, stop. We're sorry." She turned to Steve. "Steve was injured, and Zemo shot me, which delayed me." Steve added, "Tony, I'm truly sorry. I know you care about her, just like I cared for my platoon."
"She's not a soldier," Tony said quietly, his voice cracking. Steve's eyes widened, then fell in shame. "She's not even an Avenger. She's just our liaison... our friend." Beneath his words lay a deeper truth, one Janet recognized, though unspoken, creating a heavy silence.
Then, a weak chuckle broke it.
"Wow...you really...do have a heart."
Everyone turned.
Mia's eyes were half-closed, her lips barely parted, and Tony rushed to her side by taking her hand with concerned eyes, "Mia, hey. Hey, don't try to talk." Ignoring him, she focused on the blond man. "Did we win?" Steve offered a weak smile.
"Yeah. Thanks to you."
A faint smile touched Mia's lips. "Good..." Her eyes closed. Tony exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "JARVIS, prep the med-bay at the mansion. We're moving her as soon as she's cleared." A nearby nurse protested, "Mr. Stark, she needs proper medical care—"
"And she'll get it. From the best doctors."
Tony's tone left no room for argument, and the nurse nodded obediently, "I'll see to it that the doctor is informed." Janet placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll get Hank at the mansion so he can have the med-bay ready for her, okay?"
He didn't respond, his gaze locked on Mia's still form, somewhere in the back of his mind, a dark thought festered: 'Once I see Zemo, I'm going to make sure he regrets it.'
Bonus!
After accepting the Enchantress's offer, she and the Executioner disappeared.
Leaving Armin Zola to gasp in shock when he was met by Zemo, who began to tell him about what had happened earlier, the deal, and even the mention of being injured; Of course, his partner agreed to tend to him before retreating to his quarters.
Once he was done, Armin Zola also got ready to rest.
Whereas Zemo was facing a little problem in his quarters, the air hummed with the low pulse of machinery, the scent of antiseptic sharp in the stillness. Baron Zemo stood motionless before a mirror, his mask now removed, revealing the sharp angles of his face.
His jaw clenched tight, his lips pressed into a thin, unreadable line. The wound on his chest, courtesy of Mia's desperate sword strike, had already been sealed by Zola's experimental regeneration tech. The skin was smooth, unblemished.
Physically, at least.
His fingers traced the spot where her blade had pierced him, then—against his will—drifted higher, brushing the edge of his mouth where she had kissed him.
"I wonder... what do you look like underneath the mask?"
Her voice, teasing and reckless, echoed in his mind like she was haunting him.
A muscle in his jaw twitched.
"𝐼𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑡," he hissed to the empty room, as if the word could banish the memory. But his traitorous pulse betrayed him. A single, heavy thud in his chest—too loud, too sudden—made his breath hitch.
His hand flew to his sternum as if he could physically crush the weakness out of himself, "𝐸𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ!" He slammed his fist into the mirror, shattering his reflection into jagged fragments. The glass rained down like broken ice, scattering across the floor.
Zola's synthesized voice crackled over the intercom. "Is there a problem, Zemo?" Zemo didn't answer. He reached for his mask, securing it back into place with deliberate, controlled movements.
The cold metal against his skin was a relief—a return to order. To purpose.
'She was nothing. A distraction. A fool who dared touch him and lived. Yet—'
The ghost of her warm lips lingered, it caused his fingers to curl into fists. "𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑝ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑒," he ordered, his voice steel. "𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐴𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠..." He picked up his sword, testing the edge with his thumb.
A bead of blood welled up, dark against the silver.
"𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑔𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓."
But even so, as he turned away, the echo of his own heartbeat mocked him—a rhythm he refused to accept.