My target flared brightly in my mental perception, a small but blazing spark that I felt somehow ‘matched’ the picture in my head. He was much too far away for my own personal magic to reach him directly, so I couldn’t use his senses to build a picture of his location. Instead, I pulled back a little, carefully using the Mind Stone to feel for other nearby minds. There were five others in relative proximity, but none particularly close to him. My guess was they were in the same building, but not in the same room. I pulled back a little further. There weren’t many people at all wherever he was, so that probably ruled out a military base. Given the current time of day in Sokovia, I guessed he was home—maybe even at his family’s estate, given how few people were around—rather than wherever he stayed in Novi Grad itself.
I opened my eyes, letting my connection to the Mind Stone slip away. I took a deep breath, taking my hand off the pendant around my neck and retrieving my sling ring—I didn’t put it on right away, idly toying with it for a few seconds while I thought about how I wanted to handle this. Part of me just wanted to open a portal immediately. No backup, no plan, just jump in and coast through the situation using the overwhelming power at my disposal. I knew it was stupid to feel so annoyed and upset about not being an Avenger, but Pietro had really clinched it for me the other night. I didn’t need to get Avengers-level backup for every little unenhanced villain I was thwarting. I was freaking Wanda Maximoff.
Still, going into unknown situations alone was just asking for something to go wrong. Having someone else backing me up, or at least aware of where I was going and what I was doing, was important. I picked up my phone and unlocked it, my finger hesitantly hovering over Pietro’s name in my contact list for a moment before I scrolled up to Natasha and stared at her name instead. She had a long, boring conference at the United Nations today that she hadn’t been looking forward to. I’d guess that they’d probably be breaking for lunch soon, if they hadn’t already, but I wasn’t about to interrupt Nat with something minor while she was off doing important Avengers business.
After Toomes, though, I really didn’t feel like calling Pietro and asking him for help with another small fry. Besides, I was already getting both of them to come along to Westview with me tomorrow. That hadn’t been a fun thing to bring up, but they’d both been pretty supportive, if a little worried about how rough it might be on me.
I could always do this another time. I didn’t have to do it right now.
I made a small noise of frustration in the back of my throat. Stupid Avengers. This wasn’t an Avengers-level threat. It wasn’t even a me-level threat. Hell, it was probably not even a threat at all. But even if I was getting frustrated at being treated like I couldn’t do anything on my own, it’d still be stupid to go off and do something like this completely alone. Maybe I could call Bucky? I had no idea what he was up to. He might be free and he wasn’t officially an Avenger yet so it would feel a bit less bad to ask him. Or maybe…
I stood up abruptly, tossing my phone onto the bed and walking out of the bedroom and down the short hallway toward the living room, following the sound of the TV. Yelena was lying splayed out on the couch, an episode of BoJack Horseman playing on the screen in front of her. As I watched, she reached into a bowl of popcorn she had perched precariously in her stomach and stuffed a few pieces in her mouth.
“Yelena?”
She grunted noncommittally, not looking away from the TV.
“…Never mind, I can see you’re very busy.”
As I turned to head back down the hall, Yelena let out a loud, irritated sigh and pulled herself laboriously into a sitting position, fumbling for the TV remote so she could pause her show. “What? What do you want?”
I stopped. “Want to get out of the apartment? There’s a thing I want to do, but there’s a very slight chance it might go sideways. Will you back me up on it? It shouldn’t take long. Like, twenty, thirty minutes, tops.”
Yelena frowned and sat up a little straighter. “Why are you asking me? Why not talk to Natasha or your brother?”
“I don’t need to go running to the Avengers for every little thing,” I responded, maybe a little too defensively. “I’m not helpless on my own.”
“…But you still want backup, so you won’t be on your own?”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “You’re not getting it; it’s different. Look, are you in or what?”
“Well, I offer several competitively priced packages for my services, depending on your needs,” Yelena said. It was my turn to frown and look a little confused. “I’ve decided I want to be a mercenary now. You can be my first client,” she clarified.
“…How much?”
“Fifty?”
I blinked. “Fifty thousand dollars?”
“Oh, right—you said like, twenty minutes. I should probably ask what the thing you want to do actually is, first.”
“We’re just going to pay a guy a quick visit and make sure he’s not up to anything nefarious.”
“Just the one guy? Does he have henchmen or minions? Goons?”
“Aren’t those all the same thing?”
Yelena gave me a Look, shaking her head. “Absolutely not,” she said, her tone switching to an almost classroom-like lecture. “Minions and goons are both low level threats—chaff, your easily-dealt-with followers—but where minions are loyal to you and your cause, goons are hired guns in it for the money. Henchmen are your more skilled subordinates, like Ghost was to Eliza.”
“Oh.” I thought about it for a moment. “He doesn’t have any henchmen that I know of. He’s a Sokovian military officer, so he could have soldiers—do those count as minions or goons?—but I think we’re going to be catching him at home, so with any luck he won’t have any with him.”
“We’re not going to fight him?”
“Nope. I mean, I hope not. Even if we do, he’s just a guy with no special powers. I can handle him.”
Yelena grimaced. “Just one guy and I’m not even going to get to fight him? Ugh. You are the worst first client ever. Alright… five thousand, then.”
“Five thousand?”
“What do you want? Me to come along and be bored for free? I could watch another episode instead. Five thousand. That’s with the ‘family and friends’ discount.”
“…Fine. Five thousand.”
“Seriously?” she asked, a little surprise in her voice.
“Okay, first bit of client feedback: Don’t act surprised when a client accepts your offer.”
“I thought you’d just turn me down and call your brother.”
I held up my hands in mock surrender. “Look, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”
Yelena snorted, placing her popcorn bowl on the coffee table as she stood up. “And miss out on five thousand dollars for half an hour’s work?” She lifted both arms above her head and there was a faint cracking and popping as she stretched. “I’ll be ready in ten.”
--
Yelena ducked through the portal the instant it was open, leading with her gun held at the ready, moving like the professional assassin she was. I followed quickly after her, stepping over the threshold into an extravagantly-appointed sitting room. The ceiling was high, with intricate plasterwork that caught the faint gleam of the small crystal chandelier bathing the room in a soft, golden glow. Walls of muted dove-grey were punctuated by tall windows framed with cascading silk drapes. A grand fireplace, its mantel carved with delicate floral motifs, dominated one wall, flanked by sleek bookshelves filled with ancient tomes and objets d’art. Clean-lined, contemporary sofas upholstered in lush velvet sat atop a Persian rug so detailed it seemed painted. The air carried a faint scent of aged wood and fresh lilies.
Our target was standing to one side of the fireplace, hands placidly raised in surrender as Yelena held him at gunpoint. “Ms Maximoff,” Baron Helmut Zemo greeted me, seeming far too relaxed given the dynamic nature of our entrance. “Питао сам се када бих те могао поново видети.” I was wondering when I might see you again.
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Yelena side-eyed me, keeping her weapon trained on him, but didn’t say anything. It looked like she was taking her role as a mercenary pretty seriously, which was nice. Did she count as a goon or a henchman, here? She’d probably kick off if I ever called her a goon, so henchman it is. I nodded at my henchman. “He’s fine, I’ll watch him. Make sure we’re not interrupted.”
She immediately snapped back into action, moving quickly to the room’s only visible door. Opening it a fraction of an inch, she carefully checked the hallway outside, then closed and locked it before taking up a position at one of the room’s tall windows, leaning against the frame and carefully peeking out through the curtains, gun held loosely but still ready as she kept a lookout.
Meanwhile, almost the instant Yelena had lowered her weapon, Zemo walked casually over to one of the sofas and sat down, seemingly completely at his ease despite the fact that we’d just invaded his home. “Нећемо бити узнемирени. Овде нема претњи. Само моја породица.” We will not be disturbed. There are no threats here. Only my family. He gestured toward a couch across from him and smiled at me, switching to English. “Please, sit.”
“I’ll stand,” I responded, a little tersely.
“As you wish. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“Well, I mean, you did kidnap me that one time.”
“And then I let you go again, as you asked me to.”
“You did,” I acknowledged with a small nod. “I can’t imagine your superiors were happy about that.”
“They weren’t, but my family is wealthy and well-connected.” Zemo said with a nonchalant shrug. “I could have stayed, but instead I pulled a few strings and chose to step away. An American would call it an honourable discharge. Very unusual in the Sokovian armed forces, for someone uninjured and relatively young, but not entirely unheard of.”
I blinked. “Hang on a sec, sorry. You quit?”
Zemo gave a small, amused smile. “Yes. My father, in particular, was extremely vexed by my decision. But do you know what else my father is?”
“What?”
“Alive. As are my wife and son.”
I didn’t respond right away, pausing and looking over toward Yelena. She was still peering through the window, watching vigilantly. I could only imagine she was hoping that this was all an elaborate ruse and we were about to be swarmed by Sokovian military. I glanced back at Zemo. “Family’s important,” I said quietly. “Saving yours is one of the few things I’ve done that I feel like I can actually be proud of.”
He pressed his lips together and inclined his head, acknowledging my words. “You reminded me what was truly most important to me. I have been enjoying my early retirement,” Zemo said. His eyes flicked down and away for a moment. “I am only sorry you were not able to save your own family, as well.”
“…What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your husband. Your sons.”
I flinched, almost taking a step backward, feeling a little bit like I’d just been punched in the gut. “How… that… I didn’t intend to show you anything about that.” At the time I hadn’t really known what I was doing, my magic wasn’t working right, and I had still been pretty heavily sedated. I’d opened my mind to him in desperation, but all I’d meant to show him was stuff that was personally relevant to him, then the looming threat of Thanos. That was it. He should never have seen anything about me.
“You showed me a great many things you did not intend to, I think.”
Well… fuck. That was concerning. Just how much had Zemo seen, when I’d drawn his consciousness into my mind?
I sat down heavily on the sofa across from him. A tiny movement from Yelena made me realise she wasn’t really keeping a lookout for any magically-appearing guards, but surreptitiously watching me instead. I sat quietly for what felt like a long time. Zemo simply sat there placidly, waiting for me to process what he’d just said.
Eventually, I exhaled sharply through my nose and shook my head, still not really sure what to do with that information. “Huh.” I bit my lip and frowned. “Do I need to kill you?”
Zemo chuckled, leaning forward and threading his fingers together as he rested his elbows on his knees. “If I thought you might try to kill me, I would have done something about it by now. Whatever I may or may not know, I am not a threat. Not to you, nor to anyone you care about. Now I am just a man—a father, enjoying the time you gave him with the family you saved.”
His confidence wasn’t entirely misplaced, at least. If everything he’d said was true, then I really didn’t have any reason or desire to take any further action here… If this was real, it was one of the better changes I’d made to the timeline. I wasn’t about to senselessly break apart a family I’d saved. I stood back up and took a step toward him, raising a hand wreathed in red energy. “I need to check. Make sure you’re not hiding anything from me.”
To his credit, he didn’t flinch away at all as I moved my hand to the side of his head, my fingers hovering an inch from his temple as they twitched, sending small wisps of chaos magic into his mind. I brushed up against his thoughts, feeling through his intent, vigilant to any sign of deception.
He wasn’t lying. What he’d seen had shaken him, made him reevaluate. But that feeling—the disquiet at what I’d shown him—wasn’t what dominated his mind. Nor was it the feelings of love, the thoughts of his son, or his wife. The strongest thing that Zemo was feeling right now, overwhelming everything else… was pity. He wasn’t scared of me. Not even a little bit. He pitied me. I yanked my hand back like I’d touched a hot stove, breaking the connection. I’d intended to delve into his mind a bit deeper, to try to check over what he’d actually seen, but suddenly I really didn’t care to.
The former military operative looked up at me, his deep brown eyes weighing me consideringly. “I find people like you, like the Avengers, who can do the things you do, troubling. Your desire to use the uneven power you wield to change the world, to align it with the image you desire, cannot be separated from supremacist ideals.” He let out a small sigh. “Knowing what is coming, the threats this world will shortly face… It is unfortunate. If this were an ideal world, someone like you would not be needed. But it is not, and so you are. And I must pray for your success.”
“…I’ll try not to disappoint.” I didn’t really know what else to say. I went quiet again for a moment. Yelena glanced toward me, a questioning look on her face, and I shrugged. “We’re done here.”
She stepped away from the window, walking back over to join me as I gestured and channelled magic through my ring, a portal back to New York flaring up in the middle of the room. Zemo abruptly stood as well and Yelena’s arms snapped back up, her gun levelled at his chest. I paused as well, the two of us looking at him askance. He met my gaze and we stood there for a long, quiet moment.
After a bit, he gave me another small, tight smile and nodded. “Ms Maximoff… thank you. I am truly grateful.”
…Had anyone else ever said that to me? For literally anything I’d done this time around? For anything meaningful? I didn’t know how to respond. My face started to grow a little hotter and I turned away from him, stepping through the portal without another word.
--
My phone vibrated and I checked it to see—as expected—a text from Nat letting me know she was ready to be picked up. I got up from the couch, where Yelena and I had just binged six consecutive episodes of BoJack Horseman and were halfway through a seventh, and fumbled with my sling ring for a moment.
I focused, channelling magic into the ring as I fixed Natasha’s image in my mind’s eye, a portal quickly spiralling into existence. Natasha was directly on the other side, dressed in a cute pencil skirt and matching blazer with a simple white blouse under it and carrying a slim leather business bag. She stepped through, shooting me a tired smile—she looked a bit over it all—but then almost immediately perked up, nostrils flaring.
“Oh, wow, that smells great,” she said, looking around. I dismissed the portal behind her as her eyes found the two cooling racks sitting on the kitchen counter. “Did you bake?”
I grinned and stepped into the kitchen, waiting for her next to the counter. “Yep.”
Natasha backed off toward the front door for a moment, returning a couple of moments later sans high heels and bag, to inspect my handiwork. Yelena stood up from the couch as well, pausing the TV and moving quietly over into the kitchen to stand with us, her back to the dining table. She was trying to be subtle about it, but she’d been eyeing off the cookies since they’d come out of the oven; I’d told her she had to wait until Nat got here before she could have one.
I reached over and plucked one of the cookies from the first batch; it had deformed in the oven a bit and had managed to form into a vague heart shape. “Look, this one’s a heart—that’s how I feel about you!” I said, offering it to Natasha. Her smile was genuine as she took it from me, if a teensy bit pained by the cheesiness of what I’d just said.
Yelena was hovering nonchalantly, trying not to make it too obvious how keen she was to get past Nat and me to the racks of delicious baked treats. There was another misshapen cookie on the rack nearest to me, so I picked it up. “This one’s like… Michigan?” I waved it toward Yelena. “That’s how I feel about you.”
She blinked, her brow creased with confusion and suspicion, but accepted the cookie. “What does that mean?!”
“These are really good,” Nat mumbled around a half-mouthful of cookie. “I didn’t know you baked.”
“I don’t, really.” I did like cooking, but found baking pretty intimidating with how strict you generally had to be with sticking to measurements and exact recipes. Making the cookies had been a little stressful, but I’d needed something to focus on that would take my mind off the earlier encounter with Zemo and, overall, I was pretty pleased with how they’d turned out. “It’s Sam’s birthday tomorrow—I don’t know if anyone has anything planned, so thought I’d just drop these off at the compound in the morning before we leave. I wasn’t confident enough to make a good cake.”
“Oh, it is too,” Nat said. “I’d forgotten. Steve’s probably doing something, but I don’t think Sam likes to make a big deal out of his birthday.”
“But he will like these cookies,” I said confidently and she nodded her agreement, reaching for another one. I gently smacked her hand away. “You’ll spoil your dinner, and these are for everyone,” I scolded her.
Natasha made a noise of protest and gestured toward Yelena, who had sneakily retreated to the couch, a pair of stolen cookies clutched in her thieving hands. I hadn’t even noticed her get past me to get at them. She shot me a triumphant, challenging look, as if daring me to do something about it.
Looking decidedly unimpressed, I turned back to the tray. “Fine, fine. One more; the rest are going away.”
Nat happily pecked me on the cheek, took another cookie, then went to get changed out of her work clothes. I got out a Tupperware container and packed the rest away, then looked suspiciously over at Yelena, who had unpaused the TV without waiting for me. Her eyes flicked casually over to the container of cookies, then back to the TV. I flexed my fingers and red wisps of chaos magic boiled over the Tupperware, holding it shut as I tied off the magic and laid a linked battery enchantment on the lid. I heard a disappointed ‘hmmph’ from Yelena and allowed myself a small smile of satisfaction as I put the sealed container of cookies on the side of the dining table, ready for tomorrow.