The following day didn't turn out to be any easier than the previous one for the team: after causing numerous commotions and shooting Nigel, they had to leave Sharon behind to go back to America. Zemo had offered his private jet once again, but he could see how his wealth would only bother both Sam and Bucky even more. Throughout the day he kept a religious silence when he wasn't required to talk, and from time to time he glanced at Bucky when he wouldn't notice: yes he was as strong and efficient as ever, he was a supersoldier after all, but he had noticed that once the flow of adrenaline would be washed away by a moment of rest, he would quickly get overshadowed by his thoughts again. When they landed, the trio was even more stressed than when they took off: Bucky walked away with some random excuse that irritated Zemo, as he didn't like not knowing what was going on, and he was left to deal with Sam, who was a talker no more than him. They didn't struggle to find a spot to crush on: the baron had money and he could affort almost anything he fancied, so he had many properties around there. However, he struggled to remember the last time any place he owned actually felt like a proper home. A house was not the same thing of a home. The only safe place he could think of got bombed years prior and now a new building was replacing the old one: there was no trace left of the couch he used to sit on, the bed he shared with his wife or the stuffed bear his little boy always held in his puffy arms, only invisible ashes and new wooden floors. 

Once inside Sam didn't really indulge on him any further: he looked around to get accostumed to the new apartment and then sat on a couch, pretending to be busy with his phone. Zemo's head was pulsating so badly he had to slow down and lean on the wall, he hid behind it so he woudn't be seen: back when he was in prison he used to take some medication for his mental stability, Bucky was not the only one who had to deal with nightmares and without his pills he knew his mind would turn foggy very quickly. He had asked his butler to get some, he replied  that the new batch was on its way, but even if just a day had passed by it felt to Zemo like a whole week. He was smart, he knew that, but he wasn't used to action anymore, not after all that time spent behind the bars, where he would rather blur all of his thought with medicines instead of having to deal with the voices from the past. He thought a warm shower would do him some good, he shouted some warning to Sam and then disappeared in the bathroom. Once the the door behind him was closed, he felt safe enough to let his emotion come through: when he looked at himself in the mirror his eyes were red, the bags underneath were swollen, probably because he didn't sleep at all on the jet, and his entire body was numb, cold as ice. The house had some of his stuff in, he had spent some time there for a while many summers prior, but never for too long, just like any other of his properties; but a bath robe and some clean clothes were more than enough for his temporary stay. He managed to wipe some stress away once the water started running on his bare skin: he tried to use some techniques he had learned to ground himself, like patting repeatedly the palm of his hands on the chest, alternating left and right. He called it the butterfly method. When he got out he was still a bit unsteady, but he was doing better.

Nothing particularly important happened for the rest of the day: when Bucky came back was already susceptible on his own without Zemo interfering. The three decided that the following morning they would go to Karli's old orphanage to learn more informations about the funeral: Sam was such a headstrong person, he was so sure he could talk her out of any goddamn plan she was setting up and that only pissed off Zemo even more. They had this kind of passive aggressive fight over the super serum that left everyone unsettled and with boiling frustration in their veins, so no much progress with the socialization skills, Zemo thought. Sam gave him one last raging look: he was dying for the moment he would be able to say I told you so to the baron, but that was not it yet, so he stormed off and locked himself in one of the rooms without further announcement. 

Now the living room was even quieter. 

Bucky was leaning agains the wall with his usual I-have-a-staring-problem expression on his face

-Did you mean what you say?- his words came out steadly, the tone calm and low. He raised his eyes to meet Zemo's glance

-I've said many things James and I am pretty sure more than one of them bothered you, so perhaps you could be a little more specific-

-You said...- Bucky stopped for a second, he was running short of breath, so he inhaled deeply before continuing - that the serum never corrupted Steve, which is true-

-Yes I did, he is indeed an exception when it comes to my opinion about super soldiers, but i already explained that to you- Zemo tilted his head and stared at the man, trying to read in between the lines. He could see there was something else he had to say. 
On the other hand Bucky felt like his heart was getting heavier and heavier, and was about to turn into stone. He loved Steve, he had always been someone he looked up to because of his morals, he knew he was the perfect man and soldier, and for that precise reason a part of him also hated him. How could he be a worthy friend, a good companion to such an immaculate symbol? Steve had the ability to look stoic as a rock, he found it so easy to put other people before him, so half of the time Bucky spent with him he felt unable to stand at his side, to fulfill the role even of just a sidekick. He knew that the only selfish thing Steve had done was allowing himself to be happy by going back to Peggy: that was the only time he decided to follow his own personal wishes, yet Bucky, who felt so alone and abandoned on his own, contantly whished he didn't. When he listened to Zemo's speech his words hit him like a truck: if Steve Rogers was the only exception to the rule it meant he was damned as well, and hearing it from someone else instead of getting it from the voices inside his head made it even more terrifying. It was true afterall, he was corrupted just like the others: that meant there was no salvation for his soul, no redemption. 

-Are you going to kill me?- when Bucky talked again this time his voice cracked a bit, Zemo didn't miss that tiny detail

-Why woud you think that?-

-Because you hate supersoldiers, you think they are terrorists that can't help but degenerate into violence. You have no intention of leaving your work unfinished, you need to eliminate all of them, no matter how young, how scared they are-

Zemo looked at him, but the man standing in front of him was not the Winter Soldier, only James, a very frightened and vulnerable version of him. The last time he showed this side of him was the night in Madripoor, when he offered hot milk as a remedy for his nightmares. Now the sun was slowly fading away, the golden hour peeked through the curtains and warmed the bare skin on his arm, everything seemed to be surrounded by some sort of blurring filter, an orange aurea. His head started pulsating again.

-James, earlier before I was referring to those who took the serum willingly, you're not one of them, you were forced and had no saying whatsoever on the matter, hence my speech does not apply to you-

-But how can you be so sure it didn't corrupt me. I still did those things, I killed all those man, I killed Tony's parents, you know that...- at that point the soldier had crushed onto the sofa, his metal arm was squeezing a pillow. Zemo attempted to sit close by, still keeping a reasonable distance: he was now at his right but he still didn't dare to look him directly in the eyes

- I'm sorry, for putting you and Steve against Tony... I wanted to see you all falling apart from the inside. I wanted the world to see the Avengers the same way I did, to feel the same hate, the same burning desire for revenge, but then you forgave each other, and I didn't find comfort in that neither - he took a pause, trying to come up with the courage to keep on talking - I tried to commit suicide. I was ready to die, I didn't intend it to be messy, just a quick shot in the head, but then T'challa stopped me. He told me the living were not done with me yet, apparently he was right- Zemo offered Bucky a half-sad type of smile, he replied with a long stare

-Your case is much more complex than you think. John Walker, now that's a man I despise with every single fiber in my body. It's true, he is a man with trauma, just like anyone in this situation, but he didn't receive any proper help from the government and the choices he's making are deranged to say the least. We have to prevent him from getting the serum, I have no doubt he would take it in a matter of seconds. He's a danger, he thinks he's a visionary, but his morals are questionable-

-So basically he's just like you- Bucky replied with a pinch of salty irony

Zemo ignored his words and continued with his speech

-As I said, I don't believe you're corrupted, you simply were at the wrong place at the wrong time, you never wished for any of the qualities the super serum gave you, you're more similar to Steve than you think. For what it's worth, I am sorry for you had to go through, I told you my reasons were never personal, but I guess that doesn't really fix anything -

-Yeah it's not that easy, John is not the only one who would profit off of good therapy- Bucky was holding the pillow close to his chest, with his chin resting on the velvety fabric and his eyebrows all corrugated. His guard was still on, but he felt a bit more reassured than the other night, even though having Zemo so close to him, with the left knee touching his right one felt weird and intimate in all the possible wrong ways.

-I did try therapy once, after my wife, father and son died, but considering the curse of events, they didn't do a good work with me neither-

And then, the most ridiculous thing happened. Bucky laughed. At first it was a small, shy, rumble, then he started chuckling more openly, his face lightened up with a genuine smile. His laugh was contagious, Zemo didn't know why, but before he could realize what was going on he found tears coming out of his eyes

-Yeah they really didn't- 

-We should give them bad reviews- the Sokovian added with a malicious giggle. Once they calmed down, he dared to touch Bucky's shoulder. At first he didn't say anything, he just waited to see if the man would object to such contact, he was confused but he didn't say anything.

-I feel remorse for what I've done to you James. It's hard for you to believe me, I don't blame you, but I see now you had no right to be used as a pawn, and for that I am sorry. This doesn't change my mind about super soldiers, but to me, you're no longer one of them: the serum, you didn't have a choice, you couldn't do differently but take it, you were violated and deprived of your own mind, there's nothing you can be held accountable for. I hope one day you'll be able to understand that for you own sake - he gave him a gentle squeeze - now, you should eat one of my lokums, they do wonders when one's in a bad mood-