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The look in Tony Stark’s eyes was all Zemo needed to see to realize he had succeeded.
He spent over one entire year planning this. Crying, screaming, wishing he was dead. Listening to the voice mails, to the last things left of his wife. Of his family. All of them, dead, because of those who were supposed to protect the world.
One year spent deciding the best way to bring the Avengers apart, against all hope.
He couldn’t do it, not really – he couldn’t rely on his forces alone. More powerful men than him had tried without succeeding. No, he needed something else.
Therefore, he did his homework. He studied. He figured out a way to take the Avengers apart from within.
“Yes.”
Of course, Captain America knew about it. In the past year, Zemo gathered every single detail about what those murderers did. He watched every single step, every mission, every personal relationship. He knew more about them than they knew about each other.
See, his strategy wasn’t a hit and miss.
He knew Steve Rogers knew about the death of Tony Stark’s parents. He also knew he hadn’t told him.
Zemo had watched the Quinjet fly away from Sokovia like nothing happened, and had noticed something the public press didn’t say. He’d noticed Iron Man flying away with Captain America in his arms, and he almost didn’t spare them a thought, in the frenzy days that followed. He remembered watching them and being surprised, before all he could feel was pain, grief, anger.
He’d discovered, later on, that the very leaders of the group that brushed off the death of his family as a “casualty” were intimate with each other.
It wasn’t easy. Oh no, he had to bend over backwards to find out that particular piece of information. It went under the almost inaccessible “classified information”, probably because there was a high chance that the bad guys could use that information for their own advantage.
They were right.
The leaders of the Avengers, two of the most powerful and influential men in the ill-assorted group, were close with each other, enough to be lethal. Different at heart, they complemented each other to the very last bone.
Pull them apart, the others would fall like dead leaves on the ground.
Like his family.
“Yes” was the word he was itching for Stark to hear.
See, it wasn’t enough to let the man know about the death of his own parents. The man was too much of a machine to let that affect him, given the right circumstances.
Oh, Zemo thought about it, very much. He figured if Stark had all his friends on his side, if he had Rogers, his partner, by his side, it would have never played out the way Zemo wanted.
He needed to be careful, to plan the whole thing just right.
He needed for Stark to be betrayed by the people he trusted the most. He needed Steve Rogers to betray Tony Stark.
The worst kind of hurt, for men like Stark, didn’t come from just some deaths – not even from those of his own family. The man had too much blood on his hands to give a shit about something as simple as death.
No, for them, the worst hurt would come from the betrayal of those they entrusted with their love.
Zemo got his confirmation with Stark’s question – “Did you know?” – although he didn’t need one.
The physical pain of seeing his own parents getting murdered wasn’t going to be enough – some men, entrusted with the protection of the world.
“Don’t bullshit me Rogers, did you know?”
Like a scared little kid, searching for protection from the monsters in the closet, under the bed, in his head. Searching for comfort in all the wrong places. Zemo spent over one year in making sure he wouldn’t find that protection.
Sweep the ground off their feet, watch them fall.
“Yes.”
A flinch.
Stark’s posture, his crumpled face, his hurt.
Everything was visible from Zemo’s point of view, like he was physically in front of him. He breathed in, feeling the oxygen in his lungs for the first time after so long.
Silence stretched in the Siberian room for the sweetest seconds.
Hurt them at their very core, watch them fall.
A blow to Captain America’s face, and just like that, Zemo knew he had succeeded. He’d simply needed to push the first domino card, for the past year to gain meaning. One push, and the death of his family got avenged. One push, and the lives of those murderous vigilantes got crumpled and fell apart. An organization, hurt to its core. One heart, broken.
One love, snuffed out.
Zemo smiled and walked away as the fight began.