🔫 (Zemo)
Send me a 🔫 for a starter where my muse has been shot.
It was an accident, he knew, but, perhaps one he was satisfied by anyway. It had done what it needed to do, allow Sam and Bucky to keep fighting. As they were distracted by that he quietly slipped back from the action, his shirt being stained with a darker color as blood coated it, staining down from his chest to his side by the time he had gotten a perfectly good distance away from the fighting. This was certainly for the best, he told himself. Though he still had some work to finish, it was not like he had not left others who he hoped could manage to do it, without him. Leaning back against the outside wall of a building nearby, he cupped a hand over the wound and dropped down, thinking of Heike and Carl then.
His head leaning back, eyes closing as he could swear he was hearing their voices, his breathing becoming more difficult for him. Helmut grins, almost happy that he could be free from all of this, finally. All he had wanted, was to see them again. Even if this were only some trick his mind was playing on him as it was struggling to get oxygen, Helmut would dismiss the logic, focusing on what had always mattered to him in the end, his family. His hand fell from the bullet wound in the side of his chest as he passed out a moment later.











