"I never stood a chance." And he knows it. He would have lived his whole life exactly like that - looking over his shoulder, paranoid, waiting for the Wakandans to find him and kill him. If Zemo hadn't framed him, if wouldn't have been the Wakandans, but it would have been someone else, and he'd have been right back where he started.
Only, he wouldn't have been married. And he'd have had to endure the isolation and the constant high-strung fear and anxiety of living a very fragile lie as a fugitive, alone, and scared, and confused.
"I made a vow," he says quietly, swallowing, looking down at his bandaged hand, thumb touching the ring. "I made a vow. And you're mine."
And maybe one day he will see that Zemo had always been his, the day he broke him out of prison and started following him everywhere he went.
"I don't care that you can't remember making your vow. You can take it off when I'm dead." And not a moment before that. Zemo wanted to marry this stubborn whackjob after all. Now he has to live with that decision.
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Only, he wouldn't have been married. And he'd have had to endure the isolation and the constant high-strung fear and anxiety of living a very fragile lie as a fugitive, alone, and scared, and confused.
"I made a vow," he says quietly, swallowing, looking down at his bandaged hand, thumb touching the ring. "I made a vow. And you're mine."
And maybe one day he will see that Zemo had always been his, the day he broke him out of prison and started following him everywhere he went.
"I don't care that you can't remember making your vow. You can take it off when I'm dead." And not a moment before that. Zemo wanted to marry this stubborn whackjob after all. Now he has to live with that decision.