When Sparks Fly

GRC

We head to the refugee camp Donya was in, as we walk in I can hear children laughing and playing, "it's a shame what's become of this place," Zemo comments as he leads us inside. "When I was young, we used to come here for fabulous dinners and parties. I knew nothing of the politics of the time, of course, but I remember it being beautiful."

I look around the court yard and see a GRC poster hanging, but that seems to be all the work that they're doing. "I'm gonna head upstairs. See what you can find out here." Sam nudges my shoulder gently, "you wanna come with me or stay here with the Baron and your Boo Thang?"

I chuckle softly, "I'll go with you. Keep an eye on him," I look over to Bucky and Zemo, and I'm not really sure which one I'm talking to.

Sam and I head upstairs, as we do I can hear a man's voice over the buildings PA system, but I can't understand what he's saying. We get to a split in the hallway and Sam heads off to the right, "hey, kid." As I walk after Sam the kid runs away, but Sam walks up to a woman working at a table in the room, "have you heard of Donya Madani?"

"Um..." The woman stands, "no." She simply states before her and the other woman in the room walk out. "Sorry, no."

I look over one of the boxes on the table, finding the red handprint the Flag Smashers use as their symbol, "Sam."

Sam sighs and shakes his head, realizing that it's gonna be a lot harder than we thought to get any answers. We continue walking around the halls of the building, Sam calling out to anyone we see, "hey, Donya Madani?"

I chuckle, "maybe they think you're asking if they're Donya?"

"Hey, I've gotta get my question out before they slam the door in our face, alright. So just shut it."

As we continue to walk around I notice more and more of the Flag Smasher symbols on everything from first-aid kits to the back of computer monitors, "these people are definitely committed. I wonder who makes their stickers."

"Would you stop, please," Sam looks back to me.

"Fine..." I sigh, walking with him. As we walk around some more we find what looks like a classroom, there is a man kneeling at a table with a boy, and two other children sitting further in the room. I put a hand up to Sam, before walking in, "hi? Excuse me?" The man looks up to me, "do you know a woman by the name of Donya Madani?" I look around and shake my head, "I suppose she was a refugee here."

The man stands, "we're not refugees, for we have nothing to seek refuge from."

I shrug, "aren't you seeking refuge from those returning to their lives before all this and taking your homes in the process?"

"We're internationally displaced persons, for what it's worth."

"You're right," I nod, "I'm sorry."

"And we don't trust outsiders."

"That's understandable. I wouldn't either," I walk toward the man, "we aren't from here, but we have a pretty decent track record of helping people."

"I know what happens when people say they're going to help out."

"Normally nothing, right?"

The man takes a deep breath, "the Global Repatriation Council promised to send more teachers, supplies. That was six months ago."

Sam calls out behind me as the man starts to walk away, "what's your name? I can make a call."

The man looks past me to Sam, "I know who you are. But I can't trust you, either of you. I'm sorry," the man gets the kids up and starts moving them out of the room, "let's go."

Sam and I head downstairs, "we can still put in that call, get them some help."

I sigh, "they have help, the Flag Smashers, they're the only ones who has been helping them, so now they won't trust help from anyone else."

When we get back to the court yard Zemo is talking to a group of kids, "this is starting to feel like a dead end," Sam puts his hands in his pockets as we stop next to Bucky.

Bucky's gaze never leaves Zemo, "the hell is he doing?"

"He is doing something he knows how to do," I cross my arms. "Talking to kids," the boys looks over to me, "Zemo had a son, remember? Before Sokovia literally came crashing down."

Before long Zemo begins to walk back toward us, "cute kids," he shrugs.