It's not much of a secret to anyone who has ever been in a car with Warren Barnes that he does not like being in cars one bit. Not even ten minutes into any car ride, he begins to squirm, tug at his seatbelt, and try to roll down the windows no matter if the heating or air conditioning is on. Anything to make the vehicle feel a little bit less like a cage, whether that be wind on his face or some suitable distraction. All this is because, in Warren's experience, car rides rarely lead to good things. For the first seven or so years of his life, car rides led to missions, which led to substantial amounts of blood and a churning feeling in Warren's gut. After that, car rides led to new foster homes, good or bad, that Warren would leave after only a few weeks. And as of recently, car rides only lead to attacks.

But for some reason, in Sam Wilson's short, gravelly driveway, Warren gets into the backseat without a complaint. Maybe because he has a newfound trust in the three adults he's with, maybe because he just doesn't have the energy to argue, or maybe because Natasha has promised him a pack of Mini Muffins from the gas station if he is good. Who's to say?

Natasha slides into the backseat next to Warren, Steve takes the passenger seat, and Sam sits in the driver's seat, considering it is his car that they're taking. Steve tells Warren to buckle his seatbelt, Warren refuses, and then they're off.

The city streets aren't any less crowded than they were when Warren was with Fury. It starts to make Warren feel a bit static-y, so he turns his head away from the windows and focuses on the notebook that's been given to him instead. Sam doesn't own any coloring books, or any sort of children's entertainment for that matter, so to keep Warren preoccupied in the backseat, they have to settle with a half-filled spiral notebook and a blue pen. Most other kids would complain, but Warren doesn't know the luxury of a real coloring book and a pack of crayons, so he is happy with what little he has.

Their destination isn't far, so the drive doesn't last long. Sam pulls into an empty parking space on the side of the road and puts a pair of dark sunglasses on over his eyes.

Steve twists around to look at Warren. "Lock the doors when we get out. Do you know how to do that?" he asks. Warren shakes his head. "Here. Look." Steve presses the lock and unlock button on the door for demonstration until Warren nods in understanding. "Stay in the car until we get back. Don't let anyone but us in. Okay?"

It's funny how, now overwhelmingly more than before, Steve feels very much compelled to make sure that Warren is 100%, absolutely safe and okay. Something about seeing him so afraid. Something about his eyes. Steve can't help but feel incredibly protective over him. Not that he didn't care before. Of course, Steve cares to keep anyone and everyone out of harm's way, especially children, but something is different now. It keeps his heart pumping a little too fast.

"We'll be quick. I pro-"

"Let's go, Rogers," Natasha huffs, cutting Steve off. She rolls her eyes, but an amused smirk plays at her lips. "He'll be fine."

"See you in a little bit, kid," Sam says before getting out of the car.

"Bye, Warren."

"Goodbye," Warren murmurs as the doors all close. He presses the lock button and watches Sam go towards the patio of a nearby building while Natasha and Steve go around a corner, making sure to keep their heads down. He isn't exactly sure what they're doing or where they're going, but he hopes that whatever it is, it works.

Mostly, the car is silent aside from the faint sounds of cars driving past outside and Warren's pen scraping against the notebook. He's not that great of a drawer. All he really draws are weird blobs that are supposed to be people, random scribbles, and awful attempts at writing his own name. The letters are nothing more than squiggles and scratches, but Warren can pretend that they mean something.

It's a fascinating idea to him. Writing. Words. How weird, specifically shaped lines in certain directions and patterns can become words, and how those words can have meaning. How a pen and paper can become a story, or a list, or anything at all that the writer wants it to be. It's so strange.

Sometimes, during the months of his freedom, Warren would go to the library and spend the whole day there. He couldn't read what the books said, but he could look at all the pictures and trace his fingers over each letter, coming up with a story in his own mind to go with the illustrations. And every couple of hours, a woman would come to the back of the library, where all the kids' books reside, and all the kids would gather around on a colorful carpet. The woman would pull out a short book and read it to all of the kids, and Warren would listen from where he sat off to the side.

Someday, Warren always thought, he would write his own book. And people would see it at the library and they would check it out, and the worker at the counter would say something like, "Oh, this is a good one." And it would have Warren's name on it.

It will take a long time before Warren can write his stories, though. He still wants to. He would start now, maybe as something to pass the time in this dumb car, but he can't write. But when this is all over, Warren is positive that he will learn how to read and write, and he'll finally be able to write a story. And everyone will love it.

Instead of writing, for now, Warren scribbles his little blob figures and just thinks about his stories in his head. Most of them are stories about Warren and his papa. They go on adventures together, but not the same adventures HYDRA would send them on. The more fun kinds of adventures, like going to the moon or swimming in the ocean. The stories are good distractions. Good enough that they make time melt away into nothing but an afterthought in the back of Warren's brain.

✮

Seconds seep into minutes, five minutes turn to ten, and ten to fifteen, and when the twentieth minute of Warren's seclusion in the car rolls around, so do Steve, Natasha, and Sam. Only it's not just them rushing into the car the second Warren unlocks it. There is a fourth person—a man with a bald head and glasses. And the worst part about it is that Warren is stuck sitting beside him, and the man isn't paying much attention to the amount of space he is taking up considering he is too preoccupied with worrying whether or not he's going to make it out of this car alive, which leaves Warren squished up against the door. Warren glares at the man and doesn't let up for even a second.

Soon, they're back on the highway, speeding through the center lane. The bald man—Jasper Sitwell, apparently—refuses to shut up. He's panicking and all he can think to do is ramble on and on about how bad this is.

"This isn't going to end well for any of us! You already have one of their test subjects, now you have me, and HYDRA doesn't like leaks," Sitwell says, leaning forward between the two front seats.

"Then why don't you try sticking a cork in it?" Sam deadpans.

Before Sitwell gets the chance to say anything else, Natasha takes his place, leaning between the front seats. "Insight's launching in sixteen hours. We're cutting it a little bit close here."

"I know. We'll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarriers directly," Steve explains.

"What?!" Sitwell practically shouts, his eyes all wide like he can't believe what Steve is saying. Warren, who isn't so fond of his shouting, kicks the man directly in the side. Sitwell lets out a groan of pain, Natasha snorts, and Warren pretends not to be proud of himself. However, Sitwell is quick to get back on track. "Are you crazy?" he asks an annoyed Steve. "That is a terrible, terrible idea and-"

A sudden thump from the roof of the car makes a single second feel like ten. Warren's heart sinks to his stomach and he instinctively vanishes, slouching deep down in his seat and shielding his head just in time for a metal arm to smash through the window beside him. Glass rains down on him as Sitwell is grabbed by the shirt and thrown right out the window in front of a moving truck. The second Sitwell is gone, Warren scrambles across the backseat until he is right beside Natasha. A bullet flies through the roof of the car, landing only an inch beside Natasha's leg, and Warren is quickly shoved into the front seat, Natasha following close to behind him.

Sam slams hard on the brakes, putting the car into a park in the middle of the highway and subsequently throwing the man with the metal arm—the Winter Soldier—onto the concrete in front of them. The Soldier slides across the road with grace, using his metal hand to stop himself from going any further. They watch him stand up slowly. Natasha pulls out her gun, pointing it right at him, but before she can pull the trigger, a car slams into them from behind.

The Soldier is back on the roof of the car in an instant. He smashes the windshield and rips the steering wheel off of the car completely, tossing it aside like it's nothing. Natasha grapples with her gun, firing shots blindly through the roof.

"No! Don't kill him!" Warren shoves the gun out of Natasha's hands.

"What are you doing?!" Natasha scolds.

"My papa!" Warren reminds her. It's not like she has forgotten, though. It's just that she can't prioritize the Winter Soldier's life over the lives of everyone else nearby.

Either way, there is no time to argue as the car is hit another time, forcing it to spin out of control. Sam can't stop it without a steering wheel, so their only chance is an escape. Steve grabs them all as best he can, and when the car slams against the road barrier, sending it flying into the air, Steve uses his shield to smash the passenger side door off. They use the door sort of like a sled, sparks flying as the metal scrapes against the road and only stopping a solid forty feet away.

Warren grabs at Natasha's weapons again, and it's hard to stop him considering she can't exactly see his hands at the moment. Still, though, she manages to grab his arms, gentle enough so as not to hurt the wrist wrapped in bandages but firm enough to keep him still. She is only able to see where he is due to the clothes he's wearing, so if she can't keep hold of him, she could very easily lose him.

"Please, don't kill him!" Warren begs.

Natasha doesn't have time to tell him that she'll try not to, but she'll do what she has to do, before a blast from a large gun comes flying their way. Natasha grabs Warren and shoves them both down and to the side while Steve blocks the shot with his shield, though it does send him hurtling off of the overpass and into a city bus.

Ducked behind a car, Natasha keeps a tight hold on Warren's left arm. "Warren, I can't help you if I can't see you," she tells him.

Only then does Warren remember that he's using his powers at all. Natasha lets out a sigh of relief when his face reappears in front of hers. "Please, don't let them take me."

"Stay with me or with Sam or Steve, and we won't let them."

"But my papa! We have to-"

Bullets patter against the car, as loud as a rainstorm against a metal awning, and it jolts Natasha right back into fight mode. She stands up each time there's a pause in fire, shooting back at the men. It's not just the Winter Soldier they're fighting against. It's a good ten or so agents with automatics in their hands. They are outnumbered and out-weaponed, and it's not going to be an easy fight, but they're going to have to fight it regardless.

It's hard, almost impossibly difficult for Warren to decide on what to do. The right option seems obvious, but it's not. While his mind and instincts scream at him to follow Natasha's lead, to protect himself and only himself like he has been trying to do since the moment he got free, his heart pulls him in the other direction at the simple sight of his father. He wants to be free with him. He wants to go on adventures with him.

A single question plagues Warren's mind: is it worth it to be free if Papa isn't there?

The past few months Warren has spent, for the most part, alone. Was it even worth it? It was lonely, even if Warren likes to pretend like that doesn't bother him. He misses his papa. He hasn't stopped missing his papa since he left him in the middle of the night.

Part of Warren worries that, if he's not there to remind his papa of who he is now, Papa won't remember him by the time he gets free himself, if that day ever even comes. What if Papa does become free, but he sees Warren and can't even recognize him? He needs his papa. He will always need him and he is sure of that.

Natasha stands up to fire at the soldiers again. Tucked away on her waistband is a gun—an exact match to the one she's already holding. The moment Warren spots it, his hand thrashes out and he takes it. Another heavy shot from the Winter Soldier comes barreling toward the car they're hidden behind. Natasha jumps over the barrier, but when she turns around to pull Warren over with her, she sees him running in the opposite direction.

As silent as he can be, Warren slides between cars. Bullets fire in Natasha's direction, opposite from where he is, so it's much easier for him to get around. He ducks around the side of a car and sees the soldiers' aims all pointing down off the edge of the overpass. Even his papa's.

Warren was never a great soldier, but he wasn't an awful one, either. With years of practice, he has exceptionally good aim, especially for a seven-year-old. It takes him a solid few seconds to aim, though, which is something HYDRA always disciplined him for. Now, it doesn't matter. The soldiers are all too preoccupied with whoever they're aiming at below, whether it be Nat, Steve, or Sam, that they don't notice Warren behind a car, lining up a shot at one of their heads.

As Warren pulls the trigger, so does whoever is hiding below. Warren's bullet goes straight through the head of one of the soldiers, making him instantly crumble to the ground, while the shot from below cracks the glass on the Winter Soldier's goggles.

The Winter Soldier tosses his glasses to the side and Warren, who is now hidden behind the tire of a truck, can only hear them clatter for a moment before gunshots resume.

Footsteps are approaching now. Warren can hear them, and if he closes his eyes, he can imagine two soldiers creeping toward his hiding spot. He waits until they're too close for comfort to make his move. When a soldier rounds the corner of the truck, Warren jumps out and fires a shot right into his soldier. The soldier drops his weapon and grabs at his arm in pain. Warren sends a bullet into his head next.

As soon as he pulls the trigger, he's suddenly grabbed from behind. Another soldier tears the gun from Warren's hand and tosses it off to the side, chuckling pridefully. "You're still the same sneaky bastard as always, huh?"

All Warren responds with is an animal-like scream. He kicks, scratches, and thrashes as the soldier drags him over to the edge of the bridge.

"Still a pain in the ass, too," the soldier mutters. He attaches a cord to the edge of the bridge and the other end to his vest before lowering them down to the ground below. With one arm holding onto Warren, he has to slide his weapon back into one of the slots on his leg to grab his walkie-talkie. He presses the button on the device and holds it up to his mouth. "I got hold of Subje-"

The soldier is cut off abruptly when Warren slits his throat using one of the knives previously slotted on his own leg. Blood pours from the cut like a waterfall and it makes Warren feel nauseous, but he tries to remind himself that he doesn't have a choice. He has to survive. He has to get to his papa, and then they'll be free. That soldier was a bad man, anyway. If anyone deserves to die, it's HYDRA's willing soldiers, agents, scientists, and other workers of any kind. If they chose HYDRA, they chose to hurt people.

With the knife held tightly in his hands, Warren slides out from beneath the man, then gets up to stand on the tips of his toes, searching for his father. In the distance, past wrecked cars, buses, and trucks, he spots him standing across from Steve.

At the sight of his papa, Warren absolutely books it. He puts all the energy he has left into running toward him before he can go away once more. His heart pounds so fast he can feel it in his eyes. His lungs feel like he's just eaten sand and every muscle in his body aches. It's awful, it's just awful, but he keeps running.

The second Warren passes Steve, however, he's stopped once again. Steve catches him before he can get any closer to the Winter Soldier, and Sam and Natasha show up, too. Natasha uses the Soldier's weapon against him, and then he's gone. Nothing but a cloud of smoke remains where he once stood.

"No!" Warren wails breathlessly. "Papa!"

Sirens scream, getting louder and louder with each second until they're surrounded by SHIELD soldiers dressed in black. Warren falls to his knees when Steve holds his hands up in surrender. The shouting begins to muffle until it sounds like distant waves in the ocean, each one pulling Warren deeper and deeper until he feels like he's drowning. All he can do now is cry.

Maybe if he had run just a little bit faster, he and Papa could have been free. Now neither of them will be free. Warren is beginning to think freedom was always impossible.