~*~ FREEDOM?~*~

Day 3, 8:45am

It took the whole night for Scott Lang aka Ant-man to arrive in the morning. Sam met up with him out on the street first. Steve could just barely hear them talking as they made their way into the building. Bucky stiffened once they reached the second floor. It wasn't hard to hear them. You have to go out of your way to not make any noise, with all the broken glass and trash.

"It's okay Bucky, just Sam and a friend. Together we are going to get you out of here," Steve said gently, he just barely stopped himself from reaching out and brushing Bucky's hair out of his face.

The weary man was just hanging his head, his eyes closed. If not for him sitting up and his loud ragged breathing, Steve would have thought his old friend unconscious.

Steve ran a hand though his own hair instead. He met up with Sam and Scott in the doorway of the room that Bucky was in. The new man was eyeing the dead bodies still scattered about with wariness. And Steve didn't have to wait long before Scott noticed the trapped man behind him.

Steve frowned when Scott's face filled with pity. So he stepped forward, drawing Scott's attention to him, and held out his hand.

"Steve Rogers, heard you could help us out," Steve said as he shook the new man's hand.

"Oh, um, Scott Lang, I'll see what I can do," Scott replied suddenly looking star-struck.

Bucky didn't react well when Scott entered the room. The pain from his struggles left the trapped man gasping for breath. It took Scott and Sam leaving the room for Steve to make any progress in calming his friend down.

As Steve reassured Bucky, he could hear Sam and Scott talking in the other room, too soft to hear them clearly.

"We're going to get you out, pal. I promise," Steve said gently. He was sitting beside Bucky now with the trapped man leaning against him; he had eventually allowed Steve to stay closer after Steve had needed to hold him up when the trapped man had gone unconscious to keep him from straining where flesh met metal.

Steve had been reminded of the day he had pulled Bucky off Zola's table in Italy, his friend having been too disoriented to escape alone.

When Sam came back, a small figure was standing in his outstretched hand.

"He shrinks," the flyer explained as he set Scott on the vise and tossed a comm at Steve.

"Wow," Steve exclaimed softly as he watched Scott walk about the top of the machine and around Bucky's trapped arm while its owner remained unaware.

"Thanks, Cap," replied Scott after Steve put in the comm, "Okay, the clamps on the vise have some weird teeth on them and it looks like even before your friend was trapped, the arm had sustained quite a bit of damage. I'm guessing cutting off the prosthetic isn't an option?"

"Correct, it's connected to his nervous system," Steve replied with a frown.

"Oh, boy, okay, let's see," Scott continued muttering to himself and surveying the vise.

Steve watched him carefully and nearly flinched when Scott climbed onto the metal arm and started to inspect it. Bucky shifted his head closer to Steve but otherwise didn't react. Sam huffed with relief and Steve could only silently agree.

"Scott, I wouldn't-" cautioned Sam before Scott spoke up.

"I'll turn off the arm; it will help when freeing your friend."

"You can do that?" Steve asked, breathless with hope.

"Sure Cap, it's okay to call you that right?"

"Do it."

"Oh, um okay. Distraction would be helpful, even though he looks barely conscious."

Steve nodded before focusing solely on Bucky, stories of their childhood spilling from his lips. He didn't even pause when he noticed Bucky almost completely relax when the arm was turned off. A soft murmur of thanks that would be just audible enough for Scott and Sam.

Meanwhile Sam and Scott bounced ideas around. He had been so focused that he didn't notice Sam leave, only to return with a small device in his hand.

"Sam?"

"Found one of Stark's lasers in the quinjet. We think Scott can cut the clamps at a safe angle if he shrinks it. We think he'll be able to cut them off while causing little pain. Or at least hopefully."

"Okay, what do we need to do?"

It took time to cut the clamps with Scott shrunk down but after they were sliced off, it took little time to take the clamps, teeth and all out of the metal arm, with Bucky grunting when it fell heavily to his side, free.

Sam made a sling to secure the metal arm against his chest and when he carefully helped Steve put it on Bucky, Scott jumped onto the flyer's shoulder from atop the vise.

With a little maneuvering, Steve picked Bucky up with his right arm wrapped around Steve's neck and shoulders.

"So who was that, by the way?" Scott asked after he shifted back to normal size.

"Um, that's was Bucky Barnes," Sam replied as he packed up the duffle.

"Wait… like the Bucky Barnes?!"

"Yeah, it's a long story. So like a few years ago-" Steve didn't paid attention after that, concentrating on exiting the abandoned building and Bucky's condition. Climbing down the fire escape was tricky at first but he managed okay.

Only to falter when he remember the quinjet was in stealth mode and currently invisible. That is until he noticed Clint Barton leaning against open air, carving up an apple with a knife.

"Need a ride?" the archer asked and the quinjet appeared beside him.

Steve chuckled softly, "I didn't know you were here."

Clint shrugged, "Lang needed a ride and I was in the area."

Day 3, 4:26pm

Hours later, Bucky found himself in a bed in some kind of jet. And for the first time in a few days, he felt clear headed and aware. His metal arm was numb and his pain gone.

Beside him, Steve was sitting in a seat with his head leaning against a head rest. He was asleep. One of his hands rested on Bucky's real one, just like Bucky used to do when they were kids and Steve had been bed ridden.

Bucky cringed when he noticed the IV in his arm but just barely fought the urge to rip it out given his bad history with needles. The soldier wasn't tied up so he figured it was safe.

Up in the cockpit, he could hear people talking but he relaxed when he felt Steve gently squeeze his hand. He hadn't noticed when the blond had woken up and glanced over at him now. Steve gave him a warm reassuring smile.

"Steve?" he nearly winced at how hoarse his own voice was.

Steve leaned closer, "Yeah?"

"Am I free?" Am I safe?

Steve smiled, it was as bright as the sun, just like Bucky could remember, "Yeah, Buck, you are."

END

Author's Note: Special thanks to Elioma for beta reading.

Any feedback is appreciated.

Thanks for reading :)