Chapter 7: Touchdown~

Sherlock feels his stomach vibrating with the pain of legions of hornets. Oh, how he could kick himself when his calculations failed to factor in random variables, even though randomness is not truly logical to factor!

John feels like he's breathing through a syringe, when his feet hit the gravel packed ice.

He can't believe who's before his eyes. He simply cannot process this.

The old CB radio was wired, and its old veins were warmed with electricity again, but the message never left Bucky's lips. All the air was snatched out of him, the moment he looked up to see his oldest friend coming down the road to this remote village on the way to Kiev. How was this even possible? It wasn't supposed to happen!

Steve felt like he was frozen all over again. Frozen where he couldn't move, could barely breathe. All he could do was try to get straight in his head everything his eyes were showing him, and the events of the last few hours.

In the last few hours he had boarded a directed by SHIELD flight, heading God only knew where, in the company of Doctor Watson. He had set out with the understanding that he was searching for Bucky, who had lived through his fall after all, and had been forced to work for HYDRA for the last 70 years, as the assassin known as Winter Soldier. He was to understand that Sherlock Holmes could help him find Buck, and that Sherlock Holmes was also MIA, and that John Watson might be able to help him find him, and would have the skills to help both Sherlock and Bucky through recovery. A few hours into the flight he knew that they were heading for Ukraine, which was where Fury's trail for Holmes had gone cold. Bucky had completely disappeared from even Fury and Company's radar, and so, dare they say, they would actually have better chances finding the Consulting Detective.

What Steve was having a hard time processing was how it had been so easy to find the two of them. It had happened as if by Divine Providence. And they had found both of them, in an ancient shack in a village on the way to Kiev, where a radio from the War was located. Which meant that the two had teamed up.

Bucky shook his head, and stood upright, backing up, and backing up straight into Sherlock's chest. Sherlock was looking Steve up and down, rapidly deducing him, trying to solve without having to ask questions how Captain Roger's had located him, and further who had sent him. He was avoiding looking at John, and it was probably because John was staring at him witheringly, trying to demand explanations, but not being able to force words out of his throat.

Steve was just staring at Bucky. He hadn't seen him in the flesh for so long, he'd almost forgotten what he looked like. He was also horrified to see the metallic arm. Besides that, Buck didn't look well. He was wearing a roughed up leather jacket, and jeans that looked like they'd been put through a sand blaster. He had on a ratty green t-shirt, and over all a baseball cap with a faded brim. He was sporting the beginnings of a beard, and this somewhat hid how pale, almost blue he was in the face and around the lips. He was also probably 30 pounds underweight.

"How...?" Bucky began to ask.

"Oh, well that's not a question that is necessary for you to pose, Sergeant. It's too obvious; Nick Fury is behind this. He must have shown you my file, John?" Sherlock snapped, almost indignant that they had found them, only because they were now in grave danger too.

John did something that surprised everyone then. He shouted an explicit name at Sherlock, and then dove for him and threw his arms around him, clinging to him for dear life.

Steve didn't even look over at them. He very cautiously approached Bucky, stretching out a hand.

"Who... is Nick Fury?" Bucky whispered, confused, a brow raised, just as surprised to see Steve, as Steve was to see him.

"Never mind how I found you..." Steve gasped, and clapped a hand on Bucky's shoulder, coming a little closer and wrapping the other arm around his shoulders.

"Are…are you ok?"

Bucky smiled, mischievously.

"Been a long time, and no see, eh, Steve?" he laughed, and reached both the flesh and the metal arm around Steve's shoulders.

"Are you ok?..."Steve asked again, still shell shocked , talking to Bucky, and hugging him after roughly 70 years.

"It's been hell…Also, I've rebelled against HYDRA, me and the kid...and the bosses are coming to kill us...It's...bad… You two really are in danger coming to find us, we were just about to radio Mycroft Holmes and warn against it..."

"You...you look sick..."

There was silence.

"I am sick, Steve…"

Sherlock held John as close as he could, and tucked a hand in his ruffled golden hair.

"Captain Rogers…" Sherlock called, over John's shoulders..." I believe if you and John are to join company with us...we'll have to go into hiding ...There is a lot to explain...but basically the Sergeant and I have gotten ourselves sentenced to a very creative death...and the lot of us are now looking death in the eyes."