I'm Not Faust (But It Was Still A Bad Idea)

Outside Munich, Germany, 1944

A siren echoed through the crisp night air from Munich, but they came too late. The damage had already been done and there was no way to fix it. The Axis and Allied Powers had seen fit to engage in a battle in the skies over Munich, Germany because of it's location and importance to the German army. Munich, a large city near the Alps was not only home to the Luftwaffe, but also to many manufacturing plants that were crucial to Hitler's armies. However, built into the side of the Alps mountain range outside of Munich was a base of operations to Hitler's side project dubbed Hydra.

Sergeant James Barnes of the 107th, best friend of Steve Rogers aka Captain America, had been rescued from another Hydra fortress some time before; he had since made it his duty to fight beside Steve as he attempted to take out as many other bases as possible. James, better known as Bucky, was part of a group of men called the Howling Commandos, a group he was proud to call himself a member of because of their cause: to rescue any and all prisoners of Hydra and eliminate the threat of the operation.

Even with this pride, Sergeant Barnes couldn't rationalize the needless death he had just witnessed. He enlisted in the US Army as soon as he turned 18 and had worked hard to earn his rank before he had been shipped across the sea to fight against the Axis powers when he had been stationed in Germany. But this - this was something he couldn't seem to wrap his head around. He had witnessed death and destruction during his service, it was an effect of war, but what he had witnessed hours before was not something he would ever be okay with.

Logically, he knew that Captain America was a figurehead for troops to rally around and to boost morale wherever he went. This made him important to the cause but didn't necessarily mean he was any more important than any other soldier serving under Old Glory. Right now, however, logic wasn't at the forefront of Bucky's thought process. Right now, the only thing Bucky could think of is why they had received no warning about the incoming planes or the bombs dropping onto anything important to the German Army. He still wasn't positive if their caravan hadn't been noticed, or if it had been mislabeled as an instrument of the Axis Powers, or if they were deemed a threat by their own allies.

In the end, he decided, it didn't matter. No matter the cause of the destruction, the consequences won't change. He would still have to witness his best friend fly off the side of a treacherous mountain road. Bucky hoped he was okay; but knew in his gut that serum or no, Steve had not survived his fall.

He paced back and forth outside of the camp on his watch. He could see the fire in the middle of their makeshift camp every time he turned to march back the way he had come. Several times he took out a folded picture of himself and Steve when they were boys. The photo was battered but it was the only thing he had left of his best friend.

Slowly, the hour got later and later and the fire dimmed until just the coals at the bottom of the pit were visible. The later the hour got, the more he knew there was no point in watching for Steve to come back. In a fit of anger her threw the old photo to the ground and tried to bury it with the heel of his boot. The cloud cover blocked out what little light the stars would have given off on an otherwise moonless night. The roads out this far away from Munich were quiet at such a late hour wasn't surprising but it was causing the fine hairs at Bucky's hairline to raise as though he were being watched.

He sighed heavily and shook his head before he turned away from their camp to continue his pacing only to almost collide with a woman. Not just any woman, he noted after a few disorienting seconds where he was sure her eyes were as red as her hair, but once he was able to refocus he realized it had only been a trick of the light. (What light? a traitorous part of his mind supplied unhelpfully.)

"Well, hello soldier," she purred in a slightly accented voice. She was taller than most women Bucky knew; even when she was barefooted they stood almost eye to eye. She was wearing a soft looking white dress that flowed around her knees even though she was still and there hadn't been any wind in hours. "You look like you're looking for something."

Bucky choked on a laugh. Something? Ha! "Do you need something, miss?" he asked trying to remember his manners in the presence of a lady, especially one who gave him the shivers and not the kind pretty girls normally gave him.

She laughed, an eerie but melodic sound that seemed to resonate through Bucky's entire body. "No," she answered with another laugh. "But you do." She took a few quick steps so that she was right up in Bucky's space and placed her small hand on his chest. "I can feel it here" she continued and from this close, Bucky could smell something faintly resembled rotten eggs.

"Well, yeah," Bucky answered feeling like he was missing some key part of their interaction. "But it's not something anyone can do anything about, miss. Now, can I help you find your way anywhere?"

She smiled. It wasn't pleasant. She looked like a cat who had eaten the canary and washed it down with the cream. It was a dangerous curl of plush, red lips. She circled him slowly, as if she were appraising a new car. "I've seen inside your heart, Bucky. I know what you want."

Bucky, who had been attempting to follow her while she circled him so that she stayed in his line of sight (she was dangerous and it was instinct to try to keep her in front of him). "How did you know my name?"

She didn't answer, but her smile grew infinitesimally larger. "That doesn't matter, soldier. What matters is that I can give you what you want."

It was a cool evening in late April, but Bucky could feel his body temperature drop several degrees regardless of the heavy jacket he wore over his uniform, and his throat clicked as he tried to swallow around a sudden lump. This woman wasn't human; he could feel it down in the same place in him where he knew that Steve was dead. She may have once been human, judging by the fact that she looked like a woman in her early twenties, but there was no way that she retained any bit of humanity in her. He took a deep breath before he asked the question he already knew the answer to. "In exchange for what?"

She rocked from the balls of her feet back to her heels in a move that seemed too juvenile to come from someone who's eyes seemed ancient and otherworldly. "Nothing you'll miss," she answered smoothly. "And even if you did, isn't it worth it for the good Captain?"

"So my soul for Steve? How do I know you'll keep your end of the deal?"

Her eyes flared crimson and she squared her shoulders as if she was preparing for a fight. "Done," she said simply with a vague gesture towards the eastern edge of camp. "Now seal the deal or Captain Rogers will never reach camp. I'll send him right back to where he fell and you'll have to live with the knowledge that you let your best friend die again."

Bucky stopped himself from reaching out and throttling her; even though she was obviously not a human, she was still a woman and his mother would rise from her grave and smack him upside the head if he even so much as twitched in the direction of a young lady with intent to injure. "You don't have to manipulate me. I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to stiff me before you steal my soul."

"Steal?" she hissed, sounding insulted. "We're making a deal. That means you're willingly trading it for my services."

He heaved a sigh and glanced once more across the camp to where she had pointed. Steve would kill him if he ever found out what happened and he didn't know if he would be able to look at him without confessing; but he couldn't handle not seeing Steve one more time to make sure the chucklehead would be okay.

"Going once. Going twice," she taunted with a wicked look on her beautiful face.

"Wait! Just let me say goodbye!"

She jerked to a halt, her toes landing back on the ground with a soft thud. "I may be a demon, but I do have some sympathy. You'll have plenty of time to see him and settle your affairs before I come to collect what's mine."

Bucky didn't think that sounded like he was getting much time at all but any chance to say good-bye was something he couldn't turn away. He nodded his consent. "Alright, let's get this show on the road."

She adjusted her posture and rested her hand on his shoulder to balance herself in her new position. "It only takes a kiss," she whispered. Up close Bucky was able to finally figure out what exactly the rotten egg smell was; now that he knew she was a demon he understood that the smell was sulfur. It wasn't nearly as potent as he expected but it was still unpleasant. "Pucker up, soldier."

The kiss wasn't nearly as filthy as he was expecting from a demon. He didn't know much about any paranormal history or even Christian lore, but he knew enough to know that demons weren't to be trusted or known for being particularly virtuous. That knowledge aside, this kiss was rather chaste as if she could sense his reluctance to kiss someone he didn't know. He had kissed his fair share of dames in his time, but he had always formed some kind of emotional attachment to them before kissing any of them. Regardless of any misconceptions he had about demons, the kiss was done and the deal was sealed. "Your friend should show up in a few minutes. You had better be ready to greet him. Time is ticking."

She turned as if to walk away before simply vanishing into thin air. He could hear the cheers and shouts from the camp as Steve crested the low hill and came into view of those who were still awake regardless of the late hour.