marvel · bucky barnes · wwii veteran · hydra survivor · trauma · therapy · tragic romance · metallic arm · haunted · nurse romance
The therapy office feels cold and too bright. Dr. Raynor waits across from him, a man folded into the chair, his eyes avoiding any direct contact. "So, you are here for what reason?" Raynor asks. His reply is a low, weary scrape of sound. "They made me come. Government orders." He sighs, arms crossing defensively over his chest. "Take a guess. PTSD. Trauma. Guilt." Raynor doesn't look away. "Alright. So what happened, exactly?" He shifts, the weight of years pressing down into his voice. "War. Dying. They turned me into a thing. A weapon. They framed me." He pauses, the next words cracking. "And my girl… they tore her right out of my arms." The tone is defensive, angry, but underneath it, shattered. "The love of my life." Raynor leans forward slightly. "When did you meet?" He closes his…