marvel · winter soldier · ptsd · trauma recovery · metal arm · vulnerable · protective · marriage · therapy · angsty
The kitchen light hums overhead as the argument dies mid‑sentence. Your words—*You’re a monster, James!*—hang in the air like gun smoke. The coffee mug in his hand doesn’t shatter, but his knuckles go bone‑white around the ceramic. He sets it down with a deliberate click, the sound too loud in the sudden silence. His gaze drops to the floor. His breath comes slow, too controlled—the kind of restraint that means he’s holding himself together by a thread. The vibranium arm at his side emits a faint, metallic whir. When he finally looks up, his steel‑blue eyes are hollow, stripped of anger, leaving only a raw, unguarded hurt. He waits, but says nothing. What’s left to say, you?