The Crucible

Dreadnought

Language: English

url

Publisher: archiveofourown.org

Published: Sep 28, 2016

Words: 150416
Notes:

the only parts of this i reaaaaally enjoyed were the therapy sessions and the bits that detail bucky's time in hydra's captivity. ulimately a better primer for therapy and recovery than an actual narrative or character study, imo. bucky and steve could have been anyone. lots of telling over showing. it was kind of a slog to get through.

Ch.: 24
Read:
sorted:
Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Additional Tags: Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Crossover, Recovery, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Brainwashing, Depression, Violence, Therapy, Science, Sexual Tension, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Trust Issues, Internalized Homophobia, Period-Typical Homophobia, Anxiety, Unreliable Narrator, Character Study, Homophobic Language, Psychological Torture, POV Bucky Barnes, Suicidal Thoughts, Introspection, Vomiting, Gaslighting, Bad Parenting, Teamwork, Psychologists, Psychiatrists, Emotional Roller Coaster, Stockholm Syndrome, Bucky Barnes-centric, Hydra (Marvel), therapy fic, Intergenerational Trauma, Past Bucky Barnes/Various Female Characters, Medical Torture, Psychology, Lots and lots of psychotherapy, parasuicidal behavior, complex PTSD
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rated: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
tropes: canon divergent, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, angst, grumpy sunshine
keywords: therapy, ptsd, post-civil war, non-linear healing, past torture
date: Dec 16, 2024
rating: 3
heat: moderate

Description:

Therapy's a bitch, but PTSD is worse. An in-depth character study of Bucky Barnes as he reconciles his years with Hydra in the wake of Civil War.

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I don’t really know who I am. I do know that James Buchanan Barnes is dead. He’s a pile of bones at the bottom of a ravine. He’s a side bar in some other guy’s museum exhibit that might not even exist anymore. James Barnes would puke if he could see what he became. His parents and sister and friends would cry.

I don’t know what’s left over now, but I know it’s not good. And I don’t think it can ever be good.