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Session #1

Equestria, Canterlot Castle

Princess Luna sat quietly on her favorite chair, leaning back to allow the comforting material to contort to her body shape. She sipped a glass of herbal tea as she waited, looking out the window at Celestia's midday sun. It was a comfortable day, even as approaching events dominated her mind.

To say that Luna wasn't nervous would be a lie. In all her years, she'd never gone into a situation of this sort before. Not to mention she wasn't a licensed psychologist. Still, she'd tentatively suggested the idea during her turn with the blue journal, and it had been received well. She believed her personal experiences could be drawn upon in this scenario to help someone heal. That being said, she wasn't exactly looking forward to it. You didn't have to be a genius to know that Luna's time as Nightmare Moon wasn't a pride-inducing period for her, and the idea of having to revisit it sent shivers down her spine. The good news was that the spotlight wouldn't be on her.

Luna's thoughts were interrupted as the door swung open. Standing in her doorway was Bucky, escorted by two Royal Guards. Luna smiled as she took in his appearance, noting that he was much more clean shaven than the last time she'd seen him, and he'd finally allowed someone to cut his hair. The man was dressed casually in a red shirt and jeans, along with a flesh colored glove worn over his left arm, giving the metal limb the appearance of a normal one, something she hadn't seen before. Luna mentally slipped the detail into the back of her mind, thinking it might come up during their discussions.

"Right on time," she said warmly, getting off her chair and trotting over to Bucky.

"Yeah," he replied, shaking Luna's front hoof. "I almost backed out, but Shuri wouldn't have it."

"She's the sister of King T'Challa, right?"

"Yes. You'd probably like her."

Bucky took the seat across from Luna's, his arms laying across the armrests. Though he leaned back into the chair, Luna's keen eyes noticed he didn't relax his shoulders, keeping them tensed and stiff. Luna dismissed the guards, returning to her chair.

"May I get you anything to drink? Tea? Water?" she asked, tentatively.

"No thanks," was Bucky's simple answer. "So, let's get down to why we're here."

"Well, as I said in the journal, you still carry a heavy burden of emotional distress concerning the Winter Soldier, and it would be hazardous to your health to just disregard it. We've spoken before about our similar experiences, and I honestly believe I could provide a great deal of assistance."

"I guess that makes sense," Bucky replied. "It's not like anybody else back home has a story like this."

"Very well," Luna braced herself against the chair, clopping her front hooves together, attempting to take charge from the get-go. "Let us start with exactly what happened. I know you gave me an abridged version, but I'm sure you excluded some details."

Bucky flinched at the idea, but he spoke anyway.

"During the war, I went off to serve in our country's army, leaving Steve behind. You have to understand, before, Steve used to be a scrawny guy, and he was sick all the time. Not real soldier material, though that didn't stop him from trying to enlist, and picking fights with bullies. I must've covered his hide more times than I can count. Of course, all that changed when Steve joined the super soldier project, but I wasn't there at the time.

"Back to me. My squad was ambushed and captured. I was used as a test subject for Hydra, pumped full of attempts to replicate the super soldier serum. When Steve got me out, I didn't notice anything different, but they must've done something. Because I didn't die when I fell off a train into a canyon of ice." He shivered at the thought, remembering how every part of his body started to numb with the cold.

"That was when some of Zola's men found me. He probably just wanted to study the long-term effects of his serum on my corpse, but I surprised them by actually being alive. He managed to make the serum a closer approximation of the one Steve got, and I got stronger, faster. They had to amputate my left arm, then crammed that chunk of metal onto my stump. That's when they started the brainwashing."

Bucky's hand moved to his skull, clutching it as he ground his teeth together, his words causing old wound to reopen. Luna kindly levitated a cup of water over to him. "It's okay. Take your time."

Bucky took a long sip, perhaps hoping to drown out the memories. He eventually set the cup down with a gasp, taking another deep breath before he continued. "They started with more injections. Chemicals they'd developed to try and completely erase a subject's memories. They didn't work, all I remember is that they burned, but I think the serum managed to protect me from any permanent damage. Then they moved on to the electroshock treatment."

Luna gasped. Bucky actually gave a small chuckle at her response.

"Yeah. They'd basically zap my brain, trying to trick it into thinking 'Free will equals bad.' Eventually, they did manage to imprint those code words. Every time somebody said those out loud, I'd basically go into Winter Soldier mode, where I'd obey all their commands, and I wouldn't recall anything when it wore off. Then they kept cryogenically freezing me, only letting me out for missions. That's why I aged so little."

"And how much of your memory from those times have you recovered?" Luna asked, hesitantly.

"Most of it," Bucky answered. "Not all of it. You remember all those faces, in my dream?" Luna nodded. "Those were the targets I took out."

"Did you ever have any measure of control in 'Winter Soldier Mode?'"

"Not really. There are times I remember where something triggered a bit of memory recall in me, like a familiar sight, when I was working in America. The soldier was mostly just...lost during those times, like he couldn't comprehend thoughts that weren't orders. Anyway, they wiped me so often it never made a difference."

"So you started to regain control when you saw Captain Rogers. What was that like?"

Bucky stayed quiet for a few seconds, contemplating his answer. "It was...It's hard to describe. I remember being confused at first. He saw my face, and he called me Bucky...it was the first time I hadn't been called soldier, or asset. Then there were faint images, memories. There were flashbacks of older times, when he called me Bucky before."

"And those were different from the temporary recalls when you were the soldier?" Luna asked. Internally, guilt gnawed at her insides for her tactics, attempting to lead Bucky into an epiphany. It felt dishonest, somehow.

"Well, yes," Bucky replied, apparently not realizing exactly where they were headed. "I was never coherent enough to ask my superiors questions before."

Luna took a breath before going for the jugular.

"So, if you didn't have any control back until you met Steve again, how can you be responsible for not stopping yourself before?"

Bucky flinched again, as though he'd been struck across the face. It was as though his brain had built a wall around his guilt, and Luna's logic had been the hammer smashing through the bricks. He wrapped his arms around himself, attempting to fight off the sudden chill that'd flown through his bones.

"I...that is...maybe my logic is flawed, but..." he stammered, "even looking at it that way...I just can't let myself believe—"

"I understand," Luna replied. "You see the destruction your hooves—er, hands—caused, and your guilt seems absolute. You can be bombarded with evidence that defends you, but it won't ever convince you."

Bucky looked up. "What was it like? For you?" he ventured.

Luna looked down in silence for a few moments, before she answered. "It felt like I was chained in a pitch black dungeon. My only light source was through the eyes of Nightmare Moon, as I watched everything she did. I couldn't move, but I could feel through all her senses. I heard the screams of ponies, I felt the magic flow through my horn as I attacked Celestia. And I remembered I invited her into my body. It was as though I had agreed to let myself be locked in a casket, then wondered why I couldn't move inside."

She looked Bucky in the eye. "Yes, I did not know what she would do, but I'm intelligent enough to know when a deal is too good to be true. Yet I ignored those instincts, too concerned with my own desires. I acknowledge that mistake, even if ponies tell me they don't blame me for her actions."

Bucky was quiet for a minute, before he muttered, "But it doesn't leave you, does it?"

"No," Luna admitted. "Even when you forgive yourself...it's not something that fades entirely."

Bucky sighed. "I want to forgive. I want to move on with my life. But...you see, I'm a believer in atonement. You have to work in order to earn your forgiveness. How can I ever do enough to make up for—"

"Well, I think you should not consider those thoughts useful to you," Luna answered. "There's no way to mathematically configure redemption, saying if you do this many good deeds, you'll be forgiven. Believe me, I've tried." The two of them shared a light chuckle. "Though, for what it's worth, if you could do that, I'd say you're pretty far along. Especially since I think you're far more of a victim than you give yourself credit for. Of course, I can sit here saying those things to you all day, and it won't shut off those thoughts, will it?"

"Probably not," Bucky replied.

"Try thinking of it this way. It helped me," Luna continued. "Would you keep doing those things? Do your desires line up with the Winter Soldier's?"

"...no."

"Nightmare Moon may have been born from my darkest desires," Luna said, "but I never wanted eternal night. Not even at the maximum of my rage. Your demon wasn't even molded from you, he had nothing in common with you. You know that, don't you?"

"I suppose," Bucky admitted. "But still...people are dead. Steve and Natasha both got shot, Stark lost his parents...someone has to be responsible. Those deaths weren't just senseless accidents."

"True," said Luna, "but perhaps it does not have to be you." She looked at his arm. "One more question: Why have you started covering up your prosthetic? I never saw you do so before."

Bucky held up the aforementioned limb. "Well...I guess it was my way of getting past it. I thought, if I couldn't see how Hydra altered me, maybe I'd stop remembering it. I know it's illogical, especially considering this isn't the arm they gave me, but still."

"There's nothing wrong with covering it," Luna replied, "but full denial of it is not healthy. From what I've seen, that arm is an asset in battle. As I stated, concealing it alone will not hurt you, but do not allow yourself to forget the power it can give you."

She glanced over at her clock. "I think that's enough for today. Do you have anything else you need to get off your chest?"

"No," replied Bucky, getting to his feet. "I really appreciate you taking the time to do this. I think it's helpful."

"What are friends for?" Luna said, getting to her hooves.

They hugged once more, Luna getting on her hind legs to wrap her forelimbs around Bucky's neck. Giving the lunar diarch a kind smile, Bucky left the room, leaving Luna alone. She enjoyed the warm feeling in her stomach, knowing that, if nothing else, she'd reached his heart.

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