Prologue

5 AM.

Bucky's eyes shot open with the speed of a bullet as he heard his alarm screaming at him in its shrill tone to wake up. He let out a little groan as he turned onto his other side to reach the cabinet his phone lay upon, and made a small swipe on its screen to shut it up. He lay there for a moment, allowing his eyes to calibrate and get used to the light of dawn which flooded his bijou, albeit comfortable room.

He absolutely adored his job. The people. The stories.. but especially the animals. Bucky was known as one of the most trusted vets in the town he resided within in Brooklyn, if not the most trusted. He always carried a smile on his face, which always lit up the room like sunshine, and was always brilliant with animals- including ones who were 'not great with vets'. He always knew how to reassure nervous pets, and he was great at his job. Of course, there were days where sometimes he could not help somebody's furry companion, and he would have to euthanise them (which was something which always deeply hurt him), but that was just a part of life, and a part of being a vet. He just learned to accept this.

He rolled out of bed and allowed himself to get ready, such as putting his veterinary uniform on, sorting his hair out, brushing his teeth, and so on, and was out of the door by 6, heading to the vet clinic in his car.--------------------------------------------------------------7 PM.

It had been a long, somewhat tiring day at work for Bucky. Saying that, it was a Monday. All Mondays were bad, for some reason. He made sure everything was in its place and was sanitised, then grabbed his bag and left. He was just about to get into his car and head home, when he heard a sharp yelp from a dog on the road right next to the vet clinic, followed by a human scream which almost instantly cracked.

He instantly put the car keys that were in his hand back into his pocket, then met the person halfway across the road, who was assumedly the owner.

He must've been no older than Bucky, so likely around 23 years old. He was a little taller, and his skin was the same shade as the pine trees of the forest. Although his eyes were glazed with tears, he could see they were also a similar shade, and had a warm, approachable look to them. He also clearly seemed to take care of himself, as he was rather muscular and slim.

The man held the dog in his arms, and rushed over to Bucky, having instantly realised that he was a vet (due to his uniform) and that he could help. He was trying to explain the situation, though was in such a state of panic over seeing this dog in this state that he could not form any sort of coherent sentence. It also didn't help that tears poured down his eyes, asphyxiating him.

Bucky led the man over to the clinic hastily, and unlocked the doors so he could assess the damage to this pet.

Today was going to be a slightly longer day than he expected.