Looking around nervously, he expected something to happen; something always did. He expected bullets to fly, bombs to explode, and the cries of many of his comrades dying whilst trying to protect each other. It made him uncomfortable that he had managed to come back, but not his buddies. It was like he had been spared-- At the great cost of someone else laying down their lives. Chewing on the inside of his lip, he looked around the Doctor's office again, trying to assess any and all possible enemy and target.<br/><br/>Muscle memory told him that he should have his Pistol, or his Semi-Automatic rifle slung around his shoulder in the ready to shoot stance. Nate didn't like this at all. He had only been home a couple of months, and in that short time span, he still thought that he was living inside the War Zones. It was hard for him to get to sleep as he would wake  himself up with horrible nightmares. More often than not, he would wake with a start, breathing hard or when the nightmares were particularly bad screaming.<br/><br/>It was always his Wife's comforting gestures that calmed him down, but not after a few terror induced bruises and marks. He would always apologize profusely after any incident, but they kept getting worse. One time, he had even punched his wife in the face after he went into a blind rage and lashed out at anything that moved. That was the real reason why he had chosen to get some help from this Quack.<br/><br/>Standing at 6'2", Nate wasn't a small guy. Weighing roughly 185 lbs of nearly pure muscle, he wasn't exactly weak either. Working out was one of the few things that he could do to help manage the PTSD on his own, but it only got him so far. Reaching up, he scratched his week old scruff, trying to get just the right spot so that it would stop itching. Having satisfied his desire to itch, he grabbed his long, slightly greasy brown hair into a rough ponytail and shook his head to get the rest of the hair out of his face.<br/><br/>Finally, the doctor had walked up, and instantly, he could feel his eyes on his Wife. Gritting his teeth, his knuckles turned whiter, which gave a nice sharp contrast against his levi jeans. After the Doctor had said his piece, he walked off to do whatever Doctors needed to do to prepare for their next patient(s). When the Doctor next came out, Nathan stood up and walked stiffly into his office and sat down.<br/><br/>Crossing his hands over his chest, he sulked in the corner of the office, preferring to let his wife do the talking for the time being.