Hey, everyone, I'm back! I successfully wrote 50,103 words for NaNoWriMo, giving me a good start to that novel AND establishing a bit of a better writing routine. Hopefully I will be able to stick to it and not only continue giving you all regular updates on this story, but also keep working on that novel. Anyways, the chapter you've been waiting far too long for:

I was woken up only a few hours later, blinking confusedly at my room, disoriented by a voice seemingly coming from everywhere. It took a few seconds, but I finally woke up enough to realize it was FRIDAY. And once I registered what she was saying, I bolted out of my bed—now fully awake—, running barefoot through the halls to get to the elevator so I could go down to the floor with the Avengers' suites, specifically to Uncle Bucky's.

FRIDAY had the elevator waiting for me, the doors wide open, and as she zoomed me down a few levels, my foot tapped restlessly against the tiled floor. When the doors opened to the floor, I broke into a run again, making my way down the main hallway and skidding to a stop in front of the door which led to the section Uncle Bucky used when he stayed over. FRIDAY unlocked the door, and I carefully made my way in, working on slowing my breath so I wasn't a panting disaster when I found my uncle.

I hesitated just before approaching his bedroom, whispering to FRIDAY, "He's dressed decently, right?"

I may want to help him, but I didn't want to get unerasable images in my head while doing so. FRIDAY responded in the affirmative, and I pushed open the door, gasping when I saw the sight inside.

Uncle Bucky was strewn across his bed, the nightlight on the wall giving just enough light to see how incredibly sweaty he was as he tossed and turned roughly in the sheets, groaning and grunting quietly. As I took a cautious step forward, he mumbled something unintelligible, his face screwing up in distress.

FRIDAY had said usually he would wake himself up from his nightmares, but that this one seemed unusually intense—and had been going on for much longer than usual without him waking. He had once instructed FRIDAY that she was never to notify any of the other Avengers, especially Steve, when he was experiencing a nightmare, not wanting them to see him like that.

However, since I had arrived at the tower, Uncle Bucky had not thought to include me on that list, and so FRIDAY was using that loophole to get him some help. FRIDAY was staying on standby in case he lashed out against me and she needed to get help, in which case Steve was the closest.

I slowly eased myself closer to the bed, making an effort to make sure my steps were audible—I did not want his subconscious to think someone was trying to sneak up on him and then treat me as a threat. Once I was a few steps away I paused, starting off with a quiet whisper, "Uncle Bucky?"

He shifted, and made a low pained noise, but that was it. Slightly louder, I called him again. He turned over, yanking at his sheets and whimpering. Pain stirred in my chest, seeing him like this. I hated the thought of my uncle suffering through this so often. A wave of rage washed through me towards Hydra, but I pushed it away since that would not help me help him right now. I called for him again a few times, getting to normal speaking volume, and then slightly louder.

Some part of him could definitely hear me, as he would act up more or react in some small way, but he still didn't wake up. At this point, I was worried I would disturb others if I spoke any louder. Clearly, I needed a new plan of action.

Because of his stupid rules for FRIDAY, and his own self-consciousness on the matter, I had never heard about his nightmares before tonight, and I had definitely never received any sort of indication as to the best way to handle them.

Seeing as trying to wake him up verbally was not working, I figured I would have to try it physically. This was the part FRIDAY had expressed concerns about, not knowing if he would attack me if he was confused from his nightmares. But I had never once felt unsafe around Uncle Bucky—aside from those first few minutes when he was a glaring, angry stranger, and even seeing him restlessly tossing about with a clenched metal fist and a disturbed expression, I couldn't find any fear of him. It was only the cautions from FRIDAY that made me slightly nervous. But I wanted to help him.

I took a deep breath and took several small, and audible, steps toward the bed, talking to my sleeping uncle as I did, "Hi Uncle Bucky, it's just me, Y/N, I'm not a threat, I promise, I just came to check on you, I just want to help. It's only me, it's only Y/N."

I kept speaking as I approached him, repeating myself multiple times. Just as I got next to the bed, he rolled over to the other side. I sighed. I could either walk around the rather large bed and risk him rolling back this way so I had to chase him around all night, or I could just get in the bed with him, limiting his ability to roll away from me—but perhaps increasing the threat he felt.

I decided to opt for the second option, making sure to continue my soothing talking, as I climbed onto the mattress, feeling it dip down slightly beneath my weight. Uncle Bucky stilled for a moment, before beginning to mumble again, his tone sounding distressed. I inched myself a bit further towards him, freezing in place as he rolled back towards me, his one hand flinging out to rest on the pillow next to me, clutching the material tightly. It was his non-metal hand, so I carefully reached out towards him, narrating my actions out loud as I did, and gently rested my palm on the back of his hand. When that got me no reaction, I flipped his hand over and clasped his hand in mine. His fingers gripped around mine, tight enough to hold me captive, but not to hurt me.

I also noticed he had stilled, his breath now coming more even. Feeling slightly more calm about the situation now, the adrenaline pumping through my veins dissipated, making me crash slightly, and I held back a yawn as I contemplated my next move.

Looking at Uncle Bucky, I decided to try once more with a light awakening—and if that didn't work I was going to have to resort to more drastic measurements. I squeezed his hand lightly, once more calling his name, and this time he startled awake, looking about with a lost expression.

"Y/N? What's going on?"

"You were having a nightmare."

He pulled away, sitting up and running his hands worriedly through his hair, "And you came in here!?"

"Shh, people are still sleeping. But yes, I did."

"I could have hurt you!" His voice was quieter, but no less alarmed.

I shrugged, "You wouldn't hurt me."

"You don't know that. I don't know that. You should never have put yourself in that kind of danger… if I'd hurt you, I don't know what I would have done… not to mention what Tony would do to me…"

He paused for a moment, then looked at me confused, "How did you even know I was having a nightmare?"

"Niece intuition?" I suggested, hopeful I wouldn't have to expose FRIDAY's loophole.

He gave me an incredulous look, "Try again."

I sighed, "FRIDAY told me."

His brow furrowed, "Why?"

I shifted to a more comfortable position, "Because you were in distress, and you needed help."

"That's not true."

"You're gonna tell me that was happy times dreamland you were just in? The best most restful sleep of your life?"

He rolled his eyes, "Well, no. But I didn't need help."

I frowned at him "There's nothing wrong with accepting help."

"I'm an ex-assassin, pseudo-Avenger, guy with metal arm. I'm supposed to be strong."

"Ah. So that super serum you got, I see it also amplified your idiocy and manly-man ego."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"No, you don't make sense."

"What?"

"I don't know, it's the middle of the night, were you expecting me to quote Beethoven?"

"The composer?"

"… I meant to use a philosopher, which only proves my point. Anyways. Lack of coherence aside, my point still stands."

He sounded amused when he asked, "And what point was that?"

I exhaled heavily, "The point that you have nightmares," I poked him in the chest, "That they obviously disturb your sleep," I poked him again, "And that no matter what you think, you need help," Another poke, "And getting it does not," Poke, "make you weak," Poke, "It makes you strong." Extra aggressive poke. My finger staying pressed against his chest.

"What I think is that you need to go to bed."

I crossed my arms across my chest and shook my head, "Not until you agree to get help."

"I'm not talking to someone else about my problems. You may not have noticed this, Sunshine, but I don't exactly open up easily to people."

I thought for a moment, grinning up at him when I came across a solution, "Then talk to me."

"Not a chance."

"Why not?"

"You think these nightmares are about monsters under the bed or something? It's all stuff from when I was with Hydra. It's nothing you should ever hear about."

"First off, you weren't 'with Hydra', the Winter Soldier was controlled by those jac— jerks. And I've already heard about how the Winter Solder killed my grandparents, and how you and Steve nearly killed my dad. And you already know that has changed nothing about how I feel about you—and there is nothing else that could possibly be worse than that. If you're concerned about the violence and the gore and stuff… I live with the Avengers. I grew up watching slasher fics and other violent movies. I'll be fine. Now spill."

He stared at me stubbornly before pointing out, "Tony will hate this."

"He doesn't have to know."

"That will make it even worse and you know it."

"I don't really care."

"You're not the one that will face the brunt of it."

"Either talk to me, someone else here you trust, or go to therapy. These are your only options. If you go with talking to me, we can either do our best to keep it a secret, or I can tell Dad and smooth things over with him. Get Pepper or Peter involved if needed. But that would be it."

He sighed, "You won't even tell Steve?"

"Nope." I replied, popping the 'p'.

"Fine, you win then. But can we do it during the day?"

"Yes please."