"It's fine, baby," she tells him weakly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before reaching up to sweep a chunk of dark hair back behind his ear. He gives her a small, uncertain smile as her hand falls to cup his cheek. "I promise."

Bucky shifts in his seat, his hunched shoulders slumping even further as he leans his elbows onto the edge of Tessa's bed. Without dropping eye contact, he wraps his metal fingers around her hand and slides her palm down to his lips so he can kiss it tenderly. "I know," he says, his voice deep and thick and… entirely unconvincing. She gives him a skeptical look and he responds by winking mischievously and blowing a thick, wet raspberry into her palm.

She wrinkles her face in disgust, but doesn't pull away. A small laugh escapes her when she lets out the grumbled, "Ewww." Though she immediately regrets it when a sharp pain pulls from her side. "Don't make me laugh," she whines, finally pulling her hand from his.

"I'm sorry," he tells her, light smile dancing on his lips. He reaches over and trails the fingertips of his right hand over her warm forehead, his face falling when he reaches the still-sickly looking bruise. "You'll be okay," he says, his eyes fixed on the mark. "It'll be fine," he breathes out, a reassurance meant mostly for himself.

"Who needs two kidneys anyway?" she asks, the sound of her voice, pulling his gaze back to hers. "I mean…" She cocks a single brow at him. "This is why God gave me a spare."

"In case of a motorcycle accident?" He gives her an incredulous, though amused look. She simply shrugs before dropping her head back to the pillow behind her and shifting with an uncomfortable groan. "Stop it," he tells her, raising a warning eyebrow.

She gazes at him with a pitiful pout for a long moment before asking, "Did you talk to Steve?"

He leans back into the chair with a sigh and pulls to the side to crack his back. "Nope," he says simply. "He texted this morning to say that he and Romanov were headed out for the day to do some recon. Not sure what for."

That text came in about an hour before the doctor returned with all of Tessa's test results. The injury to her kidney had resulted in an abscess, hence the rather sudden fever. Bucky may not have really known what that meant at the time, but he still found himself letting out a sharp breath of relief at the news that the infection wasn't in her leg.

That relief was short lived.

There were other…complications. "Her blood pressure has been steadily rising over the last 24 hours," the doctor – a new doctor, if you can believe that – had told them. And the icing on the cake – delayed hemorrhaging. "We could go in and try to embolize again," he'd said. "But the abscess also looks to be severe enough that we'll have to surgically drain it."

"And you can't do that?" Bucky had asked, forehead furrowed in confusion.

Tessa's fingers wrapped tightly around his as she explained, "The embolization obviously didn't fix everything the first time. Doing it again might just be a waste of time. And if it is, and we end up doing a nephrectomy anyway… why bother putting me through the surgery to drain the abscess." She looked over to the doctor. "Right?"

He had nodded before stating, with a sort of sympathetic authority, "I believe the best option is to remove the kidney."

Tessa had agreed, nodding along with the assessment after inquiring about some additional test results that Bucky was clueless to. She made the decision without a second thought, it seemed. Losing one of her organs, undergoing yet another invasive surgery, didn't seem to phase her at all. Though Bucky knew that wasn't the case. He could see the hesitation in her eyes, even if the rest of her face betrayed nothing. He knew that she was just being strong for him. And he hated it.

He gazes over at her now and almost laughs at the exaggerated frown on her face. "I wanted him to be here for you," she says, her tone carrying so much concern – for him – that it makes his stomach twist.

He shakes his head and huffs out an annoyed breath. "I don't need Steve here to babysit me while you're in surgery. I can handle sitting in a waiting room without him."

Her eyes flick over to the open door of her room. "You might reconsider that," she says in a low voice, an amused glint to her otherwise dull eyes. "Depending on the company in that room."

He twists around and sees Stark looming in the doorway.

"I'm beginning to think you might stand me up at the groundbreaking," Tony says blithely. "I get you the best room in the house," he mutters, sauntering in and motioning about the space, "and you decide you don't want to leave."

Bucky shoves backward, scooting the chair away from the bed so he can rise. He says nothing to Tony, and Tony says nothing to him.

"Room service isn't bad," Tessa quips with a small shrug. "I thought you were going to Sri Lanka?"

He purses his lips and shakes his head firmly. "Canceled it."

Her eyes widen, brows shooting up. "For me?"

He scoffs. "You think an awful lot of yourself, don't you?" She responds with a soft, affirmative hum, which pulls a genuine, if small, smile from him. He ducks his face to hide the grin briefly, then he looks back up at her and says, in a well-rehearsed tone, "A matter of extreme importance came up."

She feels a slight blush creep into her cheeks as a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

"I'm gonna grab a coffee," Bucky issues out with a yawn. He leans over Tessa and drops a quick kiss to her lips before whispering to her, "Just hit the call button when he gets to be too much." She smiles at him, shaking her head as he traipses out of the room without so much as a nod to the man at the foot of her bed.

Tony shoots her a smirk, his hands nervously working the rail on the footboard. "What are you doing here, kid?" he sighs.

"I didn't want to ask for more vacation," she tells him her glassy eyes shining with mirth. "Seemed like this was the only way to get some time off."

He sidles down the length of the bed to stand at her side. "Now I know you're lying. Time off?" He scoffs loudly. "Frankly, I'm surprised you haven't already gone in and cut the kidney out yourself… speed things up a bit so you could get back to work sooner."

"I was having trouble keeping the scalpel steady," she mutters, holding out her hand to demonstrate the slight tremor. "Guess I shouldn't operate on morphine."

"Always with the jokes," he chuckles, his smile tight and forced. He grips the edge of her bed and leans away, fidgeting and averting his eyes while rolling them at the same time.

She lays her hand atop his. "Where would I have learned that?"

He shakes his head and sighs dramatically as his hand twists around, his fingers turning to pull hers into his grasp. "Pretty sure you mastered that long before we met, buttercup." He brings his gaze back down to her face. "How are you? Really?"

"Really?" she asks, raising her eyebrows as she considers her answer. "Really, I feel like shit."

He nods slowly. "Yeah, that makes sense. You look like shit."

She lets out a small laugh, almost a snort, before settling back and saying, "I'm really sorry about the groundbreaking."

He pulls his hand from hers and waves it dismissively. "That? Nah, that's nothing." He turns and begins to pace the room. "Pomp and circumstance. It's all just… a big show. Breaking a champagne bottle on the helm."

"I didn't know there was going to be champagne," she jokes lightly.

He turns to her, serious look on his face. "There is always champagne."

She laughs again, this time deeper, and it brings on another dull ache. "I thought I asked Bruce to bring in my laptop… the one with the resumes and notes about potential hires. I know I haven't made any decisions yet…"

"Yeah," he interrupts quickly, spinning around to gaze out the window. The city is covered in a gray fog, misting rain lightly peppering the glass as he stares out it. "No. I told him not to."

She shifts, struggling against the pillows in an attempt to sit upright. "You told him not to," she repeats, confusion lacing the words. "What do you mean?"

He glances at her reflection in the window, the strong set of her shoulders, the stern placement of her jaw. He sighs, dropping his gaze down to his shoes. "I'm going through them now… the candidates. I have your notes. Happy completed all of the background checks. I got your assistant – the good one," he spins around to face her. "What's her name?"

She cocks a single suspicious eyebrow at him. "Claire?"

"Claire," he repeats with a quick snap of his fingers. "I'm having her call references."

"Tony," she breathes out, tone warning.

"I won't make any decisions without clearing it with you first," he tells her. "Even though, really… well I am the boss."

"Tony," she tries again.

"I'd put everything on hold if I could," he says, looking into her eyes solemnly. "If I could… I'd push back the groundbreaking, mess with the schedule…"

"Tony…"

"I just…" His expression is pained, guilty even, when he says, "I can't."

"Tony, I… I wouldn't want you to push things back."

He shakes his head absently, averting his eyes once again. "No. No, this is your baby. You should be there."

She's silent for a moment, thinking about how much she actually really does want to be there… for the groundbreaking, and the final interviews, and the planning committee meetings. Okay, maybe not the planning meetings. But she does desperately want to be part of… everything else that goes into that new lab. Her lab. "I'm sorry," she mumbles.

He looks back up at her. "Well… I expect you to be back as soon as possible," he says, a darkness to his countenance. He knows it'll be weeks at least, maybe months, before she'll be back at work. And as much as he has every intention of holding this job for her, right now, he's really struggling with figuring out just how he's going to do that.

"As soon as possible," she repeats with an affirmative nod. She locks eyes with him and says, in the same reassuring tone she'd used with Bucky just moments before, "I promise."

000

They leave the mansion in silence. Walk to the car in silence. Get in, buckle up, and maneuver down the long drive in silence. It isn't until they're almost to the freeway, in fact, that any words are shared between the two of them. And those words are perhaps the most uncharacteristic words to come out of Steve Rogers' mouth. Ever. "Shit. Fuck."

Natasha seamlessly merges onto the highway before raising her eyebrows and turning away from the road to direct a questioning glance his way. He has his cell pressed to his ear, the fingers of his other hand harshly pinching the bridge of his nose as he slowly shakes his head. "What?" she asks when he doesn't look up.

He pulls the phone away from his face and quickly hits redial, turns to her as it begins to ring in his ear. "It was a kidney infection," he say solemnly, briefly relaying the info from Bucky's voicemail. "And there was still some bleeding. So they're removing it. Her kidney."

Natasha's mouth drops as her gaze returns to the road ahead. "What?" she ekes out. "I thought it was… better."

Bucky answers the phone before Steve can respond. "Hey," he says upon hearing the weary Hello on the other end. "What happened? What's going on?"

He tells Steve all about the conversation with the new doctor, the decision to remove the kidney, the fact that Tessa seemed totally with it and in control when she agreed that it was a good plan. And he tells him that they took her away nearly an hour ago and left him alone in a room with Tony Stark. "He's just sitting there," he says. "Being calm and quiet. It's really freaking me out."

"Does everyone else know what's going on?" Steve asks, feeling suddenly, almost inconceivably guilty for being among the last to know.

"Yeah," he breathes out. "I called Sam when she went in. He's handing things with the new guys… him and Wanda, I guess. So I told him I'd keep them updated." There's another pang of guilt at realizing that, not only are he and Natasha not there at the hospital, but Sam and Wanda can't be either because someone has to be in charge back at the compound. "And Barton called a while ago and said he was heading in."

Steve nods almost to himself. "Yeah, I asked if he'd come back to the compound for a bit while you're out. Felt bad doing it," he says with a sigh, "pulling him away from his family…"

"He said Laura was pissed he didn't leave sooner when she found out what happened," Bucky says with a small chuckle.

There's a long beat of silence as Steve thinks on what to say. "Well," he starts, shaking his head regretfully. "We'll be back soon."

"Where'd you go?" Bucky asks, a genuine interest in his tone.

He can't honestly say that he's never lied to Bucky. But he sure as hell tries not to. Being in the military, and being part of a top-secret military project, he's learned a thing or two about compartmentalization, about keeping certain things on a need-to-know basis. But if there's one person in his life whom he's always tried to be transparent with, it's Bucky. Which is probably why he feels actually, physically ill when he says to him, "We were just running some leads on Rumlow."

The suspicious side-eye glare from Natasha does not go unnoticed as he and Bucky say their goodbyes. But it also isn't addressed as Steve ends the call and falls back into his seat with a long, dramatic sigh.

"Is she okay?" Natasha asks quietly after a moment.

He looks straight ahead, eyes traveling out over the nearly empty road before them. "She's in surgery now."

"Is Barnes okay?"

He shrugs. "He said Tessa agreed with everything the doctor was saying. And he trusts her judgement." He looks over at Natasha, a heaviness to his deep blue eyes. "What are we gonna do?"

She shifts her gaze to him, her mouth slightly agape. "You're asking me?" He nods. She turns back to the road and pulls in a deep, steadying breath. "We need to tell them," she says, a finality to her words.

"I don't know," he mutters, his voice sounding more uncertain than she thinks she's ever heard it.

"Steve, they need to know. Tessa needs to know."

When she glances over at him, she sees that he's chewing his bottom lip nervously, like a small child trying to work out a problem. "I just think…" he starts, narrowing his eyes at the increasing fog ahead of them. "I think that she needs to focus on her physical recovery right now."

"Steve," she warns again.

"We don't even really know if there's a… a problem. Not really."

"Steve…"

He turns to face her, a pained sort of spite in his voice when he says, "She was so freaked out about going back there that she crashed her bike… almost killed herself."

Natasha's grip on the steering wheel tightens, her white knuckles being the only visible indication of her frustration. "You don't know that she was freaked out."

"Oh, come on," he interrupts with a sardonic laugh. "Storm said she hadn't been retuning phone calls. She told Bucky that she didn't want to go back there…"

"But she was going back there," she states simply. "Even if she didn't want to, she was doing it. Because she knew something was up. And now she either doesn't remember that, or is conveniently ignoring it. Or…" She stops to let out a long sigh. "Or, Professor Xavier is right and there's something going on in her head… some sort of… battle between the part of her that doesn't remember who she really is and the part that needs for her to wake up and understand her past."

He shakes his head, his jaw setting in a firm, decided way. "No," he tells her, conviction in his voice. "No. We'll just… we'll keep an eye on her. If anything else happens, like what happened last night… then we'll tell her. Hell, I'll bring Xavier to her hospital room myself if I think it'll help."

"Has it occurred to you that you're really not the one who should be making this call?" she asks with more than just a hint of disdain. "You think you're protecting her – "

"Yeah, I do," he interrupts, turning in his seat so that he can face Natasha. "I don't trust them. I don't know them, and I don't trust them."

"That's not the point."

A steady rain begins pelting the car as he huffs out a breath and tightly pinches the bridge of his nose once again. "I know we have to tell her," he says after a long moment. "But…" He looks back up at her, connects eyes for just a second as she turns away from the road. "Not now. Not while she's hurt and sick and…" He slowly rotates his body to face forward in the seat. "Just… not yet. Not until we know more about what's going on inside her head."

"And how do you plan on finding out what's going on inside her head?" she asks flippantly.

He turns his gaze out the side window and watches the trees rush by in a blur as rivulets of water stream along the glass. "I think you know the answer to that," he says so softly it's nearly a whisper.

"Steve," she ekes out through gritted teeth.

He glances back over at her, takes in the barely contained rage that her scowl denotes. "I can't put this on her right now," he says, sincerity flooding his words. "We can't put this on her right now."

Natasha's face relaxes just a bit as she shrugs and says, voice dripping with derision, "You're the Captain."