Chapter Text
6
Jack's mouth felt dry as he stared at Peggy. He'd been hoping that things would be in the best possible scenario, that Peggy would be okay. In that scenario, she was safe and unharmed. The two of them would work together to find out what happened to her after they were separated. Once things were smooth again, they could rebuild their relationship, and he would propose to her.
Unfortunately, this situation, or any for that matter, hadn't considered the possibility that she wouldn't remember him. She had no idea who he was, and it hurt. As much as he was concerned about how she had been treated by her captors in the past months, the fact that Peggy had no idea who he was caused the most pain for him. Jack wondered if she'd been tortured, maybe to the point that she forgot about him completely. Now he wanted to know how much she remembered about anything. Did she know Sousa? Stark? Captain Rogers? God, if she still thought he was alive….
"No, Peggy…" Jack pleaded, trying to remain calm.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she tilted her head and looked puzzled. "Who's Peggy?"
"You. It's your name," Jack told her, feeling his heart break. She didn't even know her own name. "C'mon, you remember who you are, don't you?"
Peggy straightened up.
"I'm one of the twenty-eight ballerinas in the Bolshoi," she recited, as though someone had drilled her to say. "Training is hard, but I make the Soviet Union proud."
"No, you're not Russian!" Jack yelled. "You're British, you're not a ballerina. Peggy, you hate ballet!"
"No, I don't hate it. I'm training in it," she replied simply. There was something about her answer that felt familiar to him, as though he'd heard someone say something in that tone before. It was too innocent, too sweet for Peggy. "One of the other girls came here before me to study dance, and the manager decided that it was my turn to come to America now. Do you know the girl who came here? Her name's Ida, she's absolutely wonderful."
It suddenly clicked in Jack's brain why her tone was so familiar. He'd heard it when he and Sousa found the woman who called herself Dottie Underwood standing over Peggy's unconscious body at the Griffith. The woman used the same tone when she said that Peggy had fainted, even though she had been responsible for getting the upper hand on Peggy. When they had investigated Dottie after the Leviathan disaster, they found she had used multiple aliases, including one where her name was Ida.
"Dottie? Don't you remember what she did? C'mon, Carter, you have to snap out of it!"
"Carter?" Peggy shook her head, confused. "Who's Carter? And who's Peggy?"
Jack wanted to scream. Leviathan had to be back and behind this. They'd taken the memories of the woman he loved, and it infuriated him. She had no idea who he was, let alone who she was. It was ripping him apart inside. Whatever those bastards had done to her, he was going to find a way to make them pay.
"You are," he told her gently. "Your name is Peggy Carter. You work for the SSR."
"The SSR?" Something flashed in her eyes. Jack prayed it was recognition.
"Strategic Scientific Reserve," Jack explained. "You're co-chief with me. We're…partners."
He decided to avoid using the word together. Peggy didn't remember herself, let alone their relationship. Jack wasn't sure if he wanted to tell her that yet.
"We're partners?" Peggy smiled. She appeared cheerful, but something felt off. "What's your name?"
"Jack. Jack Thompson."
"Jack Thompson," repeated Peggy, cocking her head to the side.
A warm feeling filled Jack as she said his name.
"Jack Thompson, co-chief of the SSR."
Peggy's smile suddenly was too sweet. Jack moved back in his chair slightly, alarm bells going off inside of his head. Then, without warning, she lunged across the table, tackling him out of his chair. Jack managed to roll away from her when they hit the floor. When he looked up at Peggy, there was a frightening, deadly determination in her eyes. She reached into the waistband of her skirt and produced a switchblade. Jack moved his hand to pull out his gun, but met empty air. He'd left it upstairs in his office, not counting on needing it with Peggy.
"Peggy, what are you doing?"
Her response was to slam him up against the glass that hid a room no one would be on the other side of. She had her hands on his throat, keeping a growing pressure on it.
Jack started seeing spots. "Peggy…please."
The door swung open and both looked toward it. Jack felt the pressure lift on his throat with Peggy's attention slightly diverted. Three agents came in and pulled her off of him, while a fourth jammed a syringe into her shoulder. Two long seconds ticked by before Peggy slumped into unconsciousness. Jack was still gasping for air as he looked up at the doorway to see Sousa standing in it.
"Get her to medical," Sousa ordered, maneuvering over to Jack. "You okay?"
"She tried to kill me," Jack murmured in disbelief. He could still feel her fingers around his neck.
"Glad I decided to sit on the other side of the glass then."