Work Text:
Fandom: Marvel
Prompt: Please please write more! I would love to see the aftermath of him waking up and finding a family/team with Peggy and Daniel ❤️❤️❤️ — BetaArtemis
“You bloody bastard,” Peggy breathes, giving Jack’s hand a tight squeeze, “never do that again.”
“What, get shot?” Jack turns his head slightly to get a proper look at her. “Yes, Chief.”
Daniel snorts. Peggy shoots him a look. He waves a hand. “Sorry, it’s just…”
“Spit it out, Sousa,” Jack groans, turning his head to look at him.
Daniel glances at Peggy. “When you got…” he gestures at her abdomen— “and you…at—“
“Oh, bollocks,” Peggy mutters, realizing what Daniel’s referring to.
“You know,” Jack says, calling their attention back, “I still have no idea what’s going on.”
“Nothing new there,” Daniel mutters automatically, smirking when Jack tries to whack his arm as he does normally but only succeeds in squeezing Daniel’s hand, “don’t worry about it.”
“When I got impaled Daniel and I had a very similar exchange,” Peggy says, raising an eyebrow when Daniel looks at her, exasperated. “What? My injury.”
“Wait, Carter, you got what?”
Both Peggy and Daniel immediately push Jack back onto the bed when he tries to struggle out of it. He flounders, taken aback by the contact.
“Whoa, okay, easy there,” he laughs nervously, “I’m staying put, I’m staying put.”
“You’re still recovering,” Peggy says sharply, dulled a little by the fact that they still have one hand on his shoulder and one holding his, “I’ll not have you re-injure yourself just as quickly.”
Jack doesn’t try to move again but he does glare at Peggy. “I’m sorry, the woman who got impaled is saying this to me?”
“He’s got a point, Peg,” Daniel says.
“Shh.” Peggy waves Daniel off. Daniel just rolls his eyes fondly and looks at Jack all lovesick puppy.
Right.
Peggy and Daniel frown when a curtain falls over Jack’s face, that furrow coming between his crows again, his hands going a little more limp in theirs. He clears his throat and looks at Peggy.
“I think I know why I got shot.”
Peggy takes it in stride, the worry about the mask that clicked into place taking a seat. “The file?”
Jack nods. “I, uh, took it from V-Vernon’s briefcase back at the SSR.”
Daniel frowns when Jack stumbles over Vernon’s name, letting him and Peggy discuss the shooting. He should be paying attention, this is his goddamn jurisdiction, and he’s the Chief, but he knows Peggy’s just as capable, if not more, of doing the job. Plus, he’s still too shaken by how quickly Jack changed from their friend, lying in a hospital bed, relieved to see them, and the SSR agent, dryly reporting back. Well, almost.
Jack Thompson doesn’t show weakness. Everyone who’s worked with the man for three seconds knows that. And perhaps they could chalk it up to the fact that the man’s just been shot, but his voice trembled when he tried to say Vernon’s name. And he didn’t even cover it up.
“What’re you staring at, Sousa?”
Daniel blinks. Jack’s looking back at him, a different mask in place this time. Now it’s the Thompson Swagger, as they called it, the effect dulled a little by his unkempt hair and pale cheeks, but it’s still there, the ghost of a cocky smirk on his face. Attractive bastard.
“You’ve got your focused face on,” Jack says, raising an eyebrow. “Am I that interesting?”
“You’re that unbelievable,” Daniel retorts, except he says it wrong. It’s supposed to be a quick comeback, something he shoots across the office. It’s supposed to be a rubber shield he holds out to deflect the Thompson Charm, sending it bouncing away. It’s supposed to be an insult. Jack is supposed to brush it off. Instead, with the way he says it, it sounds like a declaration. And now he can’t look away.
Peggy sees. Of course she sees. She was in the military, she knows the look. She saw it between her company men, she saw it right before battles. She saw it between Steve and James. Hell, she’s given that look a few times.
“Boys,” she says softly, trying not to laugh when they both startle and look up at her guiltily. “The doctors want to keep you overnight,” she says to Jack, “but we’ll get you out of here after that.”
“I ain’t gonna be able to get on a plane any time soon, Carter.”
“Of course not, we’re not going to send you across the country. You’ll stay here.”
“In another hotel? You know how well that worked out for me last time.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Daniel says, looking at Peggy with his ‘we need to talk’ face on, “now you better rest.”
“Yes, Chief.”
Peggy rolls her eyes fondly, squeezing Jack’s hand one more time as she and Daniel leave, nodding to Agent Clark. He’s one of the few they still trust.
The drive away from the hospital is quiet. Peggy glances out the window, her mind running with all the possibilities for what to do next. They need to get Jack to a safe location. They need to figure out who else at the SSR they can still trust. Now that they know the reason Jack was shot, they need to figure out where the file is. Hang on…
“Oh, bollocks.”
Daniel looks at her sharply. “What?”
“We didn’t ask him if he’d read it.”
Daniel frowns. “Oh. You know, I totally forgot. I didn’t even think about it.”
“Neither did I.” Peggy chuckles to herself. “Well, that’s not my finest moment.”
“No,” Daniel agrees, “mine either. How the hell did we forget?”
Peggy tears her eyes away from the city lights outside, looking at Daniel. He’s silhouetted against the lights on his side of the car, the background blurring slightly as she focuses on him. She smiles.
“I think we both know how.”
There’s a moment of silence.
“Can we talk about this later?”
“Why, so you have enough time to come up with a convincing story?”
“No,” Daniel says. Peggy raises an eyebrow. “…maybe.”
“Daniel, I—“
“I wasn’t going to lie to you,” Daniel says, stubbornly clenching his jaw, “I wasn’t.”
“I know,” Peggy says, reaching out to stroke away the wrinkles in his jacket, “I’m sorry for making it seem like that.”
Daniel glances at her before turning his gaze back to the road. “Please, Peggy. Not now. I can’t—not while I’m driving.”
“Of course,” Peggy yields instantly, taking Daniel’s free hand in hers, “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I assumed the worst of someone I care very deeply about, that warrants an apology.”
Daniel squeezes her hand. “It’s okay. You called me out on something I shouldn’t’ve done.”
“In all honesty, I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it either,” Peggy murmurs, her iron facade slipping for the first time since they left the hospital.
“Well, we’ve got the rest of the drive to Stark’s place.”
Peggy looks over at him. “You’re taking me to Howard’s?”
“Isn’t that where you’re staying?”
“Daniel, I can just as easily call Mr. Jarvis when you—“
“Peggy.”
“Daniel.”
Daniel rolls his eyes, hiding a smile. “Just let me drive you home?”
“Will you stay the night?”
He glances over at her, raising his eyebrows.
“Not like that,” Peggy sniffs, even as her cheeks flush. “We already know they’re targeting SSR agents. They know where you live. Howard Stark’s security is top-notch. Plus, I—“
She cuts herself off, looking out the window.
“…I would feel better if you were close,” she murmurs to the glass.
Daniel hears it. He knows he can’t say no to Peggy Carter.
“I’ll stay.”
“Will that be enough, Chief Sousa?”
“Uh, yeah, thank you, Mrs. Jarvis,” Daniel says, staring at the sheer amount of food in front of him, “this really wasn’t necessary.”
“Nonsense,” she says, “you need a good meal after a long day. I shall leave you to it.”
She gives Peggy a one-armed hug as she leaves, Daniel staring after her.
“She’s incredible,” Peggy says, “isn’t she?”
“I’ll say.” Daniel looks back at the table. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Just start,” Peggy advises, helping herself to something in front of her, “you’ll know.”
Eating is an excellent way to put off this conversation that he knows they have to have. In fairness, Peggy’s doing the same thing. Together, they practically inhale half the table and only marginally slow down for the second half. Eating also gives Daniel something to do with his hands which left his brain to worry about what he was going to say.
He and Peggy had talked about being queer before. Late nights at the office lead to conversation. Conversation around alcohol leads to reminiscing. Reminiscing leads to their days in the army. That leads to—
Daniel takes a break from the absolutely delicious shortbread dish to have a sip of water. He remembers telling Peggy about the man he’d lost in Bastogne. He remembers her firm hand on his shoulder as he shed tears he hadn’t known he’d had left, leaning against her as they sat on their desks. He remembers her telling her stories about the female nurses in the S.O.E. and how much it hurt when she never saw them again. He’d set his glass down and she’d set hers down, both of them gripping the desk with both hands, staring at the floor.
“You’re going to put a hole in the table,” comes Peggy’s voice. He glances up, smiling ruefully, and taking another drink. “Thinking hard over there?”
“Or hardly thinking,” Daniel mutters to himself. He hasn’t made any headway into what the hell he’s going to say.
Luckily, Peggy seems to be in the same boat, so he goes back to trying to make his brain do the thing.
Jack fucking Thompson.
No, not do Jack Thompson, but do the thing where he thinks about Jack Thompson—not like that, just—alright, this isn’t what he’s supposed to be doing, let’s just—moving on—
He would be the worst fucking liar in the world if he said he didn’t find the bastard attractive. Come on, he’s practically the poster boy for it. It pisses him off. And he fucking knows it too, which is the worst part. Fucking bastard struts around the place like he owns it and it’s not fair. It’s just fucking rude.
Okay, swearing and being upset about how attractive Jack is isn’t gonna get anyone anywhere.
He knows it’s not just because Jack looks like…well, Jack. If it were just that, he wouldn’t’ve noticed how quickly Jack snapped into being a soldier every time something bad happened. His heart wouldn’t’ve stopped when he heard he’d been shot. The sight and thought of Vernon Masters wouldn’t send him into a boiling rage.
Jack Thompson is a stubborn, arrogant, annoying-as-all-hell bastard.
And if he went away, Daniel wouldn’t know what to do.
Peggy watches Daniel continue to contort his face into all sorts of interesting expressions, tearing off little chunks of bread and popping them into her mouth. She can’t blame him. They’re about to have a very interesting conversation and, in all honestly, she should be doing the same.
When did she start caring so much about Jack bloody Thompson?
The answer comes to her almost immediately. The plane. It didn’t make her completely alter her perspective of the man, absolutely not, but it did allow her to see. See the cracks, the incomplete picture. See through the man he tried so hard to push. When he came to L.A. they were even clearer; her time away from New York, away from him, making them very obvious when she looked for them.
A horrible black pit opens up in the pit of her stomach. She owes him quite an apology. He’d trusted her with a terrible secret and she’d thrown it back in his face, yanking at a string she never should’ve pulled.
He’d stopped her before she could answer his question about whether or not she’d’ve shot him. Good thing, too. She’s not sure she knows the answer anymore. Seeing him recover from the gunshot wound someone else inflicted on him was bad enough, but her own?
Let’s not go there.
All too soon, their plates are empty and they sit back.
“Well,” Daniel mutters, shifting his weight, “I am not moving from this chair for a while.”
“No, you’re quite right,” Peggy agrees, “though Ana was right. We needed that.”
“No kidding.” Daniel stares into his glass. “So…”
“Right.”
“Talking.”
“Yes.”
“About…things.”
“Multiple things.”
“…you wanna—“
“No, after you.”
“I don’t want to impose—“
“No, of course not.”
“It’s your house.”
“Guests first.”
“He’s your boss.”
“You’ve known him longer.”
“You know him better.”
Peggy blinks, taken aback. “What makes you say that?”
Daniel just gives her a look. “Come on. You both went off to Belarus and when you came back not only did he compliment you in front of Dooley, he invited you out for a drink. For Jack Thompson, that’s the equivalent of publicly declaring he’d follow you to hell and back.”
Peggy looks down, twisting her hands together in her lap. “He’s a good man, Daniel. He just makes it hard for himself.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“I did something wrong,” Peggy says, closing her eyes, “and I need to fix it.”
She hears Daniel lean forward, can practically see the concerned furrow between his brows.
“On the plane ride back,” she says finally, “he told me something. Something I swore to keep a secret. And…that day. In your office. I used it against him in a way that I never should have.”
“The thing about burying an ugly truth?”
“Yes.”
Daniel sits back. “I did wonder why he went pale after you said that. Figured it was just a side effect of having a very angry Peggy Carter screaming in his face.”
“Oh please.”
“Excuse me?” Daniel looks at her. “You, Peggy Carter, are absolutely terrifying when you’re angry. It is something I hope to never experience first-hand.”
“I don’t think you will,” she answers honestly, both of them exchanging a look before she continues: “I violated his trust. So many people have done that to him already. The last thing I want to do is join that list of people.”
“Not exactly the company you want to keep,” Daniel agrees. His face darkens.
Peggy raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“Sorry. Just…thinking about someone else on that list.”
“Vernon Masters.”
“Yep.”
Peggy clenches her fists. That absolute wanker…
“Do you think he…” Daniel looks over at her. “Jack…”
She nods sharply. “It fits too well.”
“Do you think…while he was here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think Jack would tell us?”
Peggy shakes her head. “That would require time. Lots of it.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not going anywhere.”
Here it is. This is their segue. This is where they figure out whether or not they’re about to talk about this or let it slide, pass into fleeting thought. Peggy glances at Daniel, readying herself to take the plunge.
“He looked so sad when I told him I was engaged.”
Peggy’s head whips around, staring at Daniel with wide eyes. He stares at the ground, gripping his crutch as it leans against the table. He looks up at her slowly, a strange look on his face.
“I was staying late at the SSR,” he continues quietly, “looking for stuff on Frost, or Cully. He, uh, came up to ask me about something. We talked about you, actually,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up, “said you were ‘still a pistol.’”
“I’m sure he meant it as an insult.”
“I’m not so sure he did.” Before she can ask, he keeps going. “He mentioned that I moved out here because of my broken heart and I brought up the fact that no, I was engaged to Violet.”
Peggy wants to ask more, ask why the hell Jack said Daniel moved out west because of her, did he?—but she’s still too focused on the barely hidden sadness in Daniel’s eyes.
“You know that thing where it takes a second for him to put one of his masks on?” Peggy nods. “It took him longer than usual. And it wasn’t the first time I’d seen it happen, but…it was the first time it hurt.”
Daniel swallows and looks away. “The second time, he uh, asked me out for the drink at the Frolic Room Bar. I told him I’d have to take a rain check and it happened again. And I don’t think…I don’t think I realized why he was sad…or why it made me sad.”
When he looks back at her, Peggy’s breath catches in her throat. He’s stripped bare, completely laying himself at her feet, looking at her with a strange mixture of vulnerability, desperation, and hope. Her turn.
“When you were interrogating me,” she starts, “during that whole mess in New York, Thompson’s was the hardest to get through.”
Daniel leans forward, listening closely.
“Dooley didn’t have anything to offer me,” she continues, “and you…Daniel, you can’t do the angry-interrogator route,” she admits with a small smile, “I admire how hard you tried, but—“
“God, I told them that wasn’t gonna work,” Daniel huffs, his own smile taking over his face, “I had no idea what to say!”
“It wasn’t very believable.”
“Oh, I know,” Daniel says, “I felt ridiculous. I didn’t want to yell at you! I wanted to ask you what the hell you were doing and why you didn’t want to trust the SSR with it.”
“I’m not sure I would’ve told you.”
“I’m not sure you should have. At least not before that.” Daniel scrubs a hand over his face. “I told them we should’ve just asked you like civilized people—“ Peggy giggles— “and then I told them me being angry at you wasn’t gonna sell it, but Dooley insisted that the reverse-approach was gonna work.” He snorts. “Fat lotta good it did me.”
Peggy nods, but then: “but it almost worked for Jack.”
Bernard the flamingo squawks somewhere in the distance.
“I knew it was fake,” Peggy says, “the whole…act of it. I’d seen it a thousand times, done it a thousand times. But the fact that it was…it wasn’t.”
Peggy looks at Daniel. “You know how he gets when he really wants something? That way his shoulders lean forward a little more?” Daniel nods. “He didn’t uncross his arms the whole time, and when he did, he leant on the table to hide it.”
She rolls her shoulder a little to demonstrate. “Daniel, he, I…I didn’t tell him. I didn’t want to tell any of you. But I wanted to show you lot that you could do the right thing even when it wasn’t through the agency.”
“You did, Peggy,” Daniel says softly, “you showed all of us.”
“He puts so much of his faith in the system,” Peggy mutters, “and sometimes the system isn’t right. I…I guess I wanted him to know that if he put his faith in people, it would encourage him to…to…”
“Yeah.”
They sit in silence for a few moments. Then Daniel chuckles and takes a long drink.
“God, Peggy, he’s gone for you.”
Peggy blinks. “Pardon?”
“You didn’t know?” When she shakes her head, Daniel huffs. “The whole damn office could see it. I thought you—well, I guess I figured you knew and just…didn’t talk about it. But god, Peg, the way he looks at you, the way he talks about you…I wasn’t kidding before, Jack’d follow you to hell and back.”
And yes, Peggy’s not too proud to admit the revelation makes her head spin. And she’s mature enough to admit that yes, she’s…considered it. But it’s not enough of a revelation for her to miss the way Daniel’s gaze changes when he talks about it.
“If that’s an indication,” she says quietly, “then I’m afraid he’s quite gone for you too.”
“Wait, what?”
“Oh, Daniel,” Peggy laughs, “surely you’ve noticed? You should’ve seen how upset he was when we found you in the theater, he didn’t want to leave your bedside.”
They both laugh at themselves. “For detectives, we definitely aren’t very good at this, are we?”
“Guess not.”
“Peggy,” Daniel says quietly, “I…you know I care about you, right?”
“I know.”
“And I…I really want to…see where we go with…this. And I would never be unfaithful to you.”
Peggy nods. She reaches across the table to link her fingers with Daniel’s. He gives her hand a tender squeeze.
“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here, Daniel.”
“But,” he relents, “I…I care about Jack too.”
“Me too,” Peggy echoes, “me too, Daniel.”
They look at each other. Daniel swallows heavily, his grip on Peggy’s hand never wavering.
“Just to be clear,” he says in a strangled whisper, “we are…we are talking about having a romantic relationship with Jack and each other, right?”
Peggy nods sharply. “Yes. We are.”
“Okay.”
“Right.”
“Uh,” Daniel chuckles nervously, “is now a good idea to mention that I have no idea what I’m doing?”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Peggy says, “you’ve not done so bad for yourself.”
“Just because I got into a relationship with Violet doesn’t mean I know how I did it.”
“You’ve gotten into one with me,” Peggy says with a smile, raising her eyebrow.
“You pushed me into my chair, Peggy Carter, and proceeded to—“
“Yes, alright, point taken.”
“—make the most eloquent counterargument I have ever seen,” Daniel finishes, smiling brightly when Peggy blushes. “Hey, I’m not complaining.”
“No, I suppose not.”
They sober, still holding hands, looking out over the garden.
“I don’t think we should bring him here,” Peggy says finally, glancing around, “I think he’d hate it more than necessary.”
“We can bring him to mine,” Daniel says immediately, “I’ve got the room. Plus, it would help to have someone who…knows what it’s like to have to recover from something like that.”
Peggy nods. “We should…talk to him about…things.”
“Maybe start with the file, huh?”
A wrinkle appears between Peggy’s brows. “I’ve honestly no idea what it is.”
“Which is why we can ask Jack. Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Peggy agrees, pushing back her shoulders. “When we bring him home.”
Jack’s blaming the morphine still working its way through his veins for the fact that Vernon won’t shut the fuck up.
Come on, Jackie-Boy, what did you expect? That they were gonna just swoop in and let you break the law all over again?
He closes his eyes, shaking his head from side to side slowly, nothing that would aggravate his mounting headache. It had been so nice, opening his eyes and seeing they were really there. The relieved smiles on their faces, how concerned they both looked, the firm yet gentle weight of their hands on his shoulders. Even the ache in his chest faded away for a little bit, finally letting him breathe properly since he’d left New York.
Then Daniel looked at him and called him unbelievable.
It should’ve been just part of their banter, jabs tossed across the room, not truly meant to hurt. He was supposed to look at him with either an exasperated huff or that fucking smirk on his face.
He wasn’t supposed to look at Jack like he’s some precious thing, murmur it like a confession. He wasn’t supposed to make Jack want to lean over and kiss that unsure, vulnerable look off of Daniel’s face.
You think he’d let you?
Jack winces at Vernon’s voice, winces again at the horrible, grating laughter that comes after it.
You’re toxic, Jackie-Boy. You think it’s a coincidence everything falls apart around you?
“No…” Jack mutters, trying to get Vernon to go the fuck away.
No, it’s not a coincidence. That was not what he meant. Sure it was, Jackie-Boy. You know the truth. Hell, you led them right into it, didn’t you? Led them to me.
God, the fucking ache in his chest when he pleaded with Carter to come back to New York with him. He didn’t want her hurt. He didn’t want her killed. He didn’t want her swept up in this mess. He didn’t want to let Vernon at her.
Peggy’s not like him. Peggy’s strong in ways he will never be. She would probably be fine, but…
You know me, Jackie-Boy, Vernon taunts, you know that I have ways. You have to pay your dues, everyone does. Carter would learn that. Or she’d burn herself up before she could. And Sousa…or should we call him Daniel?
No, no let’s fucking not.
Darling Daniel it is then…oh, Jackie-Boy, he knows how you look at him. He’s just too good of a man to say anything about it. Not that you’d know anything about that…but you picked a good one. He’s pretty too.
No. No, no, no, not Daniel.
Oh, relax, Jackie-Boy—Jack is the opposite of relaxed right now, thank you very much—no one’s as pretty as you. Though maybe I did take the wrong approach, having Daniel’s pretty face all roughed up. Maybe I should’ve done what I did with you…
“You’re dead,” he mutters, “you can’t do anything.”
Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get your happy ending, Jackie-Boy. You think they’ll keep you around once they know what you are? You saw how happy they are together, you think they’ll just—
“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Jack decides, sitting up in bed, the sharp pain from moving dulling Vernon’s voice. He sits up, thinking.
They’ll want to know more about the file. He doesn’t know if Peggy ever found out what was in it, and as he comes to think more and more about it, he’s pretty sure she was right. It’s not real.
He’ll tell them what he remembers, then. That’s his promise. And he’ll…he’ll thank them. For staying. For coming to see him.
Then he’ll go home.