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Jack had been in the hospital for six days and out of his second surgery for three when the phone rang. Peggy watched as the noise startled Jack awake from a half-doze, and he grimaced when the motion yanked at his stitches. She leaned over and picked up the phone, expecting it to be Daniel with information about the investigation, or maybe about whoever was set to relieve her from providing security for Jack.
“Hello, Peggy Carter speaking.”
“Is this the Los Angeles General Hospital?”
It was a male voice, gruff and stern, but not one that was familiar to her.
“Yes, sir, but I’m afraid you have the wrong number. This isn’t the nurses station.”
From the bed, Jack perked up and turned his head to look at her with a certain level of bemusement and interest.
After a crackling pause that indicated the call was almost certainly a long-distance one, the voice on the phone came back.
“Well, you’re a nurse, aren’t you?” Peggy scowled and rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything the man kept talking. “Besides, I was told this was the room for Jack Thompson.”
A flash of alarm ran through Peggy, and she shot a glance back towards Jack, who was still watching curiously. If this was a setup of some sort, an assassin attempting to confirm Jack’s location….
“And may I ask who you are, sir?”
“I’m his father, and I’d like to speak to my son. Kindly hand over the phone, young lady.”
Peggy felt her jaw drop. They had tried to contact Jack’s family almost a week ago when he was first shot, but the home line Jack had given the office when he started in ’46 was no longer in use, and Rose had only been able to reach the staff of one Senator John Thompson. Peggy knew that Jack’s relationship with his family was strained, and even more so after the Vernon Masters fiasco, but she thought that his parents would have at least wanted to make sure their son was alive.
She recovered from her surprise quickly, saying “I see. Give me a moment.” She carefully covered the receiving end of the phone with her palm, then leaned towards Jack to tell him under her breath that there was a man on the phone who said he was his father.
Pure shock flashed across Jack’s face for just a second before he schooled his features back into the blank mask Peggy had learned to recognize as just that after the whole Howard fiasco.
“Tell him I’m asleep. Or something. Anything. I don’t want to talk to him,” Jack muttered, turning away from her.
“Jack-“ she hissed, but he only leveled her with a sharp glare.
She sighed and returned the phone to her ear.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Thompson, but your son is asleep at the moment. I’ll let him know you called when he’s awake,” Peggy said in her sweetest voice, knowing that only Jack would be able to detect the fact that it was actually dripping in sarcasm.
“No need. I’ll call back in an hour,” came the voice, harsh and uncompromising. And with that, the line went dead.
“Well, you’ve managed to avoid that conversation for another 60 minutes,” she told Jack, deadpan.
Jack only rolled his eyes and made a poor attempt at shifting further away from her, biting back a groan when the motion aggravated his shoulder. When that didn’t work, he closed his eyes and simply neglected to respond to her. Ironically, it wasn’t even ten minutes later when he actually did drift off to sleep, breaths going slow and even.
Peggy watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, still somewhat in disbelief that he was there, with her, alive. She hadn’t realized just how much she relied on Jack, as a coworker and as a friend, until he had almost been taken from them. She and Daniel had sat through hours of nerve-racking surgery while the doctors tried first to remove the bullet and stem the bleeding and then again to try to remove the infected tissue around Jack’s weakened lung. Even now his cheeks were still flushed with the slightest remains of the fever that had made him completely delirious, the rest of his skin a waxy grey.
Eventually she managed to drag herself away from staring at Jack’s sleeping form and refocused on the case file open in her lap. They hadn’t had any luck tracking down the would-be assassin, and Peggy was beginning to think that if they hadn’t found them yet they wouldn’t any time soon, but she wasn’t about to let that stop her.
Soon, the nurse came in to give Jack his next dose of morphine and change the bandages, and Peggy stepped into the hallway. Just as she was coming back into the room, the phone’s shrill tone started again. This time, it was the nurse who picked it up, and simply handed it to Jack before leaving the room. Part of Peggy felt as though she should leave again, to protect what little privacy Jack had here in the hospital, but she couldn’t quite force herself to go back out of the room. Instead, she busied herself by organizing the handful of Jack’s personal things that Daniel had retrieved from his suitcase (which had been taken to the SSR evidence lockup), pointedly not making eye contact with Jack.
“Hi, Pop.”
Senator Thompson’s response was muffled.
“I’m fine. Tell Ma to stop worrying so much.”
Again, Peggy couldn’t make out the response, but out of the corner of her eye she watched Jack’s face contort into a scowl.
“So that’s what this is really about, then,” Jack spat, tone bordering on venomous. “You’re just back to tell me how disappointed you are in my life choices.”
This time, Senator Thompson’s response was audible even to Peggy as his voice rose in volume and sharpness, nearly yelling “Because they almost got you killed!”
Jack scoffed. “And you’ve shown just how much you care about that, haven’t you, Pop. It’s been almost a week! I know the SSR tried to get ahold of you!”
There was another pause before Jack interrupted “You know what, save it. It’s my life, Pop, you don’t get to decide how I live it.” A loud clatter sounded, and Peggy turned to find that instead of bothering to hand her the phone to put it back on the receiver, Jack had thrown it with his good arm, and it had bounced off the wall. She calmly walked over, picked it up, and put the phone back in its cradle.
Peggy settled back in the chair at his bedside while Jack attempted to not make eye contact with her.
“You know, I have experience in the department of not getting along with parents,” Peggy noted, voice light but her tone serious.
“Pretty sure disagreements about your tomboyish nature don’t compare, Marge,” Jack scoffed.
Peggy was silent a moment, before declaring, “I hate you.”
Jack looked at her stunned for a moment before she clarified, “Those were the last words I said to my mother before I left for the war. I had told her my plans to take the SOE position, you know, after my brother Michael died. She, of course, was absolutely livid about it. “I’ve already lost one child to the war, I can’t lose a second,” she yelled at me, and I shot back with “It’s my life, mother, why can’t you understand that? I hate you!” and I walked out. I wrote her a letter every week while I was away - I still do - but I haven’t been home since that day.”
Jack was silent, considering.
“So I understand complicated relationships with parents, Jack.”
“Well, my old man was happy when I enlisted - he’s veteran Marines - but ya know, the ultimate dream was that I’d be a politician. He was so proud, you know, of that stupid medal, always saying “that’ll get you far in politics, son, the people love a war hero.”
Peggy pretended not to hear the tightness in Jack’s voice or notice the way that he wouldn’t quite meet her eyes. Hesitantly, she reached out a hand and set it near his on top of the sheets, and to her relief he reached over and took it, gently wrapping cold fingers around her warm ones.
“But that didn’t last long, cause I was a wreck. Drunk or hungover most of the time, couldn’t get out of bed to go to the stupid meetings Pop wanted me at. Didn’t take long before nobody wanted to talk to me anyways, ‘cept Chief Dooley. Pops, of course, wanted me in some high-and-mighty political position, didn’t want me to be an agent, but it was the only thing that made sense to me at the time.”
Jack looked up at her then. “Peggy, I don’t think I know how to go back to civilian life. What if this…”
“Hush, Jack, don’t talk like that. The doctors said they won’t know what your recovery might look like until all the swelling goes down, and there’s no point worrying about it now. Besides, you’ll adapt. Look at Daniel. And no matter what happens, Jack, we’re not going to leave you to face it alone,” she reassured, squeezing his hand tighter in hers.
The harsh ring of the phone broke the silence once again, and this time it really was Daniel, calling to say that Rose would be arriving momentarily to take over watch. As she began to pack up her stuff, Peggy snuck a look over at Jack, who looked exhausted but content, eyes already beginning to drift shut.
“Get some rest, Jack. Someone will be here when you wake up.”