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Jack Thompson x Reader
Previous ChaptersÂ
What Lies Before US
Chapter 19
A/N: once again thank you @clinicallydepressedreader for the lovely reblog of the last chapter! I do appreciate every like/feedback a great deal.Â
The next morning, before the sun had made its way above the horizon, the two of them packed up their things in the office before making their way back to the bunker. It was still locked, so Jack entered the code to gain access.
âSeems like no one broke outâ, he commented sarcastically.
They were greeted by silence as they made their way back towards the interrogation chamber. The first person they came across was Sousa, who looked like he hadnât slept much.
âYou look a bit under the weatherâ, Y/N said with a small smile, âEverything alright?â
The brunet nodded. âYeah. Peggyâs asleep. So is her brother.â
âDid you get anything?â, Jack asked, pointing towards the interrogation room with his chin.
âYeahâ, he huffed, âseems like you really are our best interrogator, Jack. What a pity youâll switch agencies.â He paused: âApparently, he was captured in 1940 and brought to a facility in East Prussia, where he underwent torture for several years. After the war, HYDRA found new allies in the Soviet Union interested in their research, so the base continued in Kaliningrad.â
âSo the Soviets know about that entire mind control stuff?â, Thompson asked, crossing his arms with a scowl. This was bad. HYDRA was a rogue organisation without a state to back it, but the Soviet Union had an entire apparatus behind it.
âYeahâ, Daniel confirmed, âhe mentioned that they continued to work on their technique, improve the compliance of their subjects.â
âThatâs why heâs only the BETA candidateâ, Y/N threw in, âThere must be an ALPHA, too. Someone whoâs been trained better. Thatâs what they outlined in that booklet, too. Does he have details on that person?â
Daniel shook his head: âThey made sure for candidates not to meet.â
âAnd do we know if heâs stable without a handler? Or is he just going to revert back into mad-mode?â, Jack questioned.
âI give no guaranteesâ, Daniel scoffed, âbut I think without Kellerâs orders, it should be fine. Weâll still send him to see a psychiatrist to look into possible de-programming, in case we were to ever run into another HYDRA scientist again.â His head turned to Y/N. âThank you, Y/N. I know you couldâve shot him to get our mission done with less personal risk.â
She waved her hand: âDaniel. Iâve pulled the trigger too quick too often. I suppose I can try the other way once in a while.â Feeling Jackâs gaze upon her, she knew that he knew what she felt, even if he disagreed with her feeling that sense of guilt.
âWeâll take him back to L.A. with usâ, Daniel said, nudging his head in the direction of where Michael was still locked up, âprobably weâll leave in about ten hours. Peggy organised private means of transportation.â
âYou mean she called Stark.â
âI mean she called Starkâ, Sousa confirmed Jackâs guess. âAre you coming with us?â
The two exchanged a quick glance.
âI think we have to get our affairs sorted in New York. I have to talk to McKinley to make him interim Chiefâ, Jack pulled a face, âand yes, I vetted him as thoroughly as I could, and though he doesnât have my charm, heâs sure as hell not gonna turn out a Communist or HYDRA agent.â
Daniel and Y/N scoffed simultaneously.
âI described you in a great many ways, Thompson, but charming?â, Daniel grinned.
âIf you need backupâ, Y/N said, not having to say more than that to clarify her offer. Sousa nodded.
âWe will.â
âIâll organise our fights back to New Yorkâ, Y/N said to Jack before marching off to one of the offices to call the airline.
When she had left, Jack turned to Sousa.
âI need Carter to spend a weekend with Y/N, get her out of New York.â
âWhat?â, Sousa raised an eyebrow, âAre you double-crossing someone again?â It was a clearly a joke, but Jack still rolled his eyes.
âNo, you jackassâ, he huffed, âbut thereâs something I need to do, and I canât have her knowing just yet. Come on, itâs awful keeping a secret from a spy, so I need a spy to help me!â
Daniel had his suspicions where this was headed, so he nodded without further question.
A few hours later, Y/N and Jack got ready to leave Miami behind.
âTell Peggy I wish her all the bestâ, Y/N said to Sousa when they got ready to enter the taxi, âI think sheâs quite busy with everything thatâs happened.â
âI willâ, Sousa said with a smile, âThank you for the help.â
âDonât mention itâ, she said, âYou two have saved our asses more than enough, too.â
Just when they were about to climb into the cab, the door flew open again and Peggy stormed out to hug Y/N. âYou didnât think I would not say goodbye to you, did you?â
âIâm sure youâve got bigger things on your mind then waving at meâ, Y/N laughed, âespecially since Iâm sure weâll speak on the phone before you know it.â
âYou can count on it!â, Peggy looked over to Jack, nodding at him. âThank you, Jack. I even relinquish the desire to shoot you.â
Jack snorted. âYeah? Thanks, Marge.â
âSee you around, you twoâ, Peggy said with a smile as they departed. For once, despite the entire Michael-situation wasnât yet resolved completely, their case was closed. Keller was dead. The Arena Club dismantled.
Jack Thompsonâs and Y/N L/Nâs tenue at the SSR was coming to a close.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
They decided to remain at the SSR for four more weeks to wrap things up, then take a few days off with the vacation days that they had, in theory, accumulated but had been unable to ever use because the world wouldnât stop ending before starting at the CIA in March of 1948. That meant that they had a few weeks of mostly filing and other desk duties, which came to Y/Nâs advantage as it gave her wound time to heal without feeling like she was missing out on anything that wouldâve needed her skillset. A definite downside to that was, however, that it provided time to think. And as good as they were when dealing with criminals, from mobster to mad scientist, they were equally terrible at handling domestic issues.
And there was a rather big one that they had to take care of one way or another. Their own wedding.
âWhy the hell are you worrying about this, Thompson? Youâve seen how it goes at Carter and Sousaâs. Just donât fall flat on your face and youâll be fineâ, Jack thought to himself, though he knew he was only kidding himself. There were a million things that could go wrong. Family was a blessing, but it was also a can of worms. And his friends from university and from his time in the Marine Corps didnât know each other, so they might hate each other. And there was the miniscule thing around Y/Nâs family. Or, more precisely, her father.
Their wedding would take place in February, which meant that it would most likely be cold as hell, but there wasnât much they could do about it, it was one of the only moments â perhaps of their entire lives â where they could be fairly sure that they had time for such an event.
Y/N was a bit confused by the no-discussion-allowed tone Peggy had when she called her one day to inform her that theyâd spend a weekend together back in Boston where Peggy knew a childhood friend who was selling wedding dresses. Y/N wasnât that thrilled to return to that city again so soon â but after being threatened to have to fly to L.A. to meet with her instead, she agreed.
âYou sure you donât want to come?â, Y/N asked when packing her suitcase, looking over to her fiancĂŠ. âWe donât really do things traditionally, so I donât mind if you see the dress before day X.â
âYouâre rightâ, he pushed himself off the wall with a grin, âwe did everything up until this moment in an unorthodox manner. Letâs do this one thing the old-fashion way. Iâm sure my ma would be livid if we didnât.â He gave her a quick kiss, causing Y/N to laugh.
âYour ma would be livid if she knew half the crap weâve done togetherâ, Y/N informed him, âAnd I donât even mean just our work now, I doubt sheâd be happy with all the stuff that happened before the war, either.â
âI have no idea what youâre talking about, we were practically saints at universityâ, he said with a wink, making her scoff.
âYeah. I hope Nick bites his tongue if heâs around on our wedding day. Donât want your parentsâ image of their saintly son to be destroyed.â
âŚâŚâŚ
Y/N was greeted by her friend at the airport. âYou really didnât have to fly all across the country just for this silly thingâ, Y/N said after giving her a hug, âIâm sure Jack wouldnât have walked off the altar just because I was wearing a normal dress. With that temper of his, he canât afford to be picky.â
Peggy laughed at her jab at her fiancĂŠ. âYou know, Y/N, I have to agree with you on this one! Doesnât mean you should not do it, still. Maybe I just want to see that airhead speechless once.â
Y/N grinned. âHe does have a tendency to want the last word. That, and he doesnât have the best of filters. Shouldâve seen him when we met again after the war. I wasnât sure if he was about to jump at me to hug me, or slap me, and he just ended up accidentally insulting me.â
âWhat?â, Peggy looked offended on Y/Nâs behalf when she heard that, and Y/N only waved.
âIâm pretty sure he had a rough night beforeâ, she said with a lopsided smile, âand heâs never been good at personal diplomacy. Trust me, you eventually learn to handle and to interpret his insults. Most of them arenât meant to be taken literally, or even figuratively, theyâre just an expression of Thompson-doesnât-know-what-to-say.â
As they made their way through the city, Y/N sighed. âDidnât expect to be back here so soon, I have to say. But I guess I canât hate every city for what happened in it, otherwise, sooner or later, I wonât be able to live in the US entirely.â
âSo youâve gotten over your hatred for L.A.?â, Peggy asked with raised eyebrows.
âNo.â
âNo?â The brunette laughed.
âNo, but for a whole host of reasons. Firstâ, Y/N raised a finger, âI donât like the climate. Way to hot. I prefer more moderate weather, and New Yorkâs summers are hot enough. Second, I am deeply weirded out by Hollywood. Feels like throwing a glittering blanket over a pile of dirty laundry.â Peggy laughed at her description of most peopleâs idolised part of America, but Y/N continued. âThird, I have to be a bit considerate towards Jack. And I doubt he can live in the same city as Howard Stark without accidentally murdering him.â
âYes, some days, I share that sentimentâ, Peggy agreed, âBy all his brilliance, he is a nuisance, too.â
Y/N pressed her lips together, wondering if asking about Michael was appropriate. She decided, after having taken a bullet in order to save the man, she had the right to inquire. âHow is your brother?â
âI think he is getting better. It is really hard, though, for him to â you know â figure out who he is, again. Who he really is, without mind control, without the programme that they had drilled into himâ, Peggy replied, her tone calm and relatively collected. âBut I know heâll get through this. Michael taught me what it means to fight to get what no one thought possible. He survived all theyâve done to him â heâll get back.â
âWeâll have to look into that programming, thoughâ, Y/N muttered, clenching her jaw, âit doesnât sound from the notebook that theyâre thinking about scaling back their experiments. Chances are, weâve got several other American or British POWs that underwent similar procedures and are being reintroduced into the country to do their bidding.â
âYesâ, Peggy agreed, frowning at the thought. Then, she shook her head. âBut not today. Today, youâre going to find the perfect dress!â
âŚâŚâŚâŚ
The quaint house stood in the middle of a large plot of land, and if Jack had to ever point to the definition of a house with a white picket fence, it would have been this house. It had everything one would draw on such a picture â trees in the garden, well-maintained flowers. A swing.
A swing? He looked at the wooden contraption. Yes, a swing. But Y/N was an only child â at least, she had been when she left for Europe. Oh well. âHere goes nothingâ. He fought the urge to abort the mission, to just go home and get married to the girl he wanted to marry without pulling this stunt â he knew she wouldnât have been mad at him for not doing it. But, once again, his stubborn self could not accept that her father was mad at her decision to leave for Europe. Even if it had taken Jack himself a minute to get around on that decision.
He sighed, and went to ring the doorbell.
First, no one answered the door. Looking through the window next to it, he saw that there was light burning in one of the rooms, so he assumed someone was in there. Then, through the window, he saw a kid walking towards him â maybe fifteen. Dark hair and dark eyes, he looked confused when he opened the door.
âYes? Can I help you?â, the boy asked.
âIâm looking for Mr. L/Nâ, Jack replied, âis he here?â
âHeâs upstairsâ, the boy replied, âwhoâs asking? I can get him.â
âJack Thompsonâ, Jack pulled out his SSR ID, âHe might remember me from when he lived in New York. I went to school with his daughter.â
âDad?â, the boy turned around and yelled upstairs, âsomeone here to see you! A federal agent!â
Jack heard the footsteps of Y/Nâs father descending the stairs. When he saw Jack in the doorframe, his face froze.
âYouâre the boy Y/N went to school and university withâ, he stated.
âYesâ, Jack nodded, shaking the manâs hand, âJack Thompson. Iâve worked with your daughter at the SSR after the war, too.â
An aura of darkness, perhaps of sorrow or nostalgia coated the manâs face. âSeems like she couldnât let it go.â
Jackâs eyebrows twitched upwards. âSir, her work saved countless lives. During her time in Germany, as well as during her time at the SSR. Most men would be happy settling for half of her record.â
Mr. L/N pressed his lips together. âAnd you came here to bring me the notice of her passing? Is that it? Your sworn duty as her commanding officer?â
âWhat?â, Jack frowned, âNo. Y/Nâs alive and well, sir. I came here to ask you to give your daughter the right to choose. She didnât have to serve. And yet, she did. And when she came back, she didnât have to work for an intelligence agency. And yet, she did. Hell, I didnât task her with half the crap she ended up pursuing at the SSR, and in hindsight, I should thank the Lord that she did. If it hadnât been for her, Iâd be dead.â
Mr. L/N looked over his shoulder, at the boy still standing there. âGive us a moment, Rich.â Then, he stepped outside, alone, to face Jack.
âMr. Thompson, when Y/N decided to head to England, her mother already knew that she was sick. She just didnât tell Y/N right away. We didnât want her to go, because we already knew weâd lose someone within the next years. Before she could tell Y/N, she was on her way to England.â He sounded bitter, angry, because that meant that his only child had left him alone.
âSir, I get that this mustâve hurt, I doâ, Jack clenched his jaw, âbut we were all asked to make a sacrifice. We were asked to take up arms and run head first into enemy lines if need be. So yes, your family was ruined by war, even though Y/N came back, and for that, I am sorry. But how many families lost multiple children to the war, how many families were torn apart? She tried to do what was right, and she did a fine job.â He paused. âSo I ask, is that resentment really worth ruining the chance of salvaging the relationship you could still have to your daughter? Because she left you in order to serve her country?â For once, he managed not to raise his voice to a hostile level, but he nonetheless stared down Mr. L/N.
âMr. Thompsonâ, he said slowly, carefully, âWhy did you come here?â
Jack huffed. âI came here to tell you that on February 19th, Y/N L/N will become Misses Y/N Thompson. She was convinced that you would not want to be at her wedding. I came here to ask you myself. And you can say no, but I wanted to give you the chance to not lose your daughter. Yes, she went to war, and yes, she came back different. But she came back. And if you let her, you can have her back, too.â
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
February 19th was the date Jack had suggested. Y/N knew why that date meant something to him. It was the day he went to hell â February 19th, 1945, had been the day he landed on Iwo Jima. That day would always remain a black mark in his calendar, but this way, he took it back. It would no longer be the worst day of his life, it would be the best day of his life, too. Simply put, it would become the most meaningful day, good and bad, in his life.
Y/N had eventually found a dress â its long sleeves made up by a delicate lace, a deep v-neckline that, nonetheless, was modest, albeit a bit a different cut from the standard dresses. The A-line skirt allowed for easy movement, but did not consist of so much fabric that it would turn into a tripping hazard. Looking in the mirror, she saw Peggy smile at her from behind. Y/N herself didnât manage to smile. She felt like she was staring at someone else entirely.
âYou look stunning, Y/N. Absolutely gorgeous!â, Peggy stated and added with a smile, âWhat exactly Jack Thompson did to deserve you, I shall never know.â
Y/N couldnât help but to grin at that remark. She knew that Peggy and Jack had started off â and continued for a long while â on the wrong foot.
âHe really was a prick after the war, huhâ, Y/N huffed, pulling the fabric around her neckline into place.
âThe worst part is â at least he had somewhat of an explanation for itâ, Peggy lamented, âBut how many others are just as bad as he was and arenât as marked by the years we spent abroad?â
âPeg, I am sorry to inform you, but if you want to live in a world without being degraded by our wonderful male co-workersâ, Y/N said, turning to face the brunette with a cynical smile, âThen you were born at least two hundred years too early.â
âWell, someone has to pave the way, and I suppose, for the time being, thatâll have to be the two of us â and in all fairness, we have come a long way within the SSRâ, Peggy replied, and Y/N nodded with one eyebrow raised.
âI suppose we have. Though youâve had it significantly worse than I did. I was never accused of treason, or kicked out, or blackmailed with another personâs fileâ, Y/N said dryly.
âIndeed, the accusation of treason mostly came from my now-husband, I was kicked out by Chief Dooley, and blackmailed by Chief Thompsonâ, she recounted, laughing, âI suppose now Iâve gotten a beating from all the Chiefs, so maybe I am good now.â
âYou better be, considering youâll be heading a new organisation soonâ, Y/N winked, âunless you go against yourself â youâve got only Howard Stark to fear, and I think he has better things to do than to go after you. A suggestion from me â he should invest in a better vault. And security system.â
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
âMr. Thompson!â, Jack looked over his shoulder as he was walking back to his car when he saw the kid from before running towards him.
âCan I help you, kid?â, he asked, turning around with an eyebrow raised.
âDad never mentioned that Y/N was still aliveâ, the boy said, âHe also never said that she was dead, now that I think about it. I guess, I just explained it away, given that she was never here.â He held out his hand: âIâm Rich. Iâm Y/Nâs stepbrother.â
Stepbrother. That made sense. A son from a previous marriage, whose father either had died, or was so absent that he had started to call Mr. L/N dad.
âPleasure to meet you, Rich.â
âWhat is she like?â
Jack knew that he meant it as a completely innocent question, but to him, it was loaded with the memories of about fifteen years that he had, in one way or another, spent with Y/N. He didnât even know where to begin with. How should he explain to this kid what a person Y/N was?
âY/Nâ, he eventually said, elongating her name in the search for words, âSheâs, uhm, probably the bravest, kindest, and strongest person Iâve ever met. Words donât do her justice.â
âDad hardly ever mentioned her â you said that she served⌠where did she serve? Dad didnât seem thrilled about it.â
Jack knew that it wasnât his story to tell â the spying, the entire tale of Y/Nâs time in Germany, but he also wanted to convey to this boy that his âdadâ was dead-wrong for having been upset at his daughter, so he decided to rub it right in his face. âShe fought against the Nazis. She spent the war in Europe. Thatâs why she left.â
It had the effect he had wanted â Richâs mouth fell open as he stared at Jack in disbelief. âWhat? Thatâs awesome!â
âYeah, wellâ, Jack gave him a lopsided grin and nodded towards the house behind them, âtell that to your dad, will ya, kid?â
âI will, sir!â Jack almost pulled a face at the kid calling him âsirâ. Only the pencil pushers in the SSR called him that, and even they only rarely did. Most of them just called him âChiefâ. The last time he was called âsirâ right, left and centre was back in the military.
âSee you around, Rich.â
âŚâŚâŚâŚ
When Y/N returned, she wasnât surprised when Jack was not at either her or his place â though their time at the SSR was coming to an end, he still didnât like to let go off the wheel entirely just yet. So she headed to the office, where her search was indeed successful.
Entering the office, she felt the eyes of the men inside it on her.
Raising an eyebrow and putting her hands on her hips, she paused. âIs something the matter, gentlemen?â
âWe knew about you leaving the SSR together with the Chief, but he only now mentioned that youâll soon be marriedâ, Goldberg eventually said, causing Y/N to raise her other eyebrow as she laughed.
âYes, Iâm sorry for myself, too.â
âHey!â She grinned at Jack whose head popped out of the bullpen as he shook his head: âUnbelievable.â
âCongratulations, Y/N. Canât say I saw that coming when you had your first day here, I thought youâd be more likely his murderer than his wife, but I stand corrected.â
Y/N laughed at Goldbergâs not entirely wrong analysis of hers and Jackâs first meeting post-war.
âWhat can I sayâ, she said, âweâve never done things traditionally. That applies professionally as well as privately, it would seem.â
âI swear, if you now start telling them about our yesteryears, Iâll fire you on the spotâ, Jack warned jokingly, âI want to upkeep my reputation for my next job.â
Y/N huffed: âI have no idea what youâre getting at, Jack. Your drinking escapades aside, and your unbelievable ability to make enemies, you were a straight-A student all your life.â And both of these aspects of his personality werenât all that well-hidden, though, perhaps, his subordinates merely got to see the surface of both.
In fact, that was perhaps one of Jack Thompsonâs most proficient traits. He had the capability to adapt to his environment, mould himself into whatever people expected from a person in his situation, put his own personality on the backburner in order to climb the ladder. He had always wanted to be the best â the best at maths, the best at sports, the best at anything he ever did, and heâd do anything to succeed. That didnât necessarily mean to push others out the way, it certainly meant he fought hard to be better than the next guy, but as harsh as he was to others, he was at least ten times harsher with himself. He was able to build up a wall to reinforce himself to be ready to take on a world that had been incredibly hostile in their lifetime. They had experienced an economic crash and an economic recovery, they had experienced the worst war the world had ever seen. Not only that, but they had fought in it. And then they had come back to a country where they felt like strangers, only to realise that they had to second-guess every person around them. His wall of anger and of sarcasm and rudeness, it was also a wall of hard work, of doubt and of a deep conviction to want to serve this country. It was the wall that only very few got to ever climb, and Y/N was perhaps the one person who knew every brick in the wall.
To understand Jack Thompson was to understand the environment he operated in. Thatâs how itâs always been â he had been a different person when they were surrounded by other students as he was when he was with his family. He was different when being the SSR Chief, or her fiancĂŠ. Essentially, he grew up in a society that valued first and foremost the outcome, rather than the means. And the outcome society valued most was success. That might come across as greedy or selfish, but Y/N knew â at heart, he still did it all with good intentions. He wouldnât ever back out of a fight in fear over his own life. He was willing to die for his job. And he didnât trust many others to do a better job than he did himself. Again, this might sound selfish and arrogant to many, but Y/N had seen âthe othersâ. Men like Vernon Masters, Calvin Chadwick and so on. They were just as ambitious, but they were cowards. They were willing to sacrifice others for their own success. He was willing to sacrifice himself.
And that, Y/N thought to herself, is why Iâm going to marry him â to keep that part of him controlled. Because as much as she admired him for his willingness to give his all for cause and country â she really didnât want him to become a martyr. She didnât need for him to become the next Captain America. She was fine with him just being a good man, a man with a long list of flaws and a record of mistakes.
She could not ever imagine being with someone as literally flawless as Steve Rogers â then, she would feel like an absolute imposter. She had just as long a list of flaws and mistakes.
Thatâs why it worked. They needed each other â and in a sense, they always had.
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A huge, huuuuuge thank you @clinicallydepressedreader for - you know - taking the time to tell me that you enjoy my fic, through a comment and your tags. I cannot tell you how much that means and how much it brightens my day! It was clear to me from the start that itâll be a fic for a small group, but itâs people like you I enjoy writing for, not numbersđ¤
Jack Thompson X Reader
What Lies Before Us, Chapter 18
Previous Chapters
A/N: Apologies for the long pause. I actually had this chapter in reserve but never got around to publishing it. What made me publish it today was A) time and B) the lovely, lovely words by @clinicallydepressedreader under one of the previous chapters. Thanks, my dear! Itâs people like you that make this more than worth it. I am so honoured to have had that impact on your perception on Jack - truly, it means the world! The characters are actually the most difficult part for me to get right (in terms of the canon timelines and their stories) because the historical background, well⌠my full-time job is researching the 1930s/1940s in Germany. That certainly helped!
âClear.â
The room hadnât been made by room service, who had adhered to the sign outside the door asking for privacy.
âThose are the plans Elias had handed over to themâ, Y/N pointed to the desk, recognising the blueprints from Peggyâs descriptions.
âWasnât one for much private stuffâ, Jack commented. They found no pictures, only the absolute necessities. Crouching down next to the bed, Jack saw something buried below the mattress.
âWannabe spyâ, he commented sarcastically, pulling out a notebook.
Projekt Kriegerblut
HYDRA, Abteilung Forschung fĂźr Neurologie und Psychoanalytik
BETA-Proband M.C.
Start Behandlung: September 1940
Y/N had noticed him reading something. âYou found something?â
âHard to say, what does ��Kriegerblutâ mean?â
âWarriorâs bloodâ, Y/N frowned, âWhy?â He handed her the notebook.
âI think that could link to your friend there.â
Y/Nâs eyes scanned the pages. âIf that refers to Carter, then lord help us, given that heâs only the beta candidate. Means that somewhere out there, they have a more finalised candidate. One that does, whatever the intent is, better than our manâ, she stated, flipping through the pages. Most were notes by doctors about the change in brain scans after repeated torture and electroshock âtherapyâ.
âWhat does it say?â, Jack asked impatiently.
âShhhâ, she hushed, âI gotta first read it!â
Loading all the evidence into their car, Y/N continued her lecture whilst Jack started driving to Sousaâs location.
âUnbelievableâ, Y/N eventually whispered, âthat is actually unbelievable.â
âWhat is it?â, Jackâs eyes met hers for a split-second, so he saw her deep concern.
âIf whatever they are describing here is factualâ, she began, âthen they are attempting to manipulate individuals, basically rewiring their brains to become assassins devoid of will.â
âAbsolute mind control?â, he asked in disbelief, âthatâs impossible. Thatâs gotta be impossible.â Taking over someone temporarily by creating a momentary delusion as had been the case in Fennhoffâs technique was one thing, rewiring someoneâs brain fundamentally an entirely different.
Y/N raised an eyebrow: âI hope so, too, but then again, I guess people in the French Revolution wouldâve said the same thing about the atomic bomb falling out of freaking planes.â
Keep reading
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Jack Thompson X Reader
What Lies Before Us, Chapter 18
Previous Chapters
A/N: Apologies for the long pause. I actually had this chapter in reserve but never got around to publishing it. What made me publish it today was A) time and B) the lovely, lovely words by @clinicallydepressedreader under one of the previous chapters. Thanks, my dear! Itâs people like you that make this more than worth it. I am so honoured to have had that impact on your perception on Jack - truly, it means the world! The characters are actually the most difficult part for me to get right (in terms of the canon timelines and their stories) because the historical background, well... my full-time job is researching the 1930s/1940s in Germany. That certainly helped!
âClear.â
The room hadnât been made by room service, who had adhered to the sign outside the door asking for privacy.
âThose are the plans Elias had handed over to themâ, Y/N pointed to the desk, recognising the blueprints from Peggyâs descriptions.
âWasnât one for much private stuffâ, Jack commented. They found no pictures, only the absolute necessities. Crouching down next to the bed, Jack saw something buried below the mattress.
âWannabe spyâ, he commented sarcastically, pulling out a notebook.
Projekt Kriegerblut
HYDRA, Abteilung Forschung fĂźr Neurologie und Psychoanalytik
BETA-Proband M.C.
Start Behandlung: September 1940
Y/N had noticed him reading something. âYou found something?â
âHard to say, what does âKriegerblutâ mean?â
âWarriorâs bloodâ, Y/N frowned, âWhy?â He handed her the notebook.
âI think that could link to your friend there.â
Y/Nâs eyes scanned the pages. âIf that refers to Carter, then lord help us, given that heâs only the beta candidate. Means that somewhere out there, they have a more finalised candidate. One that does, whatever the intent is, better than our manâ, she stated, flipping through the pages. Most were notes by doctors about the change in brain scans after repeated torture and electroshock âtherapyâ.
âWhat does it say?â, Jack asked impatiently.
âShhhâ, she hushed, âI gotta first read it!â
Loading all the evidence into their car, Y/N continued her lecture whilst Jack started driving to Sousaâs location.
âUnbelievableâ, Y/N eventually whispered, âthat is actually unbelievable.â
âWhat is it?â, Jackâs eyes met hers for a split-second, so he saw her deep concern.
âIf whatever they are describing here is factualâ, she began, âthen they are attempting to manipulate individuals, basically rewiring their brains to become assassins devoid of will.â
âAbsolute mind control?â, he asked in disbelief, âthatâs impossible. Thatâs gotta be impossible.â Taking over someone temporarily by creating a momentary delusion as had been the case in Fennhoffâs technique was one thing, rewiring someoneâs brain fundamentally an entirely different.
Y/N raised an eyebrow: âI hope so, too, but then again, I guess people in the French Revolution wouldâve said the same thing about the atomic bomb falling out of freaking planes.â
âSo, what, he doesnât know who he is? So weâre talking to an empty shell now, lacking the chip on the shoulder with the puppet master dead?â, Jack inquired, still not entirely convinced that whatever they had found could actually be reality.
âDo I look like I have experience with Nazi mind control?â, Y/N asked back with a huff, âAll I can say is what they reported here. The candidate was captured in summer of 1940, and is described as a âEuropean individual in his mid-20s of healthy statusâ. Age and time of capture would coincide with Michaelâs presumed death, and well, thereâs the matching initials. Apparently, he was candidate 19, and the only one not to die in the process. He was tortured for months, Jack.â
âSorry if my sympathy is not overflowing just yet. The guy tried to kill you not even five hours ago, Y/N!â
âYes, with an emphasis on triedâ, Y/N agreed, âbut weâre all alive, the kidâs fine, and I only have a bandage and a nasty gash to remind me. Had a scar there anyways, so never mind.â She exhaled. âWhatâs my concern now is that we need someone⌠someone we can trust who has experience with this sorta thing. I know absolutely no one that fits the bill. You?â
âNeither.â
âThen letâs hope the old trick of hitting him hard enough on the head worksâ, Y/N commented dryly, âIâm not betting on getting help from the one mind-control expert weâve come across in the last two years in the form of Fennhoff.â
Once more, silence returned to their car. Y/N knew he was upset, it was written all across his face.
âAre you angry that I didnât shoot him, are you pissed I didnât let him shoot the kid, or are you angry that weâre headed to see a possible mad man right now?â, she asked, tilting her head, âor is it all of the above?â
âIâm not angry.â
âYesâ, Y/N snorted, âyou are in a glorious mood.â
âNo, Iâm notâ, he agreed, âbut Iâm not angry. Iâm just waiting for this campaign to be over. It feels like since Starkâs disappearance last year, weâve been chasing boogiemen across the globe and every time we think weâre done, it just continues.â
âI knowâ, Y/N said quietly, âIâm tired, too.â She swallowed: âBut we canât just ditch now, can we? I mean, you saw Peggyâs face in there. We canât just leave her and Sousa with someone â or something â of which we have no idea what heâs capable of.â
âYeahâ, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, âI know.â Clenching his jaw, he accepted his fate, and his mind returned to duty. âHowâd you think we interrogate him? If that file is correct, I doubt heâll react much to the stick.â
Y/N nodded. âProbably he wonât, yeahâ, pressing her lips together, âagain, I have no knowledge of how to de-programme someone like that. I suppose reconnecting with his past, with his identity would be an avenue. To turn him from Candidate 19 back to Michael Carter.â
âBut only Peggy knew him back thenâ, he interjected, âshe canât interrogate him! Thatâs bound to fail.â
âWhy, because itâs her brother?â, Y/N raised an eyebrow.
Jack looked at her as if asking that question was a crime all by itself. âYesâ, he hissed, âbecause heâs her brother!â
âYou knowâ, Y/N said with a grin, âNow I know why she always butted heads with you. You and him? You could be related. And from what she told me about him, I think even some of the character traits line up.â
He looked offended: âThatâs harsh.â
âYou met a monsterâ, she objected, âI doubt he was like that when they were playing knights in the garden.â
Now, he laughed. âDoesnât surprise me one bit. Couldnât imagine Marge being a princess.â
âŚâŚâŚâŚ
âRose?â, Y/N asked when they approached the cellar in which Sousa had handcuffed Carter to an interrogation table, âhowâs everyone?â
Rose gave her a telling look: âEveryone is just in shock.â
âIs Sousa with him?â, Jack asked and Rose nodded, pointing to the room where they could sit in to the interrogation from behind the one-way mirror.
âPeggy in there?â, Y/N asked, and Rose nodded again.
âGimme a secondâ, Y/N said to Jack and left to enter the room. âPeggy?â
The woman sat on the desk, legs crossed. She didnât look sad, or like she had cried. She looked completely blank as her eyes flickered over to Y/N.
âHowâs your arm?â
âFine.â
Y/N sat next to her, looking into the interrogation room.
âWhat have I missed?â, she asked silently.
âNothingâ, Peggy said bitterly, âheâs said absolutely nothing.â
âI would have guessed soâ, Y/N said, deciding to be upfront, âJack discovered a notebook in Kellerâs room. We werenât sure if it was referring to him, but the evidence all points in that direction. If we are correct, then HYDRA reprogrammed his brain. A sort of mind control. They detailed how they got him to that point, but unfortunately, nothing of how to reverse it.â
âMind control?â, Peggy asked, forcing herself to look away from Michael, now facing Y/N. Y/N could practically see her trying to pull herself together.
âYeah, but different than what Fennhoff did with people like Chief Dooley. Itâs much more⌠fundamentalâ, Y/N tried to explain, âI read it just now on our way here. It was pain-based. Peggy, the details donât matter that much, but theyâve tortured him for months. It took months for them to drill him into a tool. He became Kandidat 19 â Keller addressed him in that way, too. It would seem that by the time they were done with him, heâd fall into bouts of servitude.â She paused. âBut he isnât perfect. He was referred to as the BETA candidate. In some of the notes, they described how heâd fall out of his trance mid-mission or not act out the actions they wanted him to do in as miniscule detail as they would have liked. I think they decided to make several changes for their next generation of candidates, something with trigger words. I donât know what they wouldâve changed, but they didnât do that with Michael.â
Peggy remained silent for a while. The door opened and Jack entered, nodding at Peggy.
âDo you think I can get through to him, Y/N?â, Peggy asked. Y/N felt helpless â She had nothing to base this upon. She was forced to answer a question she couldnât have known the answer to.
âI believe we will not leave any stone unturnedâ, Y/N spoke eventually. âDooley got out of his trance somehow. There must be a way to break this, too, even if it takes more than Jack banging against a door.â
âYou think itâs some sort of drill, right?â, Jack asked Y/N, to which she only nodded. âThen itâs most likely connected to self-discipline, right? I dunno, maybe some sort of learnt behaviour that was reinforced by HYDRA, disobedience means torture, so self-discipline is a self-protection.â
Y/N remained quiet because she wanted to know where he was headed with this.
âWell, if it is, then we need to break down his ability to self-discipline.â He said it so matter-of-fact that Y/N had to glance to Peggy, only to see that the brunette also didnât seem to know what Jack was getting at.
âAnd how do you suspect we do that, Doctor?â, Y/N asked, crossing her arms.
Jack looked at her with a deadpan look: âItâs my suggestion. Itâs gonna involve alcohol. Isnât that your rationale for hardly touching that stuff?â
âYou wanna get him drunk?â, Y/N said, not knowing if he was kidding.
âYou got a better idea? Itâs probably less harmful than some of the harder drugs out thereâ, he shrugged.
Y/N turned to Peggy: âThoughts?â
âHe finds gin repulsiveâ, she said sarcastically, âyou better get whiskey.â
âSee?â, Y/N said with a grin looking at Thompson, âI knew you two share similarities!â He shot her a venomous glare.
âYou donât happen to have a bottle in the trunk, do you?â, she asked sarcastically, causing him to open his mouth in offence.
âDâyou think Iâm an alcoholic over here?â
âNah, I told you before, itâs gotten much betterâ, she shrugged with a smile, âbut I was just checking. Iâll get us the goods.â
âŚâŚâŚâŚ
When they informed Daniel about the plan, he looked at Thompson and L/N as if they were from outer space.
âThatâs your plan?â, he asked, just to be sure he didnât miss a part, âYouâll get him drunk?â
âYesâ, Thompson confirmed.
âMy badâ, Sousaâs tone was mocking, âHere I thought we were the Strategic Scientific Reserve, not the college fraternity admitting another member into our ranks of crazy.â
âIf you happened to have gathered some intel about German mind control techniques in the trenches of Bastogne, by all means, dogfaceâ, Thompson huffed, âSpeak up.â
Sousa rolled his eyes at the insult. âYou know, if thereâs one thing the likes of you have in common â itâs that they will go above and beyond to remind the rest of the servicemen that theyâre Marines.â
Jack slapped him on the shoulder: âNaturally. We did the legwork for it. Donât worry, we made even more fun of the swab-jockeys than your kind.â
Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. âI guess that referred to the poor sailors that had to work beside you.â
âHowâd you guess?â, Jack asked, knowing that sheâd probably not have had contact with many members from the Navy during her time in the European theatre.
âBelieve it or not, but the distain you had on your face when you spoke to Luke who has been in the Navy was a clear indicator that you donât hold them in the highest of regardsâ, she replied, âmight have just been Luke, though, and just a lucky guess this time around.â
He winked: âTo us, the US Navy was the Marineâs taxi service.â
âOh my God, way to boast about your choice of branchâ, she rolled her eyes amusedly, âCâmon, warrior of God, weâre off to meet Rose and the kid. They left for another safehouse an hour ago.â
âWhat, weâre not leaving Carter with Sousa and Carter!â, he objected, âbesides, last time I checked, Iâm the most senior interrogator.â
âYeahâ, she raised an eyebrow at him, âand Iâve seen my share of drunk people for this month. Whatâs your point?â That remark gave her the reaction she had intended for it to generate â slight embarrassment â as she added: âBesides, heâs cuffed to a table, and we tied down his feet. Weâll put the bunker on lockdown and youâll need a password to unlock it, so he canât get out.â She grabbed him by the arm: âNow get going or I swear I will always and forever refer to as a soldier.â
âŚâŚâŚ
âWeâre not leaving just to check on the other two, are we?â, Jack asked in the car.
Y/N took notice that he had correctly deducted that from her previous behaviour.
âI think that we shouldnât be listening in on whatever Peggy has to say to possibly get through to himâ, she confirmed quietly, âPeggyâs usually very quiet when itâs about her private life, particularly the one she had before the war.â
âShe told you about Michaelâ, he pointed out, âyouâre sure itâs about us listening in, and not just about me listening in?â He shot her a side-glance before returning to the road.
Y/N studied his face. He didnât seem hurt by the implication, but that didnât mean that he wasnât.
âNoâ, she disagreed, âI knew very little about her life, despite having lived with her. I knew that she had a brother and she showed me a few pictures, and she told me that she didnât have a particularly cordial relationship to her mother. Found her too boyish. I guess the problematic family relations were a point for us to bond over.â She sighed: âIâm sure she wouldâve told you if⌠well. Itâs always harder to say these things to people who come from a family thatâs intact. It makes you mourn your losses all over again.â Once she had uttered the words, she realised how utterly sad they had sounded, which was reflected on Jackâs concerned face.
âI donât feel that way when Iâm with your familyâ, she added quickly, âI have known them for what seems like my entire life.â
He cleared his throat, taking his hand off the clutch for a moment to grab her left hand and grazing the ring on her finger: âTheyâll be your family, too.â
âŚâŚâŚ.
Entering the other safehouse, which was an unused office building formerly used by the SSR, Elias and Rose were chatting in one of the rooms, evidently about how American and German pies were nothing alike.
Y/N shot Jack a glance. He raised an eyebrow and remarked: âDidnât take the kid to be a baker.â
âNeither.â
Hearing their voices, Rose and Elias watched them enter.
âAgent L/N, how is your arm?â
âDonât worryâ, she waved her hand, âUnlike the SSR men, I used my arm to take it, not my sternum.â
âAnd you accuse me of braggingâ, Jack complained with a grin that he couldnât quite wipe off his face.
âOh pleaseâ, Y/N rolled her eyes, âIâm actually surprised you didnât get one of those dodgy tattoos during service. Well, I suppose you make up for it verbally.â
She could see the thoughts spinning in Eliasâ face, when she realised that to him, they were Chief Thompson of the NY SSR, and Agent L/N from the NY SSR. Peggy and Daniel had probably seen no need to mention the fact that there was a private dimension to their relationship, hence, her remarks must have come across as incredibly rude for a simple subordinate.
âDonât worryâ, she said in German with a grin, âheâs my fiancĂŠ. Iâm the one person in this agency thatâs allowed to be honest with him.â
âWhat?â, Jack asked when Elias started laughing.
âNothingâ, Y/N said in a sing-song-voice, âAsked him if he enjoyed his experience in the field today.â
Jack didnât believe a word of what she was saying and eyed her suspiciously. âSure.â
âChief Sousa called a moment ago, something about a reportâ, Rose spoke up, âHe said you two will know what to do.â
âYeah, thatâs a nice term for filing dutyâ, Y/N remarked dryly, âAbout the mission.â
She looked around, searching for a desk. âHow about this, Iâll do the filing, youâ, she turned to Jack, âfind us something to eat. Iâm starving.â
âYou volunteer to do the filing?â, he asked, acting shocked.
âI can be nice from time to timeâ, she grinned, âDeal?â
âYou bet!â
âŚâŚâŚâŚ
âSo you two are headed back to New York soon?â, Elias asked over dinner, which were burgers, because, as Jack had explained, that was the most convenient to get into the car.
Y/N looked over to Jack. âYes, at least for a while.â
âWeâre leaving the SSRâ, Jack shared, causing Rose to almost drop her food.
âWHAT?â, she exclaimed, âWhoâs going to take care of the east, then?!â
Y/N chuckled at her panic. âDonât worry, Rose. The SSR will be in the best of hands. Perhaps the most capable hands it could ever want. Isnât that right, Thompson?â
He rolled his eyes at the teasing tone in her voice. âYeah, yeah.â
âCarterâs going to be in chargeâ, Y/N said to explain, âshe, Colonel Philips and Howard Stark will restructure the SSR.â
Rose pursed her lips, before smiling brightly: âThat sounds exciting!â
âYes, for your sake, I hope Starkâs not too involvedâ, Jack scoffed, âotherwise, the new offices might explode. Or implode. Itâs concerning both happened before.â
âOh, come onâ, Y/N shook her head, âHe was involved in almost all the biggest scientific developments of the last decades. And those functioned as intended. At least most of them.â
âI am also very confident that his rocket programme will turn out to be a successâ, Elias said with a small smile, âwho knows, Stark tech might just be the first man-made thing to land on the moon.â
âThe moon?â, Jack asked, not convinced. âYeah, sure. Why not.â
âYes, he intends to send a manned rocket to the moonâ, Elias nodded, âthatâs why he hired me, amongst others.â
âGreatâ, Thompson scoffed, âmake it a one-way ticket and Iâll support it.â
Y/N laughed: âI said to Peggy that youâd say that.â
âIf youâre leaving the SSR, whatâs next for Chief Thompson and Agent L/N?â, Rose asked curiously.
âThe CIA is looking for people with experience to build up their rowsâ, Jack said, âthey were quick to offer us a position.â
âWith the new division of responsibility amongst the intelligence services, the SSR wonât be able to act with the level of freedom it was able to in the war and up until Septemberâ, Y/N added, âand things in Europe and Asia only seem to become more volatile again. Might be of use to work for the agency thatâll be able to work on the ground.â
She saw Eliasâ concerned face. âDo you still have family there?â
âIn Germany?â, he shrugged, âI have no idea. Parts of them lived in East Prussia. I havenât heard from them since late 1944 â so I assume, no. I donât anymore.â
Y/Nâs face fell at the mention of that, again conflicted by the fact that enemies were human, too. She had taught herself to see them primarily as targets, as inherently different to her, to her friends, and therefore, killing them became easier. Was sympathy with a people that had committed atrocities too horrible to even comprehend even possible? Was it morally wrong? It felt nearly impossible to her to reconcile these seemingly juxtaposed positions.
âY/N, did you come across HYDRA when working in Germany?â, Rose asked to change the topic.
The woman shook her head: âNo, fortunately not. I was preoccupied with more â well â normal Nazis, though that is an oxymoron in my opinion.â
âI remind you that you didnât get to experience the joy of searching for snakes in your foxholeâ, Jack interjected, and Y/N knew he did only to redirect the conversation away from her service, for which she was grateful. She had no interest in sharing war stories with the brother of the guy she killed.
âYou did not serve in Europe?â, Elias asked, seemingly confused.
âNahâ, Jack pulled a face, âsomeone had to fight the good fight in the Pacific, too.â
Once they had finished their meal, Jack began to organise for Rose and Elias to get onto the next plane back to L.A., which resulted in them heading to the airport just a short while later. Y/N accompanied the two of them outside to the taxi, followed by Thompson. She hugged Rose goodbye before turning to the scientist.
âThank you, Eliasâ, she said, shaking his hand. âYouâre a good kid.â
âMadame, I love my brother. Perhaps, I loved him more than any other person in the world. But if one thing was taught to us since our earliest youth, it is that war is brutal. It was the brutality we were taught to idolise. I suppose that means accepting the reality that others will wage war upon us, too.â
She watched him enter the car, wondering where his path would lead him to. She sincerely hoped that, wherever it would, the destination would be more peaceful than his youth had been.
âThatâs why you wanted to be the one to escort himâ, Jack stated quietly, standing next to her. âTo amend.â
âI cannot amend itâ, she said, watching the car leave. âBut it would seem that he has given me all I can ask for. Acceptance.â
Jack followed her gaze. If that kid was able to accept her decisions, accept her actions â then for Godâs sake, why would her father not be capable of doing the same? He would marry Y/N. And despite their relationship being distant, he at least wanted them to not hate each other.
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Jack Thompson X Reader
What Lies Before Us
Masterlist (previous book, previous chapter)
A/N: Tagged people, could you please let me know IF you were tagged??
Chapter 17
When Y/N woke up the next morning, Jack had already gone.
Was she surprised? No. Was she amused? Also, no.
She was at the SSR office by 9, a perfectly reasonable time to start the day. Unless your name was Jack, that is. The first agent who she encountered was Agent Goldberg.
âMorning, Agent Goldbergâ, she said, giving him a nod, âanything happened yesterday?â
âWe got sent some testimonies from the SSR office in Chicago for the men they apprehendedâ, Goldberg informed her, âI gave the files to the Chief an hour ago.â
âI seeâ, she said, raising an eyebrow. Testimonies were good, of course, but they werenât necessarily time-sensitive. So, it turned out, it really didnât mean Armageddon to leave for one night.
âLate night?â
She shot Goldberg an offended look: âAgent Goldberg, if you want to tell me I look tired today, just say it straight to my face!â
âWhat?â, he first looked confused, but when he understood what she meant he had wanted to say, he looked rather embarrassed: âNo, I didnât mean it like that!â
Now, Y/N looked confused: âWhat?â
âYou look â you look how you always lookâ, Goldberg replied a bit awkwardly.
âYou mean Thompson?â, she raised an eyebrow and huffed, âhonestly, I donât even try anymore. By this point, he runs on caffeine. Which reminds me â I guess I shouldnât be late for my first coffee round of the day.â
After serving all the regular argents roaming around in the main hall, she made her way to the bullpen. The blinds were drawn, which normally indicated the chief wanted privacy, but she argued that A) that didnât apply to his fiancĂŠe and B) didnât apply to his coffee delivery, and given she combined both, that was grounds to ignore it.
âMorning, Chiefâ, she said when pushing the door open, seeing Thompson hover the files that, she assumed, Goldberg had given to him previously.
He huffed in acknowledgement, staring intently on the documents before him.
âSomeoneâs in a peachy moodâ, she commented as she began filling up his coffee cup. âWhat, you lost the ability to say thank you?â
He looked over to the cup she had placed before him. âThanks.â
She raised an eyebrow. âDid I hit you in your sleep or whatâs bitten you?â
âItâs nothing.â Four words in total â that was very few for a person usually never shy of a dry sarcastic comment. Hell, he didnât even tell her that she should knock before entering. She was just about to point that out to him when his nose started twitching, he fumbled out a handkerchief from his coat and sneezed into it. Y/N didnât need to see his face to know that this was just the odd sneeze anyone can have now and then, the handkerchief looked used. But yes, his red nose would have made the gathering of such obscure clues obsolete.
âBless you.â Her voice was tauntingly even, because she knew he knew what she was thinking. I told you so.
âItâs nothing.â
âYou know, if you had been able to speak when you were shot, Iâm pretty sure you wouldâve said that, tooâ, Y/N commented dryly.
He rolled his eyes at her, which â in hindsight â was a mistake, because that meant direct eye contact with someone who was not having his crap today. He had the misfortune of getting rather light-sensitive eyes when having a cold, which caused them to be watery. âYou donât seriously compare the sniffles to a gunshot wound.â
âNo, that would be unfair to the gunshot wound, as the fact that opening the door to a stranger is less directly linked in getting shot than running on three hours of sleep for several weeks is to a shit immune systemâ, she shrugged.
âYou done with your lecture?â, he huffed, returning to short phrases because he could hear his voice getting hoarse.
âDependsâ, she replied, âare you done being stupid?â
âItâs a coldâ, he muttered, âAnd we have work to do.â
âYesâ, she agreed, âthat, we do. I can read through their testimonies, though. Iâll write the report, hand that to you and do the filing. My filingâs better than yours anyways.â
He was about to open his mouth to reply, which was cut short by another sneeze.
Y/N decided that sheâd switch gears, from convincing him with pure sarcasm with an appeal to reason. âCome on Jack, this is pointless! I can take care of this. And if something should occur thatâs urgent, Iâll call you back in.â
He was not going home because of a cold â it was a cold, not the freaking black death!
âIâm about to actually get madâ, Y/N announced with a sigh, âI didnât say anything the last weeks because I know you, and you wouldnât have listened, because thatâs just nothing you do, right? But so help me God, just to the reasonable thing now. You have a team of more-or-less capable agents out there, and I will read the testimonies. Iâll clock out at five and tell you about them.â She picked up the file, lowered herself down to his desk, putting her apartment key on the table and staring him down: âEnd of discussion.â
He was about to reply that they didnât have a discussion in the first place, but then she had already left his office. He contemplated ignoring her, after all, he was the Chief, but then, he really didnât want to actually make her angry. So there he sat, debating his options, only realising after a solid minute that he had been robbed of the task of reading the testimonies. Hence, he was just sitting in his office doing nothing. After the next bout of sneezing had subsided, he surrendered â whether to his own stubbornness or Y/Nâs order, he didnât know. Probably both.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ..
âDid you see the Chief?â, Agent Ramirez asked Agent Goldberg, who only shrugged.
âI saw him today morning, but not ever since. Ask L/N, she talked to him after me.â
Y/N had heard their interaction from afar, and looked at Ramirez: âHe had personal business to attend to. Why?â
âI had his report readyâ, Ramirez shrugged, âIâll just put it in his office, then. Will he be back, later?â
âI donât knowâ, Y/N lied, âdidnât say.â
She knew Jack well enough to know that it was hard enough for him to know he was sick, but he really didnât want others to know, too. So she decided in his stead to sell a load of bull to Ramirez. The day was quiet, and Y/N had enough time to go through the testimonies thoroughly. Many of them told similar stories â especially those members that had been in the Arena Club for some while. That it had started as a conglomerate of influential men who wanted to tilt the odds in their favours, but during the war, and in the years after, some parts of the Club started to grow more interested in weaponry and the prospect of translating political and financial power into force. Most of them didnât mention HYDRA, and most of them had no idea what the Council of Nine was, what they had been up to with Zero Matter, or what the newest interests of the more radical faction of the Clubs were. It seemed to be structured like a crime family, if Y/N was honest. The lower members had no idea what the higher-ups were deciding, even if they still participated in the execution of the crimes. They also seemed to have no idea who Mr. Keller was.
When the clock hit 17:00, Y/N gathered up her things, the reports from the agents that they had left on Thompsonâs desk and said goodbye to the men from the nightshift. Then, she made her way to her place, as she assumed, given Jack had taken the keys she had placed on his desk before walking out on him, sheâd find him there.
With a spare key, she opened the door and was greeted by silence. Given his briefcase was on the floor, she still knew that she had guessed right.
Walking towards the kitchen, past her living room, she huffed. âWhat an idiot.â He couldâve taken the bed. It wasnât like she was there to be annoyed at it, anyways. But at least he did fall asleep â although the boredom of not having any work to do might have helped. She decided to let him sleep whilst entering the kitchen. She had learnt to cook at an early age, and if she had time to do it, she found it a rather relaxing pastime. Though lately, that rarely happened, so it was a welcome change.
âY/N?â, she eventually heard from the living room.
âI doubt a burglar would just hop in the kitchen to prepare dinner.â
She didnât even need to be in the same room as him to feel him rolling his eyes.
She brought him his dinner, which was a chicken soup. When looking at it, he raised his eyebrows: âIs that maâs recipe?â
âShe gave it to me years agoâ, Y/N confirmed with a smile, âmustâve been around 1938 or so.â
She decided to give him the rundown of the dayâs events at the office while he ate, from the testimonies and the reports from the other agents. âAll in all, things were quiet though. Also, I donât think anyone knew what happened to you. Maybe Goldberg has some suspicion, but when Ramirez asked about you, I said you had personal business to attend to.â
He snorted, which didnât really work that well with a stuffy nose, so he resorted to blowing it right after. âYou still use that line?â
âIt worked in high school, it worked at universityâ, she shrugged with a grin, âand somehow, our agents arenât that much brighter than the guys we studied with. So why fix what ainât broke?â
âThose things seem like lightyears away.â
Y/N pulled a face: âDo they, though? I mean, of course a ton has changed. The world has changed. We went to war, and we didnât come back the way we left. Back then, we fought over who got the better marks. But when it comes down to it? Weâre still the idiots from New York. We just save the country for a living, now.â
âYou make us sound way cooler than we areâ, he grinned, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
âWhat, you saved the city from poisonous gas. You rid the world of highly volatile space goo. We took down a Soviet master assassin. And now weâre taking down a club of power-hungry social animals with connections to HYDRA â donât know what your standards of cool are, but Iâd say we rank in the top ten percent, at leastâ, she tilted her head, âEspecially given we donât have the advantage of being near immortal like Steve Rogers was. Weâre just some random people that ended up being trained in war and unable to let go when coming back.â
âWhen dâyou realise youâd not come back the same?â, he asked earnestly, despite everything, very observant to her facial expression.
âI donât knowâ, she said truthfully, âat some point, I just knew. Thought of home, of my friends that worked at the home front. I donât want to diminish their work, they made ours possible. But I also knew that they couldnât relate to our experience. They felt robbed of their youth â wanted to experience that joy again. I suppose I realised that even when I would wake up in peace again, I still would never be able to forget about what peril looks like. I wouldnât be able to revert back to the silliness of a life that has been untouched by combat. By seeing death day in, day out. And not just to see the dead, but to see⌠see death. The men torn apart by bullets and shrapnel, to hear the cries of the dying. I suppose that is an experience no one can relate who hasnât been there, even those who had lost sons and brothers across the world.â
âHow did you end up as a spy, anyways? I get how Carter ended up with the SSR and Project Rebirth, but how did you end up in Germany?â
Y/N leaned back: âThatâs a long story. And probably not one to fall asleep to.â
âIâve slept the entire afternoonâ, he groaned, âI can spare one hour.â
Y/N gave him a long look, but quickly realised that just how uncompromising she had been in the morning, he was now.
âRightâ, she sighed, â1942, spring, I was being taught by the SOE for codebreaking, learning German for that. I picked up the language quite quickly, probably helped studying it a little at university. During that time, they were debating sending in English agents to support the French spying missions on the ground, especially since they couldnât support the allies on European territory with soldiers. They recruited from their own ranks, but they werenât that successful.â She laughed dryly: âMaybe didnât help that we knew just how high the fatality rate was for the French.â
âThey asked you? Even though you were American?â
Y/N shook her head: âNo. I started pressing my superior to recommend me. I guess I managed to annoy him enough to want to get rid of me. He did eventually, so I was offered the position. I was trained in hand-to-hand combat, weaponâs training, and in June 1942, I was in Germany. We managed to get behind enemy lines by parachuting into the countryside. I knew where my first target was stationed, I knew how he looked, I just had to establish contact. So I started working in a bar that was in the area, and guessed heâd show. Given all the talk about not giving into oneâs urges, some of the âeliteâ sure indulged a lot in everything from alcohol to other pleasures. Thatâs why the SOE didnât only want male spies. After all, all our targets were men, too.â
Jack was visibly uncomfortable by what she was insinuating, and she knew his mother would be, too.
âDonât worryâ, she said silently, âIn most cases, I was able to kill them much before that. But the fact is, there is almost no better place to kill someone than if youâre alone in a room with them and they fully trust you.â She remained silent for a while, then added: âThe key was to keep moving. Keep a low profile. We knew we werenât allowed to be captured. They wouldâve tortured us specifically for the codes to break the English communications. Thatâs why the SOE had given us the means to a quick death, and we always had to carry it on us.â
âYou carried cyanide?â
Y/N nodded with a flat smile: âYeah. I didnât fancy to end up in RavensbrĂźck, either.â
He nodded quietly. âWe lost a few men to captivity. Not Marines, they were from the Army Air Force, near Iwo Jima. They werenât put into a POW camp. They were eaten.â
Y/Nâs jaw dropped. âWhat??â
âJust months before we landed. Didnât really help the mood. They tried to keep it quiet, but people talk. And one guy survived, 19 years old, I think. Bush, or something.â
Y/N had to gag at the thought of that experience. War was inhumane by definition. And the Second World War more so than, perhaps, any other conflict before. Human experiments, genocide, mass executions, the collateral damage. But there as something distinctly immoral about cannibalism â not necessarily âworseâ than any other murder, but she hadnât heard that story before â and it was repulsive. âIâm so sorry for that.â She knew just how much that must have affected anyone who then had to go into battle against the same enemy that had just devoured some of oneâs friends. The hate, and the fear that this would trigger within some, it was hard to put into words.
âWhat was the first thing you did when you came home?â
Y/N looked up, smiling so that she wouldnât look sad. âI didnât come home for a long time after having returned to America.â She looked at the ceiling: âBut the first thing I did in the US was seeing my parents. Well, I thought Iâd go see my parents. I hadnât heard my mother had died in my absence. My dad had remarried, and was livid when I showed up. I guess he was just hurt that I had left him, and my mum, without saying a word. I knew they were against me going, thatâs why I didnât say anything. Canât fault him for being angry, though.â
âHe canât stay angry at you volunteering, thoughâ, he objected before sneezing.
âBless you.â
âThanksâ, he said before continuing, âBut like I said. He better suck it up at some point. You should tell him just how valuable your work was.â
Y/N laughed, causing him to raise an eyebrow. âYeah, sure, how do you think thatâll go? âHi Dad, we havenât spoken in three years, but please stop being angry with me, I did good over there, you wanna see the record of men I killed in an array of ways? Pretty please?â Cause I know my dad, and heâll kick me out the house.â
âThen Iâll talk to him.â
âThen you risk getting your jaw dislocated again, and to be honest, I donât want to risk that, eitherâ, she grinned.
âI managed to hold my own against trained agents and assassins, Iâm sure your old man wonât knock me downâ, he joked, âhe might not have been my biggest fan at university, but I doubt I had many of those.â
âIâm sure heâs happy with his new wifeâ, Y/N said, âMariah. Shouldâve seen her face when I showed up. As if she had seen a ghost.â She huffed. âBut you know, it might have made starting over easier. Hell, it made the job overseas easier. So many were worried about their parents, and I didnât have to worry. And the last time we spoke, they made it pretty clear that by doing something like this, I was crossing a red line for them.â
âYou say that, but for most, family was what made them continue the fight. To see them again. You make it sound like you didnât have that at all.â
She pressed her lips together. âOf course I did. But it was all hypothetical. I wanted to see my friends again, the ones from America, the ones I met in England. But they all went to war, too. Would they still be alive when I returned? Thinking about that just made me anxious. So I tried not to do it often.â
Granted, Y/N had thought about home a lot when abroad. But not necessarily about her parents. It had been a blessing and a curse, as it had given her strength to push on, but also, it terrified her. She wanted to come back alive. But she didnât want to return alone. And up until early 1946, she had no idea if Jack had survived. Then, she read about him in a paper because of the entire Navy Cross thing, before seeing him at the SSR shortly after.
âI nearly had a heart attackâ, she said, realising that he had no way of following her train of thought, so she added, âwhen I read a story about New York servicemen that were awarded medals for their valour in war. Most of them had âdeceasedâ next to their names. Then, I saw yours. That split-second it took me to realise that you were not, Iâll never forget that.â
He couldnât help but to grin.
âIdiotâ, she remarked, shaking her head.
âHowâd you end up with Peggy recommending your for the SSR? Sheâs not the most sociable person with a bunch of friends, how did you even know her?â
âNoâ, Y/N agreed, âI met Peggy overseas in England. We were taught codebreaking together, even shared a room for some time. She told me a bit about her upbringing, I told her a bit about mine. When she continued her job at the SSR and started working at the New York office, it didnât take her that long to realise that chances were quite high you and I know each other given our similar age, identical time at the same university, and studying the same course. She wasnât your biggest fan, so she asked me to apply. And, I suppose, lay in a good word with Dooley.â
Jack raised an eyebrow: âYou told her about university?â
Y/N laughed at his question: âWhat are you insinuating? That I told her about your records of barfights?â She shook her head: âNo, of course not. I would never infringe your reputation without prior consent, Chief.â
She stood up, collecting the dishes. âAnd for heavenâs sake, take the bed for the night. Youâre way too tall for my sofa.â
âBut then you canât sleep in the bed, otherwise Iâll make you sick, too!â
She rolled her eyes with a laugh: âJack Thompson, Iâve slept on the ground of an abandoned warehouse in minus degrees Celsius. Iâll survive a night on my sofa in a well-heated, dry room. So you better move.â
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
Y/N was truly impressed the next morning when she was the first to leave the apartment, with Jack still asleep. She could maintain the lie for a day longer without much hassle, and she knew McKinley was back in the office today. As much as it pained her to tell him that Thompson made him the acting chief during his absence, she knew he was by far the most qualified man for the job â and that second part was, unfortunately, fundamental. He was the best man.
âDid he tell you what happened?â, McKinley asked her, sincerely concerned, and she shrugged.
âNah, I think it was something with his grandmother. Heâs in her eighties, so I guess that comes with age.â âSorry, Gam-Gam for dragging you in thisâ, Y/N thought to herself before making her way to her station.
Eventually, the phone rang, and Y/N picked up, with her signature line, only to realise the person at the other end of the line was saying it with her, causing her to stop mid-introduction.
âPeggy.â
âGood morning, Y/N, how was Christmas?â
âGoodâ, she said, âthough weâre one man short right now. Thompsonâs out of the house.â
âWhat? Did he get a case?â
âNo, no case.â
âIs he alright?â, Peggy questioned irritated.
âAlwaysâ, Y/N said, elongating the word enough for Peggy to catch on.
âAh. Because of alcohol or because of a viral infection?â, her question made Y/N laugh.
âFor once, itâs the second.â
âPoor thingâ, Peggy remarked sarcastically.
âCareful, if he hears that, heâll punch you right in the face. Or at least heâll tryâ, Y/N said with a grin on her lips, âBut whatâs the matter? Any update on our candidate?â
âHeâs actually doing greatâ, Peggy remarked, âI⌠I didnât expect him to be that much of a thorough asset. Good job for recommending him.â
âI made use of what we had, Peg, if he performs well, then I just got luckyâ, Y/N tried to diminish the praise.
âWe have a date, Y/N. And a locationâ, Peggy said, causing Y/N to turn dead-serious and focused.
âJanuary 9th, 14:30, Miami.â
She proceeded to give Y/N the exact address, and Y/N wrote it down without asking further questions.
âWe assume itâll be Keller and seven SSR agents. Thatâs how many have disappeared in the last weeks without turning up dead.â
âFantastic, thatâs more than we knew for DCâ, Y/N remarked sarcastically, âWhatâs the plan proposed by you and Chief Sousa?â
âWell, given we canât trust the SSRâ, Peggy remarked with audible bitterness, âIt will be those that we can, which means Daniel, me, Jack, and you.â
âNo to the first one on the listâ, Y/N replied, careful not to repeat anything that could give the contents of her call away to any of the agents listening in.
âI know heâs still injured, but otherwise weâre incredibly thin!â
âHow about flowers?â
âWhat??â, Peggy asked, âFlowers?â
âYes, donât you want to bring flowers with you?â, Y/N repeated, hopeful that Peggy would get her question the second time around.
For a moment, there was silence. âYou mean Rose?â
âYes.â
ââŚYouâre right, Y/N. But Iâm sure Daniel will want to be there, even if only driving the getaway car.â
âI can get behind thatâ, Y/N said, âThanks Peggy! Iâll make sure to send for flowers.â
âŚâŚâŚ
The time until D-Day was a blur with the workload only increasing. And Jack really didnât like their odds â an injured Sousa, himself, Peggy, Y/N, and Rose? Against seven trained SSR agents, and a Nazi? He knew that if heâd complained, he wouldâve been accused of misogyny again, but it wasnât the fact that the men were in the minority that bothered him. Rose had barely any real field experience, and the rest of the crew had self-sacrificing tendencies. Thatâs what bothered him.
âItâs the best we can musterâ, Y/N commented when they congregated in Miami.
âThatâs quite the achievement. I couldâve asked Sherman, you know?â
Y/N gave him an unimpressed look: âAnd tell him what, exactly? Last time, it was communists, thatâs fair enough. This time, itâs Nazis. HYDRA. The general public has no idea theyâre still out there.â
They met up with the L.A. delegation in a secure location outside the city.
Y/N and Jack entered the building, hearing movement from above. They found them in a room, all together.
When the two of them entered, Y/N could feel everyone face her or Elias. The young scientist stood in the room, a bit awkwardly. But he tried to make the tension go away by smiling at them. âChief Thompson. Agent L/N. It is good to see you.â
âThank you for agreeing to do thisâ, Y/N said sincerely.
He shook his head: âNo, no. I said to Agent Carter â it was one thing to support them when they were in power, but now? That means they must be mad. And that they must be stopped by whatever means possible.â
Jack still found the kid rather strange. âWhy- donât you have any sympathy for them? I mean, no offence, but you did grow up in a system defined by their thought.â
âYes, I did. But I think I lost my faith when in the final stages of the war, the ones who always claimed to have the answers all deserted, escaped the country, or killed themselves. It was a faith, really. Coming here, I saw that politics shouldnât be about beliefâ, he said quietly, âand, Chief Thompson, only because I mourn my family does not mean I do not understand that we were not the primary victims. I have no intention on repeating the Dolchstosslegende.â
âYeahâ, Thompson grunted, âYou better. I have no intention of sending my kids off to star in âthe Allies versus Germany, Part 3.ââ
Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, both at his choice of words, and at mentioning the possibility of ever having kids.
âAnywayâ, Y/N interrupted their back and forth, âyou all know your plan?â
âYeahâ, Sousa nodded, âWe briefed all of ours. Whoâs gonna take Schmitt?â
Without hesitation, Y/N raised her hand. âMe.â She met the manâs eyes: âIf you want, that is.â
âY/N-â
âOf courseâ, Elias spoke over Thompsonâs interjection.
Y/N turned to Jack, knowing that he didnât want her to do it. âIâm not planning on dying, Jack. But we need someone who speaks German to shadow him. Means, either Peggy or I will have to, as Sousaâs already taken a bullet from the man. And if the last time, it was team Carter/Sousa that was hit, itâs only fair that now itâs team L/N/Thompson.â She looked at Elias and nodded: âBesides. I owe the kid for ever agreeing to do this.â
âI get that, I do-â
âJust do as Y/N says, Chief Thompsonâ, Peggy interrupted the next attempt by him to change Y/Nâs mind, âif all goes as planned, sheâll only have to take one shot.â
Sousa directly continued, so as to end any chance to prolong the debate: âAlright. Everyone take a bulletproof vest. In personal experience, it could turn out to be useful.â
âŚâŚâŚâŚ
Their formation was laid out so that Elias would enter the building on his own. Y/Nâs route towards the building had been carefully laid out, she had three paths forward, and would decide once they had scouted the area on the day itself to make sure no one saw her coming. Elias and Keller had agreed to meet alone â which had been a lie on both ends. Elias came with the SSR, Keller with his henchmen. But it meant that within the building, which was a one-room warehouse, most likely, no men would be stationed. And if so, only very few, as not to scare the scientist away. Thompson, Peggy and the rest would close in from a distance, after making out the positions of all the agents and eliminating their possibility to interfere with Y/Nâs detail to eliminate the threat coming from Keller. Y/N crouched below a window that was sheltered from the vision from others by a rusty garbage container. She had successfully tinkered with the window so that she could push it open gently. She heard the voice of Elias, softly and surprisingly calmly, greeting someone he addressed as Mr. Keller. They naturally spoke in German, but that wasnât what struck Y/N. There were an additional set of footsteps. However, from previous intercom communications, she had heard that her colleagues had identified the seven rogue agents and had them in sight. Despite having now muted her device, she knew that there was no way in hell they let someone enter.
âSir, Thomasâ just reported. Nothing unusual, except of a car stationed some miles away southwest.â
Not only did the voice speak in English, but his accent.
He wasnât American.
He was British.
Y/N managed to glimpse into the room for a fraction of a second. Beside Keller was Elias, but next to Elias was a tall man, blond. âLooks remarkably like Jackâ, Y/N realised subconsciously, but she was busier to figure out what that meant. Then, it hit her like a ton of bricks.
She had seen his face before.
She was staring at the face of a dead man.
âI thought we agreed on meeting alone, Herr Keller?â
âDonât worry, Nineteen here is like my shadow. He wonât do anything I donât tell him to.â
Y/N damned her life. She couldnât kill his henchmen. Peggy would kill her. She couldnât kill Michael Carter. She grabbed her communication device, knowing she couldnât speak. But she could send an emergency signal. Despite no drop of blood having been spilled, this was an emergency.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
What the hell was Carter doing with a member of HYDRA? Hell, what was he even doing alive?? He had died before Y/N had even met Peggy â the only reason she knew his face was because of pictures Peggy had shown her. But there was no chance of being wrong, this Michael was definitely Peggyâs brother. And he was definitely fighting for HYDRA. And he was armed to the teeth. Whatever his motives were for doing so, he was certainly the brawns to Kellerâs brains. She had intended to go in and ambush Keller, that way she could try to take him into custody. That plan now flew out the window. She had to shoot him and go one-on-one with Carter. And get the kid out of the line of fire.
âHere goes everything.â
She waited for a few seconds, waiting for them to move into an advantageous position. Then, gunshots ruptured the silence.
âDammitâ.
âClear the-â Keller was about to give an instruction to the blond when Y/N took her shot. The kill was ugly â the opposite of what Hollywood would have made it out to be. It struck him in the neck, blood gushing everywhere as he fell to the ground. Carter drew his gun, pointing at Elias, who was just feet away from the window Y/N had pushed open. She saw the barrel being pointed at the young scientist â and she knew where Carter was aiming. He wouldnât hit the chest, which wouldâve been not a huge issue given he, too, was wearing a bulletproof west. No. He was aiming straight for the head.
It wasnât a decision she actively took, there was no time to think through options. She leapt through the window, hearing the click of the unloading gun and jumped, pulling Elias to the ground, covering him. She felt a sharp pain in her side, but she managed to ignore it.
âLauf!â, she yelled, rolling across the floor to break her fall before jumping up, just feet away from the man who was preparing to take the next shot. Just in time, she managed to grab his arm and push it up, causing the next shot to hit the ceiling.
âStop itâ, Carter said calmly, reaching for a knife fixed to his hip, âyouâre wasting your time.â
He went after her with his knife, and Y/N must give it to him â his coordination was impressive, as he was trying to free his hand with the gun from his grip, whilst simultaneously assaulting her with a knife. She ducked the blade, pushing against him with her bodyweight. She had to take him out before the others came through that door if he shouldnât be to die.
âSorry, Carterâ, she grunted, âGotta do it.â He looked confused, as she suddenly let go of his gun, pulling him towards herself, causing him to lose his footing for a fraction of a second â long enough for her to grab her own gun, spinning it, using it as a club to bash against his temple. She didnât need more than one try to knock him out. The adrenaline, the fear of failure â as well as the experience she had â resulted in the blow being strong enough for him to fall to the ground like a stone.
Just in time. The door flew open and Peggy and Jack stormed in.
âWhat the hell happened?â, Jack yelled breathlessly.
âIt would appearâ, Y/N said dryly, having dropped her weapons to hold onto her bleeding arm, âthe dead walk the earth.â She looked at Peggy, who was looking at the man who was lying face down on the ground. âYou recognise him, Peg?â
âRecognise who?â, Jack asked irritated, âWhat the hell is going on?â
âMichael?â, Peggy asked, hardly more than a whisper.
Y/N leaned against the wall behind her, closing her eyes for a second. âMichael Carter. Peggyâs dead brother.â
âAgent L/N, this is all very shockingâ, Elias, who had come in with Peggy and Jack said tensely, âBut I think it must wait! You are bleeding.â
âWhat?!â
âNothing, it hit my armâ, Y/N said dismissively, âJack, you have to handcuff him. We need to interrogate him.â
âFrom where Iâm standing, we better kill him!â
âJack, weâre not killing himâ, Y/N opposed with finality, âSo handcuff him.â She looked at Elias: âYou know where Sousaâs car is?â
âYes, of course!â, he confirmed, âI called them when you told me to run.â
âGreat.â She looked at Jack: âGet him to a secure location. Iâll get that stitched up.â She looked to Elias: âLead the way.â
âY/N-â
âIâll be right back there!â, Y/N interrupted Jack before walking off with the scientist.
âŚâŚâŚ..
âPeggyâs brother?â, Daniel asked confused, âWhat- how is that even possible?â
âI have no ideaâ, Y/N shrugged with the non-injured arm, âbut weâve seen crazier.â
Daniel huffed. On the way to the nearest hospital, there was a moment of silence in the car.
âMissâ, Elias began, âYou⌠that bulletâŚâ
Y/N shook her head: âPlease. I put you up to this. The reason I wanted to come with you was because you wouldnât even be here if I didnât suggest you. Youâre my responsibility. So of course, Iâd take the bullet for you. A shot in the arm is much better than one in the head.â
He fidgeted with his hands. âI⌠was it all about responsibility, or because of redemption?â
She gave him a dry smile: âKid, there is nothing I can possibly do or say to redeem myself to you.â
He shook his head. âNo, there is nothing you can do or say to me that brings back Konrad. That much is true. But I do forgive you, Miss L/N. I hope you do, too.â
Y/N didnât know if it was the pain from the gunshot wound, or if it actually meant that much to her. But she nearly cried. With a smile, she looked at the young man.
âThank you, Elias. Truly.â
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ..
âMiss, how does a woman like you end up on the other side of a barrel?â
Y/N stared at the doctor who had stitched up the gashing wound on her left upper arm. There it was again âa woman like youâ.
âWhat do you think, Dr. OâBrien?â, she asked back, eyebrow raised.
âI have no idea, thatâs why I asked.â
âI am afraid, sir, that if I were to disclose my motives, the US government would arrest me for spilling secretsâ, she replied sacrosanct, âand you, too, for knowing things no civilian should.â
It served its purpose to make the doctor shut up.
âYouâll have to be careful for a few weeks. You were lucky, the penetration wasnât deep enough to fragment the bone, but it could still result in the stitches opening up again���, he said instead.
âThatâs to be expectedâ, Y/N said, âDonât worry, I got the brief of what to do with gunshot wounds back in 1942. I remember the drill.â
She leapt up from the operating table and gave him a handshake: âThanks, sir. Have a good day!â
Y/N opened the door, walking into the waiting room outside.
âFor hellâs sake, Y/N!â
A bit startled by the presence of Jack in the waiting room who jumped up from his seat as soon as she had opened the door.
âGeez, hello to you, too, J-â Her sarcastic remark was cut short by being pulled towards him as he hugged her.
âI thought we agreed to not do that again!â Y/N realised he tried to sound ironic, but mostly to overshadow his concern.
âYeah, it wasnât necessarily on my to-do listâ, Y/N agreed dryly, âbut I couldnât have killed Michael Carter! Peggy wouldâve killed me!â
Jack inspected her bandage, frowning.
âHowâd you even recognise him? Didnât he die way before you came to England?â
âPictures. Peggy showed me pictures of himâ, Y/N replied silently, âdid he wake up?â
âCarterâs Sousaâs detail.â
Y/N raised an eyebrow. âRight. Come on, cowboy, we gotta go assist, then.â
âDonât you want to â I donât know, take five minutes?â
She grinned: âDo you think my stitches look better in five minutes? Besides, if the fellaâs handcuffed, I doubt heâll swing his knife at me, again.â
Jack sighed, realising that convincing her to stay away from the man who had just tried to cut her into bits was a bad idea would be fruitless. âHave it your way. But we first have to search Kellerâs hideout. We were able to get the address from one of the SSR-hacks. Itâs a regular hotel room.â
âSounds great.â
âI will go in first. You stay back until I give you the clear.â
Y/N knew that it was now her time to compromise. âFair enough.â
A/N: Actually, I posted this a week ago, or even two weeks ago! But thanks to this wonderful hellsite, no one was notified. Love it. ANNNYWAYS. I hope you enjoy this whirlwind of a chapter, from heartfelt talks to nearly heartfelt bullets. Also: Yes, that story Jack referrenced really happened. And the dude who survived was indeed called Bush. George H. W. Bush, to be exact. Crazy story! Let me know what you thought of the chapter, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!
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Jack Thompson x Reader
What Lies Before Us
Previous ChaptersÂ
Chapter 16
âWhatâs the bag for?â, Jack asked when Y/N emerged from her apartment with a bag in her hand, walking towards him standing next to his car.
âItâs Christmasâ, she said as if it were self-explanatory.
âYes, I have deduced that much by the ungodly number of decorations hanging in our neighbourhood.â
Y/N scoffed. âI managed to buy some presents for your parentsâ, she said, adding with a grin, âdonât worry. I put both of our names on there. Just pretend you had a say in picking them out.â
âWhat did you get them?â
Y/N contemplated making it a surprise for him, too, but then he wouldnât be able to know what theyâd get to pretend he helped choosing them.
Climbing into the car, she said: âNothing fancy. I remembered from before the war your dad liked wine, and in my time in Europe, I had the upmost luxury of working with a Frenchman who told me with utter certainty that the wine from his region was unlike anything you can get in the states. Itâs a Bordeaux.â
âI know absolutely nothing about wineâ, Jack replied with a grin, starting the car.
âWhy would you? It only has about 12.5 percent alcohol.â, Y/N retorted with dripping sarcasm, receiving a deadpan glare in response.
âAnd for your ma, I got a new Dutch oven. Realised hers was missing a handle when I helped her with the dessert last time.â
âIs that gonna be your first real Christmas since before the war?â, he asked eventually.
âOh my, how dare you say my Christmas with Peggy was no real Christmas!â, Y/N replied with played outrage, âAnd yes. In a way it will be. I mean, I got to spend several Christmases in Germany, but I donât count those.â
âHow were they?â, he asked, throwing her a glance from behind the steering wheel.
She tilted her head: âActually, surprisingly similar to Christmas here. They celebrate on Christmas eve already, rather than on the 25th. But the rest? The songs, the presents, the sayings, theyâre incredibly similar. Some of them went to church, though by the later stages of the war, that was also fairly regulated.â She huffed: âBut hey, it had the advantage that for songs like silent night, I now can sing them bilingually. Not sure when thatâll ever come in handy, but there we go.â
âI hope we donât have to sing todayâ, he groaned, causing her to laugh.
âŚâŚâŚ.
âOh, Y/N, you managed to get him here!â, Angeline proceeded to hug her before bending down to take a look at her ring, âand he really did it! I knew it, I knew it the moment I saw you in that car! Oh, it looks so beautiful on you, sweetheart.â
Meanwhile, Lucas greeted his son by putting a hand on his shoulder: âCongratulations, son.â
âThanks, pops.â
As Y/N greeted the elder Thompson, she shot Jack a glance: âOur presents!â
Venturing inside, the place was neatly decorated as Angeline had done so even in the 1930s. Jack made his way to the living room to put the bag next to the Christmas tree. He could his mother descend upon Y/N from the dining hall even from the distance.
âNow, you owe me the story. How did he do it? Tell me he did it as it should be done, with a speech and everything!â
Even with hindsight, thinking about the event caused him to get nervous â which was silly, right? It worked out, even if the speech wasnât necessarily going to land him a role in Hollywood. A chance he had probably blown by both putting Whitney Frost into an asylum, as well as having an ongoing feud with the richest filmmaker alive â Stark.
âDonât worry, Angelineâ, Y/N replied with a laugh, âit was⌠I couldnât have asked for anything better. It was wonderful.â
âDid he have a speech prepared?â
âYes, ma, I had a speech preparedâ, Jack interjected, now joining the rest of the family in the dining hall, âsorry I didnât first give it to you to proof-read.â
âI still remember when your father proposed to me â a poet, I tell youâ, she said, turning to her husband and giving him a quick kiss, âin 1918, just weeks after the end of the war! We were so hopeful! And we were married just months later, March third, 1919.â
Y/N couldnât help but smile. âWell, we wonât be that quick, Iâm afraid.â
âYeah, weâre practically drowning in work at the momentâ, Jack agreed, wanting to set realistic expectations in the timeline in regards to marriage.
âYes, weâve heard the rumours about all the arrestsâ, Lucas said, âmade huge waves down at wall street. Some huge names among them, huh?â
âCanât really say much about it, pop, itâs an ongoing investigationâ, Jack replied apologetically, ânot until we bring charges. You know the drill.â
âThatâs why I never wanted to work in law enforcement, sonâ, Lucas grinned, âI actually like talking about my job, much to the despair of Angeline.â
âI can talk to Y/Nâ, Jack shrugged, âitâs not like she doesnât know the cases.â
âPerhaps the one upside of working together in a job that is as precarious as oursâ, Y/N remarked sarcastically before turning to Angeline: âCan I help you with something in the kitchen? Donât tell me you already did all the work!â
âOh, darling, when my son already has the graciousness to appear here, then the least I can do is prepare dinner â especially if he brings his fiancĂŠe!â, Angeline waved her hand, âbut you can help me bring the plates to the table, if you want.â
Y/N followed her into the kitchen, where Angeline turned to her, checking the door behind them was closed.
âIs something the matter?â, Y/N asked, tilting her head.
Angeline shook her head, simply throwing a glance at the door. âIs he alright?â
Y/N huffed in response, giving her a smile: âHeâs fine. I mean, heâs Jack. And sometimes, Jackâs a bit of a⌠pigheaded fellow. Heâs just really wanting to finish the case, you know?â
Again, Angeline shook her head: âHe better learn that this wonât work out for him in the long run. Heâs just like his father, always work first.â
Y/N laughed: âDonât waste your breath on it, I tried.â The truth was â work was all they had after they had come back from war. There was no real family left, not like before. Hobbies seemed irrelevant in comparison. She might scoff about his way of dealing, but she understood it better than most.
âŚâŚâŚâŚ
After dinner, the Thompsons and Y/N went to the living room area, where the Christmas tree was decorated. Y/N laughed when she saw that Jack had literally put the bag beneath the tree, not even taking the presents out of the bag.
She quickly went to do so, putting them to the rest of the presents, which she assumed, Angeline hat put there.
âWe got you presentsâ, Y/N announced, handing first Angeline her present, then Lucas his.
âSince when do you give us presents, Jack?â, Lucas asked with a lopsided grin.
âSince today, apparently.â
Y/N chuckled. âItâs nothing big.â
When Angeline realised what it was, she looked directly at Y/N: âYou noticed??â
âWhyâd you think she noticed? I couldâve noticed!â, Jack complained jokingly.
âDarling, what colour is my Dutch oven?â, Angeline asked, and it was obvious Jack was clueless.
âRedâ, Y/N said, âItâs red.â
âAnd that, Jack, is why. I donât need to be a federal agent to figure that out.â
And apparently, Y/N had gotten lucky with her pick in wine, despite having no idea what vineyard was good, or what year had been a good year, but apparently, it was a solid pick as Lucas went on to explain â unlike his son, he, apparently, understood something about wine. Jack received a new leather wallet, Y/N was gifted a watch â for which she felt terrible, as she really didnât want other people spending money on her.
âDonât even start, Y/N, first, youâve missed about 7 years of Christmases, and second, youâre going to be my daughter-in-law, and I never had a daughter to buy presents for!â, Angeline objected her discomfort.
âThat is immensely kind, thank you bothâ, Y/N said, still a bit unsure about the present, but knowing that refusing to accept it would be even worse than accepting it reluctantly, âAm I right to assume you two will drive up north tomorrow to visit Colette?â
Jack huffed: âItâs weird to hear you call Gam-Gam Colette.â
âWell, she ainât my Grandmaâ, Y/N remarked with a grin.
âIâm sure sheâd adopt youâ, Jack shrugged.
âThatâs definitely trueâ, Angeline laughed, and Lucas nodded.
âYeah, weâll head there tomorrow mid-morning. My brotherâs familyâs with her today.â
âTell her I deeply apologise for us not being thereâ, Y/N said, âI already had to broker like a madman to get us here today.â
âFor my part, Iâd sleep easier knowing that our ongoing case is closed, you knowâ, Jack threw her a look, âitâs not like I just refuse to leave my office because I like the chair.â
âOh, I knowâ, Y/N shook her head with a smile, âif all people had your work ethics, Iâm sure the world would be running like clockwork. But I still believe one can spare one evening without the world imploding.â
âHave you seen our work?â, he scoffed, âthings literally implode around us all the time.â
âIf only Vernon had brought you to an accountant, rather than the SSRâ, Angeline remarked in overdone desperation.
âIâm quite certain Jack wouldâve quit on day twoâ, Lucas remarked, causing the rest to laugh â because that was spot-on. No chance Jack wouldâve spent more than 48 hours doing taxes â as a matter of fact, he had always hated accounting. Maybe that explained his dislike for filing, too.
âSpeaking of the SSRâ, Jack picked up, âWe might not be with them for that much longer. After this case is done, were leaving the SSR and change to the CIA.â
âYou do?â, Lucas raised his eyebrows, âI thought you mentioned hating the new intelligence agency.â
âOh, that was referring to the FBIâ, Y/N said, âUnlike with them, we havenât clashed heads with the CIA. At least yet.â
âCIA, FBI, SSR â how many intelligence agencies does one country need?â, Angeline asked, âthis is even worse than it was during the war!â
âI suppose thatâs because now we have to fight a war without calling it thatâ, Y/N shrugged.
âItâs labour-intensive workâ, Jack added and huffed, âand it seems you need one agency for the threat within, one for the threat from without, and one to chase after Howard Starkâs constantly stolen doohickies.â He wasnât wrong, in a way â but his unceasing resentment towards the inventor still made Y/N laugh.
âYou met him, son?â
âStark?â, Jack asked back, and his father nodded. âYeah. Charming. Great sense for the newest fashion.â The cynicism dripped from every syllable.
âYou must have missed their press conferenceâ, Y/N remarked sarcastically, âIt was a sight to behold.â
Jack threw her a glance telling her âthanks for bringing that upâ.
âYou shouldâve referred him to me, Jack! Couldâve been the acquisition of a lifetime!â
âSeriously, pops?â, Jack rolled his eyes, âI sincerely doubt youâd want to spend more than three minutes with the guy in the same building.â
âSon, Iâd meet with Stalin if that meant getting a client like Stark.â
âŚâŚâŚ
âThank you so much for the wonderful dinner, and the watch. Itâs really, really beautifulâ, Y/N said when walking outside the house, kissing Angeline and Lucas on the cheeks. She hated this kind of greeting, because ever since stepping a foot on European soil, she found it absolutely confusing â one kiss, two kisses, or three? It would change, it seemed, from city to city, or from person to person.
âOh, youâre very welcomeâ, Angeline gave her a bright smile, âafter all, I think itâs much to you we even got to see our son for Christmas!â
Walking to the car, Y/N waved goodbye to Jackâs parents, who returned inside, given it was bitterly cold outside.
âYou wanna drive?â
The question made her abruptly look at her fiancĂŠ: âSomething wrong?â
He laughed a bit confused: âI only asked you if you wanted to drive, not to resuscitate me.â
âExactlyâ, she underlined, but shrugged, âSure.â He passed her his keys and she walked to the driverâs seat, adjusted it and the mirrors, before turning on the engine. She was still trying to figure out what had gotten into him to even ask her to drive â the only time she insisted on driving was when he came from a bar. And for his standards, he hadnât touched alcohol the entire evening. It was a quiet drive â the streets, for New York standards, were practically empty. Most businesses were closed because of the holidays, and most motorists were, apparently, at home, too. Y/N was about to comment on how under these circumstances, driving in New York was almost tolerable when she saw in the side mirror that sheâd probably not get an answer. Jack had fallen asleep.
She smiled, shaking her head. âHow typicalâ.
Given it was exam season and the next one was right around the corner, only three days away, social fairs had been reduced to trips to the cafeteria, at best. Y/N spent most of her time in the library, trying to do some revision for the exam on Friday, which was on the transformation of the state order in the aftermath of the Congress of Vienna. From the formation of new states to the establishment of international alliances, and the birth of constitutional states â and the demise of the system in 1914.
It had quite technical elements to it, as well as a bunch of words that were literally untranslatable and one had to rely on the French word, or, in some instances, the German. There were other annoying parts, such as the fact that European kings changed all the time, every dynasty seemed to only have two names to pick from, so you had to be spot-on with the number as a suffix â because, God forbid accidentally mistaking Alexander II with Alexander III, as they were practically polar opposites. Hence, Y/N was grateful to Austria-Hungary, which, for most of the period, only had one emperor. Franz Josef. In any case, she was at the library from 9 to 5, and would then go home and rest, reading something to take her mind off the matter. Her failsafe answer to any question regarding the immediate aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars was to talk about Metternich, 1860-90 was Bismarck-time, and then it would inevitably spiral to the unfortunate Kaiser that was Kaiser Wilhelm II. That approach seemed, to her, like a good balance between revision and relaxation. That was not the approach Jack took. Heâd be in the library for just as long, until the librarians would kick him out, and then heâd study again from 10 into the morning. That session, Y/N found pointless. Why not just go to bed, and continue revision the next day â well-rested? But after having experienced multiple exam seasons already, she didnât even try to change his mind. His mind was set, and that was the end of the story.
They mostly studied on the same floor of the library, albeit not in the same section. Y/N was returning from the bathroom, heading back to the station, when she walked past the area where Jack usually studied, so she decided to pay him a visit. After all, they were taking the same exam. Well, that was the plan.
But as it turned out, sheâd not get much of a conversation, given Jack had fallen asleep face-down on his notes.
âI told youâ, she thought, âI told you so. But no, I was just being a wuss, right? So much for tough guy, great job falling asleep in the middle of the goddamn library.â
Naturally, she didnât say any of it out loud. Should she wake him or let him sleep? Heâd want her to wake him up. Was it smart? Probably not. But it was what he wouldâve wanted.
âJackâ, she shook his shoulder, causing him to jolt up.
âW- What?â
âWelcome backâ, she said, grinned, and left him to it.
âJackâ, Y/N shook his shoulder. He blinked a couple of times, frowned, looked around.
âWeâre hereâ, Y/N said, âAnd unfortunately, I canât carry you inside.â
âIâm up.â He rubbed his eyes whilst the turned off the car and got out.
âWhen are you going to the office?â, she asked, walking up to her front door and opening it with her key.
âI dunnoâ, he yawned, â7-ish.â
She raised an eyebrow, raising her new watch to his face: âThat is in five hours.â
âExactly.â
âYou, Mr. Thompsonâ, she muttered, âAre unbelievable.â
She went to take off her makeup, when she heard him call from the bedroom: âIs that box on the bed intentional?â
âWhat do you think, Agent Thompson?â, she replied, âthat Iâd not gift you anything?â
âI wanted to give you yours tomorrow, but I guess two in the morning is technically the day intended.â
âSmartassâ, Y/N grinned, returning ready for bed to the bedroom. âYou can also open it later and go to sleep now.â
âNah, Iâm wide awake now.â
He handed her a parcel on his own, which she knew was big for him. He was convinced that he was a terrible gift-giver. And gift-receiver, for that part.
âYou know that you donât have to give me stuffâ, he said whilst unwrapping the present.
âDitto, but here we are, both giving each other something. Just imagine I didnât get you anything!â
Beneath the wrapping paper was a box â and inside the box was a framed picture, as well as a little pouch with a note on it.
The framed picture was from their graduation.
âI remember thatâ, he said with a smile, holding it up, âYou looked great.â
âMy feet were hurting, and I was cold.â
âYeah, I remember that, tooâ, he grinned, âI gave you my coat.â
âThat you didâ, Y/N smiled.
He put it to the side, then held up the pouch so that he could read the note. Unlike you, it missed the heart. He frowned: âA riddle?â
âIâm way too unimaginative to come up with a riddleâ, she said laughing. He opened it and almost dropped the content.
âPlease donât make rings out of it, though.â
âYou held on to that thing??â, he asked, taking the bullet into his fingers. That was the thing â the thing that had nearly killed him.
âI didnât want to leave it in the hotel room, and after I finished my job and knew we didnât need it for further evidence, I donât know why, but yeah. I didnât throw it outâ, she shrugged.
âPretty weird to see that thingâ, he stated, putting it back in the pouch, âbut I guess every time I look at it, I remember that youâre the reason Iâm still breathing. Though the scarâs permanent reminder of that, too.â
âIâve never seen a more beautiful scarâ, she said â truthfully. âIt means you pulled through.â
âThatâs certainly one way to look at a scarâ, he huffed amusedly. âThank you, Y/N. For the presents, and well. For what lies behind them.â
She smiled: âYou donât have to thank me for any of it.â
He tipped towards her present with his chin: âGo on. Open it.â
Cautiously, she unwrapped it. It was a box, too. So she, too, opened the box.
âNoâ, she said, in disbelief, âI gave that to that fella from the rowing club to pay him off!â It was an old keychain, one that she had once been given by her own grandma. It wasnât anything particularly special, a metal triangle with a jade stone at the centre, which for some reason, that rowing guy had found fascinating. And it was enough to make him not go to the principle with charges against Jack and his friends.
âYeahâ, he nodded, âyou did. I won it back a few weeks later during a poker game. I wanted to give it to you at the graduation ceremony, but I forgot it and then the war came.â
She laughed, but was also genuinely touched by it. After all, it had been one of the only things she had from her grandma, who had passed when she had been young. âItâs fantastic. Really. Thank you!â She admired the stone on the keychain for a few seconds before giving Jack a kiss. âYou shouldâve really stuck to poker, rather than that goddamn Piccadilly Commando, though.â
A/N: I know, a slight delay from what I said last time. Many apologies! But at least now itâs mid-October, so it might not be as silly to have a chapter dedicated to the holidays. I hope you enjoy it - and do let me know if you want to be added/taken off the tag list. Also, feedback is always welcome. Reblogs are always a highlight. But any engagement, really.Â
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I want to take this moment to thank Sarah for always reblogging my work, it has helped me through the years it took to write this story! As much as it is my writing, itâs your support that made it possible đ
Jack Thompson x Reader
What Lies Before Us
Masterlist (previous chapters, book 1)
Chapter 15
Upon their return in New York, company awaited them in the SSR â more specifically, in the bullpen. Peggy and Daniel were waiting for them.
âThey look lividâ, Y/N commented, seeing the obvious anger on Danielâs face, and the absolute frustration on Peggyâs.
âPhilips, Iâd guessâ, Thompson said quietly, as the two of them joined them in the bullpen, closing the door to make sure no one else could be listening.
âYou couldâve warned us before calling the director!â, Daniel hissed, trying his best to keep his voice down.
âYou know how our chain of command works, Sousa, and this needed to be done urgently.â
âYouâre unbelievable!â
âHey, give us a break, Danielâ, Y/N interjected, âI know this is a shit situation for all of us, especially for you, but we literally flew halfway across the globe to take out whatever base HYDRA had in Japan, and destroyed their ability to reopen a rift in space with Starkâs gamma cannon.â
âI didnât mean it like that, Y/Nâ, Sousa said, now much more quietly. She simply raised an eyebrow.
Keep reading
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Jack Thompson x Reader
What Lies Before Us
Masterlist (previous chapters, book 1)
Chapter 15
Upon their return in New York, company awaited them in the SSR â more specifically, in the bullpen. Peggy and Daniel were waiting for them.
âThey look lividâ, Y/N commented, seeing the obvious anger on Danielâs face, and the absolute frustration on Peggyâs.
âPhilips, Iâd guessâ, Thompson said quietly, as the two of them joined them in the bullpen, closing the door to make sure no one else could be listening.
âYou couldâve warned us before calling the director!â, Daniel hissed, trying his best to keep his voice down.
âYou know how our chain of command works, Sousa, and this needed to be done urgently.â
âYouâre unbelievable!â
âHey, give us a break, Danielâ, Y/N interjected, âI know this is a shit situation for all of us, especially for you, but we literally flew halfway across the globe to take out whatever base HYDRA had in Japan, and destroyed their ability to reopen a rift in space with Starkâs gamma cannon.â
âI didnât mean it like that, Y/Nâ, Sousa said, now much more quietly. She simply raised an eyebrow.
âPhilips contacted Howard. He wants that he and I rebuild an organisation in which the SSR is only a part ofâ, Peggy began, looking intently at the two New York SSR members, âHe intends for it to have a broader range of duties than the SSR ever had. Itâs supposed to be called S.H.I.E.L.D.â
âShield?â, Jack snorted, âYeah, why not just call it Captain Americaâs fan-gang.â
Y/N chuckled, and even Daniel cracked a smile â Peggy only shot him an annoyed glance.
âI didnât come up with it, Jackâ, she replied, âItâs apparently a shorthand for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division.â
âSureâ, Jack nodded amusedly, âThereâs a way to make any shorthand work.â
Peggy rolled her eyes. âIt will take time to build up this new organisation. In the meantime, we will have to continue within the frameworks of the SSR, try to hunt down the rest of the Arena Club members, and especially Mr. Keller, whoâs now probably somewhere hidden in the middle of nowhere together with Agent Eden. There arenât many people within the SSR I trust not to be working with HYDRA⌠but I trust you. So if you want to remain within the organisation, and transition to working for S.H.I.E.L.D., I will keep your names on the books.â
There was a moment of silence, where no one truly knew what to say. Such a decision, you donât make within the blink of an eye.
âAnd that after you threatened to shoot meâ, Jack joked instead.
Y/N mustered a smile: âThank you, Peggy, for your trust. On my part, if that is possible, I will consider it for a few days.â
âDitto.â
Peggy nodded â after all, this didnât need to be confirmed right away.
âI thought about how to get to Kellerâ, Y/N then announced, seeing three rather surprised faces when she did so, âThe only way for us to find him is to tempt him with a bait, a bait suitable for a HYDRA member interested in scientific revelations. I thought long and hard about who could fill this role, and no one came to mind. Most of Starkâs employees are Americans, Doctor Vanko is Soviet, and I donât know if HYDRAâs already desperate enough to work with what they consider âUntermenschenâ. But we have one ace up our sleeves. A young man who offers to serve HYDRA, sell out Stark intel to get back at the people that had wronged him, that had taken his brother away from him. In an act of revenge, he volunteers to join HYDRA. And best of all, he fits all their recruitment targets. Right ethnic background, can show incredible loyalty within his family during the war, himself a member of the HJ. Itâs the ideal match.â
âWeâre gonna use Schmitt as bait??â, Jack asked her â just to confirm.
âHe has potential motiveâ, Peggy agreed, âY/N, youâre brilliant!â
âWe canât just use a civilian, heâs untrained!â, Sousa interjected. Y/N raised her eyebrows.
âI doubt this man is completely untrained. He will have had boxing lessons as a kid, that was part of the curriculum of the Hitler Youth. And most likely, he was also made familiar with guns. Regardless, we will obviously make sure heâs not killed, he just has to lure him out in the open. Then we take him out.â
âWeâll kill Keller?â, Sousa asked, frowning.
âBuddy, he already shot you once, and we donât have to collect a billion HYDRA agents in our prisonsâ, Thompson deadpanned, âSo even if we go in with the objective to capture, I wouldnât be too hesitant to put a bullet in the guyâs brain.â
âIâll contact himâ, Peggy said, âand will report back once weâre ready to make our move.â
âŚâŚ.
Only when they were at Y/Nâs place did Jack and her get the chance to talk about Peggyâs offer.
âWhat do you think?â, Y/N asked, âYouâre planning on staying?â
He sighed. The comfortable route wouldâve been to say âyesâ. After all, he had a great position within the SSR, and with Daniel, Peggy and Y/N, he knew a handful of people he could rely on. But he also began to question if the SSRâs business of hunting HYDRA and Leviathan was what he wanted to do for the rest of his career. He didnât have the same passion for hunting HYDRA that Peggy had. If anything, he wanted to make sure the Reds were being kept out â all of them, not just the ones that were after Stark tech.
âWhat about you?â, he asked back, not knowing what to answer.
Y/N tilted her head. She had earned her lifeâs purpose spying. She never had to deal with HYDRA before, there were enough ânormalâ Nazis to be hunted down. HYDRA was, after all, just a miniscule part within the Third Reichâs warped notion of Germanic influence in the world. âI canât⌠I canât understand why we are obligated to keep men like Zola or Fenhoff alive within our prisons when all they are is a liability. I canât hunt the same agency we cooperate with. Especially if we have to assume theyâre our co-workers. I will finish this job, and we will hunt down every last one of those bastards within the Arena Club. But then? My skills are for hunting other targets. Dooley had me investigate the mafia, but nowadays, thatâs not under our jurisdiction anymore. Thatâs the FBI now. But God, call me biased, but I donât fancy working for Vernonâs boys.â
Jack lifted a corner of his mouth, finding it amusing how they had reached such similar conclusions without even talking to each other about it beforehand.
âWhat?â
âYou know, I thought the same thingâ, he had grabbed two glasses, now reached for the whiskey, âthe CIA it is, then.â
He handed her a glass to toast, knowing that sheâd probably not actually touch the drink after the ceremonial clinking of the glasses.
âIâll give Senator Cooper a ring. Though our resumĂŠ should be sufficientâ, he grinned.
âYeah, Iâm quite certain heâll list me as your secretary, thoughâ, she retorted, raising her glass to meet his. âTo one last job.â
âIn the SSRâ, he corrected before almost downing the entire glass like a shot, causing Y/N to roll her eyes with a chuckle.
âWhat?â
âYou in a hurry or why do you drink this petrol like the devilâs behind you?â, she asked amused, switching his almost empty glass with hers.
âIf you hate it, whyâd you keep it in your house?â, he asked back, accepting her glass.
She simply laughed: âBy this point, Iâm conditioned to keep at least one bottle in reserve given you practically live here. We all have our vices, and this is yours.â
âGeez, thanks.â
âI told you, it has gotten better compared to 46â, she said with a grin, âthough I canât really comprehend why you drink this stuff pure. You always have, even at university.â
âYou want the truth?â, he said with a lopsided smile, âMuch cheaper.â
She shook her head â typical Jack-reasoning.
âAnd itâs an acquired taste.â
âWhy would you want to acquire the taste of certain death?â, she joked, and he raised his eyebrows.
âWhat?â
âItâs funnyâ, he said, taking a sip, âSousaâs said the exact same thing.â
Y/N snorted: âGood to know the SSR will at least maintain one man with the ability to see the big picture.â
âTheyâll have Peggy.â
Y/N winked: âI said one man. Iâm sure they can rely on Peggy until the day she dies.â
âŚâŚ.
Meanwhile, L.A. Stark Laboratories.
âW- Why am I being interrogated again? Have I done something wrong?â, Elias asked, looking anxiously at the brunette who had led him into a small room.
âYou have done absolutely nothing wrong, Mr. Schmittâ, Peggy said, pointing to a chair for him to sit down, âAs a matter of fact, Mr. Stark is very impressed by your work on the rocket engines.â
âThen why? Is it because of your colleague? The y/h/c one?â, he asked, voice still thin.
âNot in the way you meanâ, Peggy said, sitting down herself, âTell me, Mr. Schmitt, have you ever heard of HYDRA?â
âHydra?â, he repeated confused, âThe Greek monster?â
âNo, the Nazi organisationâ, Peggy replied, but she thought his confusion to be genuine. He didnât know about HYDRA â most Germans didnât.
âNever heard of it. Did my brother work for them?â
âNo, at least, nothing would indicate that he did. We hunted them during the war, thought that they were eradicated. It would seem that we were mistaken.â
He looked at her, obviously wondering what this all had to do with him.
âIâm sorry, Miss, but I have no knowledge of this organisation. I canât even tell you much about the SS, and my brother worked there.â
âItâs quite alright, we know all we need about HYDRA. See, Mr. Schmitt, some days ago, a HYDRA member disappeared. We need to lure him out of hidingâ, she began, âand we canât trust our SSR agents to do that job. Unfortunately, many of this manâs close contacts have met several of our agents, so chances are, heâd be able to uncover them.â
He looked at her, still confused.
âHYDRA predominantly recruits men with a⌠certain profile. Men, only men. Preferably German. With a background in science. In other words, men like you, Mr. Schmitt. Which is why, after some deliberation, Agent L/N recommended you for this job.â
His mouth fell open: âWhat??â
âI believeâ, Peggy paused, âI believe she trusts you to be on our side. Which, I must say, surprised me, given her background with your family. But in any case. Your job would be to contact our man, to convince him that you have something of value. Stark technology. Something that you can offer them for them to meet with you in a secure location. When said meeting is scheduled, you will be accompanied by our best to assure your safety.â
âIf those men â HYDRA â if theyâre Nazisâ, he said shocked, âtheyâre dangerous! Theyâre mad! It was one thing to work for the Nazis when they were the ultimate source of power, but to do so now? They must be insane!â
âPerhaps, but insanity can be incredibly dangerousâ, Peggy replied, âAnd Mr. Schmitt, it would not go unrewarded. We will put in a good word at the Office of Immigration. We would be able to get you your citizenship.â
Elias remained silent for a good 30 seconds. This was a huge commitment.
âWhat do you say, Mr. Schmitt?â
He exhaled, collecting himself. He looked up, now determined. âYes. I say yes.â
It would be a long shot â establishing communication, establishing trust â it would take a while. By an ironic twist of fate, the boy who had wanted nothing but to uncover the identity of the spy that had gotten his brother had become the spy himself.
âŚâŚâŚ..
The next weeks were rough, and most days, the only time Y/N and Jack saw each other was within the walls of the SSR during working hours. Though Jack didnât have nightshift every day, he hardly left the agency before two in the morning, and was there by 7:00 latest. Hunting down the remaining members of the Arena Club, Keller aside, was now top priority, and all possible resources were mobilised to get a handle on the problem as soon as possible. He made sure every police force in the country knew the faces of the men they were after, as well as the Office of Immigration, boarder patrol, hell, he even informed the FBI. By the end, he wanted that there was no law enforcement officer on US soil who didnât know who they wanted to be arrested.
But Sousa had been right when he had moaned about how difficult it was to take Hugh Jones into custody â turns out, going after some of the richest, most influential men in the country ruffled some feathers.
âI think you didnât get what I was sayingâ, Jack seethed into the telephone, inches away from screaming into it, âI gave you the paper trail connecting them to various cases of espionage and treason.â
âSir, by all due respect-â
âStuff it!â, Thompson interjected, âAnd so help me God, if you donât do your goddamn duty right now, sir, I swear I will leak this story personally to the Washington Post!â
Silence.
âYou understand now?â
âYes, sir.â
After ending the call, Jack stared at the telephone. Sometimes, he really wondered if they were actually achieving anything, when they were working with people who obviously didnât share their interest in actually bringing people to justice who didnât fit the bill of being communist spies. What purpose was there of having power if you didnât use it to get results? Why enter law enforcement, when you donât enforce the law? This had nothing to do with political views, this had to do with integrity. For what did they offer up their lives in the thousands if not to upkeep the safety at home?
The door to the bullpen was pushed open and Y/N came in with coffee, interrupting his philosophical crisis.
âWerenât you here like forty minutes ago?â, he questioned.
âYes, probablyâ, she shrugged, filling up his cup, âbut something has to keep you up and running, and it isnât sleep, these days.â
âI want to have the case closed by Christmasâ, Jack replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose, âThe sooner, the better.â
Y/N laughed, causing him to raise an eyebrow. âWhat?â
âNever say âitâll be over by Christmasââ, she said, shaking her head, âThatâs what the Europeans thought in summer of 1914.â
He rolled his eyes: âI swear, if weâre still here in a year, Iâll ask you to shoot me.â
âYeah, sorry, youâll have to ask Peggy to help you with thatâ, Y/N replied with a grin, turning around, âBut weâll get it done. Just⌠maybe just before New Yearâs Eve.â
âŚâŚâŚ.
Regularly, Y/N would get a report from Peggy on the progress regarding Elias Schmitt. She had to admit, she was surprised he agreed without more fuss. But Peggy had spent months on him, wiretapping conversations, eavesdropping and following him, and he came out clean. He was their best shot at luring out Keller â after all, the motive he had was better than anyone could have come up with as a cover story, and it wasnât even a lie. They had used the rogue agent to initiate a line of communication between Kellerâs men and Schmitt, with the explanation that he had gotten his name when the SSR had asked him to assist their lab rats on hunting him down.
Meanwhile, Thompson finally made some progress getting the rest of the law enforcement in line to make arrests of those members that were not in hiding â which meant a media frenzy, given that some of the names, such as Hayes, were publicly well-known figures, together with several of the most-well-known bosses of businesses. The crackdown also meant that the mafia realised that their plan had been spoiled, meaning they attempted to silence those who knew of their involvement, which resulted in Jackâs old pal from the fair, George Heath, to end up shot in the gutter.
âChief, Iâve got four calls from the Times in the last three hours, they are about to break a story on the Arena Clubâ, McKinley sighed annoyed, âI tried to talk them out of it, but unless we pressure them legally to hold back the story, theyâre not gonna listen.â
âFor f- then get the editor on the line and tell him if they disclose anything that will affect the trial, theyâll end up in court themselves!â, Thompson barked, âwe canât have them talk about a secret organisation before we bring charges!â
âChief-â
âMcKinley, the editor!â
His deputy raised his hands, turning around to pick up the phone.
Jack clenched his jaw, annoyed that it seemed that everyone was currently conspiring to make this ordeal even more frustrating than it would have been anyways.
Y/N had observed the interaction from her station, shaking her head slightly. The magic limit for Jackâs tolerance for sleep deprivation was a week. He could function well for about one week with three to four hours, then it started to show. And this was exactly what it looked like when day 7 had passed. That had been exam season every semester at university. Mostly followed by stellar exams, one last hurrah at a bar, and then some viral infection because of the previous stress. She had always found it rather silly â not finding it particularly effective herself to study with such few hours of sleep. She had even tried to talk to him to change his ways â and spectacularly failed in achieving that, which is why she didnât even try to talk him out of it now. Especially when day 7 had passed, there was no way to get through to him. Then heâd pull through out of stubbornness alone.
âI can call the editor, if you wantâ, she said to McKinley, who looked like he really didnât want to talk to more journalists.
He looked at her with wide eyes: âYou would?â
âYeahâ, Y/N shrugged with a grin, âyou know, I can pretend to be the SSRâs lawyerâs secretary.â
âI owe you, L/N!â
âŚâŚâŚâŚ
As a matter of fact, by December 20th, they had managed to arrest, or at least localise almost all members of the Arena Club. The big absent, of course, was Keller, who was still underground. From what Y/N had heard from Peggy, she believed that it would take at least another month for them to be in a position where they could organise a meeting without suspicion. Elias was in frequent contact with Keller, or his associates, and even sent them some of Starkâs blueprints â mostly of things like his hoover-car, which was less dangerous than his weaponsâ designs. Especially given its rather volatile performance.
This was about two weeks after Y/N and Jack had returned from Okinawa, and Y/N was pretty sure in any other institution, Thompson would be granted at least two weeks of holidays to stutter off his overtime. But that was the pleasure of being the Chief â no one cared.
âWhoâs the folks whoâll cover the 25th?â, she asked when filling up his coffee again.
âWallace and m-â
âIt canât be youâ, Y/N interrupted, earning a frown.
âWhat?â
âWallace and whoever, but not you and not meâ, she shrugged, putting his cup down, âwe have a very important appointment that day.â
He raised an eyebrow and rubbed his face: âIf you want me to play a guessing game, Iâm sorry, but I donât have the nerve.â
She rolled her eyes: âAs a matter of fact, yesterday, at like 23:00, I got a call. You wouldnât know, I know, you were still in the SSR.â She paused to underline her point, making him roll his eyes. âYour mother called. Wanted to know if you were still among the living. And she told me, and as a matter of fact, I quote her here, âyou better drag him here for Christmas dinner, or so I swear, I will force him to join me at the Church for a dozen timeâ!â
He sighed.
âDonât broodâ, Y/N shook her head, âWe ainât arresting Keller on Christmas. Itâs one dinner, Jack!â
âFine. But I donât have presents for them.â
Y/N laughed: âYeah. You never had presents for them. Iâm sure your ma will already be happy to just see that youâre still kicking, but Iâd advise you to sleep for five hours for a change. Right now, you resemble a ghost.â
âGeez, thanks for the barrage of complimentsâ, he said dryly, reaching for the coffee.
âWhy, of courseâ, she winked, âItâs my job, right?â
âYour job is to arrest men like Keller.â
âYes, and we will, Jack, but tell me, do you think a German scientist, even if he is appearing to work with HYDRA, is likely to chose Christmas for a meeting with his HYDRA handlers? Germans, if you believe, really care about Christmasâ, she reasoned with a sigh. Arguing with Jack was hard enough on a good day, and when he was low on sleep, it really was a pleasure.
âIf you say so.â
âI do say so.â
A/N: Christmas theme in September... Is that even acceptable? Idk, but I hope you like it regardless! There *may* be a longer pause between this and the next chapter, but I swear, it will come in September. Just not sure exactly as to when. Also - return of Elias! I like him as an OC in this story, and I felt like he fit in perfectly in this narrative. And: I love the âitâll be over by Christmasâ joke. Not sure how famous it is in the US as it referred to the 1914-period of the war, but I felt the need to put it in here. Also, if you want a weird WW1 story - the 1914 Christmas Truce is one of these things that sound so unreal in the backdrop of both world wars that were yet to fully unfurl their wrath. Comments & feedback as to which parts you enjoyed most are ALWAYS a highlight of mine!Â
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Jack Thompson x Reader
What Lies Before UsÂ
Masterlist (previous chapters, previous book)
Chapter 14
The one advantage of doing a job in an aera that was under a military government, and that military was American, was that at least Thompsonâs clearance level made it more or less easy to get to the required documents. To the question of the Air Forceâs intelligence officer as to why they needed the aerial reconnaissance pictures, he replied that they had information regarding stolen tech that was being hidden in the area. After all the stuff that was stolen from Stark, that sounded at least believable.
Taking an initial picture, he held it in front of Y/Nâs face. âSee these dots all across the streets?â
She nodded.
âThose are cave entrances. The ones that are hard to make out are probably the ones that were sealed up in 45.â
Y/N raised an eyebrow. If all these dots were caves, then he had not exaggerated when he referred to the place as a honeycomb. They were literally everywhere.
âSo if the coordinates are correctâ, Y/N said, pointing at one area of the picture, âour target should be somewhere around here. Probably one of these dots.â
The images they had covered the last four weeks, and the shots were about two to three days apart. Again, one of the advantages of it being a very well-observed area.
âMy moneyâs on the one to the leftâ, Jack eventually announced, âif you compare week one to week four, it seems like the threes around the entrance were cut down. The others seem undisturbed.â
Y/N looked through the pictures herself, just to confirm. But he was right. Whilst most dots showed little to no change, this one did.
âRightâ, Y/N muttered, âSo, what now? Confirming by infiltration is out of the picture. Hard enough to storm a building, Iâm not storming a goddamn cave. Iâd say we head down there, take a look around and find a place to set up a camera, whilst we hide further away and check the monitors.â Theoretically, she also thought about going there themselves and observing it in person, but she wanted to minimise the risks involved. And the target was stationary, which made using a camera possible.
She observed Jackâs face when she suggested the next steps. He seemed to ponder for a while, clenching his jaw as he did habitually, before nodding.
âYeah. But after taking an initial look around, we better bury one of our explosives at the entrance before starting the surveillance. If we see anything, we can use the long-distance detonator.â He was aware that this would mean theyâd never find out what actually happened in the cave, but he banked on it being in the files of some of the Arena Club people back in the states. The only other option would have been to throw in poisonous gas, and he really didnât want to take his chances on the wind blowing in the right direction. Whilst he was less hesitant about blowing up the cave in its entirety, even if people were still inside, he really didnât want to be held responsible for accidentally killing a bunch of civilians or American servicemen. One war crime was enough for one island.
âAgreed. You ever dealt with high explosives before?â, Y/N asked. Jack gave her a funny look.
âWhat do you think I do in my free time?â, he asked, tilting his head.
She rolled her eyes and grinned: âI didnât mean your free time. But anyways, I have. We had to blow up some railways and factories for sabotage. Meaning, Iâll be the one to get the explosive in position.â
Though he wasnât really comfortable at the thought of Y/N running around with a bomb in her hand, he realised that she had â evidently â done her fair share of incredibly dangerous missions, he had just not been there to see it.
âRight.â
âFantasticâ, she said, giving him a sarcastic smile, âseems like weâll be out of here in no time. Which is good, considering the humidity is terrible for pin-curls, it appears.â She pointed to her hair â the normally neatly curled strands of hair stubbornly falling. âI canât get my hair to behave here, no matter what I try.â
With a smile, Jack kissed her forehead: âYouâre still the most beautiful woman Iâve ever seen.â
âThatâs a lie, or youâre just biasedâ, she retorted, âYouâve watched movies with Rita Hayworth!â
âYes, but Iâve never seen her in personâ, he shrugged, âwho knows how she looks like at five oâclock in the morning?â
âProbably lacking the makeup, but Iâd wager sheâd still look stunning.â
âThe last actress I spoke to turned out to be a maniac with space goo oozing out of her head, so I think Iâll stick with youâ, he said jokingly and Y/N raised an eyebrow in sarcastic amusement.
âHow very kind of you.â
Changing their clothes into something that more resembled the gear worn by the US personnel in the area, they got ready to venture out as soon as possible. Y/N took notice of the nature, which was a dense jungle in those parts that had not been levelled by artillery or aerial or naval bombardment. It looked nice, but given the warning of snakes and giant crabs, she was still rather apprehensive.
Initially, they surveyed the street by car, which meant they couldnât stop indefinitely to take a closer look without arising suspicion. The entrance to the cave was far enough away from the street so that they hardly saw anything. Anything besides some trail that had been created by nothing but the times people having walked to and away from it.
Thompsonâs eyes scanned the area from behind the wheel. Some locals walked past them, many of them with groceries in hand. Once they had seen Y/N and Jack, they would look to the ground and hurry to get away, which might have been suspicious if not for the fact that presumably they expected them to be with the army, and hence, they didnât want to offend them or behave incorrectly.
Jack parked the car away from the presumed cave entrance, looking over to Y/N. They had prepared their cover â two biologists taking pictures and collecting samples of the local flora. Y/N had a good laugh when Jack briefed her â as the last job on earth he would and could possibly do was that of a biologist. Nevertheless, it offered an explanation for walking around with a camera. She, unfortunately, would have to pass as his assistant. In the bag she carried for him, she had different lenses, and beneath them, casually, the bomb that she would have to plant whilst he installed the camera. In total, they spent nearly five hours in the area, as to not appear to simply walk over to their desired position. That would have been highly suspicious. Rather, they slowly made their way towards the target, whilst on the way pretending to do what biologists would do.
For the first time ever, she envied Jack for his short hair, as despite having it tied up in a ponytail, she could feel the sweat in the nape of her neck as they stepped over scrubs and tree trunks towards the cave. They didnât need to use words, when they spotted the cave entrance, which was covered up by a makeshift layer of leaves, Y/N simply looked at Jack, then they got to work. Y/N focused on burying the bomb deep enough for no one to see it, and for there to be enough soil on top of it that one could walk over it without feeling it. The bomb wasnât sensitive to external forces, it was reinforced well-enough that a car couldâve driven over it without causing an explosion. It took some skill to position it correctly, but Y/N had enough experience to do it in under two minutes.
Jack hid the camera beneath branches and leaves, until it was nearly invisible. It was fortunate that the trees were fairly dense in the area nearby, meaning that it wasnât that likely that the sun would hit the lens in an angle that would give its position away. They nodded to confirm the other was done, then, they continued their cover mission for another hour. Now, they were just biologists collecting stuff. Lacking a camera.
âYou know what?â, Y/N huffed when they entered their car again, âI think I was unfair to L.A., at least in terms of weather.â
âYou think this is bad? Wait until it rains every single dayâ, Jack replied with a grin and turning on the engine, âI tell you, might be great for holiday, but for digging foxholes? Absolute nightmare.â
Y/N shuddered: âBut hey, we didnât encounter snakes. I count that as a massive win.â
âŚâŚâŚ.
Back in the apartment the military had assigned them, they set up the monitor to watch the scene.
âIâll take the nightshiftâ, Jack offered, âIâll wake you at five.â
âI can do the nightshift, tooâ, Y/N replied, âour sleep schedule is messed up from flying anyways.â
He waved his hand: âReally. I donât mind.â
She tilted her head, intently looking at his face.
âOh noâ, he said dryly, âdo I get another reading?â
âReading?â, she asked back.
âYeahâ, he huffed, âof you reading my thoughts.â
Y/N shrugged: âI was just wondering whether you were being nice, or if you donât like the thought of going to sleep here.â
âOn Okinawa, you mean?â
She raised her eyebrows as a âyesâ.
âMaybeâ, Jack said quietly, pulling over a chair to settle in, âMaybe I just want another chance at actually doing a nightshift properly.â
Y/N sighed silently, but decided to let it go. There was no point in arguing whilst on a mission. So instead, she got ready for a few hours of sleep. The morning would come soon enough, anyways.
Surveillance sounded incredibly thrilling on paper, whilst in reality, it basically meant looking at a screen or a building for a very long time. It meant that you had to figure out a mechanism to remain focused, but not get tired easily. It gave you a lot of time to think, but you werenât allowed to get lost in your thoughts.
Jack was delighted that the lab boys had managed to alter the lens so that he could still see what was happening, despite the lack of daylight. He had no idea how it worked, and truthfully, he did not care one bit.
He thought back to the night in spring 1945. It was L-Day plus two â two days after the invasion had begun, April 3rd. Tsuken Island was in the near the south of Okinawa prefecture, and they had made more progress in the first two days that they had anticipated. The fighting had been fierce, just two days later they would have managed to secure the entire Katsuren Peninsula. The island was under immense fire barrage, from the sea and air, and obviously from the now landed troops. Though the progress was good on paper, it was hellish for the men on the ground. They had landed in a freaking jungle, and most of the men who were here now came from rural America, more familiar with tornados than with monsoon. They had hardly slept, knowing that they had to secure the northern part of Okinawa as soon as possible to join up with the army down southeast to assist with the capture of Naha.
It had only been the third day, but Jack felt absolutely spent. Another invasion. And it would turn out to be another bloodbath. It would take 82 days to secure Okinawa. It would turn out to be 82 days in hell. And nights were terrible, anyways. The Japanese were proficient at silently infiltrating their ranks at night to ambush soldiers in their foxholes, which is why so many had forced themselves to push through with practically no sleep. Jack included. He had experienced multiple such attacks on Iwo Jima â unlike some of the other Marines and soldiers now making their way through Okinawa, he knew the enemy. After he had realised what he had done, after he had buried the flag and had gotten the praise from the men around him, which had made him sick to the stomach, he was right back in the mud. And it really turned into mud. After the initial days, the rain started to pick up. When they joined up with the southern force, the progress grinded to a halt. They hardly managed to gain an inch, and the hygienic conditions in their lines became abysmal. Not only were there the dead that could only slowly be evacuated, there was also human waste everywhere. However, what stuck with him forever was the civilians committing suicide. Mothers throwing their babies off cliffs before jumping themselves. All because of the propaganda that had been fed to them which told them that being captured by the Americans would be a fate worse than death. Hundreds of people mustâve died that way.
Iwo Jima had had one advantage. It hadnât been populated. No civilians died there. And knowing how the Japanese treated their own citizens, it made Jack dread the next operation. Everyone was sure that the next stop would be Japan proper â they didnât know about the atomic bomb yet. That was unknown to even high-ranking military officials. And seeing how much blood was shed over a tiny, uninhabited island, and now Okinawa, which was still tiny in comparison to mainland Japan, Jack had been convinced that America would run out of soldiers to send there before securing it. That they were spared that mission, well, it came at a great cost, too.
It was shortly after three in the morning when Jack noticed movement on the monitor. At first, he thought it was simply a wild animal or the bushes moving in the wind, but then, he saw two men carrying something to the entrance.
âWhat the hellâ, he muttered, squinting at the screen. No, he wasnât mistaken.
âY/N, wake up!â, he bellowed, causing Y/N to practically jump up from the bed.
âWhat?â
âYou recognise that?â, he asked, pointing at the screen.
She dashed over, and her jaw drop.
âThatâs the goddamn gamma cannonâ, Y/N said in a hollow voice.
âEither Vernon mustâve given blueprints to them, or Hugh Jones got a hold of them somehowâ, Jack guessed, damning his godfather to another century in hell.
âWell, I guess that means theyâre Arena Club associatesâ, Y/N stated, âAnd given that theyâre collaborating with a fella whoâs HYDRA, Iâd say terminate ASAP.â
âYou got that remote detonator?â
âYou bet I do.â
Thompson gave her a quick nod. Better blow them up now where the gamma cannon hadnât yet opened another rift, rather than having to rely on Howard Stark to help them restore the universe again.
Y/N didnât have to search long, the device was in her purse.
âIâd say cover your ears, but I suppose weâre clearâ, she said, looking at the device. It was strange. Knowing that sheâd end the life of some people she hadnât even met from relative safety. But that, 100 percent, had been a gamma cannon. She activated the device.
The blast dislodged the camera, and when it settled again, they couldnât see the entrance. They just saw demolished nature.
âGood to know it can withstand a freaking bombâ, Jack commented cynically.
âThis is rather anticlimacticâ, Y/N stated, âBut that caveâs collapsed now, for sure. That was enough TNT to take out an apartment block.â
Jack turned around to look at Y/N, standing there, in her dressing gown, and pin-curls in â which she still did, despite having said they wouldnât last due to the humidity â and just started grinning.
âWhat is so funny?â, she questioned, âI unfortunately hadnât had the time to get physically ready for a kill-mission!â
âYou look fantasticâ, he replied with a laugh, âJust⌠weâve come halfway across the world, to the place I perhaps hate the most, to hunt down some Japanese allies to HYDRA, after weâve gotten engaged like two weeks ago, my ma wants to talk to you so damn badly, and here we are, blowing up caves in the middle of the night whilst you found the time to pin-curl your hair. I think we give Peggy and Daniel a run for their money in terms of strange relationship.â
âOh honeyâ, she said sarcastically with a grin before bending down to kiss him, âWeâve never done normal.â
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ...
They drove to the position that had just blown up, where the military was already on scene.
âWhat the hell happened?â, Jack asked the lieutenant in charge.
âHell do I knowâ, the man shrugged, âLooks like they stepped on a mine. Or a bomb went off from the war.â
âAnyone injured?â
âHard to sayâ, the lieutenant used a flashlight to illuminate the area that had formerly been the entrance to the cave, âthereâs at least two feet of rubble burying anything. Looks like it hit a cave, though. A shame it only went off now, Iâm sure that bastard couldâve been more useful in 45.â
âYeahâ, Jack said with a humourless grin, âI agree.â
âYou were there?â
âYeah.â
âThank you, Agent Thompson.â
Jack looked at the lieutenant, confused. What did he thank him for? âFor being on Okinawa then?â, he asked irritated, âI just did what needed to be done. We all did.â
âSir!â, a soldier yelled from a few yards away, âWe found human remains!â
To call them âhumansâ wouldâve been an overstatement, as it was hard to make out what exactly they were. It was the number of hands that they could identify that made them realise that they had discovered two casualties. Nothing else was identifiable â age, height, nationality â they were blown into bits.
âWhat the hell were they doing in a cave, in the middle of the night?â, the lieutenant asked, frowning, âsoldier, step away! What the hell is that?â
He pointed to a piece of metal that reflected his flashlight.
Carefully, Thompson, L/N, and a handful of soldiers got off the debris burying the item. Y/N looked up at Thompson, who was himself looking at her.
The gamma cannon.
âWhat the hell?â
âLieutenantâ, Jack said, leading the man away from the group so that not every soldier could eavesdrop, âthat thing is a highly volatile machinery that can manipulate molecules. It was first invented by Howard Stark to aid the SSR with a domestic threat a few months ago. If those men got their hands on the blueprints, Iâd say we can all be damn grateful that they were blown to Judgement Day.â
The lieutenant looked at him visibly taken aback by the story: âAgent, youâre telling me some down-the-street Japs got their hands on blueprints by Howard Stark without any American office noticing it??â
âWe are currently looking into multiple such cases, unfortunately.â
âUnfortunately?â, the lieutenant snorted, âSir, weâre fucked if the reds get their hands on these weapons!â
Jack nodded: âBelieve me, lieutenant, thatâs what the SSR, the FBI and the CIA are working on to prevent. Keep this low-profile, though. Best our enemies donât know about this incident.â
âYou bet.â
âAnd if you find anyone alive in thereâ, Jack pointed to the cave with his chin, âdo yourself a favour and shoot. To kill. They ainât civilians.â
âI canât just kill people, weâre not at war-â
âOh, we areâ, Jack interjected, staring down the lieutenant in front of him, âIâll contact your supervisors. This is an order straight from DC.â
Y/N had watched the interaction from afar, knowing that the military was arguably even more male-dominated than the SSR and her presence would only have been seen as intrusive. After they had secured the remnants of the gamma cannon, Y/N and Jack removed themselves from the area, heading back to their apartment.
âThe goddamn gamma cannonâ, Y/N said in the car, âwould you have believed it?â
âHonestly, why is Starkâs security so freaking bad? His butler could do a better job protecting these items!â, Jack lamented frustratedly, âAnd why do we always end up running around the face of the earth to collect them again?â
âBecause⌠weâre paid for it?â
âSeverely underpaid if you ask meâ, he snorted, making a turn.
Y/N tilted her head, thinking. âWhat strikes me as unusual is that the only one who was around the cannon closely enough when Samberly worked on it, was Vernon. Why would Vernon pass this on to Jones or someone else in that club? I thought he wanted zero matter to go away.â
âDo I look like I understood that old muckety-muck?â, he asked, raising an eyebrow and causing Y/N to laugh at his choice of words.
âNo, and I think thatâs also a good thingâ, Y/N replied with a grin. She saw from the corner of her eyes that Jack was supressing a yawn. Though the sun was up by this point, that didnât change the fact that unlike her, he hadnât slept for a single hour since coming to Japan. âAlright, when weâre back, Iâll do the paperworkâ, she announced, referring to the documents and reports that would have to be written to wrap up their mission, âand you get some sleep.â
âI can-â
âNo.â
âYou didnât even hear what I was about to say!â, he complained.
âDonât have toâ, Y/N shrugged, âThis isnât a negotiation. And before weâre going on our journey back, I want this paperwork to be done and you to sleep.â
Jack sighed. âYes, mother.â
âYour mother would agree with me, and you know that.â
He scoffed: âThat doesnât mean you have a point, though. Ma would want to agree with you just because she adores you. I mean, she probably wouldâve put that ring on your finger for me if I hadnât managed to do it before you see her the next time.â
Y/N laughed: âWell, now she wonât have to do that. Which reminds me, we will have to squeeze in a visit between now and hunting down every last Arena Club member.â
âŚâŚâŚ..
They returned to their apartment at around 8:30. At 13:00, Jack woke up from his nap, joining Y/N at the desk.
âYouâre already doneâ, he realised when she handed him a stack of papers.
âIt was blissfully quietâ, she said with a smile, âand it wasnât that much.â
He sat down, flipping through the pages. Now, the next target were the members back in America.
âJackâ, Y/N said, her mood visibly darkened.
âHm?â, he looked up, realising that something was headed their way. Something he didnât yet know about.
âBefore we leftâ, Y/N began, âSousa called. We were in the office, and afterwards, surrounded by people we didnât know. I didnât want to have it affect our mission, as it has no effect on it. But now I need to tell you.â She didnât give him time to say anything before continuing: âThe L.A. office caught a lead regarding Kellerâs whereabouts. They sent four agents to arrest him. Apparently was supposed to be an easy task. Three of the men are dead. The fourth is missing. So is Keller.â She watched his eyes, which darkened, and his jaw tightened.
âHYDRA.â
âWe must assume that the SSR itself has been compromised. Whether it was just this one agent or multiple, I have no idea.â
âItâs a cancerâ, he said darkly, yet surprisingly calmly. âSometimes, the only way to kill it, is for the host to die.â
Y/N stared at him in shock: âWhat are you saying?â
âIf the SSR is compromised, it has to be reorganised.â
Y/N leaned back in her chair: âYou want to reorganise the SSR?â
âNoâ, Jack shook his head, âThatâs beyond my level. That would be Colonel Phillipsâ job. Heâs still the director. Iâll send word to him when weâre back.â
âWe might lose our jobs if the entire branch is restructured.â
Jack gave her a curious look: âYou say that because you think thatâs what Iâm concerned with?â Before she could answer, he added: âYou know, all screwups aside, we were decent at our jobs. Who knows, even if the SSR doesnât give us a job, we might find one within the FBI or the CIA.â
Y/N silently nodded. Perhaps, he was right. Perhaps, there was a new era ahead of them.
âI will inform Sousa when weâre backâ, she said quietly, looking outside the window, watching the dense forest outside swaying in the wind. It still struck her as odd â staying in such a tropical landscape just didnât seem right for what they had just done. For what Thompson had done here years ago. It looked more like a place for a beach vacation, rather than a bloody battlefield. âSeems like we can go back. And this time, we had no losses. No complications.â
âYeah.â
There was a moment of silence between them. âThereâs just one thing I have to get, first.â
Y/N looked up, whipping her head around. âJack-â
He raised his hand to interrupt her. âI canât keep it here. I should be back by tomorrow, we can fly back then.â
âJack Thompsonâ, Y/N said slowly, standing up to stand right in front of him, lowering herself down to the desk he was sitting at to be on eye-level with him. He expected her to tell him to just leave it, that there were certain things one keeps buried. But she didnât. âLike hell you are going there by yourself. I couldnât be here in 1945, but I sure as hell will be here with you, now.â
âŚâŚ..
Approaching the island by boat, Y/N saw the coastline approaching through her binoculars.
âThatâs Tsuken Island?â, she asked, looking over to Jack.
âNot much left after we were done with it.â
âItâs⌠it looks like it was firebombed!â, Y/N pointed out. Jack raised an eyebrow.
âIn many ways, it was.â
The island was tiny â just over 2 kilometres in length and over 1 kilometre in width. Only in the north one could see a couple of palm trees, the centre section of the island was completely burnt to the ground. Craters scarred the earth, and the only semblance of life was another military base in the islandâs south.
âYou know where we have to walk? There are hardly any landmarks to orient us fromâ, Y/N pointed out when they left the boat.
âI know. We had to know the coordinates from our camps.â
Of course they did. Y/N clenched her jaw. She wished there was a way for her to know what Jack was going through right now, but he had closed off. As he had for the initial months they spent working together after the war. There was nothing in his eyes or on his face. He looked like the poster-soldier, steely eyed and tough, solely focused on his mission.
They walked for what felt like ages, but really, it probably was just under half an hour. They reached a field that was in an area that was relatively well-protected, and ideally suited for a makeshift camp site. He didnât have to say that they were here, she knew it. Jackâs eyes scanned the area. To the side of the field, there were a few tree trunks that had survived the war, and the weather. Jack walked towards them, bent down, and started to search the soil beneath them with his hands. Y/N simply stood back and watched him. It didnât take long. The flag wasnât buried six feet underground, it was covered by maybe two inches of soil.
Holding it in his hands, Jack could only stare at the piece of cloth. That cloth had haunted him for years.
He didnât cry. He didnât even feel sad holding it, after all, it wasnât like he had ever forgotten it. It didnât bring back any memories he didnât already have on repeat in his brain.
No, there was almost a certain solace in holding it.
âIâm sorryâ, he said, quietly, he wasnât even sure Y/N could hear it, âYou werenât meant to die that day. Iâm sorry I made the wrong call that day.â
He folded the flag neatly, folding it small enough for him to be able to put it in his pocket. Then, he stood up and turned to Y/N. âCome on. Letâs start a fire.â
Quietly, the two of them assembled enough wood to ignite a small fire. Jack watched the flames, thinking about their faces. He hadnât been able to figure out their names, they had no name tags on them. They remained nameless, but their faces would forever be with him.
Then, he pulled out the folded flag.
âRest easy.â
Y/N watched him throw the flag into the flame, catching fire instantly. âRest in peace. At last, it did arrive in Japan, too.â
Without another word, she took his hand as they watched the flag turn to dust. When it had gone, Jack finally looked up. Looked at Y/N. They had been to hell in their own ways. She in Europe, he in the Pacific. They had killed people in front of each other, they had killed for the other. They had come face to face with their darkest past in front of the other. She had followed him to his own personal hell.
âWhy are you crying now?â
Was he- he was. He shook his head aggressively, really not wanting to cry right now and rubbed his tears away with the back of his hand.
âNothingâ, he said and cleared his throat, âJust. Thank you.â
She smiled. âAlways.â
A/N: One more history lesson about the Pacific War, and the final stage of World War Two, which is often neglected by simply jumping to the result of the atomic bombs. Itâs crazy to think none of the soldiers had an idea that they WOULDNâT be asked to invade Japan proper. From their testimonies it becomes clear: They were certain that this would have been a suicide mission. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and as always, I ask for nothing but a little comment or something that stood out in the chapter! It really helps any creator out there, let me tell you! Also, I hope you enjoy the little story arc with Jackâs reckoning with his own past. First the Navy Cross, now the flag. The two reminders of his most severe mistake.Â
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Jack Thompson x Reader
What Lies Before UsÂ
Previous Chapters (and Book 1)Â
Chapter 13
From what the doctors said, Sousa would need to stay in the hospital for about a week â mostly for observation and wound dressing.
Jack had handed the file he had discovered in the cupboard to Peggy to look through whilst they were still at the hospital.
The file contained, as he had suspected, intel on all the members of the 107th, but it was more than that. It contained information on Peggy, too, and even Steve, who was listed as âpossibly dead/missingâ.
âThey file inconsistentlyâ, Peggy remarked, flipping through the pages, âIf they list Steve as missing, they shouldâve listed James Barnes as missing, too.â Unfortunately, this inconsistency in filing would remain a mystery none of them would crack during their lifetimes.
âDid you know HYDRA worked globally?â, Y/N asked, looking through some parts of the file herself.
âYeah, I mean, Germanic territories and America does mean they work internationallyâ, Jack replied with a shrug.
âThanks, Jack, that much was clearâ, she snorted, âNo, I mean actually globally. There are coordinates here that, if Iâm not mistaken, would place it somewhere in the middle of absolutely nowhere in the Pacific Ocean where theyâve just established a base. I mean, actually globally.â
âThe Pacific Ocean?â, Peggy asked, visibly confused. Whilst she spoke, Y/N looked up, searching for Jackâs face.
âHow well do you know the Pacific Ocean?â
His face was absolutely stoic as he replied: âWell enough.â
â26â30 degrees north, 128â00 -â
âEast?â
âYeahâ, Y/N looked up from the papers, âWhy-â
âYou donât forget the location of hellâ, he snorted cynically, but he said it with a frozen voice. âThatâs on Okinawa.â
Y/N didnât know what to say. It was horrible enough that they were hunting HYDRA again, and now this?
âYouâre telling meâ, she said lowly, âthat on one of the most heavily fortified American positions in the entire freaking pacific, HYDRA managed to open a base just a few months ago and no one noticed??â
âThe entire island resembles a honeycomb. If they used the trench system to hide it, they might as well be invisibleâ, Jack replied surprisingly calmly.
âSo now, what, HYDRAâs expanding into Asia? Cooperating with the Japanese that werenât happy about the surrender?â, Sousa questioned, trying to make sense of this development.
Jack shrugged, leaning against the wall: âNo clue. Canât say we ever came across HYDRA when we were there, then again, I doubt theyâd introduce themselves like that. I guess they share some similarities. Not least did the Japanese research a great deal on biological weapons and human enhancement.â
Y/N raised an eyebrow: âLike Mengeleâs guys?â
He nodded: âI just think no one survived. But the documents were partially transferred to the US after the war. Other parts went to Russia. Who knows what happened with the rest.â
âComforting.â
Y/N once again took notice by the visible separation between Jack and â well â the rest of them. Sousa, Carter and her, they had all served in the European theatre. They had all fought the Nazis, and Nazi sympathisers, on European soil. He, on the other hand, had made his experiences in war literally on the opposite side of the world, with a different enemy. They might as well have fought in two different wars altogether â the only thing that loosely tied it together was the term âSecond World Warâ. But it really wasnât âa warâ. It was many wars, happening at the same time. And she had only begun to understand just how difficult that had to be for him â after all, whenever Sousa or Carter or she mentioned something about the Nazis, the others just understood. Because they had been there, because they had seen them. The only Japanese she had ever seen were those that were interned in the US camps during the war.
âHow come Iâve never heard of these guys?â, Sousa asked, causing Y/N to look over.
âYou think weâd want to accuse our new buddies against the Communist East of these sorts of crimes?â, Jack asked back, cynicism dripping from each word, âUnlike Germany, most of the leaders remain in place.â
âRightâ, Y/N folded her hands, âRight. We need all the aerial photography from the area from the last six months. I suppose the US Army Air Forces would be the place for that.â
âNo, not anymore, itâs the Air Force now. Got their own branch just a few weeks agoâ, Jack specified, causing Y/N to roll her eyes at his nit-picking.
âNever mind, then the Air Forceâ, she huffed, âand I suppose weâll have to reach out to the CIA now, too. I donât really want to run into our own guys without them being briefed weâre there.â
âYouâre not seriously planning on going there, right, Y/N?â, Sousa asked, âIn case you havenât noticed, the people youâre after are incredibly dangerous and tend to ask questions after they shoot!â He pointed at his bandages for proof.
Y/N simply shrugged: âWhat do you want to do, Sousa? If you have some sort of other branch of government you trust more than the SSR to handle this, and I canât really say anything about the CIA yet, theyâve literally come into existence a few months ago, then by all means, give them a ring. But the last time I checked, the SSRâs main purpose was to hunt HYDRA, and this very much looks like it.â
She looked over to Peggy: âYou understand, donât you?â
Peggy looked at her sympathetically. Of course she did. But she also knew that she couldnât abandon L.A. right now, because they still had to hunt down their Arena Club people connected to Frost, and with Sousa not on 100 percent, losing Peggy was out of the picture.
âOf course I do.â
Y/N felt an immense weight being placed upon her â though she knew that it was wrong. She wouldnât be the one to suffer the most, she feared.
âYou remember what I said before you went to Boston?â, Y/N asked silently without looking at Jack. âI intend to keep up my end of the bargain, now I need your word that you will keep up yours.â
âŚâŚâŚ.
âLook, thereâs a freaking difference between shadowing an individual on home soil and travelling across the globe to possibly take out a foreign installation!â, Jack almost yelled when they entered his hotel room, âNow, Iâm not sayinâ we send no one, but this isnât a one-man-show!â
âIf we can verify what it is, we wonât have to infiltrate, Jack!â, Y/N shot back, âWe just have to take it out. And sorry, but pulling the remote trigger of a bomb, I can manage that just fine.â
She waited for the next barrage of words to fly at her â another verbal explosion to go off. But though he looked like he was just about to start again, abruptly, he shut his mouth and turned away.
For the second time in under 24 hours, Thompson had defied all versions of his behaviour Y/N had prepared herself for.
âNothing?â, Y/N asked, âYouâre just giving me the silent treatment??â
âLook, put yourself in my shoesâ, he said without turning around, âweâre freaking agents. First and foremost. And you can go through the list of all the people within the SSR, from West to East Coast, and tell me. Whoâs the most qualified?â He turned around now, his face stern as if he had internally given himself a slap in the face to man-up: âOf all the men here, hardly a handful served in the Pacific. Harrow spent time on the Philippines, and two of Sousaâs guys in Guadalcanal. Last time I checked, I was the only one whoâs been to Okinawa. Now take your pick. Agent Carter logic. That will be me.â
She looked at him in silence. He wasnât wrong. She knew that. Still, that didnât make it hurt any less.
âYouâre not thinking as an agentâ, Y/N reminded herself, taking a single breath to focus. âYouâre right, Agent Thompson. Actually, you are exactly right. Neither of us is thinking rationally right now. This is a mission on Okinawa, which means that you are on the ballot. And it most likely means dealing with HYDRA. Which means you still need someone who speaks German. Which means I am coming, too. And no, I donât accept the entire âone man is saferâ or âyouâve done enoughâ speech. Last time, God knows why, you volunteered to go on that island. And for some wicked reason, here we are and here you volunteer again. Well, I volunteer for you not to go in there alone. That ainât happening.â
He was about to open his mouth to say something, probably a last attempt to dissuade her, but Y/N only raised a finger.
âNah, donât waste your breath, agentâ, Y/N cut in, âBecause Iâm not listening.â
If anything, he looked pained at her resolve.
âIt wonât be like 1945â, she said quietly, âand it wonât be like our mission in DC, either, where we wanted to retrieve that blueprint. If we can verify the nature and location of it, we will blow it to hell. And by God, given the amounts of shells and undetonated bombs still in the area, I doubt anyone will bet an eye.â
It wasnât that he was afraid for her, or, for that matter, for himself. She wasnât wrong â it wasnât an extraction mission, not a rescue mission. If the base was HYDRA, theyâd blow it up with everyone and anyone inside it. Carter might have wanted to choose a different route, one that was inherently more dangerous, but not him. And apparently, not Y/N, either. No, he wasnât afraid because of that.
He hated the island. He hated it equally, though that was hard to fathom, as Iwo Jima. He hated the thought of seeing the ruins of Shuri Castle or the hills of all the damn Ridges â Tombstone, Kakazu, Cactus, and countless others. He hated the thought of that enough to want to throw up again, even though his headache had begun to lessen. How would he react once he was actually there again? And of all the people in the world, he really didnât want her to see it, whilst simultaneously wanting no one else there in her stead.
It was a paradox he couldnât get his head around.
âYeahâ, he said, not saying a word about what he had just thought about, âItâll be a walk in the park.â
âŚâŚâŚ.
Y/N wasnât blind, she could tell from six miles away that every fibre in Jackâs being didnât want to go there, even as he pushed his mind in the other direction â stubborn, and, though some might find that hard to believe, dutiful as he was.
They first had to fly back to New York, so on the plane there, Y/N decided to do most of the talking, if that was required.
âYou know, as much as I hated being there, I saw some beautiful landscapes in southern Germany. The Alps are a sight to behold â though, I suppose, you could now visit them in less hostile territory in France or Switzerland. But they were amazingâ, Y/N said, recounting the images of immensely tall mountains, whose tips were covered in snow and ice all year around. â
âCanât say I can compete with thatâ, he said dryly, âIwo Jima is a pile of smoking rock, and Okinawa is a single subtropical health hazard. Wanna know what my companyâs first enemy was? Wasnât a soldier. It was a snake. Apparently, they have venomous snakes on Okinawa.â
âOh.â
âGood news, the bite can be lethal, but most often, it wasnât. Had many who were still unable to fight after being bitten by one of those things. The locals called them Habu, I think.â
âRightâ, Y/N nodded, âSo Iâll stay six feet away from snakes. Other potential death traps, humans aside?â
âPossibly mosquitos, otherwise, not necessarily deadly. Giant crabs and a bunch of lizardsâ, he shrugged.
âSo itâs basically like Australia minus the deadly spiders?â, she raised an eyebrow, âWonderful location for the biggest landing force of humankind to wage a battle.â
He snorted at her sarcasm. âYeah.â
Y/N pondered about what to say next, she just wanted the silence to not become piercing, and for him to get lost in his thoughts.
âSo, Germans have their beer and their schnapps, whatâs Japan got to offer? I feel like every country has some alcohol in store.â
âCall me biased, but Asian alcohol is strangeâ, he pulled a grimace, ârice wine, sake.â
âWell, Iâm pretty sure you wouldnât have been able to taste the difference about twenty hours agoâ, she remarked dryly, receiving an elbow to the side, causing her to laugh.
âIn all fairnessâ, she said with a grin, âI never warmed up to schnapps, either. Tasted like disinfectant to me. And the food, well. It was pretty bad towards the end of the war, shortages almost anywhere. But, I guess, it spared me the experience of Army rations.â
âOurs werenât that bad. I mean, they were disgusting, but they were big enough for us not to starveâ, Jack shrugged with a grin, âthough I canât say that spam is a real delicacy.â
âI betâ, Y/N laughed, âcold tinned pork mash doesnât sound like a feast.â
He tilted his head: âI guess that was the one advantage of being stuck on Iwo Jima. We could bury the rations in the ground and the volcanic heat would warm them.â
She looked at him in disbelief: âWell, I guess you were at least inventive.â
âHad to be. Guess that helps now where we fight anything from kid assassins to hardcore Nazis.â
âYou make us sound way cooler than the filing mess that we produce on an average dayâ, Y/N remarked with a grin, âBut donât say Sousa I said that. Otherwise, heâll be pissed that I didnât make the caveat that his filing is âimpeccableâ.â
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ.
Arguably, the only upside Jack could find right now was that they were headed to Okinawa in early December, which was both one of the coolest, as well as driest months possible. Though both of these things were relative â the weather was still warm, and rain was always possible. It wasnât monsoon season though, unlike the last time he was stuck there, when their foxholes and trenches turned into a field of mud.
Whilst he was talking to the lab boys regarding the tech they would take with them, Y/N was collecting all the files they could potentially use regarding HYDRA, or Japanese bio experiments.
The phone rang, and Y/N didnât even have the time to rattle down her usual greeting.
âY/N, itâs Sousa.â
âShouldnât you be in the hospital?â, Y/N asked, a bit taken aback.
âIn a perfect world, probably.â
She noticed the tone in his voice, knowing something was seriously wrong.
âWhatâs happened?â
âDonât repeat a word, just say yes and relay it to Thompson.â
âYes.â She had a hunch where that was headed, being reminded of the Owens-debacle from not that long ago.
âWe caught a lead out in Nevada that Kellerâs been seen thereâ, he began, âso we sent a bunch of agents to track and arrest him. We sent four agents, now three are dead. And the fourth one and Keller have vanished.â
Y/Nâs face froze. She knew what he was getting at. But she knew she had to control her reaction, so she didnât say anything, she didnât do anything.
âY/N? You still there?â
âYes, Danielâ, Y/N said calmly, âI understand. I understand exactly what you mean. I will let him know. Iâll call back when weâre back in the US.â
She ended the call and continued her filing. HYDRA, it would seem, wasnât just not dead. HYDRA had infiltrated the SSR.
At this point, she felt little more than disillusionment. She had been willing to risk her life again and again for the SSR, and for everything they stood for â only to figure out that not only had a covert Soviet organisation infiltrated their ranks, no, so did HYDRA. And if that was the case for the SSR, then chances were, the other branches of the intelligence services had been infiltrated, too.
Looking up, Y/N clenched her teeth.
Right now, it didnât matter. Mission One was to find, and destroy, that target on Okinawa. Mission Two was to find and kill Keller. And long-term Mission Three was to hunt down every last member of the Arena Club, where now, she didnât care anymore that they didnât have exact proof to pin on every one individually speaking. She now placed them under general suspicion without differentiation.
âYou ready?â
Her eyes met Jackâs.
âAlways.â
âŚâŚâŚ.
Getting to Okinawa was an endeavour all by itself. First to L.A. to change, then to Hawaii to change, then to Guam to refuel and then to Okinawa. The flight from Hawaii onward was only the two of them, and a bunch of Armed Forces personnel headed into the occupied zone.
Y/N had decided to not bring up the issue of HYDRA within the SSR until they had finished Mission One. First, it didnât affect their mission plan, and second, she didnât feel like she was able to talk openly about it in the office, or on the plane. In both instances, there were too many potential listeners around them. And slipping over a note felt incredibly inappropriate given the gravity.
She could already see that once they had set foot on Guam, that Jackâs personality became more alert, more, well, more on-duty. Maybe it had been the familiar scents, the familiar scenery. The soldiers that were fairly visible everywhere. Maybe it was just the knowledge that soon, heâll be back to the place he had never wanted to see again since getting the chance to leave it alive.
They landed in Naha in the early afternoon. It was like being thrown back into summer, having left the winter of New York far behind. It was a beautiful day, at least it was in theory. The war was still very visible in the city â airfield aside, and military bases aside, much of the area was still damaged, or under reconstruction. Even without knowing exactly what the battle had looked like, Y/N directly knew that they were standing on â essentially â a graveyard.
âYouâre gonna be alright?â, Y/N asked when the two entered a vehicle they had been given by the military.
Jackâs eyes were fixed solely on the road: âYeah. We have work to do.â
A/N: So sorry for the longer pause in between updates - the last weeks were a bit all over the place. However, I am incredibly happy to announce that I had VERY good reason for that: I have just been confirmed to have met all the necessary criteria to start my PhD this autumn. I am beyond excited!Â
I am, as always, incredibly appreciative of all sort of feedback - comments, hearts, reblogs! They make all the effort worth it by a mile
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Jack Thompson x Reader
What Lies Before UsÂ
Masterlist (Book 1 and previous chapters)
Chapter 12
âY/N L/N, SSR, with whom am I speaking?â, Y/N picked up the phone at the office, having spent the entire day trying to occupy herself with some task to keep her mind off Jack and Daniel.
âY/N?â
âRose?â, Y/N asked, recognising the voice of the woman who had once worked here in New York before changing to Sousaâs office in L.A. âYou sound terrible! Is something wrong?â
âOh, Y/N, itâs awful!â
âWhatâs wrong?â, Y/N asked, feeling her blood freeze.
There was only one reason Rose would call her now. In that tone. Something mustâve happened.
âŚ.
âMr. Thompson, weâre sorry, but at this moment, thereâs nothing we can tell you!â, the nurse said, taking a step back from the furious man in front of her.
âWhat dâyou mean you canât??â, he fumed, âThen get a doctor on the line!â
âSir, the doctors are busy doing surgery on your friend-â
âI get that, sweetheart, but whatâs the prognosis??â, he interrupted harshly.
The lady threw her hands up in the air: âSir, we donât have one yet, he was wheeled in just minutes ago, but I can promise-â
âI donât need promises, I need a doctor!â
âSirâ, a bunch of security guards came down the hallway, âItâs better you leave now. Thereâs nothing anyone can do for you here at this moment.â
âAre you freaking kidding me?â, Thompson cussed, stepping towards the guards, who probably assumed that he was about to lash out, so they grabbed his arms, turned them behind his back and shoved him outside the hospital.
âFor your own good, kidâ, the older guard hissed before shoving him out the door.
âGoddammit!â, Jack yelled into the void. Should he turn back? Theyâd probably call the cops if he did, SSR badge be damned. He couldnât bear the thought of calling Peggy. He wanted to call Y/N, just to have her near. But he didnât deserve that. He wasnât the one injured, hell, he didnât even get scratched. Why the hell was he always the one whose comrades took the bullet, the grenade? Why did he always get out alive, unscathed? He managed to pull himself together in the car to call the L.A. office to inform them, incredibly grateful that it was Rose who picked up, not Peggy. He could already see the brunette getting on the next plane to Boston. Probably, Stark could get her here faster than any other person in the United States, probably even faster than the president.
After the call, he felt absolutely empty. There was only guilt there. It was there with such intensity that he had only experienced once before â on Tsuken Island, when he had realised he had just killed six innocent boys. He gripped his steering wheel as tightly as possibly, mechanically driving back to their hotel. In hindsight, he was quite amazed he didnât crash the car along the way. There was one way to make that feeling more bearable, he had done it a dozen times in the first months after the incident on Okinawa. It had become less frequent lately, perhaps because he almost managed to convince himself that he deserved happiness. But by God, today, he didnât even believe heâd deserve a tomorrow. He just needed it to stop â that pain, that guilt, whatever means it took to get them to become muted.
âŚâŚ..
âHe was what?â, Y/N asked Rose when she had landed in Boston.
âHe said something about being kicked out of the hospital. He seemed very upset, Y/N.â
âI betâ, Y/N bit her lip, âany news from the hospital?â It was about four hours after the initial call, after which Y/N bribed anyone she could find at LaGuardia Airport to get on the next plane headed to Boston.
âHeâs stableâ, she said, causing Y/N to exhale. Stable didnât mean much â a comatose person was, theoretically speaking, stable.
âAnd the surgery?â
âHe lost a lot of bloodâ, Rose said quietly, âapparently he was hit multiple times.â
âBut blood loss can be dealt withâ, Y/N replied, hopeful that no worse news were imminent.
âThey said he was lucky. Do you think that means heâll pull through?â
âI mean, if they didnât think he would, I doubt theyâd say heâs luckyâ, Y/N said grimly, âas by definition, otherwise he wouldnât be lucky. Whenâs Peggy gonna land?â
âI think thatâll take another three hours or so.â
âRight, Iâll go talk to the people at the hospitalâ, Y/N said quietly, âand then Iâll search Jack.â
âI already instructed the hospital to increase securityâ, Rose said, âand if they have anything on Daniel, they call me right away. Y/N, go search your fiancĂŠ. I can handle the rest.â
Y/N sighed slowly: âYou immediately call me if I can do something. Anything. You understand?â
âYes, Y/N.â
âThank you, Roseâ, Y/N said before ending the call. She knew which hotel Daniel and Jack were staying in. She just hoped Jack didnât go on some stupid suicide mission on his own.
âŚâŚ.
âExcuse me, Iâm searching for the room Jack Thompson is staying inâ, Y/N told the concierge, who looked at her rather confused â it was, probably, rather unusual to see a woman storm into the lobby, demanding to know what room a guest is staying in.
âDarling, we are prohibited to give out our guestsâ room numbers to strangersâ, the man informed her, adjusting his glasses whilst eyeing her.
Incredibly annoyed, Y/N waved her hand in front of his face: âHeâs my fiancĂŠ, good sir, so you better hurry your ass or I will get the information myself by taking that book from you!â
âMilady-â
âSirâ, she shoved a fiver in his hands, âLike I said, you better hurry.â
A bit taken aback, he glanced down, consulting his book.
âThat would be 241bâ, he said.
âThanksâ, Y/N said, turning around.
âWonât you need a key?â
âNo, I can manageâ, Y/N replied curtly without wasting another second talking to this very unhelpful man and dashing upstairs. Floor 2, room 241b. It was easy to find. She knocked. Nothing. She knocked again. âJack?â Nothing. One last time. âThompson?!â
Was he out? Looking at the lock, she knew that it would be easy to open. Most hotel rooms were. It took her no time to make it spring open. She hadnât even opened the door when she could smell the familiar scent of hard liqueur, probably whiskey, bourbon, or something in that realm.
âOh no.â
âJack?â, she repeated, closing the door behind her.
âY/N?â
âYeah.â
âIâm fine.â
She had to walk through a narrow corridor to see the main part of the room, so at first, she only heard his voice, not seeing him. He sat on the desk, staring outside the window, bottle in his hand.
âYeahâ, Y/N said dryly, âYouâre doing amazing. I can see that from miles away.â
She heard him huff. âIâm good.â
âYouâre a godawful liar.â
He turned his head so that he could see her. And she could see him. It wasnât in his genetics to look terrible. But for his standards, he looked abysmal. The best Y/N could describe it was as if he hadnât seen a bed in a week. She didnât have to see his eyes to know that he had been drinking, the smell and â well â the bottle beside him were proof of that already, but they were glazed over. It probably wasnât just the alcohol, but the guilt.
âIt wasnât your fault.â
âYou donât even know what happened.â
âDid you pull the trigger?â, Y/N asked, crossing her arms, âNo? Well, then I suppose it wasnât your fault.â Life was, of course, more nuanced than that â but she knew Jack better than anyone. She knew he didnât act carelessly, or at least not more than was human, when other peopleâs lives were on the line. It had been an accident.
She walked closer, knowing full-well that there were no words in the English language â or in any language â to make this alright. She simply sat beside him, putting one arm around his shoulders whilst taking a hold of the â now identified â bottle of whiskey.
âGive me that.â
âJack Thompson, most people would be at the hospital after this muchâ, Y/N declared, lifting it up to see how much of the liquid was gone, âand given the hospital staff isnât your biggest fan, thatâs probably not where you want to end up today.â
âPlease.â
She winced at his tone. âNo.â Y/N pressed her lips together: âIt wonât help, not in the long run.â
âI donât care about the long run right now.â
âYeah, but I doâ, Y/N replied silently, âI care a lot.â
âWhy?â
âWhy do I care?â, she asked confused, âWhere should I start? How about that â youâre my best friend. Hell, youâre family. Why wouldnât I care? After all, I love you.â
She should feel him shaking his head. âThen youâre real dumb.â
âNo, Iâm probably the only one in the room whoâs currently judiciousâ, she replied.
âWhyâd you come? You shouldnât have.â
âOh yeah?â, Y/N lifted up the well-used bottle of whiskey, âand then what? Iâll do anything for you, but Iâm not gonna bury you.â
âJust everyone else.â
Y/N had heard enough. Enough guilt, enough self-loathing â at least for one day. âJack Thompsonâ, Y/N turned around to face him, grabbing his chin so that he had no option but to look at her. She searched for his hollow eyes: âYou listen to me. No one died today. Sousaâs one tough son of a bitch, so you donât give up before he does. And tomorrow, when youâre actually a human being again, we will go see him. Alright? Everything is going to be alright. He agreed to come with you. And you didnât pull that trigger. Now, you can tell me all you want that bullet was meant for you â tough luck. Things turned out different. We all make choices, and he made his. Thatâs not on you.â
âI triggered the booby-trap.â
âYou can tell me the details another time, Jack. I donât need to hear them nowâ, Y/N replied quietly, gently running her finger along his cheek, âRight now, all you need to know is that no one has died on your watch today. His surgeries were successful. Heâs stable. And you.â She pointed to the bed behind them, âYou should sleep now.â She felt deeply sorry, sorry for Sousa, who was injured, but she also felt sorry for Jack. Most of the time, he had the best of intentions in mind. Whether that was on Okinawa, when he wanted to protect his C.O. or whether it was here. But that didnât matter to him when things turned out wrong. It didnât lessen the guilt he carried. She pressed her lips together. There was nothing that she could do or say to lessen that, and that made her feel incredibly powerless. Â
âWhy are you here, Y/N?â
âYouâve asked me that alreadyâ, Y/N sighed, âthe real question is, why did you think I wouldnât be here? Why do you think you deserve to be alone?â She didnât expect an answer, and she didnât get one. âBecause if it is for the reason of guilt, whether that is getting people killed during your time at the SSR, or from earlier, from the war, then by Godâs name, donât. Jack, you know my file. You know that all my team members died in 1944 or 1945. Most of them died because of me. Because I wasnât there when they needed me most. You need to let it go, otherwise youâll join them sooner than later. And then, no one gets saved. Because then, no one is here to continue the fight.â She paused. âPeople like us, we donât get to quit. They need us to keep going, even if they never ever thank us. And I need you to keep going, because I cannot do this alone.â
She was pretty sure that he would have cried right then and there if he had tears left to cry.
âCome onâ, she said, pushing herself off the desk and holding out her hand to him, not really trusting his sense of direction or ability to walk currently. And the last thing she wanted to do was patch up some wound from him falling over.
Visibly reluctantly, he took her hand and stood up.
âEasy thereâ, she said as she felt his weight slip away from her and pulling him back. It felt half-familiar. This was by no means the first time she saw him drunk â actually, she stopped counting approximately in their third week of their second semester at university, but still. This was way different. She had seen him in a great many states, but not like this. She hadnât seen him shattered.
Y/N dropped him onto the bed, biting her lip.
He looked up to her: âWhat about you? Youâre headed out?â
âBy Godâs name, noâ, she said, sitting down next to him, âIâm not leaving you, you understand? Youâre stuck with me.â As a matter of fact, she wasnât sure if it was even safe to leave him. She had no idea when, and how quickly, he had worked on that whiskey. He was in a bad shape, for sure, but arguably, it could turn from bad to worse, and if it did, someone had to be there. And as so often, that someone had always been her.
To keep her mind occupied, she grabbed his hand and started to massage it. She had no idea for whom this was more soothing â but at least, he did fall asleep quite quickly.
She simply stared at his face. When she had come to Boston, she had prepared herself for a great many things. A furious Thompson. A short-fused Thompson. A frustrated Thompson. But nothing couldâve prepared her for this â a shattered Jack.
Yeah. It felt very different than the countless times she had stood in the bar, talking absent-mindedly to her girlfriends from university, just to keep an eye on him during his attempts to finally become the high-score holder for the Piccadilly Commando ranking.
âHow did your feedback turn out? Professor Morton really didnât like my writing style, can you believe it?â
Y/Nâs eyes were fixed on something completely different when Lara had asked her about her latest essay.
âUh⌠no, he was quite happy with mine, I thinkâ, she responded with a two-second delay, âWouldâve liked more depth, which is difficult considering I was already at the absolute maximum of the word count.â
Lara had followed her gaze. âOh, is it Commando night again?â
âWhen isnât it Commando night?â, Y/N muttered with mild annoyance, âDamn Nick for bringing that atrocity over from the UK.â
âCome on, the Englishman is charming!â
âYou think?â, Y/N raised an eyebrow at Lara, who laughed. Y/N found Nick to be a great many things â loud, posh, and self-assured, but charming wouldnât even make her top 20 adjectives to describe the man.
âWell, Iâm not gonna go after Jack, if you know what Iâm saying.â
Y/N shot her a deadpan look: âNo, Lara, as a matter of fact, I donât. Weâre friends. Not more, not less. So if you wanna give it a shot, by all means. But let me warn you. Heâs a handful when heâs tired, drunk or hungry.â âHow often do I have to explain that to her?â, Y/N thought, âJack and I are friends. Friends-Friends, with no add-on.â
Y/N and Lara were now both facing the table where the group of men were playing that weird card game Y/N never bothered to understand, and which had the main purpose of getting its participants absolutely shitfaced. Jack and Nick aside, it was a group of eight, including a member of the universityâs baseball team, Kenneth Brown. Y/N had always found him incredibly importunate. A roaming sound came from the group, and Y/N saw Nick look from Jack to Kenneth in somewhat disoriented anticipation. The mood had shifted quickly from competitive and happy, to, well, tense.
Y/N exhaled: âWhy canât he pick the freaking math kid to piss off at least once in his life?â Hearing Lara chuckle in the back, she had already begun to manoeuvre her way through the hall of drunken people to the desk where Kenneth took a swing at Jack, hitting him in the jaw, only to be hit in the nose himself. The two men stood up, ready to exchange further blows, just as Y/N had reached them.
âKennethâ, she said with a forced smile, âIâll proof-read your work for Professor Smith for next week if you let it go.â
âY/N, donât-â
âYou shut upâ, Y/N turned to Jack in annoyance, before turning back to Kenneth: âDeal?â
âSure thing, sweetheart.â He took off with a grin that made her want to throw up, but she was too busy being annoyed at the man behind her to get offended by the man in front of her.
âThatâs number fourâ, she said, âIn two months, four!â She turned to Nick: âYour gameâs over for today?â
The Brit only nodded, still somewhat startled at the scene â which actually surprised her, given this happened almost every time they played this stupid game.
âBrilliant.â She grabbed Jackâs arm, only to realise the other one had somehow gotten a hold of the bottle of whiskey the men had shared at the table before she arrived. âYouâre kidding me, right?â
He lazily grinned and took a swig. She was SO close to grabbing the bottle and throwing it right across the hall, but she didnât want to cause a bigger scene than it already was, considering she was basically dragging him outside. And it was a dragging, indeed.
âNo, wrong directionâ, she grunted when he was about to stumble into the opposite direction from his place.
âOh, right.â
âYeah right.â It came out a lot harsher than she had intended, but she supposed that thatâs what happened when she was very annoyed.
âYou angry?â
âNo, I love dragging you out of barsâ, she retorted cynically, watching him take another swig from the bottle. âDonât you think youâve had your share for the night?â She grabbed the bottle and wrestled with him for it, but winning against a drunk guy wasnât that hard.
âHey!â
âYouâll thank me tomorrow.â
The walk to his place was about 15 minutes, give or take. Maybe closer to 20 under these circumstances, and Y/N was freezing, but that didnât concern her that much. What was more concerning was the eventual silence between them. The Thompson-scale-of-drunk was rather predictable, it went you-donât-even-know-he-drank/he-makes-blunt-remarks/he-gets-irritable-and-vocal/disorientation-and-vocal-slurring/silence. Stage two was the best, stage silence was what happened on the days he went too far, even for his rather impressive limits.
âKeysâ, she announced when they had reached the door and took them out of his hand, not wanting to spend three minutes next to him trying to get the key inside the keyhole. She stepped inside, turning on the light.
Behind her, Jack leaned his forehead against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.
âYou good?â
âYeah.â
Y/N stood there, contemplating to leave right now and leave him to his own devices. Her thought process was cut short by him gagging.
âYeahâ, she couldnât help but to remark cynically whilst guiding him into the bathroom, âyouâre fantastic.â
After making sure he wouldnât hit his head anywhere or fall over, she left him in the bathroom and waited outside. That didnât happen as often as the bar fights. As a matter of fact, this only happened four times in their entire time at university. And by all the annoyance that she had felt when she had interrupted him and Kenneth 45 minutes earlier, she now felt none of it anymore. Whether it was just the fact that he was her friend, or whether even at that time, she had felt more than that, she canât remember in hindsight. But she didnât leave in these nights, either.
âŚâŚâŚ
Y/N had eventually dosed off for a few hours. That was cut short eventually when Jack woke up and made his way to the bathroom. Given he was able to make it there himself, Y/N decided that her assistance was probably not needed for him ridding himself of some of the scotch. There was nothing she could do to avoid hearing him gag, but hell. She had seen and heard worse.
She checked her watch â shortly after 7. Theoretically, a good time for breakfast, though she wasnât sure if eating was such a good idea.
Unsurprisingly, Jack didnât look particularly fresh this morning. And perhaps a shade paler.
Normally, now would have been the time for Y/N to make some sarcastic remark, but she decided against it for many reasons. First, the situation really didnât merit sarcasm. After all, they still had no idea how Sousa was fairing, exactly. And also, she wasnât quite sure if heâd react well to sarcasm right now.
âHowâr you feeling?â, she simply asked, knowing at least part of the answer in advance.
âLike shit.â Well, at least he was honest.
He rubbed his temples, though that only offered temporary relief.
âRightâ, Y/N said, âYou take a shower and shave. Iâll grab us coffee.â
She didnât wait for a reply, after handing out the instructions, she simply marched out the room. She got coffee from the bar in the lobby, and with paying double, she even got them to agree that she could take it to the room. When she didnât hear any water from the shower upon return, she assumed that he was finished. Still, she knocked as a warning before entering again. He, indeed, had showered and had nearly finished shaving, too. She lifted up the coffee cups whilst walking past him as to signal that she had delivered on her promise.
âMilk, no sugar, just as always. Comes with perks, given that youâve made me brew your coffee for months.â There it was â just a little sprinkle of sarcasm.
A few moments later, he emerged from the bathroom and Y/N handed him his coffee.
âThank you, Y/N.â He sounded so earnest that Y/N was quite sure that he didnât just say thank you for the cup of coffee.
She gave him a smile: âAlways.â
For a while, they sat there and drank their coffee in silence, both of them lost in their own storm of thoughts.
âYou were right, by the wayâ, he then announced quietly without looking up from his cup, âHeâs HYDRA. That was the file I got out of the cupboard. The one that was booby-trapped. He had a file in there with all the details on the 107th. Personal background, family. Current presumed whereabouts.â He pressed his lips together: âI didnât look at it thoroughly yet, though.â
Y/N didnât really know how she felt about that development. Naturally, it was upsetting knowing that the group was still around â right under their noses. But they had defeated worse. They had won a war. They would win against this, too.
âWeâll track him down. Presumably, heâll try to evade the police, now that he knows weâre onto himâ, Y/N said silently, âI informed the SSR before coming here to mobilise all resources to find him. And that, we will. And we wonât put him in a cell. Weâll kill him. Thatâs the only way you can kill a hydra.â
Now, Jack looked up. âIâm sorry I couldnât do that for you.â
She raised her eyebrows: âWhat?â She almost laughed: âThis was supposed to be a surveillance operation, not an instant kill. We didnât even know what he was if it hadnât been for you and Sousa. Donât be silly. We donât kill before we know weâre dealing with a hostile person. Now we do, and now weâll find him, and then, weâll kill him. Donât worry about me. Whatever my role will be, Iâll be able to handle it.â
âI know.â
âSee?â, Y/N smiled, âThen you donât need to say youâre sorry. Iâve heard that way too much in the last 12 hours.â
She checked her watch again. Shortly before eight. âRightâ, she said, âIâll call the hospital. I suppose itâs better if they hear a fresh voice. And then, we make a trip downtown. And Iâm driving.â
âŚâŚâŚ.
Once Y/N had parked the car outside the hospital, she looked over to her companion. âYouâre ready?â
âCourse.â
When they entered the hospital, some guards directly swarmed them. âSir, I think we were clear-â
âI vouch for himâ, Y/N sighed, shoving them five dollars, âHe wonât lash out. Promise.â She wasnât sure if it was her good words, or her money that did it, but they eventually let them pass.
âI think Iâve bribed like a dozen people since getting to LaGuardiaâ, Y/N commented sarcastically, making her way to the desk further in the back. âWeâre here for Daniel Sousa. Was admitted yesterday. Weâre colleagues.â She searched for her batch: âSSR.â
The poor lady seemed a bit overwhelmed by two federal agents standing in front of her, so she hastily consulted her book.
âRoom 452, but someoneâs already there to see him!â
âYeah, thatâs his wifeâ, Y/N said, already walking past the lady, âand also our colleague.â
Finding room 452 took a few minutes given the sheer size of the hospital, but it wasnât difficult. The signing was quite decent.
âThere we areâ, Y/N pointed to the door with the correct number on it. Again, she looked at her companion. She didnât need to repeat her question, he only nodded. When they approached the door, they heard someone talking, but it was muffled enough for them to be unable to identify it. Y/N just hoped that it was two people. Actually, for the first time in a long time â probably since L.A. and the last shooting incidence â she understood the necessity of the Stossgebet. A term she had come across by some devout Germans in the heat of battle, when they sent a very specific, dedicated and urgent prayer.
But she didnât give herself the time to pray. She knocked. âItâs Y/N and Jack. Can we come in?â
The door was unlocked, so she opened it. The sense of dread that she felt when opening the door was washed away by a sense of utter and unparalleled relief when she was greeted by a conscious Sousa and a waving Peggy. They both looked battered â which was to be expected, but they were awake. He was alive.
âThank the Lord.â Y/N didn���t know what else to say â she was just happy that no funeral was on the cards.
The door behind them fell shut, and when Jack didnât say anything, Sousa was the one to crack a smile.
âIf it werenât for the tubes sticking out of my arms, Iâd say you look worse than me, Jack.â
âSousa, I donât think you understand how grateful I am to be insulted right now.â
Y/N motioned to Peggy to follow her outside and the brunette followed her without a strange look.
âHow is he?â, Y/N asked in the hallway.
âHe was incredibly lucky, no vital organs were severely hit. Iâm sure itâll hurt like hell, but heâll pull throughâ, she said, looking over her shoulder with a tired smile. âHowâs Jack?â
âHeâs⌠fineâ, Y/N said, stressing the âfineâ with dripping sarcasm, âprobably almost admitted himself to the hospital because of alcohol poisoning, but I fear the staff wouldnât have treated him after heâs kicked out for threatening a nurse.â
âAhâ, Peggy remarked dryly, âso heâs fine.â
âIt was a long night for all of usâ, Y/N replied flatly, âIâm just glad that weâll be able to laugh about it at some point.â
Peggy grabbed her shoulder, looking her directly into the eyes: âDo you know how many people died on my watch? My roommate, Krzeminski, Juniper, I almost got Ana and Dr. Wilkes killed, and I could expand this list indefinitely given all the innocent people that died because of Fennhoff. He shouldnât take it that personally.â
âThatâs rich of you to say, Pegâ, Y/N responded with a dry smile, âBecause last time I checked, you do the exact same thing. Granted, you donât drown yourself in it. At least not with alcohol.â
âDoesnât mean others should do it, too.â
Y/N shot her a look that said âare you freaking serious?â, which resulted in both of them laughing. They were tied together, both as colleagues who understood the dangers of their work, who knew that these risks were necessary and sometimes unavoidable, but also as wife and fiancĂŠe, who were connected to this on a level that went beyond work-friends. They understood each other better than perhaps anyone else ever could.
âWill he be alright?â
Y/N looked at her, rather perplexed by her question. âYeah. He came back from war and was alright. Different, but alright. Heâll be alright.â
âŚâŚâŚ
âYou took those bullets for me, Sousaâ, Jack said, pressing his lips into a fine line, when Peggy and Y/N had left the room.
âHey, you did say to cover you, in all fairnessâ, Sousa said jokingly. Jack shot him a glance.
âNext time, donât take me literally.â
âYeah?â, Daniel raised his eyebrows, âWhyâs that? I thought we were going in there as a team. And Iâm pretty sure thatâs how soldiers do it. They cover each other. With everything they have.â
He wasnât wrong. But that almost annoyed Jack more.
âYou knowâ, he said dryly, âthe bag I took with me here, well, that was the bag that I travelled back home with after I was discharged.â He reached into his jacketâs pocket and fished a little pouch out of there.
âI have no use for it, you knowâ, he said without explaining what it was, âYou took those bullets for me. I know soldiers donât usually get medals from the Naval Branch, but youâre still the better person to have it than me.â
He placed it on the bedside table. It was his Navy Cross â he hadnât even bothered to ever take it out of his bag. Thatâs why it had made its way from New York to Boston with him.
âAre you serious, Jack?â, Daniel asked in disbelief, âYou canât just give away your freaking medal-â
âLike hell I canâ, Jack huffed, âDid you ever see me wear that thing? Sousa, I did nothing that merits such a freaking medal. Nothing. And if youâd still be in active service and those guys had any sense, you wouldâve had your medal ages ago. You can also sell it if you want. Iâm not gonna miss it.â
Daniel, who still hadnât heard the truth about Tsuken Island, looked at the Navy Cross intently.
âWhyâd you even join the freaking Marines?â, he asked, inspecting it.
Jack couldnât help but laugh. âMaybe because I wanted to serve my country. Maybe because I wanted the bragging rights of not being just a measly soldier. Maybe to impress a girl.â
Daniel shot him a deadpan look: âYou didnât end up on Iwo Jima just to impress Y/N, did you?â
âI had no idea where our ship was headedâ, Jack shrugged, âand even if theyâd told me, I didnât know where Iwo Jima was until they told us to take it.â
The door opened again and Y/N and Peggy came back in.
Y/N directly noticed Daniel holding a medal.
âIs that your Navy Cross, Jack?â, Y/N asked confused.
âNo, itâs Danielâs Navy Crossâ, Jack replied, winking at the man attached to the tubes.
âI believe this is a terrible ideaâ, Daniel said, putting it back in the pouch, âYou got this for a reason, you know? They shipped you to Iwo Jima and Okinawa.â
âNo, they actually only shipped me to Iwo Jimaâ, Jack specified, âI volunteered for Okinawa.â
âWhy, for the bragging rights??â, Daniel asked, starting to doubt Jackâs judgement.
âNoâ, Jack grinned slightly, âBut they needed volunteers from the Marines. Figured I was already done for, so I might as well get into the fight one more time.â
âWhat the hellâ, Y/N exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air, âWhy does everyone inside these walls seem to have a freaking death wish?? Peggy, who fails to see that she saved about a million people more than she couldnât save! Daniel, who first almost gets sucked into the freaking vortex of Starkâs creation and now is a human bullet shield! And Jack freaking Thompson who volunteers for another amphibious assault because why not?? Am I the only one here whoâs a responsible adult who wants to preserve my life, along with everyone elseâs??â She huffed: âYou are all unbelievable. Either unbelievably brave or unbelievably stupid, and quite possibly, both at the same time!â
Her rant had caused everyone to laugh, so after her initial anger and frustration subsided, she couldnât help but to laugh, too. Especially because she knew, in her heart â she wasnât that different.
âYes, because attacking Dottie Underwood with a butter knife is so life-preservingâ, Jack reminded her with a tired grin.
âIf it had been a butter knife, yes, that wouldâve been stupid. But it was a knife-knifeâ, she shot back, knowing that this didnât make it that much less suicidal.
Apparently, they were all scarred enough by loss to repeatedly put their life on the line, causing more hurt to those around them than they probably could have anticipated.
But that was what dedication looked like. That was what love looked like.
A/N: Sorry for the two week unannounced hiatus, I went on vacation back home! Which meant I fled Londonâs 40 degree celsius hell, exchanging it for the beautiful Alps. But, as reparation, itâs a pretty long chapter. And, I found it when writing, a heart-wrenching one at that. Very little action per se, but a lot of feelings, which is always nice (I hope!!). Feedback, comments, reblogs and likes are all INCREDIBLY appreciated!Â
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Jack Thompson X Reader
What Lies Before Us
Masterlist (book 1 and previous chapters)
Chapter 11
âThompson, how can I help?â
âMa?â
âJack?â, he could practically see the surprise in her face, âWhy are you calling me with an English number? Is everything alright?â
âYeah, all goodâ, he said quickly to make her stop worrying, âWe, uh, we had a friendâs wedding here.â
âWe?â
âThey were work-friendsâ, he specified, âY/Nâs here, too.â
âAlright?â, despite being half-way across the globe, Jack could see his motherâs inquisitive gaze upon him, âIs this about what I had asked your father to give to you?â
âShe-â
âJack?â, his mother inquired, âDonât you lie to me, you know I canât stand that! Sheâs more than a work-friend, isnât she?â
âIf you let me talk, Ma, youâll nothing but the truthâ, he said with a grin given his motherâs impatience.
âGo on, then.â
âI never said that she was just a work-friend. I said that she was my co-worker, and thatâs actually factualâ, he put forward, just to get the record straight and to tell his mother that, in fact, he didnât lie to her, âand, well, your ring now has a new owner.â
âJack, son!â, she exclaimed, âCongratulations!â
Shifting on the spot, still not sure how to respond to these kinds of things, he just replied with: âThanks, ma.â
âYouâll have to tell me all about it, I better hope you did it properly!â
âYou can ask her if she found it appropriateâ, he replied with a smile.
He heard his mother laugh: âYou bet I will! Oh, dear, I will have to call your father right away. And Gam-Gam. Sheâll be over the moon! Though it is unfortunate that your godfather canât bear witness to this.â
The mention of Vernon almost made him choke. Even the thought of him being at their wedding â he was quite certain that Y/N wouldâve left him standing alone by the altar to not spend time in the same building as that man.
âYes, it isâ, he replied hollowly, âSorry, ma, I gotta go now. Duty calls. Iâll call when weâre in New York, alright?â
âCall?â, she asked, âYou better come visit!â After ending the call, Jack couldnât help but grin at the situation he found himself in. For once, it felt like it all fell together. Like things were finally taking a turn for the better. Like he had finally found the light at the end of the tunnel.
âŚâŚ.
Their return to New York was fairly unspectacular, which both of them were more than grateful for.
âThank God I didnât tell ma when our plane landedâ, Jack said whilst retrieving their bags, âshe probably wouldâve ambushed right here and now to ask you if I proposed properly enough.â
âHow does one propose properly?â, Y/N asked, eyebrows raised.
He only shrugged: âI dunno. Shouldâve asked Sousa, Iâm sure he did it with much more falderal than me.â
âTo be fair, you did choose the busiest park of the entire country to do itâ, Y/N retorted, âthat I would classify as quite the fuss.â
âOur lives donât really give me that many opportunities, donât they? Wouldnât have been exactly fitting after DC, either, right? âHey, weâve just killed a bunch of people together, you want to marry me?â didnât seem like a classy option.â
Y/N snorted at the idea. âYeah, well. I guess youâre right.â She smiled: âNo, really. Donât know what your mother wouldâve wanted, but it was perfect. I havenât really imagined how it could be, but I couldnât have come up with anything better.â
They stopped over at Y/Nâs apartment to drop their bags before heading to the SSR to relieve McKinley. Whilst Y/N went to the post box to which Lorenzo couldâve posted something during her absence.
âChiefâ, his deputy exclaimed when he saw Thompson, âweâve got some news on the Arena Club. Weâve tracked down their donations â unlike other millionaires, they seem to only pick one candidate to support. Weâve collected the names of those that have received substantial funds.â He handed him the file.
âThanks, McKinleyâ, Thompson began to flip through the pages, recognising some, but not all of the names listed, which was to be expected. Some were established politicians, others complete newcomers.
Whilst he was going through the files, the office door opened again and Y/N entered. Though he only looked briefly, he could tell that she had found something.
Y/N had indeed found something â but she wasnât really sure what to make of it. A picture of a group of men, most of which she could identify as members of the Arena Club, though some were faces she hadnât seen before as having been members.
She looked at each and everyone of the men on the picture. But nothing appeared to be an obvious red flag.
She brought the picture to Thompsonâs desk: âDo you know anyone on there that should ring a bell?â
He looked over the picture: âArena Club, thatâs for sure.â
âThatâs as far as I gotâ, she sighed, picking the photograph up, accidentally flipping it in the process. On the back, a faint number was written, in the right-hand corner, rather inconspicuously looking.
But when she read the number, her heart sank. She recognised it to be Lorenzoâs handwriting. It was a hint.
â88â, she said quietly, looking up at Thompson. Her eyes were darkened, cold, even.
â88?â, he asked, âSerial number, maybe?â
âNo, itâs, well, itâs a shorthand.â She pressed her lips together: âRefers to the 8th letter in the alphabet. H-H, or the initials of the Nazi salute. Or HYDRAâs.â Despite having had to say the salute herself many times, she couldnât bring herself to say it out loud now, on American soil.
âYou think weâre dealing with a sleeper Nazi in the Arena Club?â, Jack asked, taking another look at the picture.
Y/N shrugged: âMany industrialists came over after the war. Theoretically, ideal Arena Club material. Rich, white, arrogant, and ruthless.â
âBut HYDRA was destroyed by the SSRâ, Jack frowned, âAnd the Howling Commandos.â
Y/N paced around in the room: âDo you really believe that? That they got every last one of them, I mean. Call me crazy, but I donât. Hell, we didnât even succeed in securing high-profile Nazis such as Mengele. Why would we have done such a more thorough job with HYDRA?â
She pondered about what this would entail. And why in Godâs name the Arena Club would team up with a Nazi. But then, she remembered something. If there is one thing Nazis and Westerners could agree on, it was their hate for Communism. Maybe thatâs what brought them together â a common enemy. Maybe, HYDRA had something the Arena Club wanted for their plans within America.
âIâll contact the Office of Immigrationâ, Jack interrupted her thoughts, âIf a German immigrant made it into the Arena Club, he must be loaded. Must cut down the possible candidates.â
âIâll call L.A.â, Y/N sighed, âPeggy would kill us if she knew we didnât inform her about a possible HYDRA re-emergence.â
âŚâŚ..
Y/N had seen Peggy distraught in the past, but she hadnât heard her like this â granted, she was rather personally involved with the entire taking-down-HYDRA-operation. The thought of the parasite still festering must have stung. Y/N didnât fault her for reacting rather explosively. But Peggy wasnât alone in her hurt â though Y/N hadnât been tasked with going after HYDRA, she was ordered to take down military targets mostly, the thought of there still being a threat in the form of Nazis was a blow to her morale, too. She had spent years of her life fighting them, and now, multiple years after VE-day, it should still continue?
She felt that it was more likely that the man in question was affiliated with HYDRA than the regular party for a multitude of reasons â first, there was the matter of obscurity around that organisation that made it more likely for someone to slip through the system of the Americans. Second, it would fit the profile of the members of the Arena Club just about right â after all, their interest in new types of weaponry wasnât that far off Jonesâs interest, as well as Frostâs. But most importantly, there was that blueprint that they had stored away in DC â the one that the communists wanted to steal. Jack and Y/N had wondered what they wanted with it â because, even if they wanted to assassinate someone, no one needs such an intricate bomb for that. However, if they were working with â or even worse, for â HYDRA, obviously these weapons became more significant.
It took Jack way too long for his own taste to get a hold of someone in the Office of Immigration to get a lead regarding their mystery man. It seemed like, with all the chaos in the SSR filing system, they were still ahead of most other government facilities. That fact made him more concerned than proud, though, as he knew their filing was still a mess.
However, eventually he got a name. Richard Keller, who was the head of a mining company in Austria.
There wasnât much on him in the records they had, his job and approximate wealth aside. And, naturally, that he was once affiliated with the Nazi Party â then again, what industrialist during the 1940s wasnât?
All in all, it meant they had nothing but a name.
He knew he should inform both Peggy and Y/N, but given that Y/N didnât recognise the man on the picture of the Arena Club members â where, as he now figured out, he was actually visible â he took it that she hadnât known of him. And from what Y/N had told him, Peggyâs reaction on the phone didnât speak to the effect of her knowing many wealthy German â or Austrian â business men, either. So why didnât he? Possibly because he knew that the next course of action was to send someone to get intel on the guy. And both of them wouldâve volunteered. He was aware of their records, of their strengths. But he had worked with Carter enough to know that as brilliant as she was, often, things went sideways, still. Roxxon Refinery blew up. The truck with the explosives she hijacked blew up. The Zero Matter blew up. Underwood escaped. Ana Jarvis was shot. None of these were directly her mistakes, but it was, in a sense, her actions that enabled the chain to unfurl. And in this case, where the stakes were so high, the mafia, the high-society of politics and quite possibly some remnant of HYDRA were involved, he really didnât want to know what âsidewaysâ looked like.
And Y/N?
Well. He had seen her face when she realised what the number on the photo meant. He really didnât want her to do it.
âSousa.â
âYou have a habit to call at the least convenient times, Thompson.â
âWhy, I try not to hit your private hours where you could be doing God-knows-what with Carterâ, Jack shot back sarcastically.
âYou seem to be in a terrific mood. Whatâs up?â, Daniel asked, noticing the rather tense tone from his NYC counterpart.
âThat German guy, in the Arena Club. Peggy tell you about that?â
âYeah, HYDRA, possibly, correct?â
âYeahâ, Thompson rubbed his chin, âthatâs what weâre still to figure out. Came here in 46. Got his file pulled from the Office of Immigration, but not much in it. Except that heâs the head of some mining company. And apparently, heâs Austrian, not German. Seems to be the trade mark of top Nazis.â
âDo we know where he lives now? Then we could send a team to shadow him.â
âThatâs what Iâm calling forâ, Thompson pressed his lips together before continuing, âI do have an address. Lives in Boston.â
For a while, Daniel didnât say anything. âAnd why are you calling me, exactly?â
âBecauseâ, Jack flicked his hand in annoyance â annoyance that apparently Daniel couldnât read his thoughts through the phone line, âyou tell me. Should I send Peggy to do it? Or Y/N? On paper, they might be the most qualified, but theyâre also both incredibly personally attached to this.â
âYou feel like theyâre not going to be objective?â, Daniel asked, rather surprised.
âNo, thatâs not it.â Jack sighed: âI just think that if they figure it is HYDRA, they wouldnât care to call for backup, or wait for someone else to lend them a hand, no, theyâd just kick down the door to take that shot. Even if thereâs a live grenade behind that door.â
Daniel huffed silently: âWhyâd you think that?â
âIâve seen them both in action, Sousa. Hell, Y/N charged Underwood with a freaking knife. Wouldnât really want her doing that with some guy we hardly have a read on!â, Jack replied curtly, âand I know how Iâd react if it werenât Nazis, but some Japs. Iâm like the only one in this office whoâs got no past experience with them, so Iâm planning on doing it myself.â
âYouâre an idiot, Thompson, you donât even speak or read the language.â
âGoldberg speaks German, guess Iâll bring him along.â
âHeâs been in the field how many times?â, Daniel asked rhetorically, knowing the answer was about zero, given he was their best analyst.
âDo you want Carter to take the mission?â, Jack asked back harshly, tapping his fingers as he waited for a response. âSousa?â
âNo, theoretically not.â
âAnd practically??â
âPracticallyâ, Sousa himself was now audibly becoming frustrated, âItâs dumb for you to go in there with some rookie. I speak the language, I come with you.â
âSousa, we canât put two SSR Chiefs on a mission! What if we die?â
âWe just wonât dieâ, Sousa replied with a huff, âAs simple as that.â
âBrilliant plan. Why didnât MacArthur think of that in 1945?â
âYou got a better one?â
Thompson didnât say anything. He didnât, but he also didnât like the idea of going in there with Sousa. Though he knew that the L.A. Chief was more than capable â he had seen that first-hand when they took down Johann Fennhoff. Or, well, Sousa did. As he was taken down by the man, himself.
âNo. Unfortunately, not.â
âWe will have to tell them, though. Iâm not gonna lie to my wife.â
His initial reaction was to vehemently object â like hell Carter would let them do this if she knew what they were up to! But the thought of lying to Y/N didnât really sit well with him, either.
âDo you think theyâll just stay behind brewing coffee?â, Thompson asked sarcastically.
âI dunno. Guess I see it as a two-way street â Iâd trust her to do a mission herself, too. Itâs only fair she trusts me, too.â
Thompson pressed his lips together, rubbing the bridge of his nose. That will be a talk he was not looking forward to. âAlright, Sousa. Weâll meet in Boston.â
âŚ..
Y/N stood across from Jack in his living room, arms crossed.
âSay somethingâ, he said when her only response to his plan was silence, a stern look, and crossing her arms. âAnything. Yell, if you want to.â
âI donât want to yell at you, Jackâ, she eventually said, sitting down on the sofa, staring at the floor in front of her. âI just donât want you to go there with Sousa. You know I could be of use.â
âYeah, you could probably do the entire surveillance yourselfâ, he agreed quietly, awkwardly still standing in front of her, âbut I donât want you⌠I donât want you to go through this again.â
She clenched her jaw. She knew it was already massive progress that he didnât just take off, did it without saying something before â like he had done with Masters â or lying to her. Though that didnât make her happier with his decision. Even if it was made out of love.
âIf it were you⌠if it were the Japaneseâ, she said quietly, âthen I would want to do the same. You do well to remember that if it ever comes to it, Jack Thompson.â She stood up, standing right in front of him.
âYes, maâam.â He was dead-serious.
âWell thenâ, Y/N gave him a quick peck on the lips, âYou better be careful, Jack. I donât want to become a widow before getting married.â
âŚâŚâŚâŚ.
Thompson sat behind the steering wheel, parked on the side of a sideroad, whilst Sousa tried to get a clearer picture of the huge building that they identified to be Kellerâs. They had observed the building for multiple days in a row now, getting a clearer picture of who lived in it. Keller aside, it was just a housemaid that would show up occasionally, Monday and Friday. They had followed her car to call her agency to confirm that, under the cover of being police chiefs tracking down a speeding offense. Keller didnât spend much time in his gigantic house during the week, mostly leaving before nine, and returning after six. Heâd drive downtown to an office building that was rented under the name of Mortimer Hayes, though it had belonged to Hugh Jones until just some weeks ago. In the public records, it didnât say much about the purpose of the building, and by seeing through the windows, they didnât figure out much. Only that even during the night, once Keller had left, there were people roaming about. Mostly, in some sort of overcoats, similar to lab coats.
âHeâs leaving nowâ, Sousa commented, âif we want to have a look inside, we should get moving.â
âLetâs hope he doesnât have Starkâs surveillance outfitâ, Jack remarked whilst turning on the engine and reviving the coupler, âotherwise we either get a bullet in the brain or a flamingo after our asses.â
Sousa huffed: âNeither particularly inviting.â
They abandoned the car behind some bushes just up the road from the house. The rest of the way, they walked. They approached the house from the side, starting by looking through the windows. They could see the different rooms on the ground floor â a kitchen that looked like it had never been used, a living room that didnât look particularly lived in, all in all, a rather over-neatly kept house.
âDoesnât scream high-profile Naziâ, Sousa muttered, but Thompson was already fiddling with one of the doors to get inside.
âI doubt heâd have it on a poster, Sousaâ, he remarked whilst working on the lock, âStep back. In case thereâs some booby-trap.â
The lock sprung open â he cautiously opened the door, waiting for an alarm, fire â something. But they were greeted with nothing but silence. He looked over his shoulder, at Sousa. The two nodded. Guns drawn, they slowly entered the building.
Thompson was the first to head upstairs. Bedroom and bathroom to the left, office to the right. So he turned right. The office was, arguably, the only room that looked actually used. There was a large desk at the roomâs centre, two large bookshelves at the walls, and some sort of cupboard next to one of the shelves. It had a lock.
He first skimmed some of the documents that were stored in the bookshelves.
âHot damnâ, he whispered, seeing its contents. He was no scientists, and as a matter of fact, had found chemistry one of the tougher subjects to get a hold on, so the equations on the papers meant rather little to him. The insignia on them was what caught his eye. An eagle, and not just an eagle. The eagle of the Third Reich. Which couldâve just been the documents produced during the war, which possibly were still of use given their scientific contents, but the dates didnât match. Some of them were dated for September 1945. Months after the war had ended â months after the eagle was no longer in use.
He turned to the locked closet.
âImma open itâ, he whispered to Sousa, âyou cover me.â He fiddled with the lock, and it took a good minute until the mechanism gave in. Inside, there was a single folder. He had hoped that possibly, it just said HYDRA on it and theyâd know for certain what they were dealing with, but it was an unnamed file.
He took it out, flicking it open â and couldnât believe his eyes. âWhat the h-â
âGet down!â
âŚâŚ..
Those words â they had haunted him since 1945. âGet downâ is what his buddies had yelled every time there was a machine gun attack commencing, or mortar fire incoming, or grenades flying in their direction. âGet downâ is a shorthand for âpray youâll still breathe in five secondsâ timeâ. âGet downâ mostly meant that for some substantial part of your group, it would be the last moment they were alive.
But they also triggered that deep instinct that was instilled into everyone who fought beside him during the two operations he was an active part of. You didnât ask back. You didnât look around. You didnât second guess it. You drop. You drop immediately.
He heard the shots ring out. They were incredibly close. Point blank. But he didnât feel anything. He hadnât been hit, that much was for sure.
âSousa?â
There was nothing. No more fire. No more shots. But there was also no response.
Jack didnât ask a second time. He knew that now, he had to run. For a fraction of a second, he thought about Y/N, and her telling him to be careful. He didnât get to be careful right now. He didnât have the luxury of time to make sure that the perimeter was secure. He jumped up, seeing no one, no attacker. He saw an automatised firing contraption dangling from the ceiling, probably triggered by him breaking the lock of the cabin. But now, it had fallen silent.
Then he saw Sousa, unconscious. He just told himself that he was, he didnât even entertain the thought that he could be dead. He was hit in the side, twice. He was bleeding heavily. First course of action, you contain the blood loss. He did that with Sousaâs shirt, which now functioned as a bandage. He knew that theoretically, the bullets would have to be removed, but neither did he have the tools to do that right now, nor was it absolutely fundamental to happen right now. Stopping the bleeding and getting to a hospital were more important. So he picked the brunet up, running towards their car. It was a move he had practised for hours back in basic, and a move he had done too many times in the field. He didnât even notice the weight of the other man, he didnât have the time to notice. Before he knew it, Jack was speeding down the highway, praying that he didnât just make someone a widow. He had told Sousa to cover him. And that, he did. That bullet hadnât meant to hit Daniel â the contraption was set out to hit whoever opened the cupboard. Daniel took it voluntarily.
A/N: And it started out sooooo promising!! Iâm not sure how well-known the symbolism of 88 is, but it is still in use in some circles today as a âhiddenâ extremist symbol. Though, in my opinion, itâs so obvious that you might as well spell it out. For me, I always found it rather naĂŻve that anyone from the MCU truly believed that HYDRA had been defeated in the war, and were stunned when they reappeared - because, like mentioned in the story - not even the actual Nazis were all gone after the war. Hope you enjoyed this up-and-down chapter, and I promise, the next one is a good one. Or a terrible one. Depends on your point of view! Any feedback is appreciated, and thanks so much for reading!
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Congratulations, my dear!!! Itâs crazy, 5 years!! Seems like it was yesterday, and on the other hand, it feels like an eternity ago!! Thank YOU so much for being here, honestly, I doubt my blog would still be around if it werenât for you, your support has really meant a lot!! To another five yearsđĽ
I started this blog on 4th July 2017 and I can't believe I've been sharing more stories for five years. The world has changed so much, I've changed and so has my writing and the communities I've been part of.
I pondered hosting some kind of event to celebrate but instead I want to take the time to thank the people who have supported me along the way.
@dontshootmespence and @stunudo both inspired me to sharing my work and are brilliant, wonderful people. @rt8815 @brywrites @louiseeleanorbee and @ilikepipecleanerswitheyes @reiding-and-writing were also part of the CM community when I started writing and made it a really wonderful place to be. I am so happy you guys are still around.
Over the years I've been lucky enough to meet more fantastic people from that fandom such as @thorne93 @dreatine and @heycasbutt who bring so much joy. I don't write much for CM anymore and got to meet even more wonderful people when I started writing for the MCU. A huge thank you to @latent-thoughts @wickednerdery @nildesperanddum @xxruinaxxmcu @twentysomethingloser92 @spacetalbot @simuran @nbraraeaves and others.
Also finally a huge thanks to all the new OC creators I have met recently @morvantmortuary @karimac @smurphysee @starsandstormyseas @arrthurpendragon I feel so inspired right now thanks to you all and the wonderful OC Creator Bingo earlier this year.
And finally thank you to everyone who has ever read my stuff. I appreciate you all â¤ď¸
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Thank you so much ����đ glad you enjoyed it!! It was so fun to write, esp. to bring in my current home city!!
Jack Thompson x Reader
What Lies Before UsÂ
Masterlist (Book 1 and previous chapters)Â
Chapter 10
âYou donât really think they want to pull a Lincoln on Truman?â, Jack asked, visibly irritated after hearing Y/Nâs explanation about the meaning of the 5th of November.
âI have no idea what it means, if itâs literally or figurativelyâ, she shrugged, âBut it means meddling with politics, thatâs for sure. And if Peggyâs intel is right, they already killed a president once in 1901.â
âAnd you think they work with the mob for that?â, he questioned sceptically. Again, Y/N wasnât sure about it â after all, all she had to go on was a piece of paper.
âI donât knowâ, she replied, âbut if you would want to kill someone, having the Mafia do it is arguably the best way to do it. The public can easily be fed an alternative explanation as to why they targeted the person in question, whether that is Truman himself or some other guy in a suit.â
Though they had very little to go on, Thompson decided to inform the Secret Service about it, in order for them to make sure that they did thorough background checks on their members, and to make sure no actual assassination plot would be successful. They needed more time to figure out what the actual plan was, and he really didnât want it to end with the Commander and Chief being killed.
Y/N attempted to make contact with Lorenzo, but she had to make sure that it would not be seen as a meeting with federal agents, and she didnât exactly have his phone number. She did remember a restaurant he often frequented when she initially met him, so she hoped his taste hadnât changed. She pretended that she had found his wallet in the establishment, asking for an address or a number so that she could return it to him. She was lucky â they did have an address left behind, so she went to check it out, making sure she wasnât being followed or observed by anyone, to verify that it was actually his address. Rather than waiting for him there, which she found too risky in case he came home with another mobster, she decided to disguise her note in a letter that looked like an electricity bill. Which was technically forgery, but whoâd check that?
She left behind a post box address to which he could post a letter to, which, again, she found safer than meeting him in person. It would take considerably longer, but then again, it was for his own safety, too.
Jack was still figuring out how he was supposed to have a life next to his job â during the war, combat was all that really mattered. Sure, he had his friends to worry about, to have fun with when they werenât in action, but essentially, there was no past, there was no future. Everyone knew that they could be dead the next day if they were in the field. But that also meant that whenever he took up his weapon, that was all that mattered â getting that next mile of territory, securing the next position. He thought a lot about home, never getting to see his family until the war ended. Or Y/N. In the first months at the SSR, actually, until he was shot, thatâs how he continued. It was always about work, about closing the next case, and it felt like he couldnât stop for one minute because the world hung in the balance.
Unfortunately, he realised, the world would almost always hang in the balance. If he waited for âthings to passâ to have a life, heâd be dead before heâd know it.
âSousa, SSR.â
âCouldnât make it any shorter, Danny-boy?â, Jack asked with a grin, placing his feet on his desk.
âJack. Anything on the Arena Club? Peggy mentioned something about â5th of Novemberâ.â
âYeah, apparently itâs some English poem about a guy who wanted to kill the king, but failedâ, Jack explained, âit could be what theyâve got in mind. Just that weâre not a monarchy.â
âTheyâre after Truman?â
âThatâs what weâre trying to figure out, genius.â
âRightâ, Daniel exhaled audibly, âIf we find anything on our end, Iâll let you know.â
âYou nervous?â
âWhat?â, Daniel asked, obviously confused, âWhy should I be? Itâs politicians and mobsters, Jack, by now, thatâs our most common gig.â
âI didnât mean the caseâ, Jack specified, âI mean your future.â
âThe wedding?â, Sousa asked to confirm, âUhm, no, I mean, itâs just a change of formalities, essentially. Whyâd you ask? Terrified of asking yourself?â
Jack grit his teeth. It wasnât that he was afraid Y/N wouldnât say yes, he was just⌠unsure about the circumstances. âDonât you wish for your life to be, ya know, less dangerous before tying the knot?â
âThen I shouldâve set out to marry someone very different to Peggy, Jackâ, Daniel stated amusedly, âa boring life and her donât really go together.â
Rubbing his chin, Jack nodded, remembering after a second that Sousa had no way to tell that he was, so he added: âYeah.â
âLook, we might never get a month off, but youâll be able to find one day to get married. It doesnât take much. If youâre lucky, your girl wonât drag you half-way across the world to do it, too.â
âHa, I bet youâre ecstatic to meet Family Carterâ, Jack grinned.
âYou kidding?â, Sousa shot back, âI couldnât imagine something more terrifying than that!â
âYouâve probably never been disliked by anyone in your entire life, Danny-boy, so I donât think youâve got reason to worry.â
âThere was a time I was pretty sure you hated me.â
âYes, Sousa, I think there was a time where apparently everyone thought I hated themâ, Jack retorted, both sarcastic, as well as intently self-aware.
Sousa seemed to think for a second what to say, and eventually he replied: âIâm sure Y/N never hated you.â
Jack scoffed: âYouâd be surprised. Iâm quite sure the one time I almost knocked a guyâs tooth out because heâd groped her back in high school, she did kinda hate me.â
âYouâve always had a charming temperament, thenâ, Sousa said and Jack could picture his grin by the sound of his voice.
âMy most winning attribute, Iâm sure. Had to practice throwing a punch somewhere, I guess.â
âThompson, you better get your act together after basically arranging my ceremonyâ, Sousa urged, âAnd donât you say âwhen itâs quietâ, because thatâll never happen, clear?â
âCristal.â
âSo youâll do it?â
âEventually, sureâ, Jack evaded, now very eager to end the call. âWell, Danny-boy, Iâve got to come up with a speech for your day. And call me if you find anything on our case.â
âIâll beat your ass with my crutch if you donât get your act together by my first wedding anniversary, I swear to God, Thompson!â
Jack grinned before ending the call. That gave him at least more than a year to play with. Though he doubted that his nerves would dramatically improve over time.
âŚâŚ.
With their plane currently somewhere over the Atlantic, Y/N eyed the water intently. It felt strange heading back to Europe after a few months away, it felt like returning to something one wanted to leave behind for good, but which was a different place already since her last stay.
âYouâre fidgeting.â
She looked at Jack, who apparently had woken up to provide her with an analysis of her gestures.
âDidnât think Iâd be back so soon, if Iâm being honestâ, she remarked, though she was grateful that theyâd be headed to London, rather than Paris or Berlin.
Jack tilted his head back, closing his eyes. âTell me about it.â
âAbout what?â
âAbout London. What did you do there? Iâve been there once, for virtually a day, to get Peggyâs â or not Peggyâs â file. Whatâs it like?â
Y/N didnât really know how to answer that, it was hard to describe a city.
âItâs⌠old. I mean, for us, from America, itâs just an old city. Theyâve got castles from the Middle Ages everywhereâ, she began, and trying to recount the city made her feel less on edge, âtheyâve got these very typical townhouses, most, I think, from the Victorian period. Theyâre drafty as hell, though.â She laughed at the memory of the tiny corridors of the houses, where, for some reason, it always felt like an air current was present. âThe river Thames is pretty muddy, I have to say. But they have beautiful bridges everywhere, London Bridge most famously. It has a lot of parks, but be careful. The squirrels inside are so used to humans, they practically want to sit on your shoulder. Otherwise⌠a lot of the city has to be rebuilt. The Blitz definitely scarred it.â
âHow long were you there?â, he inquired, noticing how talking about it took her stress away.
âSeveral months, for training purposes. It was rather odd, though, considering we were training for something without having expertise to go on. There were no veterans for us to ask about techniqueâ, she shrugged, âWe had to make it up on the fly.â She paused: âAnd then, at the end of the war before being discharged. Was strange to go back there, seems like so much had changed in relatively short time.â
Opening his eyes to take a look at her, Jack continued his questionnaire: âWhatâs your favourite spot in the city?â
âNot really original, but Hyde Park. I loved spending time at the pond that they built thereâ, she said with a smile, âIt reminded me of Central Park.â
âI bet you sat there readingâ, he guessed â and her laugh told him that he had guessed correctly.
âIn all fairness, I had to become perfectly fluent in a language. I had to read Goethe somewhere. Da stehâ ich nun, ich armer Tor und bin so klug als wie zuvor, and all that.â
He huffed amusedly. He half-remembered that line coming from one professor way back when, and he was fairly certain that it was in Faust. A book he never bothered to read, even with an English translation available.
âRight, your turnâ, she said, âTell me about your time outside of combat.â
He pulled a face: âA lot less scenic, Iâm afraid. In early 1944, we were brought to Camp Pendleton. It was hot and humid, like California is. Were damn glad when we could leave that place, or at least I was. But I guess it helped me in the long run, the weather in the pacific was also hot and humid.â
âJust what you loveâ, Y/N commented with a grin.
âYes, so next time Sousa and Carter ask us to fly to L.A., we meet them halfway in â whatever â Kansas.â
âNothingâs in Kansas.â
âIâm sure weâd find some case thereâ, he remarked with a shrug.
âYou think the Mafia has a new offshore company in Wichita?â, she asked amusedly.
Again, Jack only shrugged: âMaybe theyâre interested in planes, too.â
After all the talk of humid and hot weather, London posed the exact opposite. It was mid-November (and yes, the 5th of November came and went without an assassination, confirming Y/Nâs suspicion that the riddle was more a hint than a plan), and the weather in Englandâs capital was windy and chilly â so not that different from New York, to be fair.
And, of course, for good measure, it was raining.
âMerry old Englandâ, Y/N announced when stepping off the plane and pointing to Jackâs hat, âHope that sits tight, âcause otherwise itâll end up in the Thames, for sure.â
The actual ceremony would be near Green Park, at St. James Church, which was a small, but picturesque church in the city centre. They had flown in with only a night to spare, the next day, they would have to be ready â well, especially Jack had to be ready with his silly (or so he thought) speech that Sousa had asked him to deliver. Why, he still wasnât quite sure. There had to be a thousand more qualified men in Sousaâs life for such a role, whether from his time at school, or even from his time in the army. Did he really think his best choice was him? Jack Thompson, who called him âour biggest yo-yoâ after Krzeminskiâs death?
If so, Thompson felt a bit sorry for the guy. But, he was a responsible man, nonetheless, so naturally, he tried to muster up a speech that would at least be considered okay-ish.
âCan I see it?â, Y/N asked once they were in the hotel room as she watched him go over his lines again.
âNoâ, he replied with a small smile, âI think these types of things are supposed to be surprises to everyone, no?â
âTo the groom and the bride, maybe, but not to me!â, Y/N protested, but for once, she was unsuccessful at getting him to falter. Instead, she faltered to his invitation for a kiss.
âWhy me?â
âWhy he asked you to give that speech?â, Y/N asked back, guessing what he meant, âI suppose youâve worked together on saving the world, thatâs something.â
âNo, I meant youâ, he sat down on the bed behind him, his gaze interrogating her, âwhyâd you stick with me?â
âWhat?â Y/N wasnât sure if she heard correctly â sure, Jack Thompson was often harsh, and pushed people away, and rude, and conceded, but he was also â well, he was Jack. Why wouldnât she have stuck with him, when she knew what he could be? âWhy are you asking me this?â
He shrugged, as if the question wasnât weird at all: âJust tryinâ to understand your rationale.â
âI donât really think about itâ, she confessed with a scoff, âI mean, when you do something particularly reckless, like getting shot, then I might think to myself â why did I fall in love with a madman? But on normal days?â She shrugged: âI guess I donât. I didnât have a particularly cordial relationship to my parents since adolescence, and being a spy makes any real relationships impossible. I guess youâve been the closest to a constant Iâve had, and yeah, we argue, but we both love to argue.â
She expected a sarcastic remark back, but was greeted with nothing but a nod. A bit irritated, she sat down next to him and took his hand with a dry smile: âAnd if it means anything, as much as I stuck with you, you stuck with me for some reason, too. I try not to think about your reasoning, either, otherwise, Iâd just terrify myself.â
Now, that was something Jack could really not understand. Because Y/N was Y/N â not only was she quite possibly the most beautiful woman heâs ever seen, though his metrics might have been off, given that ever since high school, he had believed no woman could compare with that. But it wasnât just her beauty, she was brilliant, which was both impressive and frightening, brave, which was definitely terrifying, strong, arguably even more stubborn than he was, and despite everything sheâd seen, been through and even done, she was still kind.
And there he was, the bogus Navy Cross winner with the nightmares he couldnât shake, with the inability to let people close, the medallist who was rewarded for his cowardice, and the idiot who repetitively trusted the wrong men, getting Dooley killed, getting Krzeminski killed, and nearly causing the Second Coming by siding with Vernon. This really was no competition, and he had no idea why he was still in the game.
âŚâŚ
The two of them left Piccadilly Circus station, and unfortunately, Jack was not yet used to the traffic being on the wrong side of the road, so when checking for traffic, he looked in the wrong direction and was greeted by a very annoyed Brit honking at him and Y/N.
âWhy the hell did they think it was smart to drive on that side of the road?â, he complained annoyed.
âFirst of all â I think they were first, and I doubt your rant will make them switchâ, she replied with a grin, âso you might be better off just looking in both directions next time. But donât worry. Happened to Churchill too, when he visited America.â
The church was already decently filled, most people, neither Jack nor Y/N knew â Angie aside, together with the Howling Commandos, who Jack vividly remembered. Some others, given their accent, Y/N guessed were friends of Sousaâs, possibly from his time in the army. And somewhere in the mix were the parents of the soon-to-be-weds, too.
The two of them were ushered into the front part, as Jack would have to make his way on stage for his speech at some point.
The proceedings began with the onset of music, which muted the talking of all the attendees. Jack, to be completely honest, paid very little attention to the pastor leading the service â in hindsight, he realised that his mother would have been appalled. But he was too busy staring at his notes, eventually earning an elbow to the side by Y/N.
âYouâve done it for Stark with like five minutesâ notice, youâll be perfectâ, she whispered barely audibly.
He only clenched his jaw â these two things could hardly compare. Besides, the speech he had given for stark might just have been the Oxford Dictionary definition for awkward.
What brought him back to reality was seeing Sousa standing in front, obviously nervous, too. So, to be a good friend, Jack tried his best to appear calm.
Peggy looked beautiful. Her dressâ skirt was loose, the top had a beautifully embroidered neckline and bust, and the sleeves were cut just below the elbow. She looked fantastic. Jack knew when the vows were exchanged, though he paid so much attention. And for a moment, it wasnât that he was thinking about his stupid speech, no, he was thinking about Y/N. Would she be willing to do the same? Did she want it?
He glanced to the side, meeting her eyes and she gave him a bright smile. Did that mean yes? Did she read his thoughts yet again? Or was she just happy for Sousa and Carter?
Then, he had to go. Luckily for him, it was a bit like turning a switch. He might be nervous before, but once he knew he had to run, heâd run. No point in being nervous anymore.
Standing in front of the gathered, in front of the newly-weds, and in front of Y/N, he cleared his throat.
âWhen I was asked to deliver this speech by Daniel, I have to say, I pitied the guyâ, he began with a sarcastic remark, which Y/N could only scoff at, âAs our work together doesnât really leave much time for cordial exchange. But possibly, itâs exactly these moments that test a personâs true character. Repetitively, Daniel has proven to be the man you want on your team when catastrophe strikes, and the man whoâs willing to do whatever it takes to keep everyone else safe.â He paused for a moment, looking at Carter: âItâs â unfortunately â a quality Margaret shares, which ends more often than not in a competition of sacrifice. Both of them have saved countless of lives, mine included. Thereâs very little about either of you thatâs conventional, and Iâm sure, thatâll be the tale of your marriage, too. Margaret, Peggy, I doubt youâll ever be what your grandmother might have envisioned her granddaughter to be. It wonât be easy for some to accept that. But one thing, I can say, both as your former boss, as well as â if I may say so â your friend. The US, and the world, can only be grateful for your unorthodoxy.â He gave her a lopsided smile, as she pulled a sarcastically surprised face when he called himself her friend. âSousaâ, he then continued, âweâve had our share of disagreements in how to run operations, but Iâve never doubted that youâd one day be a great husband. Iâm not sure if youâve gotten lucky, or if I should warn you, probably both, but you know Peggy better than I do â if you expect her to agree with you on everything now, just because she wears a ring, youâre sorely mistaken. In any case, it has been my upmost pleasure to work with the two of you, and despite the name-change, I hope, for the sake of country and president, that we will continue our cooperation into the future. Thank you, and, Peggy, Daniel, good luck, and congratulations.â
He had forced himself to not lose sight of the two, because he suspected that if he had looked at Y/N during his speech, he would have forgotten his lines. Returning to his seat, Y/N gave him a reassuring smile: âSee? You did great.â
He returned her smile, though he was curious to know if she had figured out his reason for being nervous. He hadnât been afraid to screw up his lines and mess up Sousaâs and Carterâs big day, though, if he could avoid that, thatâs obviously preferred. No, he was afraid because he knew what he had to do next, and it had nothing to do with his friendsâ wedding. Did she suspect anything? Sheâs a spy, theoretically she couldâve gone through his things without him noticing. But she wouldnât do that, right? He noticed he was fidgeting with his hands â she had even told him that she knew that he did that every time he was uncomfortable. So he forced himself to stop, spending the remainder of the ceremony being incredibly self-aware of every fibre in his being.
âŚâŚ.
Y/N was a bit confused that Thompson had scheduled their return flight for about 48h after the ceremony concluded, which left one day with hardly anything to do â it wasnât like they could hunt down leads on the New York Families in London, albeit the crime levels were high in this city, too.
âAnd youâre sure you donât want me to call the airline to check if they have an earlier flight?â, she asked the next morning whilst brushing out her hair, âIâm sure Stark could get us on a different one.â
âYeah, and Iâm sure I donât want Starkâs helpâ, he scoffed, âheâs the last person I want to be indebted to, and Iâm sure McKinley and the rest can handle another 12 hours without my in-person supervision. They know how to reach me, I left them the hotelâs address.â
Y/N shrugged, accepting his decision.
She liked London, despite it feeling incredibly self-indulgent to her spending time here, knowing that they had an open, incredibly important case on their desks back in New York. But she also didnât want to fight with Thompson over workload, considering he hardly had a life outside of work. His overtime alone would probably be sufficient for a month of holiday, so she kept her mouth shut.
âThinking about Mr. Hayes and the rest of the goons in suits?â, Y/N guessed during breakfast, noticing Jackâs tense stare into his coffee cup.
He blinked, as if he had barely heard her, but then replied: âYeah.â
âWeâll figure it outâ, she said positively, âIâm sure of that. Iâm less sure of how that will affect our companyâs reputation, though, considering some of them are basically our employers.â
Thankful that she had went with his half-hearted response, Jack had now paid attention to her and decided to go with it. âThatâs true, but I doubt theyâd have the leverage to get to us. Unlike other agencies, we actually found our moles. And we brought down Underwood, that should count for something.â
âI hope youâre rightâ, she agreed with a small smile.
Jack grabbed for his coat and hat, having made peace with his life in that moment. Heâd just have to get it over with, because he was in no shape to continue this mental game with himself for longer. And the big downside of dating a spy, so he realised, is that it was incredibly difficult to keep secrets â well â secret. âCâmonâ, he said with a grin, âYouâve got to show me the city. All I know so far is a church and a pub.â
âThen youâve got the top experiences down alreadyâ, Y/N replied sarcastically, getting her own coat and hat before leaving the establishment. They were lucky â today, it wasnât raining, and for it being mid-November, it wasnât even that cold. They spent the morning around Covent Garden and Strand, before, after lunch, they were approaching Marble Arch.
âThat over there, thatâs Hyde Parkâ, Y/N said, pointing at the large park behind the monument.
âThe Park you went to?â, he asked, though, in all fairness, he had memorised the name. after all, it wasnât a long one, and he was cultured enough to know Jekyll and Hyde, so he could easily remember the name.
âExactly. Practically learnt German under these trees.â
For a while, they walked quietly through the park, headed towards the pond that was built within the park.
âCanât say life has exactly gone as I wouldâve imagined it in High Schoolâ, Jack eventually scoffed, âNeither being shipped off to war and fighting an unknown dark matter, nor having to travel to a different continent for a wedding, nor having to hunt down some shady mafia connection of some American millionaires.â
âThat last part is arguably the least surprisingâ, Y/N replied with a grin. âAnd yeah, neither did I. But here we areâ, she sighed slowly, âand with all the drawbacks and the dangers, and all the nightmares⌠I donât think Iâd change a thing if I could. I donât want anyone else to do it in my stead, and to be honest, I donât think I could do anything better than I can do this. Whatever that says about me.â
âProbably that, by all your talk about me being reckless, youâre probably not the most risk-averse person, either.â
Y/N raised an eyebrow: âBut at least I try everything I can to minimise it. You, on the other hand, have a tendency to barge into a room of people with the intention of killing you without a bulletproof vest.â
âNow youâre grossly overstating itâ, he smirked.
âNah, I find it a pretty accurate representation.â
She heard him huff in response. âYou wouldnât change a thing?â
She thought about the question for a while, watching the pond in front of them. Sure, there were many things that she messed up on the way, that would have been nice if they didnât happen. That would have saved her from pain, or that would have saved someoneâs life. But she was too realistic to know that even if she hadnât made a single of the mistake that she did, other mistakes would have happened, and some people still would have been hurt. Possibly, the outcome would have been even worse.
She shook her head: ââŚNo, actually. I think I have made peace with most of my mistakes. And every decision, good or bad, every time I managed to save a life, every time I failed to do it, every time I took a life, it all led me to this place. And Iâm content with that.â If she hadnât made these choices, if she hadnât entered the SSR â if she hadnât gone to L.A., then he would be dead. So even if it was irrational, but every mistake was worth it if it got her here. They had given her the chance to save him.
Lost in her thoughts, in memories both painful and joyful, she had completely ignored Jack next to her. Granted, she had seen him move from her peripheral vision, the pattern closely mirrored someone bending down to tie oneâs shoelaces, so it didnât get her to turn her head.
âWell, I would change something.â
âHuh?â, Y/N was brought back to reality, turning her head around â and freezing mid-way. All she could see was Jack on one knee in front of her, grabbing a box from the inside pocket of his coat whilst clearing his throat. She could see his hands shake â funny, why she noticed these miniscule details, even though she herself was in complete shock, she couldnât say. Perhaps it was that it had become second nature to her by this point.
âI thought of what to tell you, and nothing came to mind. Youâve been with me every step of the way, even on the beaches of Iwo Jima. You know me better than anyone, and to be completely honest, that is actually terrifyingâ, he cracked a nervous grin, â(Your Full Name), will you marry me?â
Pedestrians had stopped in their tracks to watch the scene. Yes, that was the downside of a proposal in public, but good for them â no one knew them, so at least theyâd never run into these people again.
Y/N worked quickly to overcome the initial shock, knowing that she had to say something. She felt a burning sensation in her throat, but she didnât feel the need to cry.
âYesâ, she croaked â at least, she thought she did, though it wasnât as bad as she had imagined it â whilst feeling an urge to laugh, âYes, of course!â
The little gathering of pedestrians that had waited for her response started clapping, which both Jack and Y/N found quite embarrassing, but also somewhat charming as Jack forced his hand to remain still to put his motherâs engagement ring on Y/Nâs finger.
Standing up, he kissed her, albeit fleetingly, as he really didnât want to give the British public a first-row seat into their intimate relationship, but despite the circumstances, he felt like the weight of the world had just fallen off his shoulders.
Y/N had reached for his hand, sliding up to his wrists, and laughed before she whispered: âWhy were you that nervous? Did you think Iâd throw the ring into the pond?â
âTrust me, Iâve been through every possible reaction in my head at least ten times, and that would not have made the top ten of the worst outcomesâ, he replied with a grin.
The crowd started to disperse, until only one elderly man remained behind who walked up to them, sternly looking at Jack before saying: âGood sir, you do understand this was a decision for a lifetime?â
âYes, sir. I do intend to make it last just as long, too.â
The old man started to smile, before tipping his hat and walking away.
Jack turned around, looking in awe at Y/N â in awe for many reasons. He didnât quite understand how he got so lucky in life. Sure, he did a job that should count for something, tried to fight the good fight, but he was far from perfect. In some sense, he was above and below average at the same time â his brilliant moments were far above what normal soldiers or agents usually did, but his worst moments were far worse than just little hiccups. They got people killed, or even worse, he killed people that didnât deserve it. He was moody, and had a short temper, was quick to judge, and stubborn beyond belief. He was quite certain that Y/N could have easily gotten a better deal in marriage, not just in terms of personality, but also in terms of prestige and stability. He hardly exuded luxury.
Nonetheless, he was also just in awe from her reaction.
âI think that is the first and only time I will ever witness you at a loss of wordsâ, he remarked with a grin before leaning in to kiss her again â now, without an audience, it could be just a bit more than a fleeting kiss. But, regrettably, they were still in public and open display of affection was, in Britain as in the US, scorned upon.
âI expected a lot, Mr. Thompson, but I must admit, to my shame as a spy, I didnât expect this!â
âI have to say, it was also something in between having it planned for a while and a split-second decision to actually do it, because if I had planned it more in depth, I was fairly certain youâd figure it outâ, he replied sheepishly, causing her to laugh.
âWhen did you even find the time to buy the ring?â, she inquired whilst looking at it.
âDidnât have to, pop gave me the one ma once wore.â
Y/N stared at him wide-eyed â first, she was touched by the sentimental value of the ring, but she also wanted to know when that happened: âWhat?? But⌠when? You only saw him that once during dinner!â
âYeah, and apparently ma should have been a spy, tooâ, he shrugged, âCause she wasnât at all convinced by that co-worker story. So she gave him this to give to me when you two left the room.â
âI canât believe itâ, Y/N laughed, âshe didnât even truly know we were more than friends!â
âSheâll probably be over the moonâ, Jack guessed, knowing how often his mother had historically asked him about girlfriends and family plans.
âAnd theyâll never know that you ended up proposing to the one âfishing a bullet out of your sternumâ, which is truly unfortunateâ, she lamented jokingly.
âMaybe if youâd held on to the bullet, we couldâve made our wedding rings out of it.â
âThompson!!â, Y/N elbowed him, not mentioning that she, in fact, did hold on to it, âThat would have been macabre and probably bad luck! I donât want a thousand diamonds, but I donât want to have a constant reminder of death around my finger, either.â
He chuckled, finding her outburst rather amusing. âIâm sure weâll find something less traumatic.â
âŚâŚ..
The two of them walked into Peggy and Daniel in the hotel lobby, who were just as confused as Y/N had initially been that they were still here, rather than having left right after the wedding.
âL/N, Thompson, what are you still doing here?â, Sousa asked, brows raised, âI wouldâve bet you left England as soon as possible.â
âWhy, do we seem so partial on New York?â, Y/N asked back, âOf course, no city can truly compete, but still.â
âOh my God.â
Y/N had been too focused on Sousa to notice Peggy investigating her from head to toe â though her investigation abruptly halted when she had reached Y/Nâs hands.
Sousa followed his wifeâs stare, only for Thompson to take Y/Nâs hand to practically hold it up to their eyeline.
âThere you go, Danny-boy.â
âYou twoâ, Y/N said with a laugh, âAre absolute idiots.â
âAgreedâ, Peggy chimed in, and all four of them laughed, knowing that both of them werenât too serious.
âBut hey, at least youâll get to visit the wonderful city of New York at some point in the futureâ, Jack remarked, picking up on Y/Nâs earlier comment.
âOh, yes, I already started to miss the unparalleled friendliness of New Yorkâ, Sousa retorted.
âThatâs why we work there and itâs Jackâs officeâ, Y/N said with a dry grin, âthatâs exactly our kind of crowd.â
A/N: First of all, I hope you enjoyed this rather different type of chapter!! Also, yes, all the details about the location in London is the product of first hand experience, as I walk past this church every single day! Weâve reached about the half-way point of book two, I think! So still approx. 10 more chapters to look forward to. Iâm so excited for you to read the next - letâs just put it that way. Englandâs not the only foreign location this story will take Y/N and Jack! As always, every comment, heart and reblog is extremely appreciated!
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Jack Thompson x Reader
What Lies Before UsÂ
Masterlist (Book 1 and previous chapters)Â
Chapter 10
âYou donât really think they want to pull a Lincoln on Truman?â, Jack asked, visibly irritated after hearing Y/Nâs explanation about the meaning of the 5th of November.
âI have no idea what it means, if itâs literally or figurativelyâ, she shrugged, âBut it means meddling with politics, thatâs for sure. And if Peggyâs intel is right, they already killed a president once in 1901.â
âAnd you think they work with the mob for that?â, he questioned sceptically. Again, Y/N wasnât sure about it â after all, all she had to go on was a piece of paper.
âI donât knowâ, she replied, âbut if you would want to kill someone, having the Mafia do it is arguably the best way to do it. The public can easily be fed an alternative explanation as to why they targeted the person in question, whether that is Truman himself or some other guy in a suit.â
Though they had very little to go on, Thompson decided to inform the Secret Service about it, in order for them to make sure that they did thorough background checks on their members, and to make sure no actual assassination plot would be successful. They needed more time to figure out what the actual plan was, and he really didnât want it to end with the Commander and Chief being killed.
Y/N attempted to make contact with Lorenzo, but she had to make sure that it would not be seen as a meeting with federal agents, and she didnât exactly have his phone number. She did remember a restaurant he often frequented when she initially met him, so she hoped his taste hadnât changed. She pretended that she had found his wallet in the establishment, asking for an address or a number so that she could return it to him. She was lucky â they did have an address left behind, so she went to check it out, making sure she wasnât being followed or observed by anyone, to verify that it was actually his address. Rather than waiting for him there, which she found too risky in case he came home with another mobster, she decided to disguise her note in a letter that looked like an electricity bill. Which was technically forgery, but whoâd check that?
She left behind a post box address to which he could post a letter to, which, again, she found safer than meeting him in person. It would take considerably longer, but then again, it was for his own safety, too.
Jack was still figuring out how he was supposed to have a life next to his job â during the war, combat was all that really mattered. Sure, he had his friends to worry about, to have fun with when they werenât in action, but essentially, there was no past, there was no future. Everyone knew that they could be dead the next day if they were in the field. But that also meant that whenever he took up his weapon, that was all that mattered â getting that next mile of territory, securing the next position. He thought a lot about home, never getting to see his family until the war ended. Or Y/N. In the first months at the SSR, actually, until he was shot, thatâs how he continued. It was always about work, about closing the next case, and it felt like he couldnât stop for one minute because the world hung in the balance.
Unfortunately, he realised, the world would almost always hang in the balance. If he waited for âthings to passâ to have a life, heâd be dead before heâd know it.
âSousa, SSR.â
âCouldnât make it any shorter, Danny-boy?â, Jack asked with a grin, placing his feet on his desk.
âJack. Anything on the Arena Club? Peggy mentioned something about â5th of Novemberâ.â
âYeah, apparently itâs some English poem about a guy who wanted to kill the king, but failedâ, Jack explained, âit could be what theyâve got in mind. Just that weâre not a monarchy.â
âTheyâre after Truman?â
âThatâs what weâre trying to figure out, genius.â
âRightâ, Daniel exhaled audibly, âIf we find anything on our end, Iâll let you know.â
âYou nervous?â
âWhat?â, Daniel asked, obviously confused, âWhy should I be? Itâs politicians and mobsters, Jack, by now, thatâs our most common gig.â
âI didnât mean the caseâ, Jack specified, âI mean your future.â
âThe wedding?â, Sousa asked to confirm, âUhm, no, I mean, itâs just a change of formalities, essentially. Whyâd you ask? Terrified of asking yourself?â
Jack grit his teeth. It wasnât that he was afraid Y/N wouldnât say yes, he was just⌠unsure about the circumstances. âDonât you wish for your life to be, ya know, less dangerous before tying the knot?â
âThen I shouldâve set out to marry someone very different to Peggy, Jackâ, Daniel stated amusedly, âa boring life and her donât really go together.â
Rubbing his chin, Jack nodded, remembering after a second that Sousa had no way to tell that he was, so he added: âYeah.â
âLook, we might never get a month off, but youâll be able to find one day to get married. It doesnât take much. If youâre lucky, your girl wonât drag you half-way across the world to do it, too.â
âHa, I bet youâre ecstatic to meet Family Carterâ, Jack grinned.
âYou kidding?â, Sousa shot back, âI couldnât imagine something more terrifying than that!â
âYouâve probably never been disliked by anyone in your entire life, Danny-boy, so I donât think youâve got reason to worry.â
âThere was a time I was pretty sure you hated me.â
âYes, Sousa, I think there was a time where apparently everyone thought I hated themâ, Jack retorted, both sarcastic, as well as intently self-aware.
Sousa seemed to think for a second what to say, and eventually he replied: âIâm sure Y/N never hated you.â
Jack scoffed: âYouâd be surprised. Iâm quite sure the one time I almost knocked a guyâs tooth out because heâd groped her back in high school, she did kinda hate me.â
âYouâve always had a charming temperament, thenâ, Sousa said and Jack could picture his grin by the sound of his voice.
âMy most winning attribute, Iâm sure. Had to practice throwing a punch somewhere, I guess.â
âThompson, you better get your act together after basically arranging my ceremonyâ, Sousa urged, âAnd donât you say âwhen itâs quietâ, because thatâll never happen, clear?â
âCristal.â
âSo youâll do it?â
âEventually, sureâ, Jack evaded, now very eager to end the call. âWell, Danny-boy, Iâve got to come up with a speech for your day. And call me if you find anything on our case.â
âIâll beat your ass with my crutch if you donât get your act together by my first wedding anniversary, I swear to God, Thompson!â
Jack grinned before ending the call. That gave him at least more than a year to play with. Though he doubted that his nerves would dramatically improve over time.
âŚâŚ.
With their plane currently somewhere over the Atlantic, Y/N eyed the water intently. It felt strange heading back to Europe after a few months away, it felt like returning to something one wanted to leave behind for good, but which was a different place already since her last stay.
âYouâre fidgeting.â
She looked at Jack, who apparently had woken up to provide her with an analysis of her gestures.
âDidnât think Iâd be back so soon, if Iâm being honestâ, she remarked, though she was grateful that theyâd be headed to London, rather than Paris or Berlin.
Jack tilted his head back, closing his eyes. âTell me about it.â
âAbout what?â
âAbout London. What did you do there? Iâve been there once, for virtually a day, to get Peggyâs â or not Peggyâs â file. Whatâs it like?â
Y/N didnât really know how to answer that, it was hard to describe a city.
âItâs⌠old. I mean, for us, from America, itâs just an old city. Theyâve got castles from the Middle Ages everywhereâ, she began, and trying to recount the city made her feel less on edge, âtheyâve got these very typical townhouses, most, I think, from the Victorian period. Theyâre drafty as hell, though.â She laughed at the memory of the tiny corridors of the houses, where, for some reason, it always felt like an air current was present. âThe river Thames is pretty muddy, I have to say. But they have beautiful bridges everywhere, London Bridge most famously. It has a lot of parks, but be careful. The squirrels inside are so used to humans, they practically want to sit on your shoulder. Otherwise⌠a lot of the city has to be rebuilt. The Blitz definitely scarred it.â
âHow long were you there?â, he inquired, noticing how talking about it took her stress away.
âSeveral months, for training purposes. It was rather odd, though, considering we were training for something without having expertise to go on. There were no veterans for us to ask about techniqueâ, she shrugged, âWe had to make it up on the fly.â She paused: âAnd then, at the end of the war before being discharged. Was strange to go back there, seems like so much had changed in relatively short time.â
Opening his eyes to take a look at her, Jack continued his questionnaire: âWhatâs your favourite spot in the city?â
âNot really original, but Hyde Park. I loved spending time at the pond that they built thereâ, she said with a smile, âIt reminded me of Central Park.â
âI bet you sat there readingâ, he guessed â and her laugh told him that he had guessed correctly.
âIn all fairness, I had to become perfectly fluent in a language. I had to read Goethe somewhere. Da stehâ ich nun, ich armer Tor und bin so klug als wie zuvor, and all that.â
He huffed amusedly. He half-remembered that line coming from one professor way back when, and he was fairly certain that it was in Faust. A book he never bothered to read, even with an English translation available.
âRight, your turnâ, she said, âTell me about your time outside of combat.â
He pulled a face: âA lot less scenic, Iâm afraid. In early 1944, we were brought to Camp Pendleton. It was hot and humid, like California is. Were damn glad when we could leave that place, or at least I was. But I guess it helped me in the long run, the weather in the pacific was also hot and humid.â
âJust what you loveâ, Y/N commented with a grin.
âYes, so next time Sousa and Carter ask us to fly to L.A., we meet them halfway in â whatever â Kansas.â
âNothingâs in Kansas.â
âIâm sure weâd find some case thereâ, he remarked with a shrug.
âYou think the Mafia has a new offshore company in Wichita?â, she asked amusedly.
Again, Jack only shrugged: âMaybe theyâre interested in planes, too.â
After all the talk of humid and hot weather, London posed the exact opposite. It was mid-November (and yes, the 5th of November came and went without an assassination, confirming Y/Nâs suspicion that the riddle was more a hint than a plan), and the weather in Englandâs capital was windy and chilly â so not that different from New York, to be fair.
And, of course, for good measure, it was raining.
âMerry old Englandâ, Y/N announced when stepping off the plane and pointing to Jackâs hat, âHope that sits tight, âcause otherwise itâll end up in the Thames, for sure.â
The actual ceremony would be near Green Park, at St. James Church, which was a small, but picturesque church in the city centre. They had flown in with only a night to spare, the next day, they would have to be ready â well, especially Jack had to be ready with his silly (or so he thought) speech that Sousa had asked him to deliver. Why, he still wasnât quite sure. There had to be a thousand more qualified men in Sousaâs life for such a role, whether from his time at school, or even from his time in the army. Did he really think his best choice was him? Jack Thompson, who called him âour biggest yo-yoâ after Krzeminskiâs death?
If so, Thompson felt a bit sorry for the guy. But, he was a responsible man, nonetheless, so naturally, he tried to muster up a speech that would at least be considered okay-ish.
âCan I see it?â, Y/N asked once they were in the hotel room as she watched him go over his lines again.
âNoâ, he replied with a small smile, âI think these types of things are supposed to be surprises to everyone, no?â
âTo the groom and the bride, maybe, but not to me!â, Y/N protested, but for once, she was unsuccessful at getting him to falter. Instead, she faltered to his invitation for a kiss.
âWhy me?â
âWhy he asked you to give that speech?â, Y/N asked back, guessing what he meant, âI suppose youâve worked together on saving the world, thatâs something.â
âNo, I meant youâ, he sat down on the bed behind him, his gaze interrogating her, âwhyâd you stick with me?â
âWhat?â Y/N wasnât sure if she heard correctly â sure, Jack Thompson was often harsh, and pushed people away, and rude, and conceded, but he was also â well, he was Jack. Why wouldnât she have stuck with him, when she knew what he could be? âWhy are you asking me this?â
He shrugged, as if the question wasnât weird at all: âJust tryinâ to understand your rationale.â
âI donât really think about itâ, she confessed with a scoff, âI mean, when you do something particularly reckless, like getting shot, then I might think to myself â why did I fall in love with a madman? But on normal days?â She shrugged: âI guess I donât. I didnât have a particularly cordial relationship to my parents since adolescence, and being a spy makes any real relationships impossible. I guess youâve been the closest to a constant Iâve had, and yeah, we argue, but we both love to argue.â
She expected a sarcastic remark back, but was greeted with nothing but a nod. A bit irritated, she sat down next to him and took his hand with a dry smile: âAnd if it means anything, as much as I stuck with you, you stuck with me for some reason, too. I try not to think about your reasoning, either, otherwise, Iâd just terrify myself.â
Now, that was something Jack could really not understand. Because Y/N was Y/N â not only was she quite possibly the most beautiful woman heâs ever seen, though his metrics might have been off, given that ever since high school, he had believed no woman could compare with that. But it wasnât just her beauty, she was brilliant, which was both impressive and frightening, brave, which was definitely terrifying, strong, arguably even more stubborn than he was, and despite everything sheâd seen, been through and even done, she was still kind.
And there he was, the bogus Navy Cross winner with the nightmares he couldnât shake, with the inability to let people close, the medallist who was rewarded for his cowardice, and the idiot who repetitively trusted the wrong men, getting Dooley killed, getting Krzeminski killed, and nearly causing the Second Coming by siding with Vernon. This really was no competition, and he had no idea why he was still in the game.
âŚâŚ
The two of them left Piccadilly Circus station, and unfortunately, Jack was not yet used to the traffic being on the wrong side of the road, so when checking for traffic, he looked in the wrong direction and was greeted by a very annoyed Brit honking at him and Y/N.
âWhy the hell did they think it was smart to drive on that side of the road?â, he complained annoyed.
âFirst of all â I think they were first, and I doubt your rant will make them switchâ, she replied with a grin, âso you might be better off just looking in both directions next time. But donât worry. Happened to Churchill too, when he visited America.â
The church was already decently filled, most people, neither Jack nor Y/N knew â Angie aside, together with the Howling Commandos, who Jack vividly remembered. Some others, given their accent, Y/N guessed were friends of Sousaâs, possibly from his time in the army. And somewhere in the mix were the parents of the soon-to-be-weds, too.
The two of them were ushered into the front part, as Jack would have to make his way on stage for his speech at some point.
The proceedings began with the onset of music, which muted the talking of all the attendees. Jack, to be completely honest, paid very little attention to the pastor leading the service â in hindsight, he realised that his mother would have been appalled. But he was too busy staring at his notes, eventually earning an elbow to the side by Y/N.
âYouâve done it for Stark with like five minutesâ notice, youâll be perfectâ, she whispered barely audibly.
He only clenched his jaw â these two things could hardly compare. Besides, the speech he had given for stark might just have been the Oxford Dictionary definition for awkward.
What brought him back to reality was seeing Sousa standing in front, obviously nervous, too. So, to be a good friend, Jack tried his best to appear calm.
Peggy looked beautiful. Her dressâ skirt was loose, the top had a beautifully embroidered neckline and bust, and the sleeves were cut just below the elbow. She looked fantastic. Jack knew when the vows were exchanged, though he paid so much attention. And for a moment, it wasnât that he was thinking about his stupid speech, no, he was thinking about Y/N. Would she be willing to do the same? Did she want it?
He glanced to the side, meeting her eyes and she gave him a bright smile. Did that mean yes? Did she read his thoughts yet again? Or was she just happy for Sousa and Carter?
Then, he had to go. Luckily for him, it was a bit like turning a switch. He might be nervous before, but once he knew he had to run, heâd run. No point in being nervous anymore.
Standing in front of the gathered, in front of the newly-weds, and in front of Y/N, he cleared his throat.
âWhen I was asked to deliver this speech by Daniel, I have to say, I pitied the guyâ, he began with a sarcastic remark, which Y/N could only scoff at, âAs our work together doesnât really leave much time for cordial exchange. But possibly, itâs exactly these moments that test a personâs true character. Repetitively, Daniel has proven to be the man you want on your team when catastrophe strikes, and the man whoâs willing to do whatever it takes to keep everyone else safe.â He paused for a moment, looking at Carter: âItâs â unfortunately â a quality Margaret shares, which ends more often than not in a competition of sacrifice. Both of them have saved countless of lives, mine included. Thereâs very little about either of you thatâs conventional, and Iâm sure, thatâll be the tale of your marriage, too. Margaret, Peggy, I doubt youâll ever be what your grandmother might have envisioned her granddaughter to be. It wonât be easy for some to accept that. But one thing, I can say, both as your former boss, as well as â if I may say so â your friend. The US, and the world, can only be grateful for your unorthodoxy.â He gave her a lopsided smile, as she pulled a sarcastically surprised face when he called himself her friend. âSousaâ, he then continued, âweâve had our share of disagreements in how to run operations, but Iâve never doubted that youâd one day be a great husband. Iâm not sure if youâve gotten lucky, or if I should warn you, probably both, but you know Peggy better than I do â if you expect her to agree with you on everything now, just because she wears a ring, youâre sorely mistaken. In any case, it has been my upmost pleasure to work with the two of you, and despite the name-change, I hope, for the sake of country and president, that we will continue our cooperation into the future. Thank you, and, Peggy, Daniel, good luck, and congratulations.â
He had forced himself to not lose sight of the two, because he suspected that if he had looked at Y/N during his speech, he would have forgotten his lines. Returning to his seat, Y/N gave him a reassuring smile: âSee? You did great.â
He returned her smile, though he was curious to know if she had figured out his reason for being nervous. He hadnât been afraid to screw up his lines and mess up Sousaâs and Carterâs big day, though, if he could avoid that, thatâs obviously preferred. No, he was afraid because he knew what he had to do next, and it had nothing to do with his friendsâ wedding. Did she suspect anything? Sheâs a spy, theoretically she couldâve gone through his things without him noticing. But she wouldnât do that, right? He noticed he was fidgeting with his hands â she had even told him that she knew that he did that every time he was uncomfortable. So he forced himself to stop, spending the remainder of the ceremony being incredibly self-aware of every fibre in his being.
âŚâŚ.
Y/N was a bit confused that Thompson had scheduled their return flight for about 48h after the ceremony concluded, which left one day with hardly anything to do â it wasnât like they could hunt down leads on the New York Families in London, albeit the crime levels were high in this city, too.
âAnd youâre sure you donât want me to call the airline to check if they have an earlier flight?â, she asked the next morning whilst brushing out her hair, âIâm sure Stark could get us on a different one.â
âYeah, and Iâm sure I donât want Starkâs helpâ, he scoffed, âheâs the last person I want to be indebted to, and Iâm sure McKinley and the rest can handle another 12 hours without my in-person supervision. They know how to reach me, I left them the hotelâs address.â
Y/N shrugged, accepting his decision.
She liked London, despite it feeling incredibly self-indulgent to her spending time here, knowing that they had an open, incredibly important case on their desks back in New York. But she also didnât want to fight with Thompson over workload, considering he hardly had a life outside of work. His overtime alone would probably be sufficient for a month of holiday, so she kept her mouth shut.
âThinking about Mr. Hayes and the rest of the goons in suits?â, Y/N guessed during breakfast, noticing Jackâs tense stare into his coffee cup.
He blinked, as if he had barely heard her, but then replied: âYeah.â
âWeâll figure it outâ, she said positively, âIâm sure of that. Iâm less sure of how that will affect our companyâs reputation, though, considering some of them are basically our employers.â
Thankful that she had went with his half-hearted response, Jack had now paid attention to her and decided to go with it. âThatâs true, but I doubt theyâd have the leverage to get to us. Unlike other agencies, we actually found our moles. And we brought down Underwood, that should count for something.â
âI hope youâre rightâ, she agreed with a small smile.
Jack grabbed for his coat and hat, having made peace with his life in that moment. Heâd just have to get it over with, because he was in no shape to continue this mental game with himself for longer. And the big downside of dating a spy, so he realised, is that it was incredibly difficult to keep secrets â well â secret. âCâmonâ, he said with a grin, âYouâve got to show me the city. All I know so far is a church and a pub.â
âThen youâve got the top experiences down alreadyâ, Y/N replied sarcastically, getting her own coat and hat before leaving the establishment. They were lucky â today, it wasnât raining, and for it being mid-November, it wasnât even that cold. They spent the morning around Covent Garden and Strand, before, after lunch, they were approaching Marble Arch.
âThat over there, thatâs Hyde Parkâ, Y/N said, pointing at the large park behind the monument.
âThe Park you went to?â, he asked, though, in all fairness, he had memorised the name. after all, it wasnât a long one, and he was cultured enough to know Jekyll and Hyde, so he could easily remember the name.
âExactly. Practically learnt German under these trees.â
For a while, they walked quietly through the park, headed towards the pond that was built within the park.
âCanât say life has exactly gone as I wouldâve imagined it in High Schoolâ, Jack eventually scoffed, âNeither being shipped off to war and fighting an unknown dark matter, nor having to travel to a different continent for a wedding, nor having to hunt down some shady mafia connection of some American millionaires.â
âThat last part is arguably the least surprisingâ, Y/N replied with a grin. âAnd yeah, neither did I. But here we areâ, she sighed slowly, âand with all the drawbacks and the dangers, and all the nightmares⌠I donât think Iâd change a thing if I could. I donât want anyone else to do it in my stead, and to be honest, I donât think I could do anything better than I can do this. Whatever that says about me.â
âProbably that, by all your talk about me being reckless, youâre probably not the most risk-averse person, either.â
Y/N raised an eyebrow: âBut at least I try everything I can to minimise it. You, on the other hand, have a tendency to barge into a room of people with the intention of killing you without a bulletproof vest.â
âNow youâre grossly overstating itâ, he smirked.
âNah, I find it a pretty accurate representation.â
She heard him huff in response. âYou wouldnât change a thing?â
She thought about the question for a while, watching the pond in front of them. Sure, there were many things that she messed up on the way, that would have been nice if they didnât happen. That would have saved her from pain, or that would have saved someoneâs life. But she was too realistic to know that even if she hadnât made a single of the mistake that she did, other mistakes would have happened, and some people still would have been hurt. Possibly, the outcome would have been even worse.
She shook her head: ââŚNo, actually. I think I have made peace with most of my mistakes. And every decision, good or bad, every time I managed to save a life, every time I failed to do it, every time I took a life, it all led me to this place. And Iâm content with that.â If she hadnât made these choices, if she hadnât entered the SSR â if she hadnât gone to L.A., then he would be dead. So even if it was irrational, but every mistake was worth it if it got her here. They had given her the chance to save him.
Lost in her thoughts, in memories both painful and joyful, she had completely ignored Jack next to her. Granted, she had seen him move from her peripheral vision, the pattern closely mirrored someone bending down to tie oneâs shoelaces, so it didnât get her to turn her head.
âWell, I would change something.â
âHuh?â, Y/N was brought back to reality, turning her head around â and freezing mid-way. All she could see was Jack on one knee in front of her, grabbing a box from the inside pocket of his coat whilst clearing his throat. She could see his hands shake â funny, why she noticed these miniscule details, even though she herself was in complete shock, she couldnât say. Perhaps it was that it had become second nature to her by this point.
âI thought of what to tell you, and nothing came to mind. Youâve been with me every step of the way, even on the beaches of Iwo Jima. You know me better than anyone, and to be completely honest, that is actually terrifyingâ, he cracked a nervous grin, â(Your Full Name), will you marry me?â
Pedestrians had stopped in their tracks to watch the scene. Yes, that was the downside of a proposal in public, but good for them â no one knew them, so at least theyâd never run into these people again.
Y/N worked quickly to overcome the initial shock, knowing that she had to say something. She felt a burning sensation in her throat, but she didnât feel the need to cry.
âYesâ, she croaked â at least, she thought she did, though it wasnât as bad as she had imagined it â whilst feeling an urge to laugh, âYes, of course!â
The little gathering of pedestrians that had waited for her response started clapping, which both Jack and Y/N found quite embarrassing, but also somewhat charming as Jack forced his hand to remain still to put his motherâs engagement ring on Y/Nâs finger.
Standing up, he kissed her, albeit fleetingly, as he really didnât want to give the British public a first-row seat into their intimate relationship, but despite the circumstances, he felt like the weight of the world had just fallen off his shoulders.
Y/N had reached for his hand, sliding up to his wrists, and laughed before she whispered: âWhy were you that nervous? Did you think Iâd throw the ring into the pond?â
âTrust me, Iâve been through every possible reaction in my head at least ten times, and that would not have made the top ten of the worst outcomesâ, he replied with a grin.
The crowd started to disperse, until only one elderly man remained behind who walked up to them, sternly looking at Jack before saying: âGood sir, you do understand this was a decision for a lifetime?â
âYes, sir. I do intend to make it last just as long, too.â
The old man started to smile, before tipping his hat and walking away.
Jack turned around, looking in awe at Y/N â in awe for many reasons. He didnât quite understand how he got so lucky in life. Sure, he did a job that should count for something, tried to fight the good fight, but he was far from perfect. In some sense, he was above and below average at the same time â his brilliant moments were far above what normal soldiers or agents usually did, but his worst moments were far worse than just little hiccups. They got people killed, or even worse, he killed people that didnât deserve it. He was moody, and had a short temper, was quick to judge, and stubborn beyond belief. He was quite certain that Y/N could have easily gotten a better deal in marriage, not just in terms of personality, but also in terms of prestige and stability. He hardly exuded luxury.
Nonetheless, he was also just in awe from her reaction.
âI think that is the first and only time I will ever witness you at a loss of wordsâ, he remarked with a grin before leaning in to kiss her again â now, without an audience, it could be just a bit more than a fleeting kiss. But, regrettably, they were still in public and open display of affection was, in Britain as in the US, scorned upon.
âI expected a lot, Mr. Thompson, but I must admit, to my shame as a spy, I didnât expect this!â
âI have to say, it was also something in between having it planned for a while and a split-second decision to actually do it, because if I had planned it more in depth, I was fairly certain youâd figure it outâ, he replied sheepishly, causing her to laugh.
âWhen did you even find the time to buy the ring?â, she inquired whilst looking at it.
âDidnât have to, pop gave me the one ma once wore.â
Y/N stared at him wide-eyed â first, she was touched by the sentimental value of the ring, but she also wanted to know when that happened: âWhat?? But⌠when? You only saw him that once during dinner!â
âYeah, and apparently ma should have been a spy, tooâ, he shrugged, âCause she wasnât at all convinced by that co-worker story. So she gave him this to give to me when you two left the room.â
âI canât believe itâ, Y/N laughed, âshe didnât even truly know we were more than friends!â
âSheâll probably be over the moonâ, Jack guessed, knowing how often his mother had historically asked him about girlfriends and family plans.
âAnd theyâll never know that you ended up proposing to the one âfishing a bullet out of your sternumâ, which is truly unfortunateâ, she lamented jokingly.
âMaybe if youâd held on to the bullet, we couldâve made our wedding rings out of it.â
âThompson!!â, Y/N elbowed him, not mentioning that she, in fact, did hold on to it, âThat would have been macabre and probably bad luck! I donât want a thousand diamonds, but I donât want to have a constant reminder of death around my finger, either.â
He chuckled, finding her outburst rather amusing. âIâm sure weâll find something less traumatic.â
âŚâŚ..
The two of them walked into Peggy and Daniel in the hotel lobby, who were just as confused as Y/N had initially been that they were still here, rather than having left right after the wedding.
âL/N, Thompson, what are you still doing here?â, Sousa asked, brows raised, âI wouldâve bet you left England as soon as possible.â
âWhy, do we seem so partial on New York?â, Y/N asked back, âOf course, no city can truly compete, but still.â
âOh my God.â
Y/N had been too focused on Sousa to notice Peggy investigating her from head to toe â though her investigation abruptly halted when she had reached Y/Nâs hands.
Sousa followed his wifeâs stare, only for Thompson to take Y/Nâs hand to practically hold it up to their eyeline.
âThere you go, Danny-boy.â
âYou twoâ, Y/N said with a laugh, âAre absolute idiots.â
âAgreedâ, Peggy chimed in, and all four of them laughed, knowing that both of them werenât too serious.
âBut hey, at least youâll get to visit the wonderful city of New York at some point in the futureâ, Jack remarked, picking up on Y/Nâs earlier comment.
âOh, yes, I already started to miss the unparalleled friendliness of New Yorkâ, Sousa retorted.
âThatâs why we work there and itâs Jackâs officeâ, Y/N said with a dry grin, âthatâs exactly our kind of crowd.â
A/N: First of all, I hope you enjoyed this rather different type of chapter!! Also, yes, all the details about the location in London is the product of first hand experience, as I walk past this church every single day! Weâve reached about the half-way point of book two, I think! So still approx. 10 more chapters to look forward to. Iâm so excited for you to read the next - letâs just put it that way. Englandâs not the only foreign location this story will take Y/N and Jack! As always, every comment, heart and reblog is extremely appreciated!
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Jack Thompson x Reader
A Farewell of Childhood Friends
Theoretically part of the What Lies beneath universe, but can be read on its own, too!
Context: In December of 1941, the lives of Y/N and Jack are forever changed by the US entering the war. The draft commences, and it is clear that Jack will leave for the frontlines. Unbeknownst to him, Y/N isnât about to sit out the war in New York, though. It would turn out to be a farewell in many ways - physically, as well as to their long-term relationship as friends.
The time at University already felt like ages ago â despite only a few months had passed since Y/N had attained her Bachelorâs degree. It felt like that was part of a different lifetime â as she had graduated just months before Pearl Harbour was attacked. The mood in the country had been antsy before â with the West Coast eyeing the Imperial Japanese fleet, whilst the East Coast watched wearily as the British and French forces experienced their joint Waterloo at Dunkirk. Both forces, the Japanese and the Germans, appeared to be on the rise everywhere they fought. In summer of 1941, the German operation to defeat the Soviet Union began â Operation Barbarossa, as it became known. The first months were similar to their previous operations, like against the French, or the Scandinavian countries. They moved swiftly, sweeping the land like the plague they were. And in the Pacific, island after island was swallowed up by the Empire of the Rising Sun.
The world looked like it was heading for Armageddon, and on December 6th, 1941, the United States were made to watch what hell would look like.
Hours later, the US was no longer a bystander. America was at war. Y/N knew what that meant. It meant that all able-bodied young men would be drafted into service.
She and Jack had talked about the possibility of America entering the war many times. It wasnât like no one expected something to happen to drag them into war â after all, a single ship was enough to get them into the Great War.
And Y/N actually didnât need to ask Jack to know that heâd be there on day one, standing ready to be drafted, if America were to enter the war.
She knew him. She knew both his ambition for recognition, as well as his understanding of duty.
His father had been in the Great War, and if Jack hated to be called one thing, it was being called a coward. He wouldnât hesitate, not because of something this fundamental.
And when they had learnt of what had happened at Pearl Harbour, Y/N saw the steely-eyed resolve in his face.
She knew that she would have to let him go. The thought alone made her feel incredibly selfish â why should she feel like she deserved to keep him here, when all other young men would also be asked to serve? After all, he was just a friend. Her best friend. But only that. She didnât have to wave off her brother to war, or her husband â God forbid! She didnât have anyone to worry about. But it still stung.
Jack didnât tell her where he was going to for his draft, or what branch he was trying to enlist in â suddenly, he was just out of town. It was then that Y/N recounted a memory from not too long ago â just a few weeks, after she had finished her shift at the library. Â
âMy apologiesâ, he asked, and Y/N immediately recognised that he was no native, âI am searching for this address. Could you perhaps show me in the right direction?â
âOf courseâ, Y/N said with a friendly smile, taking the note with the address on it that he was holding to see for what he was looking for. âOh, yes, I know this one. Itâs a road not too far from here. You are not familiar with the streets, Iâm guessing?â He nodded, so Y/N decided that she would be a good Samaritan today. âI can get you there. Itâs on my path home, and Iâm finishing my shift now, anyways.â
Outside on the street, Y/N decided to ask him where he was from â if he was here as a tourist.
âNo, my dearâ, the man said, and the hurt in his voice was unmistakable. âI am afraid that this must now become my home. You see, I have lived in Munich for all of my life. But I donât believe that it is my home anymore.â He pointed to the chain around his neck, on its pendant, Y/N could faintly make out the Star of David. It hit her like a ton of bricks.
âIâm so sorryâ, she said quickly, âI shouldnât have pried. This must have been incredibly hurtful.â
âNo, it is fine, I can assure you. Whether you asked me or not, there is not a second I do not think about it. I tried to remain there, I truly did. My family and I were well-respected⌠once upon a time. We thought about leaving after 1933⌠but we made it work. For a while.â
Y/N didnât pressure him to speak, but she was eager to listen.
âYou see, it wasnât that they rounded us all up right away. It was⌠it was more like a faint wind, eventually turning into a storm. In late 1940, suddenly, I did not know anymore where my children were. They did not tell me that they were leaving. I do not know where they are, but I know they would not leave willingly without telling me, first. And with all the Pogroms, all the violence, I can only imagine the horrors they must be facing.â
She began to meet with the old man regularly, help him to get familiar with life in New York. His name was Eduard Rathenau. On the day where Jack had disappeared, she went to see him again.
After this meeting, Y/N had made up her mind. She knew Jack would be leaving. She knew what was headed their way. Factories would need a new labour force for the wartime production.
But she would not be working in a factory.
Mr. Caswell, a friend of her father, Y/N knew that he was working for the British Armed Forces, and despite his rather harsh sarcasm, he and her had always gotten along â before he was called back to the United Kingdom in 1940.
âYou know that I am a quick learnerâ, she told him over the phone, âand I even know some basic German.â It took some convincing, but he eventually agreed to try to pull some strings to get her a position with the SOE.
Of course, Y/N didnât say that to anyone, especially not after she had experienced her parentsâ reaction to her even suggesting serving.
Once Jack was back in town, she had heard back from Mr. Caswell, and she knew that in only a few weeks, sheâd be on her way to Britain for training purposes.
When she met with Jack in Central Park, the grin on his face already told her one thing: He had done something insanely stupid.
âWhatâs got you all smiling?â, she asked a bit apprehensive, âthey told you you happen to be bulletproof?â
âYouâre looking at a future US Marineâ, he announced, and she only raised her eyebrows.
âYour dad was Army, right?â
âExactly, so I just one-upped him.â
Y/N deadpanned. âYouâve gotta be kiddinâ me. You did not just sign your death sentence to get one over you old man, did you?â
âGuess Iâm not going to end up dead, thenâ, he said with a wink, and Y/N wanted to scream at him. She wanted to tell him not to be a dumbass, but then she remembered, she was talking to Jack Thompson. Perhaps the definition of a jackass.
âIf that was your dream branchâ, she mustered all the strength in her body to give him a genuine smile, or at least, it appeared to be genuine, âthen I congratulate you for getting in. Good thing youâre quite tall.â
As they were walking, Jack eventually turned more serious. âIâm leaving for basic in a few days.â
Y/N only nodded. She knew the normal scheduling. The Forces needed as many men to be recruited as they could manage, and she wasnât surprised that Jack would be one of their most-desired candidates. Not only did he have the physical requirements met, he was also one of the few graduates theyâd get.
âDid you tell your parents?â
âAbout to.â
âI can already see Angelineâs face â the fusion of despair and prideâ, Y/N huffed dryly to mask her own worry, âI bet sheâll pray extra for ya.â
She contemplated telling him about her own future. But when he looked at her with concern in his eyes and told her that he was less worried about his own life than his familyâs wellbeing at home, she knew that she couldnât do that to him. She couldnât make him worry about someone else, especially since sheâd be in Britain â the country that was repetitively hit by enemy fire from the skies.
âTheyâll be alrightâ, she said, trying to sound confident. âAmerica will not be destroyed. Weâll win, whatever it takes. Hell, weâve done it before. Not just two decades ago, we won against the British when they ruled the world. Whatâs another two empires to destroy?â Technically, that was true, but arguably, none of the previous empires had been genocidal in nature. It should become obvious soon enough that the strength needed, the sacrifice required to win this war would be beyond anything they could have anticipated.
âWill you be alright?â
The question startled her. She didnât want to be asked that right now, because she hated lying to his face. She didnât know if sheâd be alright, both physically, as well as emotionally.
âIâm always alright, Jack.â
Seeing her discomfort, he decided to crack a joke instead. âYou better be ready to welcome me home with some swanky parade to celebrate your war hero friend.â
Y/N punched him in the arm: âOh, please, like you need me to inflate your ego!â
He laughed. Y/N didnât know it at the time, but it should have been the last laugh she saw from him before it became tainted by the blood of war. Or maybe it was both his smile and her eyes that were soon to be changed by their experiences.
âJust be careful. And donât try to be the heroâ, Y/N said, unable to get rid of the worry in her voice entirely. âHeroes tend to come back in casquets, you know.â
âYou wonât get of me that easily, promise.â
Y/N huffed. Promises were fragile things. They didnât stop bullets. They didnât stop grenades. But she knew Jack. She knew he was not suicidal â at least most of the times. His records of picking fights may indicate otherwise.
âYou better remember that when fired upon.â
Only a few days later, he came to her front door, dressed to head off for basic training to say goodbye. It was tense. Y/N could tell that he knew this could be farewell. Farewell forever.
And neither of them wanted to make it any harder than need be â so they simply said goodbye. They didnât say everything else they could have said, and perhaps wanted to say. Both of them knew that their service was needed, and they didnât want to make the other worry more than was already the case. Y/N watched him leave with a sinking feeling in her chest.
He was one of a kind. Yes, he was a jackass. And he could be arrogant, rude. But he was also one of the kindest people she had ever met. One of the most brilliant. She had always said to her friend Lara, who kept on bugging her why Jack and her hadnât gone out on a date yet, that she did love him. As a friend. Perhaps, even back then, in her heart, she knew that this wasnât the entire truth. But they were at war, and love made life hard enough at peace.
It had no place for people going to war.
Turning around, after he had disappeared, she packed her things. She didnât say goodbye to anyone. In a way, her world had already left.
Without going to see her parents, she went to the harbour. And left America for an adventure that she had not seen coming in her dreams. She wouldnât serve in Britain as a codebreaker. Or in Britain, at all.
Sheâd be headed to Germany.
All the while, Jack would end up half-way across the world, in the middle of the freaking Pacific.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
Getting ready for the first night at basic training, Jack tried to stay  so focused on all the new information and code of conduct that it would keep his mind off the many things that circled in his mind. That only worked so well, apparently. He heard a scoff from one of the other boys in his room, so he turned around to face him.
âWhatâs her name?â
âWhat?â, Jack frowned, confused what he was getting at.
âA man with your woeful stareâ, the man sat down on his bed, âjust left a gal behind. Whatâs her name?â
âI didnâtâ, Jack replied, thinking back to him saying goodbye to Y/N. yeah, she was a girl, but not like that.
âSure you did, I can see it from hereâ, the man grinned, âIâm Felix, by the way. So, Jack, right? Whoâs she?â
âI have no idea what youâre getting atâ, Jack answered dryly, âsheâs just someone I grew up with. I had the foresight not to get into a relationship before being shipped off to war.â
âHmâ, Felix shrugged, âdonât want to have someone wait for you at home?â
âIâm sure a bunch of people will still be waiting.â
âYeah, but not like that.â
âIâm sure Y/N will be there to inform me that Iâve done something particularly stupid if I do get back.â
Felix raised an eyebrow: âY/N, huh?â
Not entirely sure why he even shared her name, Jack got out his wallet to pull out the small picture from his graduation, where, amongst a crowd of mostly men, Y/N stood out like⌠he had no idea what. She just stood out, at least she did to him.
âYeah, thatâs herâ, he showed the other guy whose lips curled into a telling smile.
âAh, I can seeâ, Felix grinned, âjust a childhood friend, then.â
âYesâ, Jack took back the picture and clenched his jaw. âJust a childhood friend.â
âŚâŚâŚ
Room 21E. Y/N knocked against the wooden door, only to be greeted by a voice telling her that she could come in. The woman inside was bent over a textbook, her brown hair concealing her face. When Y/N entered, she turned around and smiled. Â
âYou must be Y/N, correct?â
Y/N nodded and reached out her hand to greet the woman. âYouâre Peggy?â
âExactly. It would appear we are roommatesâ, the woman replied and shook her hand.
Y/N looked around: âWhen did you arrive? Long time ago?â
âNo, just a few days, actually. I only took up the SOE position after months of deliberation.â
âI seeâ, Y/N placed her bag on the free bed, âyou far away from home?â
âNot nearly as far as you are, darlingâ, Peggy replied warmly, âIt isnât that far to Kent.â
âI can assure youâ, Y/N said dryly, âI may be far away from the place I grew up with, but it ainât home anymore. Seems like everything I knew went to war, or changed with the outbreak of it.â
âI know exactly what you mean.â Y/N heard the sadness in the young womanâs voice.
âYour parents not happy youâre here, too?â, Y/N asked cautiously, sitting on her bed with raised eyebrows.
Peggy gave a thin smile. âLivid, actually.â
âLikewiseâ, Y/N pressed her lips together, âactually, they informed me that theyâre disowning me. Not that thatâs much of a worry. They donât have that much for me to inherit anyways.â
Y/N and Peggy talked a lot on that day. The Englishwoman was incredibly interested to hear about life in America, and Y/N indulged her for a bit. She told her that she didnât have any siblings, that she spent most of her time in New York.
âWhat did you do before the SOE?â, Peggy eventually asked after telling Y/N about her entrance into Bletchley Park some months ago ��� the reason she was back in training now was for further training before being eligible in the structure of command of the SOE.
âUniversity. I finished my degree just months before America entered the warâ, Y/N replied, âworked a side-job to finance the studies and the expenses.â
âWhatâs that like? I imagine less strict regulations than we had in Cambridge.â
âFor leisure?â, Y/N asked and scoffed, âtruth be told, I might have preferred stricter rules for that. Wouldâve spared me a few nights as the responsible adult.â
That statement seemed to confuse her new roommate rather than clarify things, so she added: âI didnât have the most responsible of friends. He had the tendency to get into heaps of trouble that was wildly unnecessary.â
Peggyâs eyebrows shot up and she gave Y/N a smile. âA friend, huh?â
âOh my God, itâs like Lara all over againâ, Y/N thought before clearing her throat. âYeah. We were friendly. I suppose heâs somewhere in California now. You see â becoming a solider apparently wasnât cool enough for him. He had to enlist with the Marines.â She pressed her lips together. âLike I said. Not the most reasonable of people.â
âWhatâs his name?â
Y/N huffed. âJack Thompson. So if you ever see someone mentioned with that name from New York, take cover.â She had no idea how prophetic that statement should become.
âYouâre worried, huh?â
âAbout him, about us, or about the world?â, Y/N asked back, âBecause the answer is the same for all three of those things. Very.â
âAnd why would I have to seek cover?â, Peggy asked with a humorous glean to her eyes.
Y/N scoffed at the question. âBecause he has a bad temper, tends to speak too fast for his own good, and until you get to know him, youâll probably be convinced he is an absolute asshole.â
Again, the prophetic nature of that statement was lost to both women at the time.
âAnd you got to know him.â
âI grew up with him, I didnât have much of a choiceâ, Y/N evaded.
âI seeâ, Peggyâs tone was telling â telling Y/N that she probably had the same doubts about this story that Lara had had â âSimply a childhood friend, then.â
âExactlyâ, Y/N agreed with a smile, thankful that they could simply agree on the vagueness of that statement, âSimply a childhood friend.â
 Neither of them had lied. They werenât more than childhood friends, they hadnât ever held hands, they had never formally had a date â and still, they had shared everything. From silly worries about exams, to family drama, to dreams and fears of the future. That hadnât suddenly changed when Pearl Harbour had been hit. It had started to change in 1939 with the start of the war in Europe. Slowly, dreams started to slip away. The future began to fade. It became a moment of existential crisis. They had pushed each other to finishing their degrees in the face of war, and possibly, that was the only reason they managed to graduate with flying colours.
And now they were here.
One in London, one in California, training for war. Not knowing if theyâd ever see each other again.
That was the brutality of it all. There was no certainty anymore. There was no guarantee for a tomorrow, or for a happy ending.
They were now in a fight for survival, because both of them wanted to come home. They wanted to go home victoriously.
And for that, they were willing to do anything. Anyoneâs war was brutal, but theirs would turn out especially so. But they made good on their promise. They would return. But the blood on their hands would never be wiped away, no matter how often they tried to rinse it off.
They would not return as heroes, not in their own eyes, anyways.
But they would get to meet again. But no longer would they just be the childhood friends they once had been. That light-heartedness remained in a time before they had seen war. But neither of them ever could have guessed the path that the future had in store for them â the two childhood friends from New York.
A/N: I hope you enjoy this little oneshot about them leaving for their respective training camps! Also, I do apologise for the vagueness around Peggyâs career - it is honestly incredibly confusing, because the MCU needs a better historical advisor (I VOLUNTEER). They mentioned her working for the SAS before working for MI5, but the SAS didnât even exist at the time. And apparently she was a nurse in 1936, but she was born in 1921 - so she wouldâve been rather young for that - especially because she also attended Cambridge?? Idk, I picked to make it sound as reasonable as possible! So forgive that vagueness, I tried hahaha. Sometimes they muck it up - like Jack asking Daniel if he lost his leg in Russia. Like, wtf, how should that have happened?? Even those who fought in the European theatre - No western allied soldier set foot on Russian soil as part of the liberation of Europe! The two armies met half-way
Also, yesterday, the last veteran of Iwo Jima passed away. Woody Williams, 98, who received the Medal of Honour, died on June 29th, 2022.Â
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Jack Thompson x Reader
What Lies Before UsÂ
Masterlist (book 1, and previous chapters)Â
Chapter 9
Y/N made an effort to come up with a summary of her information that would be digestible in under multiple daysâ worth of study, but she left some things out on purpose. For example, that during her time investigating, she had managed to find some âsoldiersâ of the families that were willing to cooperate â for money, of course. She felt that sharing these names with her co-workers could work against her in the long run, or at least, work against the case she had built and hoped to pick up on at a later point. She trusted them, but the more people knew about a secret, the higher the probability became of someone spilling it by accident â drunk in a bar, or to their loved ones, or something. It also put them needlessly at risk, and she was pretty sure that she had enough blood on her hands for about ten lifetimesâ worth.
âDo you think itâs possible that itâs just a coincidence that the meetingâs in that area?â, Jack asked when she brought him the file.
âI donât really want to bank on itâ, she shrugged, âI wouldnât know if thereâs any connection between the crowd at our party and the mob, but then again, theyâre interested in the same things. There might be more they have in common than what they donât.â
Jackâs fingers drummed against the top of his desk as he skimmed the papers she had given him.
âGives you a warm feeling knowing in what areas theyâre workingâ, he remarked darkly, âfrom dumpster to suits manufacturing.â
âYes, unfortunately the 1920s and 30s proved to have been great for business, and the war only secured their footholdâ, Y/N commented, âmany members came over to escape Mussolini. One of the stranger side-effects of fascism, I have to admit.â
âAny plans on switching professions and become a historian?â, he joked at her background delivery.
âWho knows, might pay just as badly as our job, but with significantly less gunshot-wound potentialâ, she retorted cynically, âbesides, understanding how the current situation came to be is quite important. The landscape changed dramatically over just a few years, from Irish and Jewish gangs to an almost-monopoly from the Italians.â
Jack only scoffed: âSo you could say Prohibition was a shot in the foot.â
âVery.â
âDoes anyone know you?â, he inquired, âfrom the Mafia?â
Y/N tilted her head: âNot anyone thatâs in the ability to stir any trouble.â She saw his questioning look and only winked.
âTheyâre dead?â
She nodded â many of them were, others were still alive, but not a threat either, because they wouldnât rat on her, knowing the leverage she held against them.
âIâll go through thisâ, Jack lifted the file, âthen Iâll brief the rest.â
âŚâŚ
Going to these types of fairs was something the ordinary person never got to experience â and despite them being everything but ordinary, it wasnât something that happened to Y/N and Jack on the regular, either. He had one up on her with Chadwickâs fundraiser, and that ended up in disaster. Good thing Underwood, Chadwick and Masters were all dead by now. Made a repeat incredibly difficult. However, Y/N still felt a sense of dread when she put on her dress for the night, which felt like something that should be worn by someone within the European nobility, certainly not a girl from New York that was more familiar with different knife-fight techniques than with ballroom etiquette.
Her dress was black, held up by thin straps and with decorative fabric draped across her chest and below her shoulders, and the fabric of her bust was decorated by reflective rhinestones. The skirt was looser, which allowed for easier movement â as well as a place to hide a weapon, as â unfortunately â she did not have the luxury of being able to hide her weapon in a shoulder girdle beneath a suit jacket.
Not certain if she liked what she saw in the mirror as it was such a foreign picture, reminding herself of the feeling looking at her reflection when she had to dress appropriate for German fairs in the 1940s, Y/N pulled a face before continuing to apply her lipstick. There was nothing she could do about it now â and she still preferred to go there, even dressed like this, rather than sending Jack with his men on their own.
Then, she walked out, into the living room of her apartment, where Jack was waiting for her to arrive. He looked up, raising his eyebrows.
âNot a wordâ, she hissed, knowing more than well she looked like a painted doll.
âWhat do you think I was about to say?â
âNo ideaâ, she scoffed, âmaybe that I look like a girl playing dress-up.â
âYou look far too classy for dress-upâ, he replied, holding up his arm for her to hold, more out of amusement at her mood, rather than thinking he needed the stability.
She sighed, looking at his suit: âWell, so do you. Youâll blend right in.â
âIâd return the compliment, but Iâm sure youâd always stand out in a crowd. Anyways, Iâd kiss you, but Iâd ruin your look, and mineâ, Jack said with a grin before leading her outside to his car.
âYouâve got the list of the Club members that should be there?â, Y/N asked, having herself studied it extensively beforehand.
âYes, mother.â
Y/N huffed: âWonderful. Because theyâll prefer talking to you than to me, I fear.â
Jack threw her a look: âTheyâre men, Y/N. Theyâd love talking to someone like you.â
âLike me?â, she shook her head, âI doubt they think I even have a brain.â
âWell, for most of them, other assets count more.â
She pulled a face: âUnfortunately, that will hardly help to figure out if theyâre planning to blow up a city or something.â
âArenât you the one who told me that people do anything for love?â, he asked back with a lopsided grin.
âIâm not planning on making Mr. Hayes one of my next targets. At least not that wayâ, she shot back cynically.
âI wouldnât allow that.â
She whipped her head around to face him: âWhat?â
Jack frowned: âDâyou think Iâd let them do the thing with you?â
âI think weâd do anything to finish a caseâ, she shrugged, âI mean, weâve literally stormed buildings.â
âYeahâ, he scoffed, âIâd rather storm his facilities than resort to the other option.â
She knew where he was coming from, but she also knew that, in the big picture, it wasnât necessarily rational. If it came down to it, the risks of another home invasion might very well be bigger than if sheâd do it her way, though the thought of it alone was enough to gross her out.
âThank the lord we didnât have a thing before I went to Germanyâ, she remarked dryly, âit was difficult enough to not get married to them.â
âHowâd you do it? Staying with them, I meanâ, the question sounded sincere, not accusing at all. He knew very well that she had to do it.
âHonestly?â, she gave him a tight smile, âI thought about the moment when Iâd get to kill them.â
âI really hope you let go of that habit with me.â
She boxed him in the arm: âVery funny, Thompson.â He only laughed, given she herself was obviously not offended and was grinning, too.
They pulled over in front of the establishment, where they met up with McKinley and Harrow, who were similarly dressed to Jack.
âPerimeter is securedâ, McKinley informed, âAll clear, till now.â
âGreat. You know the drill, you head in, donât show your weapons, get a feel for the crowd, ask the right questionsâ, Thompson said quietly, looking at the entrance, which was guarded by two well-built men.
âAnd let me do the talkingâ, he added, pointing to the men with his chin.
Jack walked up to the guards, flashing them his batch: âWeâre here to have a look around, not to cause any trouble. You okay with that?â He was clearly insinuating that if they werenât okay with his plan, heâd cause them more serious problems, so reluctantly, they granted the group of four entrance.
Y/N scanned the room. Aside from several members she recognised from the list of Arena Club members â incidentally, Mr. Hayes was present â she recognised some as most definitely being âsoldiersâ. She could see it in the way they stood outside of the main crowd, more observing than engaging with the guests.
âCarefulâ, she whispered to Jack before making her way towards the former Frost-associate, âdonât get your shoes filthy.â
She hoped that he got her euphemism, but she also knew that he was an excellent agent. Heâd be fine.
âMr. Hayes?â, she asked, mustering up a convincing smile, âI did see correctly!â
He eyed her, obviously asking himself if he knew her from somewhere.
âOh, donât worry, we havenât metâ, she said, doing her very best to adopt a German accent in her English, âErika Neuhausen. Iâve seen you a few times in Los Angeles.â
He gave her a smile and kissed her hand: âI see. What were you doing in L.A.?â
âI moved there in the late 30sâ, she gave him a telling look, âit was a better place to further my career than back at home, if you understand what I mean.â
It really wasnât that difficult to understand what she was insinuating, but she also didnât know how witty her conversation partner was.
âOf courseâ, he nodded and eyed her from top to bottom, leaving her feeling incredibly exposed, âYou work in the show business, I assume?â
She supposed that she was dolled up enough to fit into that category this evening, and she gave him a small nod.
âMaybe the next Miss Dietrich?â, he asked curiously, and she was happy that he at least bought her act of being German.
âOh, you flatter me immensely.â She leaned forward, more than aware that he probably saw deeper into her dĂŠcolletage than she would have liked: âTell me, Mr. Hayes, what does a man like you do in New York? Is local politics not a bit too dull for someone with your status?â
âSweetheart, every seat matters, no matter from which coast or state.â
She tilted her head: âOh yes?â She knew she couldnât press him too hard, otherwise heâd grow suspicious, so she decided to pull the foreigner card. âWhatâs some of the more pressing political matters of the day, Mr. Hayes?â
âA lady like you doesnât have to bore herself with itâ, he gave her a pitiful smile, âYou should enjoy the amenities of this event.â
âOh, I will, Iâm sureâ, she sighed dramatically, âBut you see, ever since I came here, I felt like a stranger to those around me. Maybe you can help with that.â
âThere are two things that drive this country, money and powerâ, he said cryptically, âtheyâre usually behind every political decision that is made. The key is to be on the right side of power.â
She would have loved to tell him that she wasnât interested in a riddle, but knew that she couldnât say that. So instead of showing him her annoyance, she gave him an intrigued smile: âPower, Mr. Hayes, might just be the one universal currency.â She looked around, pretending to spot someone in the distance. âIâll leave you to it, then, Mr. Hayes. It was an immense pleasure.â
She walked off, very happy not to see his smug face any longer. Arguably, she didnât find out what he wanted, exactly, but whatever it was, it sounded ominous. Seemed like the Arena Club, decimation aside, still hadnât given up on its goal to expand their own membersâ power inside the country.
She spotted Jack talk to another member, and she could tell he was making an effort to engage with harmless small talk whilst teasing out the information he needed. She was about to make contact with him when a figure brushed past her, slipping her a note.
She pretended not to react, as she had a slight suspicion as to who it was that had slipped her the note. Once the man had walked past her, she looked to the side, seeing him disappear into the crowd. It was, as she had suspected, Anthony Lorenzo. One of her informants.
Y/N made her way to the restrooms, where she was able to open his note without being watched. She initially damned him for his ugly handwriting, which was almost harder to read than a German code.
Remember, Remember the 5th of November.
November was still a bit away, but she had no idea what he meant by that. Did they have something planned for the 5th of November? Or was it meant to be a code for something?
Storing the note in her bra, she left the restroom to re-enter the crowd again.
âŚâŚ
Jack was talking to George Heath, the CEO of one of Americaâs biggest manufacturer of artillery, who â as it turned out â was also a member of the Club Jack had grown to hate.
âYouâve been in the war, son?â
He had no real intention on sharing any war stories with the man, but he also knew that there was little more that impressed men like this than being told about oneâs time at the front.
âOf courseâ, he nodded, âIt was my duty, after all. Though I have to admit, unfortunately, all the artillery in the world didnât really help us against the Japanese on Iwo Jima.â
The mention of the by now infamous battle brought a sense of admiration to the man in his mid-to-late 50s: âSo Iâve heard. Donât mean it never will, Mr. Thompson, I can assure you, my scientists are working day and night to provide even more lethal weaponry to the US Armed Forces.â
Jack took a sip from his drink and gave the man a tight smile: âIâd hope no oneâd be dumb enough to attack us now, with us being the only ones with nuclear bombs at our disposal.â
âUntil now!â, Heathâs face darkened, âYou know how these things go, think back to poisonous gas. One side uses it, soon enough, everyone uses it. The key is to always stay ahead of the cattle.â
âI couldnât agree more, Mr. Heath.â He noted to himself that though Mr. Heath sounded like a man whoâd sell his soul for an edge over his competitors, he didnât sound like he was in bed with communists.
âYou know, Vernon told me a lot about youâ, Heath continued, and Jack gave his best grieving face.
âOnly good stuff, I hope, God bless his soul.â
âIt was a tragic accident indeedâ, Heath agreed, âUnusual, too. I tried getting a look at the report of what weapon caused it, but the feds wouldnât say. You know something about that, son?â
âIâm afraid not much more than you do, Mr. Heathâ, Jack evaded, âAnd if Iâm honest, even if the scientists did explain it to me, Iâm no artillery expert. Some sort of cannon, I think.â
âYes, something in that manner.â
He looked around: âSon, ever thought about entering the world of politics?â
Jack scoffed at the question: âAbout as much as I have thought about getting into a pool with hungry sharks. No, sir, Iâd rather serve my country, rather than run it.â He bit his tongue not to add â run it to the ground, which is what he suspected would happen if these guys took over the wheel.
âWhoâd you vote for in the last election?â
âThe last election?â, Jack frowned at the question, âwell, Roosevelt. That was 1944. Didnât think a leadership change during a war was that smart, you know? Also, we didnât really have time to get a good look at the other candidate. Given we were trying not to die.â
âWhatâd you think of Truman?â, the question was enough to indicate that Heath himself would rather have someone else in office â which was obvious from the start, considering they were at a convention of the opposite party.
âI try to abstain from judging my employer, Mr. Heathâ, Jack said with a small grin, âwouldnât want to risk being booted.â
âWith that tongue of yours you couldâve become a diplomat, too.â
Jack internally thought to himself that he would have made the worst diplomat in the world, but that he at least now knew what this guy wanted out of the next election: Truman gone.
âThank you, sirâ, he replied with a nod, seeing Y/N emerge from the restroom and meeting his gaze.
âIf you need the SSRâ, he grabbed a business card, âthis is our line.â After he removed himself from Heath, he made his way across the room to meet Y/N, because he was more than certain she wanted to tell him something.
âYou find anything?â
She gave him no response and instead looked in the direction of Heath: âGood chat?â
âAs to be expectedâ, he shrugged, âTalked to half the men on our list. Doubt theyâre in the Commie Camp.â
âYesâ, she tilted her head, âI donât think thatâs their Camp, either.â
She was still mulling over what the hell the 5th of November could be. It was no holiday, it was a regular Wednesday. She wasnât aware of anything particular happening that day, either.
âNow youâre brooding.â
McKinley approached them, informing Jack that he and Harrow had talked to the rest of the list, and that everyone appeared â more or less â clear. And, besides Hayes, none of them seemed to have any idea of what happened in L.A. and with Whitney Frost. Apparently, neither Hugh Jones, nor Hayes had any interest in sharing these details with their colleagues.
âAârightâ, Jack declared, âthen letâs leave.â He had a pretty decent idea of which menâs companies should be monitored by SSR agents in the future â Heath definitely among them.
In the car, Y/N finally opened her mouth to share her finding.
âI got thisâ, she started, awkwardly getting the note out of her bra.
âYou donât got a bag for this?â, Jack noted, a bit embarrassed by the manoeuvre.
âA bag can be stolen, a bra is far less likely to end up in the hands of men I donât invite to hold itâ, she snapped, âAnd besides, itâs nothing you havenât seen before and I canât see anyone else looking.â
He cleared his throat: âAnd whatâs it say?â
âThatâs the thing, I have no idea. It says âremember, remember the 5th of Novemberâ, which sounds like the start to some stupid childrenâs songâ, she shrugged.
âWhereâd you find it?â He frowned, asking himself why someone would walk around with a line from a song to a formal event, only to accidentally drop it.
âI didnât find it, per seâ, she said, stretching out her words, âI was given it.â
âWhat?â, Jack shot her a confused look, âBy whom?â
âBy my informant?â, she said high-pitched, âinside the Mafia?â
âAnd you didnât think that this was a detail worth sharing??â, he shot back, visibly annoyed, âthat we have insiders in there?â
âIt didnât compromise anything, did it?â, she retorted, âBesides, I wanted to minimise the risk of it getting out. If anyone knows, heâs dead and we lose on of our most crucial informants.â She ignored his frustration and continued: âBut, nonetheless, I have no idea what he meant by that. Nothing is scheduled to happen on November 5th, and itâs just a normal Wednesday, in my opinion.â
Jack sighed, choosing not to give her a lecture today about the fact that she didnât get to decide what information was worth sharing with her chief and instead briefed her about his own findings: âOne thing all of them have in common is that they hate the Reds, but they also hate our own politics.â
âI still have no idea how that ties in with the mobâ, Y/N announced, âunless they have some sort of common goal. Whatever that is, though, I have no idea.â
Entering her apartment, Y/N was about to get off her shoes when Jack interrupted her with a lopsided grin: âIf weâre already dressed for the occasion, it would be a shame if we didnât at least have one dance.â
She owned a phonograph, but she hardly used it, so she had no idea what music would start when Jack turned the thing on. It was a slow song, and it was classical music. When she saw his hand reaching out to her, she accepted with a smile. He was still a fantastic lead, and she enjoyed the nearness.
âAnd for the recordâ, he said before spinning her, âI donât think you look like a girl playing dress-up. You look gorgeous, Y/N.â
........
Y/N had checked everything, from local fairs to national conventions, nothing happened on the 5th of November, at least nothing that was publicly planned. Frustrated, she placed down her notes as the phone rang.
âY/N L/N, SSR, with whom-â
âam I speaking, hi Y/N!â, Peggy ended her never-changing greeting with a laugh, âYou sound miserable, if Iâm allowed to say so. Whatâs the matter?â
âNothing, and that is exactly my problemâ, Y/N muttered, âWeâre chasing down a lead with the Arena Club and our lead is very unhelpful.â
âIs the subject not speaking?â
âNo, thatâs not the problemâ, Y/N rubbed the bridge of her nose, easing the headache that she had given herself by squinting all day, âItâs a note that doesnât make sense. And itâs not even encoded, if you can believe it!â
âIs it a foreign language?â
âNo, itâs in English.â
âWhat does it say then?â, she inquired curiously.
âRemember, remember, the 5th of November.â
Y/N was taken aback by the silence that greeted her. âPeggy, you still there?â
âY/Nâ, she heard Peggyâs voice again, âit didnât happen to be a political fair, did it?â
âYeahâ, she frowned, âWhyâd you guess that?â
âBecauseâ, Carter cleared her throat, âthatâs a poem. Remember, remember the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot, I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot. Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t'was his intent, to blow up the King and Parli'ment.â
Now, it was Y/N whose voice failed.
âY/N-â
âPeggy, thank God youâre Englishâ, Y/N announced, âI think I know what the plan is. Iâll call you back!â
She jumped up, walked straight into Jackâs office, throwing open the door without knocking.
âWhoa, ever heard of knocking?!â
âYou said they hate our politicsâ, she reminded him, âcorrect?â
He frowned at her, visibly confused: âYeah?â
âBut they donât hate the entire political system, they just hate the presidentâ, Y/N expanded, obviously waiting for him to catch on, but unlike her, he didnât just talk to Carter.
âWhat are you on about, Y/N?â
âThe 5th of November, you genius!â, she exclaimed, âItâs not about the date, itâs about the action! Taking down the head of state!â
A/N: As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter - if you did, I highly appreciate every comment, reblog, any sort of feedback, or simply a heart. It all helps! Also, I promise this is going somewhere. I have a plan for overarching enemy and everything, even if it might sound all a bit random still! And youâll get some more about Y/Nâs and Jackâs time before the war, too, so thereâs that to look forward to!Â
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