#agent thompson

[drawingsfromthefrogwar]

end of day meeting at site 600,,

#maggie's art #evilverse #agent black #agent thompson #micah finch #o5 6 #scp fanart #scp fandom #scp foundation #site 600

[alphieart]

Black and Thompson

#scp #scp fanart #black and thompson #scp fandom #agent black #agent thompson #commission art

[swan-of-sunrise]

Necessary Evils (Tales From The SSR)

Summary: As they await news of Michael Carter's surgery, (Y/N) and Jack discuss her unwanted connection to Arnim Zola and the feel of foreboding that the former Hydra doctor left in his wake.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Fem!Reader, Peggy Carter X Daniel Sousa, Edwin Jarvis X Ana Jarvis

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi there! This week's surprise one-shot is gonna explore a little of Specs' whereabouts in the aftermath of Bucky Barnes' death in The First Avenger and we're gonna have some great moments between her and Jack, so buckle up! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Necessary Evils January 1948 Los Angeles County Hospital, Los Angeles (Previous One-Shot)

“I got you some tea from the hospital’s cafeteria.” (Y/N) was pulled out of her silent reverie by Jack taking a seat beside her and offering her a disposable paper cup, the concerned gleam in her boyfriend’s blue eyes accompanied by the smallest of smiles for her benefit. “Earl Grey and two teaspoons of honey; I know how much it helps when you get one of your stress headaches.”

(Y/N), touched by his thoughtful gesture, reached over and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She reached for the cup and after taking a long sip, she sat back in the uncomfortable waiting room chair with a frustrated sigh. “I hate this. The longer the surgery takes, the more I’d like to burst into that operating room and re-arrest that Nazi bastard before he tries anything funny with Michael.”

Beside her, Jack nodded as he patiently listened to her threats and threw Peggy – who was anxiously pacing across the hospital waiting room while Daniel unsuccessfully attempted to talk her into sitting down – a furtive glance before replying, “I don’t think this Zola guy would risk a lifetime imprisonment or execution by trying to bump off Carter mid-surgery, Specs. I mean, Stark and half a dozen MP’s are watchin’ him and the neurosurgeons like hawks as we speak, and he’s not gonna jeopardize the sweet deal the JIOA cut for him for something as low-stakes as this.”

“I wouldn’t call any of this ‘low-stakes,’ Flyboy,” (Y/N) murmured, looking around the fully-occupied waiting room and reflexively tightening her grip on her cup of tea; she, Jack, Peggy, Daniel, and the Jarvises, along with over a dozen uniformed SOE officers and SSR officials, were gathered at Los Angeles County Hospital for the long-awaited surgery that would theoretically restore Michael Carter’s mind to what it was before the brainwashing that Hydra subjected him to during the war. Several of the SOE officers served alongside Michael and had volunteered to travel from England to be with their fellow soldier in his time of need, but Peggy was understandably the most concerned of them all; Michael made his younger sister promise not to contact their parents about his staged death in 1941 and sudden reappearance until it was confirmed that the dangerous surgery was a success, wanting to prevent Harrison and Amanda Carter another heartbreak on the off-chance that Arnim Zola and the team of neurosurgeons failed and he passed away on the operating table. The Carter siblings spent several minutes alone with one another before they wheeled Michael into the operating room and since then, Peggy hadn’t been able to stay still. I’d be the same way if Freddie’s life were in the hands of that Nazi son of a bitch, (Y/N) thought to herself and one of her hands moved upwards to caress the locket containing her deceased brother’s photograph as she sympathetically watched Peggy continue to pace.

“You know what I mean.” Jack scooted closer to her side and when she finally looked over at him, the look of concern in his blue eyes was as prominent as ever. “Look, I get why Peggy’s taking all this personally…but I can’t figure why you are, too. You can talk to me, baby…” His hand moved to rest on her shoulder, and (Y/N) could feel the comforting warmth of his touch through the thin material of her blouse. “Whatever you’ve gotta say, I’m here. And if you don’t feel up to talkin’ just yet, then I’ll still be right here with you.”

(Y/N) lowered her gaze to her lap and spent several moments mustering the strength to speak, her voice wavering as she recalled some of the darkest moments of the war, the ones that she wished she could forget forever but sadly never could. “I helped capture Zola. I was deployed with the Howlies in the Swiss Alps, and we were tasked with finding and capturing Zola to interrogate him about Schmidt’s plans. Morita intercepted several radio transmissions from Hydra and after I decoded them, we had confirmation that Zola was on a train scheduled to travel through the same mountain pass that we were navigating. Steve, Bucky, Gabe and I used a zip chord to get onto the train while it was still in motion; Steve and Bucky left to secure the front train cars while Gabe and I stayed on the roof as their back-up, and that’s…that’s when…”

Her boyfriend rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together as he looked over at her. “That was the mission that Sergeant Barnes didn’t survive, wasn’t it?” She nodded, her eyes still diligently trained on the dark blue material of her trousers, but she could feel his compassionate gaze on her as he continued. “Barnes died a hero to his country. The bastard turned against Schmidt to save his own skin, and Cap and the SSR were able to end Hydra and the war. That’s gotta bring you and the rest of the Howling Commandos some satisfaction, right?”

“It did…” (Y/N) admitted, but she tightly pursed her lips as she recalled the aftermath of the fateful mission to capture Zola alive. “Right up until his interrogation, that is.”

The tunnels below the London headquarters of the Strategic Scientific Reserve echoed with the sound of (Y/N)’s standard-issue heels making contact with the stone floor as she approached one of many interrogation cells; her fingers tightly clutched the classified file in her hands in an effort to contain her swirling emotions but judging by the apprehensive expressions on the stationed MP’s faces whenever she passed by, she was doing a poor job of masking her true feelings.

“As requested, a copy of my mission report to D.C.,” (Y/N) announced as she came to a stop before Colonel Phillips, and she arched a brow at the tray of food he was holding. “Hungry?”

“Zola surrendered and didn’t try to do himself in with cyanide, so I figured that the usual interrogation techniques might not work on this wack-job. He should count himself lucky; I’ve got over a dozen SSR agents chomping at the bit to finally get their hands on a live Hydra operative.”

Just as Colonel Phillips balanced the tray on one hand to reach for the file, (Y/N) tightened her grip on it and blurted out, “Colonel, I need to go in there with you.”

“Agent (Y/L/N), you and the rest of the 107th tactical team have my condolences for Sergeant Barnes’ death, but I can’t allow you any access to-”

“Respectfully, Colonel, you’re the commanding officer of the Strategic Scientific Reserve; you can directly authorize an agent access to as many high-security prisoners as you deem necessary, correct? I’m only requesting access to one.”

“You don’t get to tell me how to do my job, Agent.” The sharp tone in the older man’s voice conflicted with the uncharacteristic compassion emanating from his dark brown gaze. “I’ll authorize you access to the observation room, but that’s it.”

(Y/N)’s jaw clenched as she forced herself to remain composed, but there was nothing she could do to keep her voice from trembling with barely-restrained grief. “Colonel, the man on the other side of that door is the reason my friend and God knows how many Allied soldiers are dead. I…I need to do all I can to ensure that he gives us all the intel we need to take Hydra down. I need to help end this war once and for all.”

In contrast with the strained working relationships he shared with Peggy and Howard, Colonel Chester Phillips seemed to have a soft spot for (Y/N) since the moment she was loaned out to the SSR from the OSS; Peggy often speculated that it was because she reminded him of his granddaughter back home and although she’d never admit it aloud, (Y/N) considered him to be the father-figure she’d always longed for. They got along with one another but more importantly, they shared a mutual respect and it was that respect that seemingly compelled the older man into finally giving her a relenting nod. With a brief command from Colonel Phillips, the MP stationed nearby opened the door and after taking a deep breath, (Y/N) followed the colonel into the interrogation cell.

A dim light from an overhead fixture illuminated the sparsely decorated cell, and the Swiss doctor whirled around to face them both as they sat down at the interrogation table; a surge of pleasure rippled through (Y/N) when she observed his colorless face and the way his hands anxiously fiddled with the sleeves of his prisoner’s uniform, and she maintained eye-contact with him as she crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in her seat. Colonel Phillips set the tray of food down onto the table and spun it around before gesturing towards the unoccupied chair across from them. “Sit down.”

With obvious trepidation, Zola followed his order and sat, his brow arching as he looked down at the steak, potatoes, broccoli and glass of milk laid out before him. “What is this?”

“Steak.”

“What is in it?”

“Cow!” Colonel Phillips looked incredulously between (Y/N) and Zola. “Doctor, do you realize how difficult it is to get ahold of a prime cut like that out here?”

The Swiss doctor shrugged. “I don’t eat meat.”

“Why not?”

Taken aback by (Y/N)’s pointed question, Zola fidgeted in his seat and replied, “It disagrees with me.”

“How about cyanide? Does that give you the rumbly tummy, too?”

While Zola’s brow furrowed in confusion, Colonel Phillips spun the tray back around and used the utensils to begin cutting into the steak as (Y/N) continued. “Every Hydra agent that we’ve tried to take alive has crunched a little pill before we can stop him, but not you.”

The colonel hummed in agreement as he feasted on the tray of food, raising his fork in the air and glancing over at (Y/N) with a look of exaggerated curiosity on his wrinkled face. “Here’s my brilliant theory, Agent (Y/L/N): he wants to live.”

“You’re trying to intimidate me, Colonel.” Zola’s beady eyes flicked between them as a sheen of sweat slowly covered his balding head, obviously growing anxious under the strain of his imprisonment and their unconventional interrogation.

Colonel Phillips scoffed. “We bought you dinner. Why don’t we cut to the chase and show Doctor Zola here what’s in that file?”

While the colonel cut the steamed potatoes into quarters, (Y/N) withdrew a single piece of paper from the file and slid it across the table, her red-lacquered nails drumming on the tabletop as she watched the Swiss doctor read the typed mission report aloud. “‘…and in exchange for his full cooperation, Doctor Zola is being remanded to Switzerland…’”

“I sent that message to Washington this morning. Of course, it was encoded.” (Y/N) leaned forward, resting her elbows on the tabletop, and fixed Zola with an unwavering stare. “You guys haven’t broken those codes, have you? That would be awkward.”

Zola’s expression remained neutral, but the lines between his brows were visibly deeper and she could practically see the wheels turning inside his head while he carefully considered his predicament. “Schmidt will know this is a lie.”

“He’s going to kill you anyway, doc.” Colonel Phillips punctuated his blunt reply with a shrug. “You’re a liability. You know more about Schmidt than anyone and the last guy you cost us was Captain Rogers’ closest friend, so I wouldn’t count on the very best of protection.” The sound of Bucky’s scream as he fell from the train and into the deep chasm below played on a loop in (Y/N)’s mind, forcing her to dig her nails into the skin of her palms to keep from reacting, an action she was no stranger to as a woman serving in a secretive branch of the Allied armed forces but one that she hated having to perform in the wake of her friend’s death. “It’s you or Schmidt; it’s just the hand you’ve been dealt.”

The Swiss doctor, taking note of the colonel’s grim tone and the obvious tension in (Y/N)’s shoulders, huffed out a humorless chuckle before nodding once and stating, “Schmidt believes he walks in the footsteps of the gods. Only the world itself will satisfy him.”

“You do realize that’s nuts, don’t you?”

Shaking his head, Zola huffed out a humorless chuckle at the colonel’s comment. “The sanity of the plan is of no consequence.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because he can do it!”

(Y/N), losing patience with Zola and his feeble attempts at providing them with answers, snapped out, “What’s his target?”

When Zola’s beady eyes focused on hers, a shiver of foreboding traveled up (Y/N)’s spine and it took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to look away as he simply replied, “His target…is everywhere.”

“He told us everything we needed to know; the exact coordinates of Schmidt’s secret base in the Alps, a detailed run-down of Schmidt’s plan to bomb over half a dozen of the world’s largest cities, how much time we had before Hydra’s scheduled attack on New York…and within twenty-four hours, Schmidt was dead and Hydra was finally defeated.” (Y/N)’s fingers were wrapped tightly around her now-empty cup and she was leaning against Jack’s side, taking comfort in her boyfriend’s sturdy form as she spoke in the lowest tone she could and kept a wary eye on Peggy across the waiting room. “But there was something about his eyes, like he knew some big secret that the colonel and I could never understand, and I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something we missed.” Swallowing thickly, she finally looked over at Jack and met his empathetic gaze. “That’s crazy, right?”

Jack shook his head. “Definitely not. Listen, Specs, we might’ve both served on opposite ends of the world, but all the horrible shit we saw and lived through during the war? It hasn’t broken us. We’re still here, and our experiences matter because they’re what shaped us into the people we are today: people who dedicated their lives to making this screwed-up world a better place.” The corner of his lip curved into a small smile as he affectionately bumped the side of her head with his own. “You were the one who taught me that.”

Looking into his clear blue eyes, (Y/N) felt the stiffness in her shoulders begin to melt away and she couldn’t fight the smile that slowly made its way onto her face. “I’m a pretty good teacher, aren’t I?”

“Oh, hands-down, the smartest and most gorgeous teacher I’ve ever had.” Her boyfriend’s flirtatious wink forced (Y/N) to mask her giggle with a cough and flash several of the waiting room’s occupants an apologetic look while he quietly continued. “If you think that Zola’s up to no good, then I believe you. There’s no easy way to handle a situation as delicate as Operation Paperclip; all we can do is our best and in this case, the best that we can do is to keep a close eye on him and every other scumbag Nazi scientist that they’ve recruited. How’s that sound, Specs?”

She took a deep breath and gave him a firm nod. “Like a pretty solid game plan, Flyboy.”

Before either of them could say another word, the double doors leading into the hospital’s operating room swung open and Howard strode into the waiting room, a grin on his face as he made a bee-line over to where Peggy stood. “Michael’s been wheeled into a recovery room and all preliminary signs are pointin’ to a successful operation. Your brother’s gonna be just fine, Peg.”

The younger woman’s anxious expression was overtaken by a look of overwhelming relief and she didn’t hesitate to throw her arms around the inventor in a tight hug. The rest of the waiting room collectively released the grateful breath that they’d been holding for hours and while the SOE officers and SSR officials talked amongst themselves, Jack wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and pressed a chaste kiss onto her temple; she closed her eyes and as she took comfort in her boyfriend’s supportive touch, she spoke a silent word of thanks to the universe for Michael’s successful surgery and for sending her a supportive and understanding partner in the form of Jack Grant Thompson.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: They're gonna have their hands full keeping an eye on Zola and the other Hydra scientists 👀 Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I've created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I'll be updating it every time I upload a new one-shot! Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0iKzLZlEK1rTaSIiW5zRlk?si=483950cfa991442a

“Tales From The SSR” Masterlist

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @hufflefluffy @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @coffeeandcrimeshows @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @fannyspammy @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @nincompoopydoo @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular @mads-weasley @mostclevermiss @crowleysqueenofhell @groovyqueer​ @xxruinaxxmcu​

#tales from the ssr #specs and the flyboy #jack thompson x reader #jack thompson x f!reader #peggy carter x daniel sousa #edwin jarvis x ana jarvis #jack thompson #agent thompson #peggy carter #agent carter #daniel sousa #chief sousa #michael carter #howard stark #edwin jarvis #ana jarvis #arnim zola #johann schmidt #red skull #chester phillips #colonel phillips #strategic scientific reserve #marvel cinematic universe

[ribcageeater]

Thompson (right) and Black (Left) were left in my brain for too long and now their both trans.

#art #digital art #scp #scp fandom #scp foundation #agent thompson #agent black

[thesleepyballad]

🖤Jack Thompson🖤

P.s yes this is just a picture of his actor (Chad Micheal Murray) however,I couldn't find a good enough picture that matched the others. I hope you enoyed♡

#marvel #mcu #moodboard #aesthetic #agent carter series #marvel cinematic universe #agent carter season 1 #agent carter season 2 #1940's mcu #Jack Thompson #Chief Thompson #Agent Thompson

[xxruinaxxmcu]

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! It’s 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!

“Clear.”

The room hadn’t been made by room service, who had adhered to the sign outside the door asking for privacy.

“Those are the plans Elias had handed over to them”, Y/N pointed to the desk, recognising the blueprints from Peggy’s descriptions.

“Wasn’t one for much private stuff”, Jack commented. They found no pictures, only the absolute necessities. Crouching down next to the bed, Jack saw something buried below the mattress.

“Wannabe spy”, he commented sarcastically, pulling out a notebook.

Projekt Kriegerblut

HYDRA, Abteilung Forschung für Neurologie und Psychoanalytik

BETA-Proband M.C.

Start Behandlung: September 1940

Y/N had noticed him reading something. “You found something?”

“Hard to say, what does ‘Kriegerblut’ mean?”

“Warrior’s blood”, Y/N frowned, “Why?” He handed her the notebook.

“I think that could link to your friend there.”

Y/N’s eyes scanned the pages. “If that refers to Carter, then lord help us, given that he’s 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 man”, she stated, flipping through the pages. Most were notes by doctors about the change in brain scans after repeated torture and electroshock ‘therapy’.

“What does it say?”, Jack asked impatiently.

“Shhh”, she hushed, “I gotta first read it!”

Loading all the evidence into their car, Y/N continued her lecture whilst Jack started driving to Sousa’s location.

“Unbelievable”, Y/N eventually whispered, “that is actually unbelievable.”

“What is it?”, Jack’s eyes met hers for a split-second, so he saw her deep concern.

“If whatever they are describing here is factual”, she began, “then they are attempting to manipulate individuals, basically rewiring their brains to become assassins devoid of will.”

“Absolute mind control?”, he asked in disbelief, “that’s impossible. That’s gotta be impossible.” Taking over someone temporarily by creating a momentary delusion as had been the case in Fennhoff’s technique was one thing, rewiring someone’s brain fundamentally an entirely different.

Y/N raised an eyebrow: “I hope so, too, but then again, I guess people in the French Revolution would’ve said the same thing about the atomic bomb falling out of freaking planes.”

“So, what, he doesn’t know who he is? So we’re talking to an empty shell now, lacking the chip on the shoulder with the puppet master dead?”, Jack inquired, still not entirely convinced that whatever they had found could actually be reality.

“Do I look like I have experience with Nazi mind control?”, Y/N asked back with a huff, “All I can say is what they reported here. The candidate was captured in summer of 1940, and is described as a ‘European individual in his mid-20s of healthy status’. Age and time of capture would coincide with Michael’s presumed death, and well, there’s the matching initials. Apparently, he was candidate 19, and the only one not to die in the process. He was tortured for months, Jack.”

“Sorry if my sympathy is not overflowing just yet. The guy tried to kill you not even five hours ago, Y/N!”

“Yes, with an emphasis on tried”, Y/N agreed, “but we’re all alive, the kid’s fine, and I only have a bandage and a nasty gash to remind me. Had a scar there anyways, so never mind.” She exhaled. “What’s 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?”

“Neither.”

“Then let’s hope the old trick of hitting him hard enough on the head works”, Y/N commented dryly, “I’m not betting on getting help from the one mind-control expert we’ve come across in the last two years in the form of Fennhoff.”

Once more, silence returned to their car. Y/N knew he was upset, it was written all across his face.

“Are you angry that I didn’t shoot him, are you pissed I didn’t let him shoot the kid, or are you angry that we’re headed to see a possible mad man right now?”, she asked, tilting her head, “or is it all of the above?”

“I’m not angry.”

“Yes”, Y/N snorted, “you are in a glorious mood.”

“No, I’m not”, he agreed, “but I’m not angry. I’m just waiting for this campaign to be over. It feels like since Stark’s disappearance last year, we’ve been chasing boogiemen across the globe and every time we think we’re done, it just continues.”

“I know”, Y/N said quietly, “I’m tired, too.” She swallowed: “But we can’t just ditch now, can we? I mean, you saw Peggy’s face in there. We can’t just leave her and Sousa with someone – or something – of which we have no idea what he’s capable of.”

“Yeah”, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “I know.” Clenching his jaw, he accepted his fate, and his mind returned to duty. “How’d you think we interrogate him? If that file is correct, I doubt he’ll react much to the stick.”

Y/N nodded. “Probably he won’t, yeah”, pressing her lips together, “again, 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.”

“But only Peggy knew him back then”, he interjected, “she can’t interrogate him! That’s bound to fail.”

“Why, because it’s her brother?”, Y/N raised an eyebrow.

Jack looked at her as if asking that question was a crime all by itself. “Yes”, he hissed, “because he’s her brother!”

“You know”, Y/N said with a grin, “Now 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.”

He looked offended: “That’s harsh.”

“You met a monster”, she objected, “I doubt he was like that when they were playing knights in the garden.”

Now, he laughed. “Doesn’t surprise me one bit. Couldn’t imagine Marge being a princess.”

…………

“Rose?”, Y/N asked when they approached the cellar in which Sousa had handcuffed Carter to an interrogation table, “how’s everyone?”

Rose gave her a telling look: “Everyone is just in shock.”

“Is Sousa with him?”, Jack asked and Rose nodded, pointing to the room where they could sit in to the interrogation from behind the one-way mirror.

“Peggy in there?”, Y/N asked, and Rose nodded again.

“Gimme a second”, Y/N said to Jack and left to enter the room. “Peggy?”

The woman sat on the desk, legs crossed. She didn’t look sad, or like she had cried. She looked completely blank as her eyes flickered over to Y/N.

“How’s your arm?”

“Fine.”

Y/N sat next to her, looking into the interrogation room.

“What have I missed?”, she asked silently.

“Nothing”, Peggy said bitterly, “he’s said absolutely nothing.”

“I would have guessed so”, Y/N said, deciding to be upfront, “Jack discovered a notebook in Keller’s room. We weren’t 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.”

“Mind control?”, Peggy asked, forcing herself to look away from Michael, now facing Y/N. Y/N could practically see her trying to pull herself together.

“Yeah, but different than what Fennhoff did with people like Chief Dooley. It’s much more… fundamental”, Y/N tried to explain, “I read it just now on our way here. It was pain-based. Peggy, the details don’t matter that much, but they’ve tortured him for months. It took months for them to drill him into a tool. He became Kandidat 19 – Keller addressed him in that way, too. It would seem that by the time they were done with him, he’d fall into bouts of servitude.” She paused. “But he isn’t perfect. He was referred to as the BETA candidate. In some of the notes, they described how he’d 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 don’t know what they would’ve changed, but they didn’t do that with Michael.”

Peggy remained silent for a while. The door opened and Jack entered, nodding at Peggy.

“Do you think I can get through to him, Y/N?”, Peggy asked. Y/N felt helpless – She had nothing to base this upon. She was forced to answer a question she couldn’t have known the answer to.

“I believe we will not leave any stone unturned”, Y/N spoke eventually. “Dooley 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.”

“You think it’s some sort of drill, right?”, Jack asked Y/N, to which she only nodded. “Then it’s 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.”

Y/N remained quiet because she wanted to know where he was headed with this.

“Well, if it is, then we need to break down his ability to self-discipline.” He said it so matter-of-fact that Y/N had to glance to Peggy, only to see that the brunette also didn’t seem to know what Jack was getting at.

“And how do you suspect we do that, Doctor?”, Y/N asked, crossing her arms.

Jack looked at her with a deadpan look: “It’s my suggestion. It’s gonna involve alcohol. Isn’t that your rationale for hardly touching that stuff?”

“You wanna get him drunk?”, Y/N said, not knowing if he was kidding.

“You got a better idea? It’s probably less harmful than some of the harder drugs out there”, he shrugged.

Y/N turned to Peggy: “Thoughts?”

“He finds gin repulsive”, she said sarcastically, “you better get whiskey.”

“See?”, Y/N said with a grin looking at Thompson, “I knew you two share similarities!” He shot her a venomous glare.

“You don’t happen to have a bottle in the trunk, do you?”, she asked sarcastically, causing him to open his mouth in offence.

“D’you think I’m an alcoholic over here?”

“Nah, I told you before, it’s gotten much better”, she shrugged with a smile, “but I was just checking. I’ll get us the goods.”

…………

When they informed Daniel about the plan, he looked at Thompson and L/N as if they were from outer space.

“That’s your plan?”, he asked, just to be sure he didn’t miss a part, “You’ll get him drunk?”

“Yes”, Thompson confirmed.

“My bad”, Sousa’s tone was mocking, “Here I thought we were the Strategic Scientific Reserve, not the college fraternity admitting another member into our ranks of crazy.”

“If you happened to have gathered some intel about German mind control techniques in the trenches of Bastogne, by all means, dogface”, Thompson huffed, “Speak up.”

Sousa rolled his eyes at the insult. “You know, if there’s one thing the likes of you have in common – it’s that they will go above and beyond to remind the rest of the servicemen that they’re Marines.”

Jack slapped him on the shoulder: “Naturally. We did the legwork for it. Don’t worry, we made even more fun of the swab-jockeys than your kind.”

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. “I guess that referred to the poor sailors that had to work beside you.”

“How’d you guess?”, Jack asked, knowing that she’d probably not have had contact with many members from the Navy during her time in the European theatre.

“Believe 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 don’t hold them in the highest of regards”, she replied, “might have just been Luke, though, and just a lucky guess this time around.”

He winked: “To us, the US Navy was the Marine’s taxi service.”

“Oh my God, way to boast about your choice of branch”, she rolled her eyes amusedly, “C’mon, warrior of God, we’re off to meet Rose and the kid. They left for another safehouse an hour ago.”

“What, we’re not leaving Carter with Sousa and Carter!”, he objected, “besides, last time I checked, I’m the most senior interrogator.”

“Yeah”, she raised an eyebrow at him, “and I’ve seen my share of drunk people for this month. What’s your point?” That remark gave her the reaction she had intended for it to generate – slight embarrassment – as she added: “Besides, he’s cuffed to a table, and we tied down his feet. We’ll put the bunker on lockdown and you’ll need a password to unlock it, so he can’t get out.” She grabbed him by the arm: “Now get going or I swear I will always and forever refer to as a soldier.”

………

“We’re not leaving just to check on the other two, are we?”, Jack asked in the car.

Y/N took notice that he had correctly deducted that from her previous behaviour.

“I think that we shouldn’t be listening in on whatever Peggy has to say to possibly get through to him”, she confirmed quietly, “Peggy’s usually very quiet when it’s about her private life, particularly the one she had before the war.”

“She told you about Michael”, he pointed out, “you’re sure it’s about us listening in, and not just about me listening in?” He shot her a side-glance before returning to the road.

Y/N studied his face. He didn’t seem hurt by the implication, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t.

“No”, she disagreed, “I 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 didn’t 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.” She sighed: “I’m sure she would’ve told you if… well. It’s always harder to say these things to people who come from a family that’s intact. It makes you mourn your losses all over again.” Once she had uttered the words, she realised how utterly sad they had sounded, which was reflected on Jack’s concerned face.

“I don’t feel that way when I’m with your family”, she added quickly, “I have known them for what seems like my entire life.”

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: “They’ll be your family, too.”

……….

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: “Didn’t take the kid to be a baker.”

“Neither.”

Hearing their voices, Rose and Elias watched them enter.

“Agent L/N, how is your arm?”

“Don’t worry”, she waved her hand, “Unlike the SSR men, I used my arm to take it, not my sternum.”

“And you accuse me of bragging”, Jack complained with a grin that he couldn’t quite wipe off his face.

“Oh please”, Y/N rolled her eyes, “I’m actually surprised you didn’t get one of those dodgy tattoos during service. Well, I suppose you make up for it verbally.”

She could see the thoughts spinning in Elias’ 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.

“Don’t worry”, she said in German with a grin, “he’s my fiancé. I’m the one person in this agency that’s allowed to be honest with him.”

“What?”, Jack asked when Elias started laughing.

“Nothing”, Y/N said in a sing-song-voice, “Asked him if he enjoyed his experience in the field today.”

Jack didn’t believe a word of what she was saying and eyed her suspiciously. “Sure.”

“Chief Sousa called a moment ago, something about a report”, Rose spoke up, “He said you two will know what to do.”

“Yeah, that’s a nice term for filing duty”, Y/N remarked dryly, “About the mission.”

She looked around, searching for a desk. “How about this, I’ll do the filing, you”, she turned to Jack, “find us something to eat. I’m starving.”

“You volunteer to do the filing?”, he asked, acting shocked.

“I can be nice from time to time”, she grinned, “Deal?”

“You bet!”

…………

“So you two are headed back to New York soon?”, 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. “Yes, at least for a while.”

“We’re leaving the SSR”, Jack shared, causing Rose to almost drop her food.

“WHAT?”, she exclaimed, “Who’s going to take care of the east, then?!”

Y/N chuckled at her panic. “Don’t worry, Rose. The SSR will be in the best of hands. Perhaps the most capable hands it could ever want. Isn’t that right, Thompson?”

He rolled his eyes at the teasing tone in her voice. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Carter’s going to be in charge”, Y/N said to explain, “she, Colonel Philips and Howard Stark will restructure the SSR.”

Rose pursed her lips, before smiling brightly: “That sounds exciting!”

“Yes, for your sake, I hope Stark’s not too involved”, Jack scoffed, “otherwise, the new offices might explode. Or implode. It’s concerning both happened before.”

“Oh, come on”, Y/N shook her head, “He was involved in almost all the biggest scientific developments of the last decades. And those functioned as intended. At least most of them.”

“I am also very confident that his rocket programme will turn out to be a success”, Elias said with a small smile, “who knows, Stark tech might just be the first man-made thing to land on the moon.”

“The moon?”, Jack asked, not convinced. “Yeah, sure. Why not.”

“Yes, he intends to send a manned rocket to the moon”, Elias nodded, “that’s why he hired me, amongst others.”

“Great”, Thompson scoffed, “make it a one-way ticket and I’ll support it.”

Y/N laughed: “I said to Peggy that you’d say that.”

“If you’re leaving the SSR, what’s next for Chief Thompson and Agent L/N?”, Rose asked curiously.

“The CIA is looking for people with experience to build up their rows”, Jack said, “they were quick to offer us a position.”

“With the new division of responsibility amongst the intelligence services, the SSR won’t be able to act with the level of freedom it was able to in the war and up until September”, Y/N added, “and things in Europe and Asia only seem to become more volatile again. Might be of use to work for the agency that’ll be able to work on the ground.”

She saw Elias’ concerned face. “Do you still have family there?”

“In Germany?”, he shrugged, “I have no idea. Parts of them lived in East Prussia. I haven’t heard from them since late 1944 – so I assume, no. I don’t anymore.”

Y/N’s 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.

“Y/N, did you come across HYDRA when working in Germany?”, Rose asked to change the topic.

The woman shook her head: “No, fortunately not. I was preoccupied with more – well – normal Nazis, though that is an oxymoron in my opinion.”

“I remind you that you didn’t get to experience the joy of searching for snakes in your foxhole”, 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.

“You did not serve in Europe?”, Elias asked, seemingly confused.

“Nah”, Jack pulled a face, “someone had to fight the good fight in the Pacific, too.”

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.

“Thank you, Elias”, she said, shaking his hand. “You’re a good kid.”

“Madame, 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.”

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.

“That’s why you wanted to be the one to escort him”, Jack stated quietly, standing next to her. “To amend.”

“I cannot amend it”, she said, watching the car leave. “But it would seem that he has given me all I can ask for. Acceptance.”

Jack followed her gaze. If that kid was able to accept her decisions, accept her actions – then for God’s 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.

Tag List

@pretty-girl-40

@abysshaven

@deathofmissjackson

@okkulta

@briskywalker

@elleclairez

@ultrarebelheart

@2kitkat4

@shygamergirl01

@21andjusttryingtogetby

@normanbates-coveredinblood

#jack thompson #jack thompson imagine #agent jack thompson #jack thompson x reader #agent jack thompson x reader #agent thompson #agent carter #marvel's agent carter #mcu #marvel cinematic universe

[hjbirthdaywishes]

August 24, 2023

Happy 42 Birthday to Chad Michael Murray.

#Chad Michael Murray #Happy Birthday #Jack Thompson #Agent Jack Thompson #Agent Thompson #Chief Jack Thompson #Chief Thompson #Agent Carter #Marvel Cinematic Universe #MCU #Marvel #August #2023

[symbiotic-slime]

#eddie brock #venom #symbrock #venom symbiote #venom comics #veddie #flash thompson #symflash #symbiot3 #agent venom #eddie x venom #1k

[alder-saan]

I SUMMON THE AGENT CARTER FANDOM!

Fans of Peggy Carter, especially Carterwood fans! (Cartinelli too, even tho I don't ship it personally, it's a cute ship and I love the artworks about those two)

Fans of Dottie Underwood!

Fans of Edwin Jarvis!

Fans of Daniel Sousa, of Jack Thompson, of Howard Stark and of every other Agent Carter character!

Please, let's revive the fandom.

Interact with this post! Like, comment, repost, I want to see if there are some people out there who still care about this tv show.

#rise up #please #agent carter #mcu #marvel #peggy carter #agent carter season 3 #carterwood #cartinelli #peggysous #Dottie Underwood #Edwin Jarvis #Howard Stark #Jack Thompson

[anisecandy]

Peter Parker's polyamorous and in denial, pass it on

#peter parker #spider man #agent venom #flash thompson #venom symbiote #fanart #my art #spider man comics

[alphacomicsvol2]

Agent Venom by InHyuk Lee

#Marvel #Comic #Comics #Agent Venom #Venom #Flash Thompson #InHyuk Lee

[drawingsfromthefrogwar]

site 600 staff relationship chart!! these guys are my world and me and my friend have been working on them for so long,,,

#if you have any questions about different agents or their relationships I will answer them and also be in love with you forever #maggie's art #evilverse #scp fanart #scp fandom #scp foundation #agent thompson #agent black #agent hart #agent monday #agent mishra #agent jamison #agent walker #agent riley #agent jones #factotum florence #agent saeueng #agent campbell #agent qasim

[swan-of-sunrise]

Meet The Thompsons (Tales From The SSR)

Summary: On the night before shipping out, Jack Thompson contemplates his future as a commanding officer in the United States Navy and reflects on his strained relationship with his father before sharing a quiet moment of goodbye with his mother.

Pairing: None

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning/Disclaimers: None

A/N: For this one-shot, we’re gonna focus on Jack’s last night before shipping out and touch on the complicated relationship he has with his family (which we’re definitely gonna explore more in the future, so don’t worry!). Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Meet The Thompsons March 1942 The Home of Richard and Julia Thompson, Philadelphia (Previous One-Shot)

The muffled sounds of laughter and music filtered through the cool night air and up to where Jack was perched on the edge of the roof, his legs dangling over the edge as he rested his weight back on one hand and smoked a cigarette with the other; he was staring up at the constellations mapped out in the dark sky above, silently naming all the formations he’d learned about in school and wondering how different they’d look halfway across the world. True, the twenty-two year old was shipping out to a battleship stationed just off the coast of San Francisco first thing in the morning, but it would only be a matter of time before he’d find himself onboard a destroyer or attack transport deep in the heart of the Pacific Theater; if they don’t look too different, then it’ll be like bringing a piece of home along with me, Jack thought with a small smile, trying and failing not to think about the very real possibility that he might never see his family again.

Jack wasn’t one of those idealistic young men who foolishly believed that the war that had been raging for three years would come to a quick and easy end now that America was in the thick of it, and he certainly didn’t have any delusions of grandeur about what he’d encounter halfway across the world; he remembered his Pop-Pop’s stories about serving in the Army during the Spanish-American War, he’d heard whispers about what his father and uncles had endured throughout the Great War and he’d spent the past several months watching the newsreels that played between each film shown at his favorite movie theater. The brutal images emerging from both Europe and the Pacific had only encouraged Jack, a volunteer enlistee in the Navy’s V-7 program at his alma mater of Cornell University, to study harder at the OCS courses and graduate as one of thousands referred to as ninety-day wonders, deploying with the rank of ensign and the assurance of a promising career in the Navy. He knew exactly what he was getting himself into…but truth be told, that didn’t stop him from feeling nervous about whatever the future had in store for him.

“Jack Grant Thompson, you’d better not be smoking out there after you promised your Gam-Gam that you kicked that nasty habit!”

Cursing under his breath, Jack put his half-smoked cigarette out against the sole of his dress shoe and flicked it into the garden below, waving a hand around to clear the surrounding air as he loudly called over his shoulder, “I’m not, Ma!”

He could detect the exasperation in his mother’s chuckle and a moment later, she sat on his bedroom’s window ledge and looked out at him with a knowing smile on her lined face. “Breaking a promise to your Gam-Gam and lying to your mother all in the same night? That doesn’t sound like the well-behaved little boy that I raised, does it?”

“Geez, it was only one cig, Ma…” Jack sighed at his mother’s attempt to guilt him into apologizing and fought back the smile that threatened to form as he stood and walked across the roof to his bedroom window. “I wouldn’t stress too much about it if I were you; startin’ tomorrow, the Navy’s gonna ensure that your well-behaved little boy lays off the vices for good.”

Julia Thompson hummed in interest at that. “That’s a fair point. In that case, I’ll be sure to write a letter of thanks to Admiral Nimitz.” The evening’s gentle breeze ruffled his mother’s styled blonde hair as her jade-green eyes carefully considered him. “Is the smoking the only reason you’re up here, or are you avoiding the party?” The muffled sounds of Richard Thompson’s booming laugh broke through the music playing downstairs, and Julia’s face dawned with realization when Jack crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the window frame. “Jackie, you’re a smart young man; you know that your father isn’t the best at expressing himself but believe me, he’s proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished. After all, you graduated from the V-7 program at the top of your class – and in only ninety days, no less – and now you’re entering the United States Navy as a commanding officer. What parent wouldn’t be proud of such an accomplishment?”

Jack clenched his jaw and looked up at the stars littering the night sky as he stiffly replied, “Yeah, but would it kill the old man to say it once in a while? All he can ever manage to muster up is ‘Good work, son, but that final GPA could’ve been higher if you only applied yourself more’ or ‘Congratulations, son, but you need to practice more so you don’t fumble the ball after a good pass next season’ or ‘Well done, son, but you ninety-day wonders won’t have half the respect that the CO’s back in my Army days earned.’” He took his frustrations out on a fallen apple from their apple tree, kicking it off the rooftop and running an agitated hand through his freshly-trimmed hair. “I dunno, maybe he’ll finally have somethin’ to say when I ship out and don’t come b-”

“Don’t you even think about finishing that sentence, young man.” The older woman made the sign of the cross and kissed the gold crucifix dangling from her necklace before giving Jack a sharp look. “How do you think I – or the rest of the family, for that matter – feel whenever you fixate on this unnecessary need of yours to prove yourself to your father? We’re all so proud of you, Jackie, and we never miss an opportunity to tell you how proud we are; isn’t our love and approval just as important as his?”

A sense of guilt began gnawing at Jack’s stomach and he slowly nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he heaved another sigh. “I’m sorry, Ma, and I’m sorry for not bein’ a better man of the hour. Some going-away party, huh?”

“Over there, over there, send the word, send the word over there! That the Yanks are coming, the Yanks are coming, the drums rum tumming everywhere!”

“From the sound of it, your uncles and cousins seem to be enjoying the party just fine.” They lapsed into a comfortable silence, and Jack sensed that his mother was quietly searching for the right words to say. “You may be able to put on a brave face and fool the rest of the family, my sweet boy, but you can’t fool your mother. You’re scared for what the future has in store for you.” Julia’s smile was patient and loving and the hand that briefly caressed his cheek was a familiar comfort, but Jack could detect a glint of her own fear in her jade-green eyes as she continued. “You’re not the first in this family I’ve sent off to war, Jackie, but I pray every day that you’ll be the last. Oh, and that reminds me!” She reached into the pocket of her dress and withdrew a small black box. “I’d rather you open this out here away from the rest of the family.”

With a sneaking suspicion of what the box contained, Jack arched a brow but went about opening it, biting his bottom lip to keep from chuckling when he poured its unsurprising contents into his open palm. “Hey, a Saint Christopher medal. How much convincin’ did it take for Father Fitzsimmons to bless this when he found out it was for me?”

His mother covered her mouth to muffle her chuckles. “Now that you mention it, he did wait until I placed my donation into the collection box before beginning his blessing. He’s forgiven the little eleven-year-old who smashed one of the church’s windows during a game of street baseball, but he certainly hasn’t forgotten.” Motioning for him to kneel on the roof in front of the window, Julia took the necklace and fastened it around his neck, her eyes beginning to water despite the smile that she struggled to maintain. “Jackie, while you’re overseas I want you to do two things for me: I want you to wear your Saint Christopher medal, and I want you to…I want you to promise me that no matter what you’ll see over there or how hopeless you might feel, you won’t forget about all the loved ones back home who will be praying for your safe return.”

Jack swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded as he forced himself to return his mother’s smile and readied himself to reassure his mother with promises they both knew he couldn’t keep. “Yeah. Yeah, of course I will, Ma. Now that Roosevelt’s finally gotten us onboard with the rest of the world, this war’ll be over in no time and I’ll be back here before you know it.”

When Julia’s lower lip trembled, he leaned forward and allowed her to wrap her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. “Godspeed, Ensign Thompson.”

His mother’s sweet farewell was what finally brought a prickle of tears to Jack’s eyes, and he found himself returning her hug and burying his face into her shoulder as he savored their private goodbye. In that moment, he made a silent vow to himself: that he would do whatever it took, move heaven or hell if he had to, to return home a war hero worthy of his family’s pride. And with a shiny war medal pinned onto my chest, my father won’t be able to add a stipulation to his praise, he thought with a small inward smirk despite himself.

“So prepare, say a prayer, send the word, send the word to beware! We’ll be over, we’re coming over and we won’t come back ‘till it’s over, over there!”

“I should go and make sure that your uncles and cousins haven’t gotten into your Pop-Pop’s good liquor…” Julia pulled away and gave Jack’s brow a chaste kiss. “Come down whenever you’re ready, Jackie, but don’t wait too long; you have an early train to catch tomorrow morning, after all.”

His mother gave him one last smile before standing and exiting the bedroom, taking care to close the door behind her. After glancing down at the Saint Christopher medal resting against his blue necktie, Jack tucked the necklace into his shirt’s collar and reached into his pocket for his beat-up carton of cigarettes; if he was going to march head-first into one of the largest wars the world had ever seen and finally do something to earn his father’s pride, then he might as well keep fibbing to his Gam-Gam and enjoy his vice to the fullest while he still could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: It was rough writing this, knowing what Jack would end up experiencing during his years of service, but I liked exploring more of his character and can’t wait to revisit the Thompson family in the future! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new one-shot! Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0iKzLZlEK1rTaSIiW5zRlk?si=97af3c9ce3ff4b65

“Tales From The SSR” Masterlist

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @hufflefluffy @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @coffeeandcrimeshows @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @fannyspammy @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @nincompoopydoo​ @seeing-but-not-observing​ @supervoldejaygent​ @momc95​ @brooke0297​ @kinda-c0nfused​ @outoftheregular​ @mads-weasley​ @mostclevermiss​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @groovy-lady​ @xxruinaxxmcu​  

#tales from the ssr #specs and the flyboy #jack thompson #agent thompson #chief thompson #agent carter #strategic scientific reserve #marvel cinematic universe

[ribcageeater]

Thompson and Black designs! Thompson is pre-transition right now bc i haven't finished writing his storyline, this is really early into their employment

Black stfu for 5 seconds challenge (he will fail and then explode)

Thompson would have his hair up but it's his day off <- definitely not Hal not knowing how to draw ponytails

#scp oc #scp #digital art #scp fandom #art #scp fanart #scp foundation #do not tag as shaw #Micha's staff #agent thompson #Agent black #Poor mfs are subjected to the itchy ass turtlenecks

[coelophysis-bauri]

Agent Venom save me...

#venom #agent venom #flash thompson #draw your babygirl in this #old art #this is so stupid #GYAAATTT #if you know me from twitter no you dont

[xxruinaxxmcu]

Jack Thompson x Reader

Previous Chapters 

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. 

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.

“Seems like no one broke out”, 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 hadn’t slept much.

“You look a bit under the weather”, Y/N said with a small smile, “Everything alright?”

The brunet nodded. “Yeah. Peggy’s asleep. So is her brother.”

“Did you get anything?”, Jack asked, pointing towards the interrogation room with his chin.

“Yeah”, he huffed, “seems like you really are our best interrogator, Jack. What a pity you’ll switch agencies.” He paused: “Apparently, 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.”

“So the Soviets know about that entire mind control stuff?”, 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.

“Yeah”, Daniel confirmed, “he mentioned that they continued to work on their technique, improve the compliance of their subjects.”

“That’s why he’s only the BETA candidate”, Y/N threw in, “There must be an ALPHA, too. Someone who’s been trained better. That’s what they outlined in that booklet, too. Does he have details on that person?”

Daniel shook his head: “They made sure for candidates not to meet.”

“And do we know if he’s stable without a handler? Or is he just going to revert back into mad-mode?”, Jack questioned.

“I give no guarantees”, Daniel scoffed, “but I think without Keller’s orders, it should be fine. We’ll 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.” His head turned to Y/N. “Thank you, Y/N. I know you could’ve shot him to get our mission done with less personal risk.”

She waved her hand: “Daniel. I’ve pulled the trigger too quick too often. I suppose I can try the other way once in a while.” Feeling Jack’s gaze upon her, she knew that he knew what she felt, even if he disagreed with her feeling that sense of guilt.

“We’ll take him back to L.A. with us”, Daniel said, nudging his head in the direction of where Michael was still locked up, “probably we’ll leave in about ten hours. Peggy organised private means of transportation.”

“You mean she called Stark.”

“I mean she called Stark”, Sousa confirmed Jack’s guess. “Are you coming with us?”

The two exchanged a quick glance.

“I think we have to get our affairs sorted in New York. I have to talk to McKinley to make him interim Chief”, Jack pulled a face, “and yes, I vetted him as thoroughly as I could, and though he doesn’t have my charm, he’s sure as hell not gonna turn out a Communist or HYDRA agent.”

Daniel and Y/N scoffed simultaneously.

“I described you in a great many ways, Thompson, but charming?”, Daniel grinned.

“If you need backup”, Y/N said, not having to say more than that to clarify her offer. Sousa nodded.

“We will.”

“I’ll organise our fights back to New York”, 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.

“I need Carter to spend a weekend with Y/N, get her out of New York.”

“What?”, Sousa raised an eyebrow, “Are you double-crossing someone again?” It was a clearly a joke, but Jack still rolled his eyes.

“No, you jackass”, he huffed, “but there’s something I need to do, and I can’t have her knowing just yet. Come on, it’s awful keeping a secret from a spy, so I need a spy to help me!”

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.

“Tell Peggy I wish her all the best”, Y/N said to Sousa when they got ready to enter the taxi, “I think she’s quite busy with everything that’s happened.”

“I will”, Sousa said with a smile, “Thank you for the help.”

“Don’t mention it”, she said, “You two have saved our asses more than enough, too.”

Just when they were about to climb into the cab, the door flew open again and Peggy stormed out to hug Y/N. “You didn’t think I would not say goodbye to you, did you?”

“I’m sure you’ve got bigger things on your mind then waving at me”, Y/N laughed, “especially since I’m sure we’ll speak on the phone before you know it.”

“You can count on it!”, Peggy looked over to Jack, nodding at him. “Thank you, Jack. I even relinquish the desire to shoot you.”

Jack snorted. “Yeah? Thanks, Marge.”

“See you around, you two”, Peggy said with a smile as they departed. For once, despite the entire Michael-situation wasn’t yet resolved completely, their case was closed. Keller was dead. The Arena Club dismantled.

Jack Thompson’s and Y/N L/N’s tenue at the SSR was coming to a close.

……………

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 wouldn’t 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/N’s advantage as it gave her wound time to heal without feeling like she was missing out on anything that would’ve 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.

‘Why the hell are you worrying about this, Thompson? You’ve seen how it goes at Carter and Sousa’s. Just don’t fall flat on your face and you’ll be fine’, 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 didn’t know each other, so they might hate each other. And there was the miniscule thing around Y/N’s 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 wasn’t much they could do about it, it was one of the only moments – perhaps of their entire lives – 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 they’d spend a weekend together back in Boston where Peggy knew a childhood friend who was selling wedding dresses. Y/N wasn’t that thrilled to return to that city again so soon – but after being threatened to have to fly to L.A. to meet with her instead, she agreed.

“You sure you don’t want to come?”, Y/N asked when packing her suitcase, looking over to her fiancé. “We don’t really do things traditionally, so I don’t mind if you see the dress before day X.”

“You’re right”, he pushed himself off the wall with a grin, “we did everything up until this moment in an unorthodox manner. Let’s do this one thing the old-fashion way. I’m sure my ma would be livid if we didn’t.” He gave her a quick kiss, causing Y/N to laugh.

“Your ma would be livid if she knew half the crap we’ve done together”, Y/N informed him, “And I don’t even mean just our work now, I doubt she’d be happy with all the stuff that happened before the war, either.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, we were practically saints at university”, he said with a wink, making her scoff.

“Yeah. I hope Nick bites his tongue if he’s around on our wedding day. Don’t want your parents’ image of their saintly son to be destroyed.”

………

Y/N was greeted by her friend at the airport. “You really didn’t have to fly all across the country just for this silly thing”, Y/N said after giving her a hug, “I’m sure Jack wouldn’t have walked off the altar just because I was wearing a normal dress. With that temper of his, he can’t afford to be picky.”

Peggy laughed at her jab at her fiancé. “You know, Y/N, I have to agree with you on this one! Doesn’t mean you should not do it, still. Maybe I just want to see that airhead speechless once.”

Y/N grinned. “He does have a tendency to want the last word. That, and he doesn’t have the best of filters. Should’ve seen him when we met again after the war. I wasn’t sure if he was about to jump at me to hug me, or slap me, and he just ended up accidentally insulting me.”

“What?”, Peggy looked offended on Y/N’s behalf when she heard that, and Y/N only waved.

“I’m pretty sure he had a rough night before”, she said with a lopsided smile, “and he’s never been good at personal diplomacy. Trust me, you eventually learn to handle and to interpret his insults. Most of them aren’t meant to be taken literally, or even figuratively, they’re just an expression of Thompson-doesn’t-know-what-to-say.”

As they made their way through the city, Y/N sighed. “Didn’t expect to be back here so soon, I have to say. But I guess I can’t hate every city for what happened in it, otherwise, sooner or later, I won’t be able to live in the US entirely.”

“So you’ve gotten over your hatred for L.A.?”, Peggy asked with raised eyebrows.

“No.”

“No?” The brunette laughed.

“No, but for a whole host of reasons. First”, Y/N raised a finger, “I don’t like the climate. Way to hot. I prefer more moderate weather, and New York’s summers are hot enough. Second, I am deeply weirded out by Hollywood. Feels like throwing a glittering blanket over a pile of dirty laundry.” Peggy laughed at her description of most people’s idolised part of America, but Y/N continued. “Third, 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.”

“Yes, some days, I share that sentiment”, Peggy agreed, “By all his brilliance, he is a nuisance, too.”

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. “How is your brother?”

“I think he is getting better. It is really hard, though, for him to – you know – figure out who he is, again. Who he really is, without mind control, without the programme that they had drilled into him”, Peggy replied, her tone calm and relatively collected. “But I know he’ll get through this. Michael taught me what it means to fight to get what no one thought possible. He survived all they’ve done to him – he’ll get back.”

“We’ll have to look into that programming, though”, Y/N muttered, clenching her jaw, “it doesn’t sound from the notebook that they’re thinking about scaling back their experiments. Chances are, we’ve got several other American or British POWs that underwent similar procedures and are being reintroduced into the country to do their bidding.”

“Yes”, Peggy agreed, frowning at the thought. Then, she shook her head. “But not today. Today, you’re going to find the perfect dress!”

…………

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 – 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 – at least, she had been when she left for Europe. Oh well. ‘Here goes nothing’. 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 – he knew she wouldn’t 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 – maybe fifteen. Dark hair and dark eyes, he looked confused when he opened the door.

“Yes? Can I help you?”, the boy asked.

“I’m looking for Mr. L/N”, Jack replied, “is he here?”

“He’s upstairs”, the boy replied, “who’s asking? I can get him.”

“Jack Thompson”, Jack pulled out his SSR ID, “He might remember me from when he lived in New York. I went to school with his daughter.”

“Dad?”, the boy turned around and yelled upstairs, “someone here to see you! A federal agent!”

Jack heard the footsteps of Y/N’s father descending the stairs. When he saw Jack in the doorframe, his face froze.

“You’re the boy Y/N went to school and university with”, he stated.

“Yes”, Jack nodded, shaking the man’s hand, “Jack Thompson. I’ve worked with your daughter at the SSR after the war, too.”

An aura of darkness, perhaps of sorrow or nostalgia coated the man’s face. “Seems like she couldn’t let it go.”

Jack’s eyebrows twitched upwards. “Sir, 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.”

Mr. L/N pressed his lips together. “And you came here to bring me the notice of her passing? Is that it? Your sworn duty as her commanding officer?”

“What?”, Jack frowned, “No. Y/N’s alive and well, sir. I came here to ask you to give your daughter the right to choose. She didn’t have to serve. And yet, she did. And when she came back, she didn’t have to work for an intelligence agency. And yet, she did. Hell, I didn’t 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 hadn’t been for her, I’d be dead.”

Mr. L/N looked over his shoulder, at the boy still standing there. “Give us a moment, Rich.” Then, he stepped outside, alone, to face Jack.

“Mr. Thompson, when Y/N decided to head to England, her mother already knew that she was sick. She just didn’t tell Y/N right away. We didn’t want her to go, because we already knew we’d lose someone within the next years. Before she could tell Y/N, she was on her way to England.” He sounded bitter, angry, because that meant that his only child had left him alone.

“Sir, I get that this must’ve hurt, I do”, Jack clenched his jaw, “but 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.” He paused. “So 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?” For once, he managed not to raise his voice to a hostile level, but he nonetheless stared down Mr. L/N.

“Mr. Thompson”, he said slowly, carefully, “Why did you come here?”

Jack huffed. “I 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.”

……………

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 – 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 – 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 didn’t manage to smile. She felt like she was staring at someone else entirely.

“You look stunning, Y/N. Absolutely gorgeous!”, Peggy stated and added with a smile, “What exactly Jack Thompson did to deserve you, I shall never know.”

Y/N couldn’t help but to grin at that remark. She knew that Peggy and Jack had started off – and continued for a long while – on the wrong foot.

“He really was a prick after the war, huh”, Y/N huffed, pulling the fabric around her neckline into place.

“The worst part is – at least he had somewhat of an explanation for it”, Peggy lamented, “But how many others are just as bad as he was and aren’t as marked by the years we spent abroad?”

“Peg, I am sorry to inform you, but if you want to live in a world without being degraded by our wonderful male co-workers”, Y/N said, turning to face the brunette with a cynical smile, “Then you were born at least two hundred years too early.”

“Well, someone has to pave the way, and I suppose, for the time being, that’ll have to be the two of us – and in all fairness, we have come a long way within the SSR”, Peggy replied, and Y/N nodded with one eyebrow raised.

“I suppose we have. Though you’ve had it significantly worse than I did. I was never accused of treason, or kicked out, or blackmailed with another person’s file”, Y/N said dryly.

“Indeed, the accusation of treason mostly came from my now-husband, I was kicked out by Chief Dooley, and blackmailed by Chief Thompson”, she recounted, laughing, “I suppose now I’ve gotten a beating from all the Chiefs, so maybe I am good now.”

“You better be, considering you’ll be heading a new organisation soon”, Y/N winked, “unless you go against yourself – you’ve got only Howard Stark to fear, and I think he has better things to do than to go after you. A suggestion from me – he should invest in a better vault. And security system.”

……………

“Mr. Thompson!”, Jack looked over his shoulder as he was walking back to his car when he saw the kid from before running towards him.

“Can I help you, kid?”, he asked, turning around with an eyebrow raised.

“Dad never mentioned that Y/N was still alive”, the boy said, “He 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.” He held out his hand: “I’m Rich. I’m Y/N’s stepbrother.”

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.

“Pleasure to meet you, Rich.”

“What is she like?”

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 didn’t even know where to begin with. How should he explain to this kid what a person Y/N was?

“Y/N”, he eventually said, elongating her name in the search for words, “She’s, uhm, probably the bravest, kindest, and strongest person I’ve ever met. Words don’t do her justice.”

“Dad hardly ever mentioned her – you said that she served… where did she serve? Dad didn’t seem thrilled about it.”

Jack knew that it wasn’t his story to tell – the spying, the entire tale of Y/N’s time in Germany, but he also wanted to convey to this boy that his ‘dad’ was dead-wrong for having been upset at his daughter, so he decided to rub it right in his face. “She fought against the Nazis. She spent the war in Europe. That’s why she left.”

It had the effect he had wanted – Rich’s mouth fell open as he stared at Jack in disbelief. “What? That’s awesome!”

“Yeah, well”, Jack gave him a lopsided grin and nodded towards the house behind them, “tell that to your dad, will ya, kid?”

“I will, sir!” Jack almost pulled a face at the kid calling him ‘sir’. Only the pencil pushers in the SSR called him that, and even they only rarely did. Most of them just called him ‘Chief’. The last time he was called ‘sir’ right, left and centre was back in the military.

“See you around, Rich.”

…………

When Y/N returned, she wasn’t surprised when Jack was not at either her or his place – though their time at the SSR was coming to an end, he still didn’t 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. “Is something the matter, gentlemen?”

“We knew about you leaving the SSR together with the Chief, but he only now mentioned that you’ll soon be married”, Goldberg eventually said, causing Y/N to raise her other eyebrow as she laughed.

“Yes, I’m sorry for myself, too.”

“Hey!” She grinned at Jack whose head popped out of the bullpen as he shook his head: “Unbelievable.”

“Congratulations, Y/N. Can’t say I saw that coming when you had your first day here, I thought you’d be more likely his murderer than his wife, but I stand corrected.”

Y/N laughed at Goldberg’s not entirely wrong analysis of hers and Jack’s first meeting post-war.

“What can I say”, she said, “we’ve never done things traditionally. That applies professionally as well as privately, it would seem.”

“I swear, if you now start telling them about our yesteryears, I’ll fire you on the spot”, Jack warned jokingly, “I want to upkeep my reputation for my next job.”

Y/N huffed: “I have no idea what you’re getting at, Jack. Your drinking escapades aside, and your unbelievable ability to make enemies, you were a straight-A student all your life.” And both of these aspects of his personality weren’t all that well-hidden, though, perhaps, his subordinates merely got to see the surface of both.

In fact, that was perhaps one of Jack Thompson’s 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 – the best at maths, the best at sports, the best at anything he ever did, and he’d do anything to succeed. That didn’t 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. That’s how it’s always been – 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 fiancé. 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 – at heart, he still did it all with good intentions. He wouldn’t ever back out of a fight in fear over his own life. He was willing to die for his job. And he didn’t 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 ‘the others’. 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 I’m going to marry him – 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 – she really didn’t want him to become a martyr. She didn’t 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 – then, she would feel like an absolute imposter. She had just as long a list of flaws and mistakes.

That’s why it worked. They needed each other – and in a sense, they always had.

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