Undeniable (Tales From The SSR)
Summary: In the aftermath of their clash with the Secret Empire and Leviathan, (Y/N) slowly bleeds out from a knife wound and Jack is forced to reckon with the very real possibility of losing the love of his life before ever confessing his feelings.
Pairings: Jack Thompson X F!Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings/Disclaimers: None
A/N: Hi there, long time no see! I've been busy working on a couple of other fics so I'm sorry for the delay, but here's some long-awaited Protective/Yearning Jack Thompson for ya'll! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!
Undeniable November 1947 Leviathan’s Weapons Facility, Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic (Previous One-Shot)
It was the indisputable truth of Jack Thompson’s life that pain was an old friend. As a child, he skinned his knees damn near to the bone after falling off his bicycle and he had to have three teeth extracted. In high school, he’d undergone an emergency appendectomy and he’d broken his arm during a football game. In college, four consecutive years of bar fights resulted in a broken nose during his freshman year, a broken jaw in his sophomore year, a broken collarbone as a junior and three broken fingers rounding off his senior year. He’d contracted malaria in the South Pacific during the war, suffered a severe concussion after the Battle of Iwo Jima and been pulled into the darkest depths of depression after accidentally killing the six Japanese soldiers that had only wanted to surrender and burying the shameful secret in the sands of Okinawa. A fight against Dottie Underwood resulted in a broken right hand and when he’d gotten too close to the Secret Empire’s business dealings, he’d been shot point-blank in the chest and nearly bled to death in his hotel room. And in just the past forty-eight hours, he’d endured the harshest form of torture that Hydra could concoct and had come dangerously close to dying of hypothermia in the snowy forests of the Soviet Union.
At twenty-eight years of age, Jack assumed that he’d experienced every kind of pain a person could possibly experience in their lifetime, but there was nothing that could’ve prepared him for seeing the woman he loved writhing in agony and being entirely powerless to put an stop to her suffering.
“What’s the prognosis, doc?” (Y/N) weakly chuckled, her face hidden in Jack’s neck and her hand gripping his bicep while Jarvis inspected the stab wound on her upper back. “Will a Band-Aid cut it, or are you going to treat me like one of Ana’s pin cushions again?”
Jack shook his head in fond exasperation as his arm unperceptively tightened around her waist. “Bleeding like a stuck pig, and you’re sittin’ here cracking jokes. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”
“Not let me bleed out on the floor of a boiler room, I hope.”
Jaw clenching at the codebreaker’s repetition of Thomas Attwell’s cold-hearted jab, Jack glanced across the dimly-lit room at the man’s body and felt a surge of cruel satisfaction at the sight; although he would’ve preferred to be the one who pulled the trigger, he was pleased that the leader of the Secret Empire had paid for what he’d done to his partner with his life. (Y/N) violently flinched in his arms and he immediately looked down to see Jarvis tightly pressing a bundle of gauze against the bleeding wound. “I apologize, Miss (Y/L/N), but it’s imperative that we staunch the bleeding. I’ll wrap the wound, but we’ll need to return to our base camp before I can continue treating this; the filthy, freezing boiler room of an abandoned warehouse is hardly the most sterile place to administer any stitches.”
(Y/N)’s grip on Jack’s bicep tightened as she stiffly nodded. “Thank you, Jarvis.”
The butler’s gaze softened. “Think nothing of it, Miss (Y/L/N).”
While Jarvis began bandaging the wound, Jack observed the flurry of activity throughout the boiler room with simmering impatience, too concerned by his partner’s chattering teeth and chilled nose to truly care about the importance of his teammate’s tasks; Dugan had disappeared in search of the perfect stretch of wall to create an exit route, Henry was helping Daniel secure more bandages around Pinkerton and Sawyer’s superficial wounds – the British man had been struck in the leg by shrapnel in the firefight against Leviathan’s soldiers while the American’s arm had been grazed by a stray bullet – and Howard was carefully tucking the locked box containing the highly-dangerous Zodiac vial into a satchel while Peggy spoke in low tones to her repentant brother out of earshot of the others. What the hell’s taking that loudmouth so long to blow a hole in the damn wall, Jack thought to himself as his nostrils flared in frustration.
“You’ll chip a molar if you keep on clenching your jaw like that, Flyboy.” (Y/N)’s soft-spoken words cut through Jack’s silent agonizing. The codebreaker was smiling reassuringly at him but instead of bringing him any semblance of comfort, the gesture only caused guilt to pool in his stomach; it was he who was meant to be providing comfort, not the woman who was slowly bleeding out in his arms. “Believe it or not, I’ve been in plenty of worse scrapes than this.”
Jack arched a skeptical brow. “Have you, now?” Beside them, the rookie L.A.P.D. officer was gathering up the blood-soaked bandages he’d helped change and (Y/N)’s smile vanished as her skin grew clammy. Recalling that his partner was prone to fainting at the mere sight of blood, Jack carefully re-positioned himself to block her view and for good measure, he brought his free hand up and brushed some wayward strands of hair behind her ear as an added distraction. “Yeah, I’m not buyin’ it. There’s no way you’ve gone through somethin’ worse than this, Specs.”
(Y/N)’s eyes flashed, a familiar look of determination instantly crossing her features. “Let’s see, in the spring of ’44, I caught influenza in the Greek countryside and almost died, I was concussed during a raid on a Hydra base a month later, I broke my arm falling out of a tree when I was twelve, I-” She cut herself off when she caught sight of the smirk Jack was attempting to hide, and her jaw dropped in indignation. “You’re purposefully riling me up so that I don’t pass out down here. You think you’re pretty slick, don’t you?”
“Yep.” Jack popped the ‘p’ at the end of the word with a self-satisfied grin and (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Hey, it’s working, isn’t it?” Jarvis tied off the gauze holding the bandage secure and her face contorted in pain, her stifled whimper of pain immediately wiping the smile off of Jack’s face and prompting him to shout over his shoulder, “Dugan, what the hell’s takin’ so long back there? I’ve already gotten hypothermia once this week, and I’d prefer not to get it again!”
“Setting charges ain’t exactly a walk in the park, Chief!” Came Dugan’s muffled reply, and Jack huffed in irritation. “Don’t get your skivvies in a bind, I’ll be done lickety-split!”
Instead of shouting back a string of insults like he wanted to, Jack bit his tongue and instead helped Jarvis maneuver the codebreaker back into her uniform jacket; her arms were nearly boneless and she couldn’t keep her head raised, forced to lean heavily against Jack’s shoulder as they worked to dress her. After fastening the last of the garment’s buttons, they carefully propped her back against a cluster of pipes and she hummed in approval as their warmth seeped through the fabric and fought off the chill brought on by blood loss. “There you go, Specs. Feels better, doesn’t it?” She nodded weakly and Jack didn’t hesitate to rub his hands up and down her arms to generate more warmth. “Dugan’s gonna get us out of here in a jiff, but you’ve just gotta keep your eyes open. Can you do that for me?”
“Keep yelling in my ear, and staying awake’ll be a walk in the park…” (Y/N) tiredly joked. “I always knew flyboys like you were loudmouths.”
Jack rolled his eyes at her teasing but was prevented from retorting by a shout of warning from Dugan; without a moment’s thought, he quickly shielded his partner with his body, carefully tucking her head beneath his chin. A second later, a deafening explosion rocked the building’s very foundations, fragments of concrete rained down from above and dust filled the air as the tremors gradually tapered off, leaving several members of their group coughing up a lung and staggering to their feet but otherwise unharmed, their exit route finally secured.
“Ladies and gents, we’ve got ourselves an exit!” Dugan poked his head around the corner, grinning ear to ear as he brushed debris off his prized bowler hat. “Ready to get the hell out of here?”
“More than ready.” Waving his hand through the cloud of unsettled dust, Daniel stepped forward with an air of authority that immediately drew the others’ attention. “Dugan, you’re in charge of our transportation back to base camp. We might’ve rammed it through a brick wall but the truck’s still in drivable condition, and I saw another one parked near the northwest wall; take our truck and pick up Fieldman and those scientists before heading back to base camp. Stark, you get that Studebaker fired up and come back for us.” Daniel fixed the inventor with a stern look. “And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you not to let that satchel out of your sight.”
“Don’t worry that handsome head of yours, Chief, this satchel’s stickin’ to me like glue!” Howard patted the satchel hanging at his side with a heavy hand, drawing a wince from Daniel and causing Peggy to rub her forehead in exasperation. “C’mon Dugan, I’ll tell you all about the weekend I just spent with Merle Oberon while we walk…”
While the inventor led Dugan away, talking the Howling Commando’s ear off all the while, Daniel turned to quietly address Jarvis. “Jarvis, could you maybe-?”
“Say no more, Chief Sousa,” The butler sighed resignedly and stood, dusting off his trousers and giving them all a strained smile. “I’ll see to it that Mr. Stark remains focused on his task and doesn’t misplace or trigger one of the deadliest chemical weapons in the world.”
Murmured words of thanks and appreciative nods followed Jarvis out of the boiler room, and Daniel turned his attention to Henry. “Zhang, get Sawyer and Pinkerton to Stark’s truck and when we get back to base camp, I want you to help the Howlies start radioing the 1st Infantry Division for an immediate extraction.”
The L.A.P.D. rookie straightened his posture and readily nodded. “Sure thing, Chief!”
Jack smiled to himself while he watched Henry help Sawyer pull Pinkerton to his feet and hobble towards their exit, noting the determined furrow of the young man’s brow as he carried out Daniel’s orders; slowly but surely, Henry Zhang had grown on Jack throughout the investigation into the Secret Empire, proving himself to be a dedicated investigator with more bravery and fortitude than many seasoned SSR agents. The West Coast SSR could definitely use someone like Zhang, Jack thought to himself, making a mental note to discuss his idea with Daniel when they finally returned home.
After the trio departed, the only ones left in the dank, dust-covered boiler room were Jack, (Y/N), Daniel, Peggy and Michael. The chief turned to the Carter siblings, a flash of regret crossing his features as he withdrew a pair of handcuffs from his trouser pocket. “I’m sorry to do this to you, Carter, but-”
“I understand, Chief Sousa.” Michael gave him a defeated smile and held his wrists out. “My conditioning is unpredictable at best and most assuredly a liability to the soldiers and agents under your command. It’s what any smart leader would do, and I expect nothing less from you.”
Peggy stepped in front of her older brother and shook her head. “Daniel, please. Hasn’t he just proven that he’s on our side by killing Attwell and stopping Zodiac from falling into Leviathan’s hands?”
“Peg, c’mon, you know it’s not that simple-”
“Yes, it is!”
While Peggy and Daniel bickered and Michael awkwardly looked on, Jack turned his attention back to (Y/N), his frown deepening as he took in her heavy eyelids and the sweat beginning to bead on her forehead. “How’re you feeling, Specs?”
“Cold…” The codebreaker blinked hard and gave her head a slight shake. “A little dizzy, too. My hands have pins and needles, like they’re falling asleep.”
Without a second thought, Jack scooped her hands up in his and worked on rubbing more warmth into her fingers, her ice-cold touch causing his heart to leap into his throat; logically, he knew that the blood loss was the reason for her lower body temperature and that she wouldn’t regain any warmth until her knife wound was properly treated back at their base camp, but if there was a chance that he could momentarily alleviate her suffering – even the smallest of chances – then he was willing to try anything. “Is that better?”
“A little…” (Y/N) glanced over at the trio standing off to the side and sighed resignedly. “I’m going to bleed out, and the last thing I’ll ever hear is Peggy Carter yelling at a man. Not a bad way to go, actually.”
Jack pressed his lips together, disapproving of his partner’s gallows humor and unimpressed by his friends’ pointless squabbling. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, Specs, not on my watch. Do you think you can stand?” She sluggishly nodded and he clasped her shoulder with a reassuring smile. “We’re gonna get out of here, and we’re gonna do it one step at a time. Just hold onto me, okay? I’ve gotcha, c’mon.” He stood and pressed the tips of his boots directly against hers before grasping her hands tight and pulling her to her feet; the codebreaker’s pained gasp echoed throughout the boiler room, cutting through Peggy and Daniel’s ongoing argument, and her knees buckled almost instantly, forcing Jack to lunge forward and catch her around the waist before she collapsed onto the cold cement. “It’s okay, I’ve gotcha…I’ve gotcha…” The dead weight of his partner caused his own half-healed wounds to ache in protest but he refused to let go of her, holding her securely against him with one arm while his free hand held her cheek, his eyes anxiously flittering across her contorted features while he called out to the others, “Are you mooks just gonna stand there or are you gonna help?”
Peggy flew across the room in an instant and helped Jack support her best friend’s weight while Daniel and Michael followed. The younger woman’s brown eyes, so often filled with steeled determination, shone with apprehension and a hint of fear as she assessed (Y/N)’s weakened condition, and Jack felt an unexpected but not unwelcomed sense of kinship with her; clearly, they both hated nothing more than seeing (Y/N) (Y/L/N) as anything but happy and healthy. “Deep breath in and deep breath out, (Y/N). We’re leaving now and heading back to base camp but if you fall asleep, I shall be very cross with you indeed; you wouldn’t want that, would you?”
(Y/N) choked out a laugh and shook her head. “‘Course not, Peg. I don’t…I’m not sure I can walk, though…”
“I can carry you,” Michael immediately offered.
Jack instinctively held the codebreaker closer, still distrustful of the brainwashed SOE agent even after he’d saved all of their lives and perhaps even a little possessive of the woman he secretly loved. “I’ve got her, Carter.”
“Forgive me, Chief Thompson, but you’re still experiencing the lingering effects of torture; there’s a likely chance that you’ll only injure yourself further if you attempt to carry Agent (Y/L/N) to the truck.” Michael spoke calmly, his matter-of-fact tone and the earnestness shining in his brown eyes making it difficult to argue against him. “You can handcuff me the moment she’s safely in the truck but please, I only wish to be of assistance. It’s the very least I can do after everything I’ve done, unwillingly or not.”
Glancing down, Jack’s eyes met (Y/N)’s and she gave him a barely perceptible nod, her unspoken reassurance softening his resolve and compelling him to usher Michael forward. “It’s all right, Agent (Y/L/N), just hold onto me.” The older man guided her hands around his neck and Jack reluctantly took a step back to allow him space to lift her into his arms; the codebreaker immediately burrowed her face in Michael’s shoulder, her muffled cry of pain causing Daniel to flinch and Jack’s fingernails to dig into the palms of his hands. Once she was comfortably situated in his arms, Michael looked over at the trio expectantly and nodded towards their exit route. “Shall we?”
Daniel stepped aside and allowed Michael to lead the way. Before Jack could join them, the chief wrapped a hand around his arm and forced him to walk behind the eldest Carter and his wounded partner. “We all served during the war, so we all know that (Y/N)’s gonna need a blood transfusion and fast. Do either of you know her blood type?”
Peggy nodded, but her downturned lips caused Jack’s heart to sink. “AB.”
“What’s the Rh?”
“Negative.”
The chief froze while Jack swore under his breath. “You’re sure?”
“While we were at Bletchley, a mobile bleeding unit would routinely make the rounds and we’d all donate blood to be sent to the front lines and later, the hospitals in London during the Blitz,” Peggy quietly explained as the three of them ducked through the hole that Dugan had blown through the wall. “The phlebotomists were thrilled to discover that (Y/N) possessed Type AB-negative blood.”
Jack ran a frazzled hand through his hair and fought to reign his emotions in. “Goddammit, she just had to go and have the rarest blood type on Earth, didn’t she? I’m B-positive; I take it you two aren’t compatible either?”
“I’m A-positive,” Daniel admitted.
“A-positive as well, I’m afraid.” Peggy reached for Jack’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Statistically speaking, there has to be at least one person amongst our troop who possesses a negative Rh. (Y/N) will receive that blood transfusion and she’ll be back on her feet in no time at all.”
Jack threw the younger woman a grateful look before following after Michael. Trudging through the thick layer of snow that surrounded the building, he tried his hardest to hold onto the hope that Peggy had given him, but the panic he’d been staving off since the moment Attwell stabbed (Y/N) was beginning to overwhelm him; he’d only recently come to realization that he was in love with her, and now he was faced with the very real possibility that he could lose her before he’d ever come clean to her about his feelings. You and I haven’t seen eye to eye for a while, but (Y/N) could really use a miracle right about now, Jack silently prayed to the heavens as he swallowed the lump in his throat and stared helplessly at his partner ahead of him, I can’t lose her.
When their commandeered truck rounded the corner, Jack picked up his pace and jogged past Michael and (Y/N), flinging open the passenger door before the truck rolled to a complete stop and waving the eldest Carter forward to carefully place (Y/N) in the cab. He circled the front of the truck and opened the driver’s side door to face a surprised Jarvis, who gave the steering wheel a pat. “It’s quite all right, Chief Thompson, I am quite confident behind the wheel of a Studebaker US6…” The look on Jack’s face caused the butler to trail off and awkwardly slide out of the cab with an uncomfortable chuckle. “But I suppose a break from driving would be agreeable. I’ll just, ah, go and see if Miss Carter requires any assistance!”
Jarvis scurried away to the back of the transport truck and Jack climbed into the cab, grunting in irritation when he realized that Howard was seated between him and (Y/N). “Stark.”
“Our codebreaking friend here’s not looking so hot, Chief.”
“Howard, didn’t your mother ever teach you not to comment on a woman’s appearance?” (Y/N) jokingly scolded as she rested her head against the window. “I clearly need a blood transfusion.”
A loud thump on the wall of the cab prompted Jack to switch on the ignition and slam his foot down on the clutch pedal; the engine roared to life and after Jack shifted into first gear, the truck rolled forward and through the snow-covered trees to the cleared path through the forest. “We’re gonna have to ask the Howlies and those scientists if any of ‘em have Rh-negative blood.” Jack shifted gears as he steered the transport truck down the beaten path and sped up. “Don’t worry, Specs, we’re gonna get you that blood transfusion as soon as we get to base camp; it’s more than a given that one of ‘em’s compatible with you and if not…then we’ll figure it out, okay? I promise, everything’s gonna be fine.”
Howard tilted his head in confusion. “Why go to all that trouble when I could donate some blood for a worthy cause?”
Jack’s neck audibly cracked with how quickly he turned his head to face the inventor seated beside him. “You’ve got Rh-negative blood?”
“O-negative, as a matter of fact.” Howard smirked proudly. “I’m a universal donor.”
Looking past Howard, Jack’s eyes met (Y/N)’s and a wave of relief washed over him, causing him to break out into a wide grin as he turned his gaze to the inventor. “Stark, I could kiss you right now.”
Howard chuckled. “Careful, Chief, or you’ll make poor Merle jealous.”
While Howard guffawed at his own joke, (Y/N) snorted in amusement and settled against the back of her seat, but not before giving Jack a small smile that sent his heart reeling. And it was there, in the cab of a battle-worn Studebaker US6, separated by their exasperating but somehow endearing friend, that Jack decided he wouldn’t waste any more time trying to deny his feelings for his partner. When we’re back home, I’m going to tell her, Jack vowed to himself as he stared out of the windshield with a lighthearted grin, I’ll take her out for a night on the town and when the moment’s right, I’ll tell her that I’m in love with her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: If anyone's ever seen The Greatest Show on Earth (1952), then you'll know what the blood transfusion bit was inspired by (and if you haven't seen it then you totally should, it's very fun!). I also did waaay too much research into blood transfusions and wartime blood donations for this one-shot lol if you're interested in learning a little more about it, I'll link an article below! 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
Blood on the Battlefield: How WWII Revolutionized Transfusion Medicine
“Tales From The SSR” Masterlist
“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist
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