A Moment Between
Title: A Moment Between
Fandom: Agent Carter
Link: On AO3
Pairing: Peggy/Daniel; pre-Peggy/Jack/Daniel
Rating: Teen
Warnings: None
Other tags: Hurt/comfort, Rescue, Head injuries, Overheard conversations, Love confessions (sort of)
Summary: Peggy and Jack rescue Daniel, and have half of a conversation during the car ride back. For a tumblr prompt.
*
“Can you-” Peggy broke off with a grunt, a muffled curse, a stumble that jostled the surface Daniel was lying on. A stretcher, if an improvised one. Something flat and moving. Scratchy warm material pressed down on him, but his bare foot was burning with cold.
Just for a moment, before it steadied. A warm hand on his forehead, briefly. “Yeah. Sorry.” That was Jack’s voice. There was… there was no context for that. Jack was supposed to be in D.C., thousands of miles away. “He’s freezing.”
“I know,” Peggy said tightly. “We need to hurry.”
“Peggy,” Daniel managed, but it came out slurry and strange, the vowels distorted, the consonants too soft. There was a sharp intake of breath, and then Peggy’s hands. He would have known them anywhere.
He couldn’t feel Jack’s touch at all.
“Darling,” Peggy said, and then there was the press of cool lips at his forehead. “I’m so sorry. We have to move.”
The surface beneath him jostled again, and the world spun away like a loose projector reel, fragmenting into darkness.
*
He came awake again with his head resting on something warm, fingers carding through his hair and rolling movement beneath him. A car. He was in the backseat of a car, and he had no idea how he’d gotten there. Lights slipped by in the darkness, and then Jack said quietly from the front seat, “How is he?”
“Breathing,” Peggy said from above him. Her cool fingers slid back into his hair, prodding gently at his scalp. It hurt, but it was a distant, far-off thing, like the roiling nausea in his gut and the ice-burning prickles of pain in his fingers and toes. “I’m fairly sure he’s going to have some frostbite in his toes, at least.”
Jack swore softly. “How long was he out there, do you think?”
“I don’t know.”
“After we get him back to the base hospital, I’m going back to that damn bunker and-”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Peggy said, a bit of snap in her voice for the first time. “When he wakes up, he’ll need us there.”
“You, maybe, but-”
“Both of us,” she said firmly. There was silence for several minutes, nothing but the whisper of the wind, the sound of the road beneath the tires. Floating in a dreamlike state that wasn’t quite consciousness, Daniel cast his mind back, trying to remember what had happened to put him here. There had been the briefing on their targets, a late rushed dinner with Peggy, all the time together that they could manage before he-
--what? Before he what?
It was all a jumbled blank. The next thing he remembered was stumbling barefoot through the snow, dragging his damaged prosthetic behind him. Then warm hands, Jack’s voice, and Peggy’s. And now this.
Head injury, he thought vaguely, as Peggy’s fingers found a particularly painful spot on his scalp. That would explain… this. Some of this.
There was a soft noise from the front seat, and then Jack said, all in a rush, “If we hadn’t gotten to him in time…”
“We did,” Peggy said firmly. “You did. Jack, he’s going to be alright.”
“I know,” Jack snapped. Then sighed. “Sorry, Carter. Peggy. I’m sorry. I just.”
“You were worried about him. We both were.”
“Yeah.”
The quiet stretched out for another dim, uncountable time, then Peggy sighed and said, “Are we ever going to talk about this?”
“About what?” Jack asked tightly.
“Don’t play the fool, Jack. You love him.”
There was a silence, then Jack said roughly, “What the hell are you-”
“Jack.” Her voice was low and firm; her fingers had stopped moving, pressed against Daniel’s temple. He fancied he could feel the pulse of her blood through them, although that might have just been his own throbbing headache.
Distantly, he thought he should probably move, say something, let them know that he was conscious, but his brain seemed disconnected from his body, which felt thick and chilled and sore. And the part of him that could have pushed through that was frozen, afraid to break this soap-bubble moment between them. He hadn’t thought--he and Peggy had always hinted around Jack, the possibility of it, of him, of the three of them, but they’d never exactly talked about it in so many words--
From the front seat, there was a sound of a hand smacking something, and Jack muttered, “Shit.” And then, slightly louder, “Sorry.”
“That’s quite alright,” Peggy said, gentle.
“I can’t do this now, okay? Not when he’s-”
“I understand.”
“It’s not just him,” Jack said, low. It was like the words were being dragged out of him. “You know that, right?”
“I,” Peggy said, and she sounded off-balance, just slightly. His Peggy. Always so wrong-footed at any sign of romantic pursuit, even if it came in the form of Jack’s oblique, grudging admission. “I had thought perhaps--but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to presume.”
A breath of laughter, and then Jack said, “You’re something else, Peggy.”
“I take that as a compliment.”
“You should.”
“We’ll talk about this,” Peggy said firmly, after a silence that was shorter and less tense than the one before it. “Later. When Daniel can join the conversation properly.”
Yeah, Daniel agreed, letting his grip on consciousness slip, sinking down into comfortable darkness. Yeah, they definitely would.
Fandom: Agent Carter
Link: On AO3
Pairing: Peggy/Daniel; pre-Peggy/Jack/Daniel
Rating: Teen
Warnings: None
Other tags: Hurt/comfort, Rescue, Head injuries, Overheard conversations, Love confessions (sort of)
Summary: Peggy and Jack rescue Daniel, and have half of a conversation during the car ride back. For a tumblr prompt.
*
“Can you-” Peggy broke off with a grunt, a muffled curse, a stumble that jostled the surface Daniel was lying on. A stretcher, if an improvised one. Something flat and moving. Scratchy warm material pressed down on him, but his bare foot was burning with cold.
Just for a moment, before it steadied. A warm hand on his forehead, briefly. “Yeah. Sorry.” That was Jack’s voice. There was… there was no context for that. Jack was supposed to be in D.C., thousands of miles away. “He’s freezing.”
“I know,” Peggy said tightly. “We need to hurry.”
“Peggy,” Daniel managed, but it came out slurry and strange, the vowels distorted, the consonants too soft. There was a sharp intake of breath, and then Peggy’s hands. He would have known them anywhere.
He couldn’t feel Jack’s touch at all.
“Darling,” Peggy said, and then there was the press of cool lips at his forehead. “I’m so sorry. We have to move.”
The surface beneath him jostled again, and the world spun away like a loose projector reel, fragmenting into darkness.
*
He came awake again with his head resting on something warm, fingers carding through his hair and rolling movement beneath him. A car. He was in the backseat of a car, and he had no idea how he’d gotten there. Lights slipped by in the darkness, and then Jack said quietly from the front seat, “How is he?”
“Breathing,” Peggy said from above him. Her cool fingers slid back into his hair, prodding gently at his scalp. It hurt, but it was a distant, far-off thing, like the roiling nausea in his gut and the ice-burning prickles of pain in his fingers and toes. “I’m fairly sure he’s going to have some frostbite in his toes, at least.”
Jack swore softly. “How long was he out there, do you think?”
“I don’t know.”
“After we get him back to the base hospital, I’m going back to that damn bunker and-”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Peggy said, a bit of snap in her voice for the first time. “When he wakes up, he’ll need us there.”
“You, maybe, but-”
“Both of us,” she said firmly. There was silence for several minutes, nothing but the whisper of the wind, the sound of the road beneath the tires. Floating in a dreamlike state that wasn’t quite consciousness, Daniel cast his mind back, trying to remember what had happened to put him here. There had been the briefing on their targets, a late rushed dinner with Peggy, all the time together that they could manage before he-
--what? Before he what?
It was all a jumbled blank. The next thing he remembered was stumbling barefoot through the snow, dragging his damaged prosthetic behind him. Then warm hands, Jack’s voice, and Peggy’s. And now this.
Head injury, he thought vaguely, as Peggy’s fingers found a particularly painful spot on his scalp. That would explain… this. Some of this.
There was a soft noise from the front seat, and then Jack said, all in a rush, “If we hadn’t gotten to him in time…”
“We did,” Peggy said firmly. “You did. Jack, he’s going to be alright.”
“I know,” Jack snapped. Then sighed. “Sorry, Carter. Peggy. I’m sorry. I just.”
“You were worried about him. We both were.”
“Yeah.”
The quiet stretched out for another dim, uncountable time, then Peggy sighed and said, “Are we ever going to talk about this?”
“About what?” Jack asked tightly.
“Don’t play the fool, Jack. You love him.”
There was a silence, then Jack said roughly, “What the hell are you-”
“Jack.” Her voice was low and firm; her fingers had stopped moving, pressed against Daniel’s temple. He fancied he could feel the pulse of her blood through them, although that might have just been his own throbbing headache.
Distantly, he thought he should probably move, say something, let them know that he was conscious, but his brain seemed disconnected from his body, which felt thick and chilled and sore. And the part of him that could have pushed through that was frozen, afraid to break this soap-bubble moment between them. He hadn’t thought--he and Peggy had always hinted around Jack, the possibility of it, of him, of the three of them, but they’d never exactly talked about it in so many words--
From the front seat, there was a sound of a hand smacking something, and Jack muttered, “Shit.” And then, slightly louder, “Sorry.”
“That’s quite alright,” Peggy said, gentle.
“I can’t do this now, okay? Not when he’s-”
“I understand.”
“It’s not just him,” Jack said, low. It was like the words were being dragged out of him. “You know that, right?”
“I,” Peggy said, and she sounded off-balance, just slightly. His Peggy. Always so wrong-footed at any sign of romantic pursuit, even if it came in the form of Jack’s oblique, grudging admission. “I had thought perhaps--but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to presume.”
A breath of laughter, and then Jack said, “You’re something else, Peggy.”
“I take that as a compliment.”
“You should.”
“We’ll talk about this,” Peggy said firmly, after a silence that was shorter and less tense than the one before it. “Later. When Daniel can join the conversation properly.”
Yeah, Daniel agreed, letting his grip on consciousness slip, sinking down into comfortable darkness. Yeah, they definitely would.