Five hours later, they were finally allowed to see Jack. All three of them were tired. No one became an agent just to sit around. Unfortunately, none of them could come up with any leads to pursue, and without admitting it, they were all too worried about Jack to leave the hospital.
Jack was pale from the blood loss, but the surgery had been a success. The doctors had called him 'one hell of a stubborn bastard', which they could only confirm.
"Okay, it's getting late," Daniel said, after they had all been standing by the footboard of Jack's bed for too long, "We should probably establish a roster, Peggy take the first shift, then I will come in at midnight, and O'Neill will come in at six in the morning. Understood?"
With that, O'Neill wished them a good night and left them alone in the room, besides the sleeping Jack. Daniel stayed back, and as soon as O'Neill's steps were out of hearing range, he asked; "Are you okay?"
Peggy gave him a weak smile and stepped closer to him, which he took advantage of by closing his arms around her, enjoying how she for a small moment let herself show a bit of weakness. Even though it was not real weakness, but that was how she would perceive it. It was being human, and even though she acted like an amazon, that was all she was.
Peggy pulled back, holding his arms to keep a distance; "I'm okay, and so will Jack be. Now go home and get some rest. I want you fresh and awake at midnight."
Not missing the implications of her words, both smiles shyly at each other. Daniel quickly glanced at Jack, knowing he would not have left a comment like that hanging. Daniel on the other hand quickly changed the subject.
"What about you, where will you be staying?" He asked.
"Oh… Well, I guess I better call Mr. Jarvis," She reasoned and gestured at the phone in the room.
"Yes, of course," Daniel answered, "Well, then have a good watch."
Daniel gave her a small kiss, immediately regretting it, as it only left him wanting more. But not now. Instead he left her, slightly worried something would happen, though confident that she would be able to handle everything coming at her.
As soon as Daniel left the room, Peggy dropped down in the chair next to the telephone. It had been a rollercoaster of a day. She had gone from feeling cold and collected on her way home to New York, to feeling light and fluffy on Daniel's lap, from the bucket of ice that the news about Jack had been, and back to calm and collected as the agent that she had to be on this case. Yet her concern for Jack made being calm and collected difficult. Not having anything to do, anything to hit, made dealing with all the different feelings difficult.
At least now she could make a phone call, a small action that was better than no action.
She smiled as she heard the familiar voice of her friend.
"Hello, Mr. Jarvis."
"Ah, Miss Carter. Have you returned safely to New York?"
"Not quite, Mr. Jarvis. I am still in Los Angeles. There has been an incident that has required me to stay."
"Oh, a certain Mr. Sousa, perhaps?" Mr. Jarvis guessed and she could hear the smug smile in his voice.
"No… Well, yes, but no. Chief Thompson has been hurt. I am currently in the hospital keeping an eye on him."
"Oh my, is he alright?"
"He will be," She said with certainty, "However, I will need a place to stay until we have solved this case."
"Your room will be awaiting you, Miss Carter," Mr. Jarvis said quickly, "Do you need anything at the hospital?"
"No, I will be okay for tonight. However, my suitcases are still at the office."
"No trouble, when are you done at the hospital?"
"At midnight."
"Good, I will come pick you up and we will swing by the office and pick up your suitcases."
"Thank you, Mr. Jarvis," Peggy smiled into the handset.
"Anytime, Miss Carter. Ana will be thrilled to have you back," Mr. Jarvis answered sincerely, "See you at midnight, Miss Carter."
They hung up, and the room became silent. She looked out the window, the sun still shining brightly. It felt like a whole day should had passed already, yet it still had eight hours to go. Maybe she should have asked Mr. Jarvis to bring a book to the hospital, but she did not want to inconvenient him. She also doubted how much she would read with everything going on in her head.
She looked towards Jack. She thought he looked a bit better, maybe a bit more colour in his cheeks. Maybe she was just being hopeful.
Maybe she should have asked Daniel to stay, though it would have been a bit weird being with Daniel in front of Jack, unconscious or not. It was probably a good idea to move slowly forward. There was no doubt some build up tension between them but she had just had Dr Wilkes in her life as well, however briefly, and though that door was closed, it still felt weird jumping so quickly from one to the other. Especially since there had been no one in the picture since Steve. Hell, no one had even gotten close to the wall that the picture was hanging on. The thought made her both happy and sad. She had said her goodbyes to Steve and now she was walking the walk, and it felt good.
Peggy sat there for yet another couple of hours. The cookie-baking nurse came with more coffee and cookies, and Peggy appreciated the renewed energy though she could not wait to have one of Mr. Jarvis's excellent cups of English tea.
The sky was making the transition from orange to blue, and she only had another three hours of the shift, when she finally heard a sound from the bed. She jolted from the chair and stood by the side of the bed.
"Jack?" she asked, but he stayed quiet. He had probably just been dreaming, "Jack, pull yourself together. You cannot just lay there and do nothing. You have an office to run, dammit."
She stood there for a bit longer, hoping that a bit of insults could get him going, but still nothing. She went back to the chair, but decided to pull it closer to the bed, hoping to hear if he were to say anything more during his sleep, maybe something about the assailant.
The nurse came and went again, this time also bringing a newspaper for entertainment. Maybe Peggy should just ask her if she could make tea instead of the bitter coffee. However, two hours to go, tea could wait. She started reading through the paper, finding an article regarding the rumour of Whitney Frost being in an asylum and the many theories as to why she was there, the main theory being the death of her husband having driven her mad with grief.
"Is this how you spend your holidays?" a ruff voice asked, and Peggy jolted up to look at a very tired Jack Thompson, yet his smirk weakly in place.
"Oh no, you owe me for looking after your lazy rear," she replied with a smile, feeling relief stream through her, "How are you feeling?"
"Like morphine is a guy's best friend," he answered, coughing lightly but quickly stopping as it obviously hurt him. Peggy quickly grabbed the glass of water and helped him drinking from it.
"Thanks," he answered, his voice already better, and she smiled in answer.
"I will go get the doctor so he can check on you, but I need to know who did this, Jack. Do you remember?" She asked.
Jack sighed, lifting his hand to scratch as his chest, though quickly changing his mind when he thought it through and instead rubbing his temples.
"Erhm… It was a guy. Nice suit. Never seen him before," he answered.
Peggy tried not to hide her disappoint and instead tried to make him remember more; "Did he say anything or take anything?"
"No. He didn't say anything. And I think I blacked out before I hit the floor. Nothing was missing from my stuff?" he asked.
"Not as far as I could tell," And then an idea dawned upon her, "But I will pick up all your things tomorrow and then you can take a look for yourself."
"Good," He just answered.
He looked her in the eye, still with a smirk but sadder than when he had just woken up.
"Didn't think I would be seeing the light of day again," He admitted quietly. He and Peggy had a certain confidence after the trip to Russia, so it felt natural to tell her, "You know, the stuff they say about your life flashing before your eyes. I only remember thinking something like; 'Please, not now'."
He kept her gaze and she smiled at him. She knew exactly what he meant.
"It's not now, Jack," She said still smiling, "Weeds do not perish that easily."