A/N this one is for KitsyKatsy, a Cartson lover, per request. Hope it lives up to your expectations. Do I think Thompson is a jerk at heart? No. He's just a flawed man who thinks he's not good enough.

Tell the Truth

Stupid windbag, Thompson said to himself irritably after he saw the senator promptly out of the SSR office after the minimum required chitchat. He was in no mood to schmooze or kiss ass with some politician. Jack just threw his best agent under the proverbial bus and lied about his achievements… again. His integrity took another hit and lay bleeding to death somewhere in the back of his mind with the other skeletons in his closet. Most of those were Japanese.

Agents parted in his wake like he was a tsunami, a bit of fear (or was it disgust?) in their expression. They knew the truth. Just moments ago, all the men gave Carter a round of applause for her work. The sound echoed like a gong in Thompson's head reminding him again he was a fraud. Sousa glared furiously at him as he passed. Peggy's hand was on his shoulder as if only her touch was saving Jack's life from Daniel's rage. Walking past, head held high with an air of indifference he went toward "his" office. In actuality, he could not have been farthest from caring less. In fact, he cared too much and that was his problem.

What have you done now, he thought angrily behind flinty blue eyes trying to block out the animosity in the office, Lied again. Made up stories of your own grandeur. You're actually starting to believe this crap. And out there is the real hero… heroine. You are a coward. Chief Dooley's name was still hand stenciled in bright gold enamel with the black shadowing and the SSR eagle. Thompson vaguely recalled had seen a note that the glass man would have the new pane in place by the end of the week with Thompson's name instead. The promotion, courtesy of his (Carter's) work. Bile rose in the back of his throat.

Closing the door, he locked it behind him, pulled the shade down, and closed the blinds until the only one open was the exterior window facing the office building across the street. No Leviathan snipers threatened now, but Jack thought for a moment it would be so easy to pass this torch and be free of his shame if Dottie was there once again.

Instead, he threw himself down at the empty desk. It was cleaned off just the other day when Roger's widow came to collect his personal belongings. Jack gave the usual condolences but had a hard time meeting the red-rimmed eyes of Mrs. Dooley. There were knives of blame flying from them into his soul. Steepling his fingers over the bridge of his nose, he felt the guilt and a headache set in for the long haul. He wished Dooley's bottle of scotch was in that desk drawer, but he knew it was gone because he drank it days ago.

Who was he? A liar. A fraud. A fool. Why can't I just tell the truth? Why can't I let go and be the person Peggy and this agency deserves?

Gazing out at the building next door, the sun streamed in from the beautiful spring day it was in New York. Pigeons wheeled carefree in the breezes between the buildings. In Thompson's mind, the sky was black and ominous, storms threatening. He couldn't bring himself to smile.

"Peggy, the you can't change the world. You're a woman and this is the natural order of things. You can't change that." He had said to her with liquor on his breath in the interrogation room. If he kept her from looking too hard at him because she was too angry with him, she wouldn't see his falsehoods.

"I'm gonna miss her." He quipped to Dooley thinking he won the argument about going to Russia. In his heart, he thought he could keep floating on his false bravado and maybe make a real reason for that silver star.

"Where'd you get that lead?" he asked Sousa. When he got a noncommittal answer, it made his "accomplishments" tarnish in his heart.

"SNAP OUT OF IT!" she had yelled at him in Russia when he froze, shell-shocked. Real leaders don't lose themselves in combat. Right, he wasn't a real leader, just a butcher.

Sitting on that airplane, for the first time, he came clean and it was like a rebirth. Peggy was so good, so right… so Steve Rogers that it made telling his sins to her so easy without fear of retribution. But why couldn't he keep telling the truth?

A knock interrupted his self-flagellation. He wanted the person to go away. He wanted his command and responsibilities to go away. The knock came again.

With a heavy sigh, he stood up from the desk and went to the door, unlocking it.

Peggy stood on the other side. A horrified look flashed over his face as he attempted, instinctually, to close the door. She stuck a foot in the jam and said very quietly, "Unless you want to make a scene, I suggest, Chief Thompson, you let me in." Her eyes were steel.

Silently, he allowed her in, closing the door rapidly, just barely catching a glimpse of Daniel scowling at him over Carter's shoulder. It was a warning.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He could feel tears prickling his eyes. Wiping his hand across his nose in nervousness he waited for the verbal lashing he was about to deservedly receive.

Carter stood near the window, hands folded before her and expression softened slightly. "I understand the motivation for your actions with the senators."

"Maggs… I'm so, so…. Sorry." Without meeting her eyes the words fell from his lips like lead balloons and seemed so deficient for what he wanted to say. His gaze bored holes into the floor. He should be able to see the accounting department downstairs from them by now.

"I'm not here to crucify you. I'm here as a friend. It appears you could need one." She stepped away from the window and approached him, making his head snap up as he wondered if she was going to deck him out cold again.

"I'm a thug. Ruthless. I… just keep hurting people Like you." he admitted. "And I need to stop. But …I can't, Peggy. I keep lying."

Peggy actually smiled lightly and reached out to take Jack's hand in hers. She was surprised how cold his was. Both of them looked down at their shared grasp and then up at each other. Carter saw the confusion in his expression. "Jack, I understand. You actually said it so well before: 'This is a man's world.'" Thompson visibly winced, "No. You are right." A frown lightly creased her forehead, " But you now know me and my skills, although it took you long enough you stubborn, misogynist fool." Jack didn't know if he should laugh at comment that or cry because it was delivered so politely. It was glaringly true.

"What are my other options besides work here, Jack? Be a real telephone operator or a housewife? I rather be here at the SSR being useful and making sure groups like Leviathan never occur again. I realize I can't get the credit. But I'll share my successes if we get to work together."

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze to drive home her point, "We need each other, Jack. The SSR; we are family united in a common cause. I know you and if we work together, you can rid yourself of your guilt and become that better man. Even if I have to hold your hand through the process."

Jack was speechless for several moments caught between enjoying holding her hand and processing what great second chance she just gave him. Swallowing several times, he finally found his voice, "Peggy Carter, I don't deserve you."

Peggy smiled a heart-stopping smile, pulling her hand away from his and went to the door, "Of course you don't. I'm a woman. And by the way, it's Agent."

Jack watched her open the door, "Yes ma'am. It sure is."

Peggy smartly stepped through, closing it behind her leaving Thompson to ponder his options. Suddenly the air felt warmer, the spring air fresher and Jack Thompson saw his redemption sitting just outside his office. From now on, he was going to tell the truth.