I own nothing and will make no money from this work of fiction. Once again, I have borrowed not only the characters, but a bit of the plot and actual dialogue from Episode 8: Valediction. Then, I expanded the scene to allow Peggy and Daniel to briefly address some of their issues. (Because, in all seriousness, they must have had some kind of conversation prior to being friends again.)

"Jack," Peggy Carter called Thompson's name quietly from the doorway. He looked up, dragging his attention away from the man restrained in the bed. "My turn. I'll spell you for a bit."

He nodded and rose from his seat. He moved like a man twice his age; stiff and slow. "He's been coughing on and off, but he hasn't woken up at all."

"The doctor thinks he'll be coming around soon." Peggy told him. "If he wakes, if he's up for it, I'll bring him to the briefing."

Jack nodded again. He looked as if he was going to say something else, but only shook his head and left the room. Peggy sat for a moment, regarding Daniel's still form. She frowned as he started coughing - a dry, desperate sound that seemed to go on and on without bringing any relief. Moments later, the coughing fit ended, and he lay still, his face etched in a faint grimace.

Too agitated to sit, Peggy stood and slowly began to pace the room. She would pause to gaze out the window, not really seeing the cityscape before her. Then she would turn and complete a slow tour of the room, ending back a the window, looking out, but not seeing.

She made five such circuits of the room and was at the window when she heard Daniel's cough again. It was a relief to see, when she turned back to him, that he was sitting up, his eyes open as he gasped for air.

"Carter," he rasped. "What the hell is going on?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing." She tried to ignore the giddy feeling of joy that surged in her now that Daniel seemed to have regained his senses, and sat down in the chair next to his bed. "How are you feeling?"

Daniel briefly considered the question. He supposed he couldn't answer 'the better for seeing you.' Instead he admitted, "like I swallowed a bag of shrapnel." With confusion he considered the restraints on his wrists and ankles. "What's with this?"

"Do you remember anything that happened inside the movie theater?" Carter asked, trying to prompt his memory to fill in the gaps.

He tried to bring his last strong memory into focus. "There was some kind of gas." Then there had been pain, burning through his sinuses, scorching his throat, igniting his lungs.

Peggy nodded encouragingly. "You found the canister. And," her eyes slid away briefly. "You attacked Agent Thompson." The viciousness of the attack had been shocking…terrifying…simply by virtue of how out of character it was for Daniel.

He groaned softly. The news was unexpected, and his first thought was, I will never live this down. He flopped his head back on the pillow and tried to remember. Her words triggered a cascade of images. Thompson's face and…rage. "I wanted to kill him." The force of the memory stunned him. Thompson had been in front of him and Daniel simply saw red, for lack of a better description. Even now, Daniel could recall how it felt to have his hands wrapped around Jack's throat and the absolute, blinding rage. "I wanted to kill everybody." His voice was soft with wonder as he remembered it. He had never felt such passionate hatred, such a desire for destruction.

He looked at Peggy, and suddenly another image presented itself. "Oh, god, Peggy!" He stared hard into her face. "I hit you?" He willed her to tell him that it wasn't true. "I am so sorry."

She shook her head. "You weren't yourself." Indeed, her eyes held no hint of blame and she offered him a tiny smile of reassurance. "How are you now?" She asked kindly.

Even through the shame, Sousa felt his spirits lift slightly under her warmth. "I still want to kill Thompson," he admitted. "But no more than usual." They both chuckled at his feeble joke.

"Well, then," Peggy said briskly. "Let's get you out of these." She indicated the restraints. Deftly, she freed his right hand. Before she could turn her attention to his ankles, he grasped her hand.

"Peggy, I am sorry." He insisted.

Although she tilted her head in confusion, her voice was firm when she replied. "For hitting me? Daniel, I told you."

"No," he interrupted. "Not for hitting you. I mean," he huffed out a sigh. "I mean, I'm sorry for earlier." His face twisted as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "I'm sorry for not finding a different way to handle the evidence I gathered about you, about your activities."

Peggy gently pulled her hand away, patting his hand gently before she turned her attention to freeing his left arm. "You did your job, Daniel. You did your job and you did it well." She lifted her face to meet his gaze. "You are a formidable agent, and I," now it was her turn to search for words. "I am so sorry that I couldn't bring myself to come to you, to ask for help."

"Why didn't you, Peggy?" The question had tortured him since he first made the startling and unwelcome realization of how deeply Carter was involved in their case against Stark.

Drawing in a deep breath, she tried to arrange her thoughts coherently. "I know Howard," she started. "I worked with him throughout the war. He is," she gave a dry chuckle, "an annoying little cretin." She couldn't control the fond smile that quirked her lips. "A complete wanker." Her eyes brightened, inviting Sousa to see the humor. "But, he is…the brother of my heart." This was hard to admit - that as crazy as Howard made her, however irritating he was - she loved him, no matter how many times she had to restrain herself from decking him. "When I first started my investigation, I wasn't sure of his innocence, but I felt that I could be more impartial than a majority of the agents at the SSR. Then, as I dug deeper, I could see how much more there was to the story. Daniel," Peggy held his hand in both of hers, running her thumbs gently over his knuckles. "I'm sorry I didn't have the courage to come to you." Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. "I don't regret helping Howard, but losing your friendship…that was…." Carter stopped and collected herself. "Hard. Losing your friendship was hard and the worst was knowing that my choices had led to it."

"Peggy," Daniel tightened his hand around her fingers. "If you can forgive me for being an ass, I can forgive you for going it alone." Her shoulders lifted as she sighed softly and smiled mistily at him. "But," he warned, "Don't do it again."

"A pact then," she suggested drily. "We both agree to involve the other when conducting our own treasonous investigations."

"Done." He squeezed her hand again. "Friends?"

"Yes," she smiled. "Friends." Her smile turned into a playful smirk. "One might even use the word 'pals.'"

That she could reference his interrogation of her with humor warmed his heart. But, there was no time for that. Briskly, Peggy stood and moved to the end of the bed to release the buckles around his ankles. "Why don't you go and freshen up. There is a briefing starting in," she glanced at her watch, "seven minutes. I'll wait for you in the hallway."

She was out the door before he could reply. Grinning - and feeling undeservedly optimistic - Daniel made himself presentable; ready to go out and face the monsters again.