Chapter Text
Jack Thompson was 62 years old when he died. After deciding to never marry, Jack became closer to the children in his apartment building. “The man in 204” changed to “Mr. Thompson,” who quickly became “Uncle Jack.” The previously silent man treated the young children as if they were his own, surprising the parents. The older children would come into Jack’s apartment to make brownies for the younger children. His door stayed open through he day with the help of a large rock, decorated by a young girl who had grown up and gone off to college.
Even though he never married and never had kids, he did have a family. It was a very big family, and people would often forget the names of others. Uncle Jack told stories about some of his old friends, especially a Mr. Daniel. From what the children heard, Mr. Daniel was Uncle Jack’s best friend before he died. Uncle Jack told the children it was TB, and the children never pried, especially since many had lost friends or family to tuberculosis.
Uncle Jack did not have many visitors outside of those in the building, but occasionally a British brunette would stop by, and she always brought extra tea and biscuits. If you asked who she was, Uncle Jack would smile, and reply,
“That there is Peggy Carter, and she’s the best lady you’ll ever meet.”
The mysterious Peggy Carter showed up to the funeral, along with a man named Edwin Jarvis. Everyone from the apartment had chipped in to cover the expenses, but found they we’re already taken care of by a Howard Krats. No one spotted a Howard Krats at the funeral, so the assumption was made that his job paid the expenses (In a way, I suppose it did). After the funeral, a young boy saw two men walking away from Uncle Jack’s coffin. One of the men had a shorter frame with brown hair, and the other…the other looked like Uncle Jack, but much younger. Maybe that’s Mr. Daniel and he’s taking Uncle Jack home. When Jack and Daniel saw him, they waved, and he energetically waved back.
“Phillip!” His mother called. “Who are you waving to?”
“Uncle Jack.”
Phil’s mother sighed. “Let’s go home, Phil.”
“Ok Momma.” The young boy replied. When he turned around, Uncle Jack and his friend were gone. I hope he’s happy now.. Phil thought. As the little boy climbed into the backseat of the car, he smiled to himself. Maybe I can find a Mr. Daniel like Uncle Jack did. Then I can be happy too.