After the War

5

I sat in a small room, strapped to a lie detector. I was in the final part of my police academy test. If I met all the requirements, I could become a cop.

"Okay, it's time for the last part of your test" a detective said when he came into the room "State your full name".

"Will Rogers".

"Do you have a middle name" the detective questioned.

"No" I lied. I guess I had a middle name, but I was never going to use the name Ragnarok again. I'd spent months figuring out how to say stuff to beat lie detectors.

"Have you ever broken the law".

"Not that I know of" I lied again. I had broken the law so many times in my life.  First there was me technically not existing, then there was the war, and then I did a lot of illegal stuff for SHIELD.

"Have you ever hurt anyone or have you ever been hurt by anyone".

"Yes, to both. I've been shot, and I may have broken my brother's nose" that time I didn't lie.

"Who shot you".

"A terrorist in DC, and then my uncle shot me in Russia. I was thirteen both times I was shot".

"You sound tough, I like that" the detective stated "Tell me about your family".

"I was adopted by a German family, and they weren't very nice to me. When I got shot the first time, I found out who my real father was. After a few months of living with him, a fight broke out, and I took a bullet for him.  Neither he nor my uncle stopped fighting long enough to see if I was alright. My brother was the one that took me to a hospital. That was when I ran away to live with my current family" I didn't completely lie. I used the story that made me seem more like a normal person and less like an emotionally damaged superhero.

"What were the names of your family" the detective gave me a worried glance.

"My dad was Steve, my uncle was Tony and my brother was James. Phil was the name of the man that took me in when I ran away".

"So, you said you were retired military" I was happy that the detective was no longer on the topic of my family.

"Yeah, But it was more like honorable discharge. I spent about two and half years with the army. I was stationed in the Middle East. I was a Captain".

"When did you join the military".

"I joined as soon as a graduated high school. I was sixteen at the time, and I was the only female in my unit" I hadn't lied about the age thing, technically.

"Back to the topic of your family; what was your father like".

"He was a superhero I guess. I mean sometimes he went outside of the law for the right reasons" shit, I'd just ruined things. The detective's face lit up as he started to connect things.

"He sounds an awful lot like Captain America, doesn't he".

"Oh no, my dad wasn't Captain America. At least not when I left".

"Was he or was he not Steve Rogers, Captain America".

"He was. That's how I got shot all those times. He got me into dangerous situations. He's the reason I left" I spent the next few minutes explaining to the detective who I really was. He got up to leave.

"Wait, please don't tell anyone who I really am. I've worked so hard to avoid my past-" I started.

"Legally, I can't repeat anything you've said to me in this room, so your secret is safe with me".

"Thank you" I let out  breath that I didn't even know I was holding. The detective left, and I sat in the room alone for what seemed like hours.

The detective came back, and I feared the worst.

"Welcome to the force" he said, extending his hand for me to shake "but I would highly suggest getting some help for your issues".

"Trust me detective, I've tried to get help and it didn't work. I've got what they call incurable PTSD. The last therapist I saw wanted to send me to an asylum for the rest of my life".

"Try again, the Denver PD has a great therapist available. And maybe we can find a way to put your powers to good use. You're free to go".

I left the police station and went home. That detective was the only person from my new life who knew about my past.

Sadly, two months after I started my new job, that detective got shot. He died in the hospital. I remembered how the detective used to ask me about the Avengers and other things of my past. I no longer had anyone to talk to. The other guys on the force hated that I was so good at my job, so they didn't really speak with me.

That detective treated me like I was a regular person instead of a freak. I was sad to see him go, but it was a fact of life.

What surprised me the most was that it took one bullet to kill the detective. I guess no one could survive getting shot like I could, and I knew that if I ever became a detective, it would take more than a bullet to stop me.