(Calamity)
A/N Hey y'all we've got about two more chapters too go! So I just wanna take this time to thank you guys for reading this story and to remind you to please, please, please review because I'd really love to hear your thoughts! Not your literal thoughts, that might be awkward. Anyway no body in this chapter is real, they're all fictional and most are owned by MARVEL. Thanks again guys and Keep on Keeping on :)
The trials were finally over but the protests weren't. There were so many families who lost members to the fire. Murdock and Nelson were able to convince the judge of the other being living within me, but the people wouldn't have it.
"Monster!"
"Baby Killer!"
"Freak! You don't belong here!"
"Death Penalty!"
I slowly walked up the stone stairs as police kept the protesters at bay. The Governor had been worried that the anger from the protesters would set off another 'episode' as he put it. So he had scheduled a meeting to speak with me.
"How does it feel to get away with the murders of thousands Mrs. Jorgenson?"
"What would you say to those whose families you murdered?"
The press shoved against the wall of police, forcing micro phones and cameras in my face. I bit my tongue, following the advice Murdock had given me.
"Don't talk to the press or the protestors and above everything else, remember that it wasn't your fault."
I was grateful for the support and care I got from both my lawyers but, it was getting harder to feel like I wasn't responsible. All the pain and suffering I caused was inexcusable. I can't keep going like this if it means I'm going to hurt so many. I wish I could just run away from the hate, the pain, the guilt.
We made our way into the building and the screams of the outside world were silenced by the heavy wooden doors. White marbled floors clacked as expensive shoes marched along the hallways. Pillars surrounded a large wooden desk at which sat a white haired secretary.
"Jorgensen." It wasn't a question it was more like an accusation as she glared over the rims of her glasses. "He's waiting for you in his office." She pointed a gnarled finger down the left corridor.
"Alright." The police who had escorted me returned through the wooden doors and left me to find my own way.
Heading down the corridor I glanced at each office until finding one labeled 'Paul Lepage'. Stepping hesitantly up to the door I straightened before holding my head high and knocking firmly on the door two times.
"What is it!" A gruff and annoyed sounding voice barked from within the room.
"It's Jorgensen." I stated, furrowing my eyebrows at his angry tone.
"Stop wasting my time and come in already!" I clenched my jaw and forcefully turned the knob. I haven't even met the guy yet and I already want to knock his teeth out.
A old lump of a man sat behind a heavy wooden desk. Papers littered the surface in no particular order. An orange glow coming from an awful looking ceiling light blanketed everything in the dull room.
"You've been a real pain in my ass Jorgensen." He barked, glaring at me over the brim of his wire glasses.
Shocked at his blatant disrespect, I was angered. "Excuse me?"
"If it was up to me I'd have given you the chair, but that dumb ass judge actually believes your shit story."
I clenched my fist, is he even allowed to talk to me like this? I could easily just burn- I stopped. Taking in a deep breath I attempted to calm myself. I can't risk losing my temper and killing more people.
"You'd have to be an idiot to believe that piece of crap, but I can't do anything about it now." He let out an unhealthy sound that was a cross between a sighing beluga whale and a choking cat.
I glared at him and my hands slowly traveled behind my back where I cracked my knuckles.
"Now, I can't have a riot on my hands because the paperwork would just be ridiculous. So I'm turning you over."
I froze. What did he mean 'turn you over'? Too who? The Police? Shield? Hydra? My breathing increased as I imagined being used as a weapon.
"What do you mean exactly?" I asked stiffly.
"You're going into a protection program. I can't have you running around disrupting everything. So I'm giving you too someone else, you're not my problem anymore."
"I don't-"
"Believe me Jorgensen. It's better this way."
I jumped as a man slowly emerged from the left corner. He was small and very much resembled a mouse. His thin brown hair was slowly receding to the back of his head. A bushy moustache hid his upper lip.
"Who the hell are you?" I asked, looking to see if there was anyone else in the room. We were alone.
"My name is Neal Mathers and I'm with the witness protection program."
"I'm not a witness to anything." Seeing where this was going I added. "You should use your resources to help people who really need it."
"Technically you are a witness if what they say is true about your inner-" He gestured in my general direction. "Being."
I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean if?"
He ignored my question and opened a manila folder. "Do to the severity of the situation we've decided to remove you from the populace of New York. The protests have got out off control and if they cause you to lose your temper then we could have another incident on our hands."
That might be a good idea, there's so many people here and if I lost control again… "Where would I go?" I asked quietly.
"There's a small town in Maine we think would be great for you to lie low in."
"What if someone recognizes me, I did make national television you know."
"Well, first off we'd get rid of some of your defining features." He gestures to my hair.
"What? No? I kept my hair like this last time I went undercover, hell I kept this hair through a fucking coma!" I remembered my mother and how she had taken care of me through those months before-
"Mrs. Jorgensen." He gave a stern look, one father's save for dealing with disrespectful teenagers. "You need to be willing to take steps if you want to keep people safe."
I sighed, grumbling. "Fine…"
"Good, all we need to do is have you fill out some paperwork and then we can put you through the system."
I slowly watched as my green hair drifted to the floor. The hum of the buzzer vibrated against my head. This was the first step to changing my appearance after I got done with the paperwork (Which there was a fuck ton of). Next I would be bleaching out the green so my normal black could replace it.
"Jorgensen, your files." Neal handed over a heavy folder with my new name printed across the front.
"Susan Johnson?" I raised an eyebrow, I'm pretty sure I don't look like a Susan.
"Yes, and you better get to work on learning Susan's history because we've already got a house lined up and you're moving in tomorrow." With that he left me alone with the hairdresser to absorb what was to be my new life.
This could be good, a chance to start over. No more Hydra, no more SHIELD. I can be my own person and not have to worry about assassins or mutants. I can live the rest of my days out in peace. Just me, myself and I, also that strange fire demon thing that possess my body and likes to kill people. I think I can make this work.
A/n Saw Civil War by the way... JESUS CHRIST IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT YOU ARE MISSING OUT ON ALL THE FEELS, THANKS MARVEL I TOTALLY DIDN'T NEED MY HEART