The Justicar

Commander Cold looked up, eyes narrowing behind the visor of his suit as he saw the tell-tale blue and gold of the hero before him.
“It can’t be…I killed you.”
Justicar dropped off the ledge to land just in front of him, fist on the pavement. The hero stood, ice eyes boring into the villain.
“No, you shit-stain, you killed my twin brother. Lucky for me and not for you, we have the same powers and he had a backup suit.” Her voice was lighter than Justicar’s but the same strength and confidence was there as she grabbed Commander Cold and slammed him against the wall. “And you’ve earned yourself a one-way ticket to Pound Town.”
With one hand, she unbuckled her helmet and let it fall to reveal a decidedly softer face than the one Commander Cold had seen on the Justicar when the hero had been bleeding out on the floor of his base.

“I’ll tell them. I’ll tell every one of them that you aren’t Justicar.”
“They won’t believe you.”
Leaning down, she scooped her helmet back up and pulled it back on. She adjusted her helmet, getting the chin strap back into its proper place and when she spoke again, it was her brother’s voice they heard.
“Because as far as everyone’s concerned, I am my brother. And you killed Justicar’s civilian sister. Naughty naughty, Commander.”

“But just to be sure, before I drop you off with the police, who am I, Commander?”
She slammed him against the wall again, as hard as she could.
“J-Justicar.”
“You don’t sound confident in your answer.”
Again. And again. His visor cracked.
“Justicar! You’re the Justicar!”
“Good boy. Now come on, let’s go drop you off for lock-up.”

Justicar dropped out of the sky, unceremoniously dropping Commander Cold on the stones of the front steps of the police station.
“Officer, I need someone to take this man into custody.”
“Of course, Justicar. I’ve got him.”
“What should we put down for his crime?”
The Commissioner stepped forward and Justicar looked down, hands tight-fisted.
“Murder, Commissioner. This piece of shit killed my sister. I don’t know how he found out about her, but he did.”
“Don’t worry, Justicar. We’ll make sure he’s…taken care of.”
“Thank you, old friend.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”

The Justicar showed for the funeral in costume, eschewing his secret identity entirely in that moment. It was a closed casket funeral since Commander Cold hadn’t left his sister in a state to be seen. At least, that was what the Justicar told everyone. He kept his helmet on through the whole ceremony, not even undoing the chin strap. There were some who said that they saw tears on the face on the stalwart hero of the common man, but there are others who never believed it.