Love thy Enemy

Chapter one

It happened so quickly, Darth's body's impact with the cyber train.
Mars watching, pressed against the side wall, eyes wide and jaw dropped under the thick mask covering his face and the sound of gasps above him.

A crowd grows and for the first time in his life, Mars turns and he runs.

He could have saved him, jumped onto the train tracks, pushed his body and pin him to the other side of the wall and held on until the train passed by completely in under a minute. No matter how many times he tries to reason in his mind that he couldn't have saved him, that the matter was out of his hands, Mars is reminded of the fact that he heard the train coming... that he moved out of the way just in time.

That he ran.

In his lair, he debates hanging up his cape, along with everything he holds true. It is not his job to play judge, jury and executioner. It's his job to get people out of harm's way, and considering that Darth is dead, he's failed.

Heroes don't kill.

Villains do, and Darth, Darth was the worst of the worst. That day in that subway he'd shot a man nearly thirty times for daring to stand up and protect his son. He'd used his weapon to hit someone into the train tracks. He'd planned to hold the entire subway hostage, to kill more if need be to make a statement.

There's a darkness in Mars that holds his shaking hand still and tells him he did good, that if he'd saved him, if he'd handed him to the police, their endless cycle would begin again and more people would die.

Mars has never killed anyone in battle. There are accidents that happen, a punch, a kick or throw that sends another over the edge or The crushing defeat of failure that has someone turning their weapon on themselves but even then he'd made the effort to save his opponents. He'd rushed them to ERs, jumped over rooftops to catch falling opponents, he'd held down on bullet wounds and done everything necessary to save their lives.

Because Mars was a Hero and that is what heroes do.

The look in Darth's endlessly dark eyes before the train collided with his body, recognition... defeat.

Mars jumps up from bed, his naked torso covered in sweat and a thin bed sheet.

Those eyes haunted him in his sleep, they'd replaced the eyes of those He couldn't save.
The one, the only one He chose not to save.

He changes his bedsheets and then sits back in his bed, staring out to the light peeking through the curtains of his bedroom as the sun sets.

The incident happened a month ago and he's been speeding his nights patrolling and taking down petty crime like he usually did but something feels off now.

He felt like an imposter in his Armor. He's no longer worthy of the shield emblem on his chest.

The following morning Mars watched as his father entered his office. The graying man is holding a cup of coffee in his hand.
"You look like shit." The older man grits out.

Mars takes a deep breath and removes his hands from his keyboard.

"Thanks, nothing like an ego boost in the morning." Mars replied, his eyes following every lazy movement his father made in his space.

His father walks to the sitting area in his office and plants himself in the black leather seat before reaching out for the remote over his gut with a long groan.

The man flicks on the over head television and the news immediately begins to come out of the television speakers.

"The officials have confirmed the identity of the woman seen here stealing money from the atm on Elm as Manic- partner to the late criminal Darth. Police are investigating the incident and encouraging people to report any sightings of her. Please remember to stay clear of her and her associates; they are no doubt powered and dangero-" the familiar newscaster, a brown skinned woman with a symmetrical bob, spoke from the television.