I'm sorry...

(Also if this is not up to par, I apologize, I wrote in thirty minutes and then immediately fell asleep)

.

.

.

Once, there was a girl named Skye and guy named Grant who loved each other dearly, who fought hard to keep their love for each other alive and protect people from the evil of the world. But this is not about them. Those people are long dead now, replaced with a shadow of a memory of the people they once were.

Now, they rule the world. They destroy everything in their path, leaving nothing but rubble and bodies in their wake. Death and Destruction, that's what they are. Grant, dark and beautiful, he is Death. The sky darkens at his glare and lightning flashes when he smiles as he promises the sweet nothingness that is death with his scowl that doesn't scare you so much as it makes you feel secure. Like he's protecting you. And, in a way, he is. He's saving you from the Destruction that is Skye, whose fire and life burns people to the bone before they even have a chance to return her sickeningly eager smile. Men crumble under her touch and women rip themselves apart at her stare. Buildings collapse under her fingers and the ground shakes in her presence.

Grant once feared that she would destroy him, back when he still thought he knew who he was before, but how can you destroy something that is already ruined? He knows now, he knows he is no better, no more moral than she is when she shatters bones and he rips flesh.

His glare can drop a man dead in his tracks and she can crush every bone in a person's body just with a smile. Her touch burns people to the core, where a brush of his fingers can freeze a person solid. Destruction is fire, Death is ice. They shouldn't work, but the power they have, the force between them, could shatter planets. And with their combined power, they are invincible. They are unstoppable.

Sometimes he wonders if they are too cruel, if they could spare at least one life. Skye always laughs at his thoughts.

"We are better, Grant," she says, her eyes fiery, glowing as she stares across the rubble of their latest rampage.

"I know," he always replies, because it's true. They are better. With his rage and her power, they are superior to all they meet. "But maybe….," he sighs. He never knows how to make his point.

"Sweetheart," the term of endearment always sounds odd coming from her blood-stained lips, "don't overthink things as trivial as compassion. If they cannot survive, they are not worthy."

She's right, as usual.

When the organization HYDRA tries to recruit Skye and rope Grant back in, they burn their headquarters to the ground. Grant stares at the blaze, thinking that it reminds him of Skye and her passion.

He wonders when her spark of light turned into a blaze.

Sometimes Skye wakes screaming for someone named Fitzsimmons, and Grant could swear that he knows that name. But whenever he asks her about her dreams, she just talks about being surrounded by water and being afraid for her life.

"It's awful, Grant," she says, her breathing already returning to normal, the terror of the nightmare chased away by the feel of his fingers trailing up her spine, "Like I know I'm going to die, but I have to save these two people I feel like I know. I never see their faces."

He kisses her bare shoulder and coaxes her to lie down beside him, wrapping his arms securely around her.

"You can't save anyone," he whispers into her hair, "you can't save someone who is not yours to save."

"I saved you," she points out, because if there is anything they are absolutely positive about with their lives before, it is that she saved him.

"But I was always yours," he says, nuzzling her neck, peppering her flesh with burning kisses.

"And you always will be," she replies, running her fingers through his hair.

"Always," he murmurs, "'Til the end of the world."

They accumulate a lot of enemies during their vicious reign. SHIELD, HYDRA, all the military forces they could dream of. But none of them compare to the power in their fingertips. Nothing can stop them. No one is worthy.

Once, SHIELD sends four people to stop them. Four. As if they were a couple of amateurs.

But they know these people. They were the people from before. The ones that tried to keep them apart.

The two scientists cower behind the warrior as she stares them down. It's almost amusing the way she thinks she's threatening. But it is the undead man who steps up first, tries to reason with them.

"Skye, Grant, you're not like this," he says desperately and Skye laughs, sinisterly joyous.

"Of course we are," she says, inching towards him, "we were meant for this. We were made to watch the world fall."

"No," the man tries again, "that's not true."

Skye cocks her head, raising an eyebrow, "Now how would you know that? Have you seen the universe?" she asks in a menacing whisper, "Because I have. And I've seen it burn."

With that, she clamps her hand on his shoulder and smiles, watching as his face contorts in pain as he crumples to the floor.

She turns back to Grant and he smiles. They turn to the scientists next, who are shaking in fear behind the Cavalry. Grant knocks the woman back without a second glance, advancing on the female scientist (did her name start with an S? he can't remember) like a predator stalks his prey. She scurries back, away from her male companion, until she is cornered by him. He steps close to her, giving her a cold smile and she whimpers. He leans forward until she can feel his cold breath on her face and ever so gently presses his lips to her cheek. Immediately, she can feel her throat constricting.

"What was that?" she chokes out, clawing at her throat as if she can pry some invisible hand off of it.

"The Kiss of Death," he says quietly, watching as her body falls to the ground.

He turns back to Skye to see she has finished off the other scientist, burns covering his skin. They simultaneously turn to the last person standing, the beautiful warrior.

She glares at them, but they can feel her grief threatening to take over. They advance on her slowly, allowing her to run if she desires. They wouldn't follow her. Anyone weak enough to run away isn't worth their time.

She doesn't run, but she makes the mistake of touching them at the same time. Separated, they were dangerous, but together, the mixture of death and destruction, the combining of fire and ice, was deadly.

She cries out in anguish as her skin makes contact with theirs, dropping to her knees as her skin bubbles and burns like fire then freezes over, turning the blisters a burning blue. They yank their hands away and she falls.

Grant looks at Skye with the frozen eyes that she knows hide pain. She sighs and pulls him to her, running her fingers through his hair.

"They did not deserve our mercy," she murmurs and he nods. He knows. No one deserves their mercy. No one.

Skye surveys the rubble of the latest city they burned to the ground. There weren't that many left, only remnants of communities they destroyed and the cities they had not yet gotten to.

She smiles because she knows that they will make history, that people will talk about the couple named Death and Destruction for years to come.

That is, if anyone lives to tell their history.

Once upon a time, Agent Lumley said that 'wherever she goes, death follows.' Of course he does, he'd follow her to the end of the world.

And he does.

.

.

So, what'd you think? I was having a lot of angsty feels and this happened and I apologize again for it being so dark. I know that's not what I normally write. Also, for anyone following A Convenient Friendship or What's up, neighbor?, I should have new chapters up by the end of the week.