One: End?
Lightning, rain, hail, wind. Everywhere. Crashing and whipping past in a furious gale. Soaking to the bone.
All in vain.
He dodged the lightning. He could outrun the wind. The rain didn't fall hard enough to deter him, the hail moved too slow. She hovered high above in the very centre of the chaos, the swirling vortex of cinder-black clouds. He advanced, carefully but too quickly. In her desperation the raging storm grew ever stronger.
But not strong enough. Never strong enough. Never fast enough.
He used his speed to scale the outer wall of the abandoned compound; she aimed and struck, electricity crackling through the heavy air – but he skirted around it, swinging himself to the top of the wall. Momentum and speed and strength fuelled his leap, and suddenly he was flying straight at her, arms outstretched. She reached out to strike again—
Collision.
And she was falling.
They fell fast, landed hard. Her breath was sucked from her lungs, arm twisted unnaturally beneath her. She could feel the storm dissipating as her concentration was shattered. Her lungs wouldn't inflate; her vision faded in and out; rain stung her eyes and her back screamed. Something warm oozed down her face from her temple and she couldn't feel her legs. Pain, so much pain...
He was on his feet – she'd broken his fall. Through blurred vision she saw him pull back his leg; his specialised shoe collided with her side and she bit back a scream, gasping for oxygen. Her rib snapped with the force.
Fingers closed around her throat and he lifted her from the ground completely; she dangled. His other hand, fist, met her face. Crack. Immediately her eye began to swell shut; blood trickled into her other. She couldn't breathe. Her body screamed in agonised protest. He pulled his hand back again, deliberately slow, taking aim for another hit.
"Don'...." The words were thick in her mouth, mingling with blood. "Don't... we can... h-hel—"
His grip tightened; she choked. Through fading vision she saw the hateful scowl.
"You can't help me," he snarled. "You could never help me. You can't help any of us."
"Quicksilver..." it was a gurgle. The world was tunnelling...
"Go to hell, Munroe."
His fist met her stomach, once, twice, and then she was flying.
All the way to the bottom of the cliff.
Any good? I know, I'm such a bad girl.