They stood side-by-side, hands twined together as they gazed solemnly out over the dying world. The tower, thanks to Toni's building skills, had somehow withstood the war. The panoramic window before them had blown out with the earlier fighting, littering the burned and blackened carpet with shards of glass, but they could almost pretend that it was still there; they could almost pretend that they weren't looking out on the end of their world from the last standing bastion of superhero strength.
Far, far in the distance, a tiny mushroom cloud rose, the first herald of many oncoming heralds of death. If Toni hadn't been so drained already, so exhausted by the futile struggle that they had already lost, she might have cried. She knew the radiation from the blast would reach them eventually, but that wouldn't be what killed them. No, another target rested just a mile away from the tower, and in less than twenty minutes a Doomsday Nuclear missile would descend from a targeting station in space, detonating a mile above the surface with a hundred times the force of a hydrogen bomb. Half the world had been wiped out already by the DN missiles, and the rest didn't have long to wait.
Suddenly, the former Iron(wo)man was jerked away from the window, her hand rising with Steve's as the supersoldier wrapped an arm around her waist. Toni was almost startled, but Steve spoke before she could ask what was going on.
"One last dance?" he asked, a heartbreaking mix of hopelessness and love in his voice. Toni choked a little bit and nodded silently, moisture gathering in her eyes as she realized that this would be the last time she would dance with her husband. With no pride left to bend, no stereotypes left to shatter before the media, she simply stepped into the embrace and leaned her head against Steve's shoulder, a position she normally would have complained was too weak. Her eyes slipped shut, the sounds of the burning, tormented world reaching her ears as they swayed and spun slowly in the dying light. She could feel as the heat and radiation hit her body, could feel the way her skin blistered and burned. They kept on dancing, moving to silent music that would never be heard again.
The burning had begun to build into agony when Steve stopped. The skin of their hands had all but melted together, keeping their clasped fingers locked for eternity. Toni refused to open her eyes, instead pressing her body closer to Steve in some pathetic attempt at comfort. A thick, gooey tear (was that blood mixed in?) slipped from under her eyelid and rolled down her marred face.
"Toni?" Steve's whisper was cracked and rough, fear in place of its usual serenity.
The former genius billionaire philanthropist hummed in response, the searing air burning into her lungs with each labored breath.
"I love you."
The end was coming, and it was Toni's turn to say it. She moved her head and opened her eyes, more tears streaking down her face as she looked up through the darkening light into Steve's bloodshot, crystal blue eyes. Burned, blackened skin warped her husband's beautiful face in patches; blood and clear ooze coated other parts in a sickly sheen. But somehow, Steve was still just as beautiful as the day they had married, the shining pain in his eyes no less meaningful to her than the shining joy that had been there before.
Toni swore for a moment she could see a silver streak in the stratosphere, the glimmer catching in her peripheral vision. The agony built further. She could hear the city burning below. They didn't have much time.
She tried and failed to swallow past the lump in her throat. This was it, their last moments together. The DN would reach its target at any moment. Somehow, she summoned the courage and strength to say it, one last time. Maybe she hadn't said it enough; maybe she wasn't good at it. But still, she would say it one last time, one last time that would mean more than any other time before.
"Steve, I love you," she whispered, leaning up to meet their cracked lips one last time.
The world went black.