A/N: This follows Shaw on her path for revenge against Blackwell. It's kind of a dark take on the "shapes" conversation... "If you were a shape, you were a straight line. An arrow." Because, damn.
"Cupid"
by AmethystB
Shaw fingers the arrowed tip of a bullet through the lining of her (Root's) jacket. A size too big, the jacket is a shell, a casing. Like the bullet, inside she promises revenge.
On a rainy night she sneaks into a rundown dive in midtown Queens, surveying the lonely as they drink into the morning.
She locates her target, the sunken shoulders and bowed head of a sad man, and orders a drink just down from him, inconspicuous and careful.
The whiskey is relief on her lips.
She leaves the man be, leaves him to live another day.
It's been a month. She hasn't heard from Finch, figures John is dead. She checks up on Lionel from a distance, the poor bastard stuck with paperwork as he recovers.
When it rains she goes to see Root (the grave marked 050313). She never says anything, just stands and waits. She doesn't know what she waits for.
Shaw makes Jeffrey Blackwell her obsession. She recalls the other obsession (hobby) she once had, a woman named Samantha Groves. A woman who got so far under her skin she couldn't scratch her out.
Blackwell is drifting, lost without a purpose. He drinks to oblivion most nights she watches him. She thinks it would be easy to kill him then, but she wants him to see her.
She wants him to know why he dies.
On a dry but cold day she follows him back to lower Manhattan, cases his apartment decidedly. She leaves to visit 050313 once more, stands at the grave and waits.
Shaw realises with a strange pang that she waits there for Root to not be dead. She of course knows now this isn't another simulation, but still can't accept that it's real.
The bullet in her pocket won't bring Root back, but it still has a name on it. She has to do it.
She loads up a gun, screws on the silencer and tracks back to the apartment.
He's not surprised to see her, doesn't even really try to fight back. Feebly tries to talk her out of it.
"Those people, they wouldn't want you to kill me."
Those good people. Shaw concedes that truth, watches the almost hopeful look in Blackwell's eyes.
"But they're all dead."
Shaw fires two quick rounds, knows each one hits the heart. Cupid's arrow kills a man.
A/N: Too dark? I promise my next story will be a fluff piece.
