AN: I have a new ship. That's right – CupidShot. I refuse to believe that Deadshot is actually dead. So this is him waking up – whole and alive. With Cupid right there, of course.
Wake Up Call
Floyd awoke to the steady beep of a heart monitor, dazed and confused, not knowing where the hell he was. He lay still for a moment, wondering if this was his end. If so, Hell wasn't nearly as bad as what he had expected. Except for the annoying weight on his chest.
It was that weight that finally made him open his eyes. His path of vision was filled with red hair, and it took him a moment before he realized who it belonged to. When it hit him, he groaned.
Cupid's – and what a stupid ass codename that was – head popped up and a brilliant smile lit her face.
"Floyd, you're awake!" she said, clapping her hands together.
"I'm in hell," he said, staring at her and her too bright face. She had a tiny cut, just under her right eye. A piece of debris from the explosion? "That damn explosion killed me, and I'm in hell. John had better thank me for this."
"You're not dead, Floyd. The Diggles and I found you and managed to drag you out of the debris before the cops showed up. They're blaming you for it all, that stupid senator paid to have what he did hidden."
She pouted, and it was such a childish, cartoonish thing to do that Floyd had to roll his eyes up to stare at the roof. He had done a good thing, made sure that John and Lyla would get back to their girl… so where was his damn good karma? Why couldn't it be a pretty nurse telling him it was sponge bath time instead of…
Well, Cupid was pretty. Too bad about all the crazy, though.
"What are you doing here?" he asked her at last, because she didn't seem to want to take a hint, instead sitting there and grinning at him.
"Cupid was quite worried about you, Deadshot" – Floyd's gaze shot to Amanda Waller as she entered the room. As always, she was dressed impeccably in a suit, and, as always, Floyd imagined finally getting to take the shot that painted the fine fabric red. God, but he hated the bitch – "she's stayed by your side since you got back. She even refused to have her hands treated, until she knew you would be okay."
Floyd's gaze darted to the redhead's hands, covered in snowy white bandaids, and then his eyes met hers with confusion.
"You were pinned under some rubble. The explosion left it a little… hot. But I wasn't going to just leave you there."
"Because you're in love with me? You switch affections awfully quick, Cupid," he sneered, sitting up and beginning to pull out the IVs that were connected to him. Screw them, if they thought he'd stay bed ridden. Waller watched with amusement while Cupid got to her feet. Her expression was changed from that vapid hero worship she had used after he had saved her, becoming hard, reminding him that she wasn't part of the Suicide Squad because she wanted to be, but because she was just like the rest of them – unstable killers. She slammed her hands on his chest, and Floyd wasn't sure what the damage was, but the impact was enough to leave him breathless and wheezing in pain.
"No," she said, her voice cool as she forced him back onto the bed. "Not because I'm in love with you, although you're quick to toss aside my affections, Floyd. We could be good together. But we're also teammates. In case you forgot, I was a cop. For years. I may not agree with everything the department did, but I do remember one thing – you always have your squad's back. So that's why I saved you. Now be a good boy and heal, won't you?"
She took her seat again, her expression once more becoming that smile as she tucked his blankets around him, and when he caught Waller smirking behind her back, he gave her a glare.
"What do you want, Waller?"
"You're an asset, Lawton. And we almost lost you. I want to make sure that you're being taken care of."
"Don't worry, no damage was done to your asset that can't be fixed… or are you worried about your chip? Since I'm still alive, I'd guess it's fine."
"This wasn't supposed to be a suicide mission, Lawton-"
"They're all suicide missions. That's why we have the name, remember?"
Waller's look said he should reconsider his interruptions if he wanted to continue to live. Floyd wasn't sure he did want to continue to live, hadn't been sure of that for a while, but he also wasn't sure that he wanted to die yet. So he forced back any further smart ass remarks, and let Waller speak.
"- but since you were injured, we'll make sure your daughter gets a little extra for that college fund of hers. As gesture of good will. Make sure you recover, Lawton" – Waller turned to leave, pausing in the doorway with a smirk that meant nothing good for Floyd and addressed Cupid – "I leave him in your very capable hands, Cutter. Make sure he behaves?"
Floyd sneered at her back while Cupid giggled, that ridiculous high pitched sound that he had heard her use when she spoke of her boyfriend the Arrow and the strong children they'd have.
Screw the Arrow – Oliver Queen was a pansy that didn't deserve what he had, and that included John Diggle's loyalty –
Floyd cut off the thoughts, because they stank of jealousy, and that was ridiculous. Queen had nothing that Floyd could be jealous of. He had killed Diggle's brother, was tolerated by the man only because he was protected by Waller, and what else was there? Cupid's love?
Screw that, he didn't want it.
He had it now, anyway.
"I think I have a concussion," he groaned, because it was the only reason for the ridiculous thoughts.
"You did," Cupid replied. "But it's healed. You've been out for ten days."
Ten days? Floyd thought. Jesus, he'd lost over a week? He looked at her hands again, at those snowy white bandages.
"How badly were you burned?"
He mentally cursed himself as soon as the words fell from his lips, and wished he could take them back. The idiot would think they meant more than they did. And just because she had gone back for him, had injured herself digging for him, didn't mean anything. Yeah, okay, he was maybe a little grateful. But that was it. And she'd probably think it meant he was in love with her and –
"You're thinking way to hard, Sweetie," she said, running her bare fingers down his arm. "Don't worry about me. Another day or two and I can take the bandages off."
"I'm not worried about you," Floyd grumbled, and he grimaced when a nurse entered the room to reattach his IVs, having clearly been sent by Waller. "I'm just wondering what I owe you."
"We'll work something out." Cupid gave him a wink and earned a deadpan expression that had her falling into that stupid pout again. "You're not being very nice, Floyd."
"Stop calling me Floyd," he grumbled, and he glared when the nurse bit back a smirk, because what was so damn funny about this? Cupid was clearly a menace to his state of mind. "We're not on a first name basis, Cupid."
"Carrie."
"What the hell?"
"Now we're on a first name basis. I'll call you Floyd, and you can call me Carrie. But you need to get some sleep. I promise I'll still be here when you wake up."
"If you think I'm going to fall asleep while my room is full of crazy-"
She gave him another one of those surprisingly cold glares, but it wasn't that that had him hesitating on his words. It was those stupid bandages, affecting him far more than they should, and the fact that for all her crazy, they symbolized something he'd never really had before.
Someone he could actually trust at his back in the field.
"- Just… keep an eye on any doctors, okay? I don't trust anyone that claims to heal while on Amanda Waller's payroll."
Cupid smiled and reached out to hold his hand.
He knew that she would just grab it again, once he fell asleep. That's the only reason he didn't yank it out of her grip before he nodded off.
AN: And her it is, the first of these one shots. It was written for my fellow shippers over on Tumblr and is my first journey into Arrow fanfic. Let me know what you think.
