Work Header

deadly countdown

Work Text:

It’s painful to realize June is not his soulmate. June is everything Rick has ever wanted in a partner: sweet, smart, brave. The witch is a tremendous burden and June is always frightened and exhausted, but still her strength shines through. She should be perfect, but she is not. The universe is mocking Rick.

His countdown is still running, and with apprehension Rick looks at the numbers. Less than three months. Less than three months and he will meet the partner the universe has devised for him.


Floyd has never taken much notice of all the soulmate nonsense. His father and mother had been soulmates, and had that stopped his father from beating his wife? Or his kids? No.

The first time he really bothers to think about what having a soulmate really means is when he holds his daughter for the first time. Zoe is little and vulnerable. A countdown is already running on her fragile arm and Floyd traces the numbers. His daughter will meet her soulmate when she’s fourteen. He hopes to God, to the universe, that she’ll have more luck that her grandmother because Floyd is not above murdering a teenager if they so much hurt a hair on his daughter. He doesn’t care if Zoe will hate him. She is the most important person in his life.


Eleven years later, when Zoe steps in front of the fucking Batman to stop Floyd from killing the bastard, a part of Floyd wonders, anguished, how he could have failed his daughter so badly. How is he going to protect his daughter if he’s going to rot in a cell?


Floyd has a lot of time to think, after. There’s nothing for him to do, except punching a bag, plotting his escape and thinking. The numbers on his arm now mock him. Less than two months and he will meet his fucking soulmate. They will be a new guard, considering his luck.

Fuck soulmates and fuck the universe.


Rick closes his eyes for a moment when Amanda tells them where they’re going in less than two days. Belle Reve. To recruit monsters and psychopaths. If something drastic doesn’t change their plans, that means that he’s going to find his soulmate in Belle Reve.

“Something the matter?” Amanda’s cold voice intrudes into his unnerved thoughts.

Rick schools his face. Amanda is a shark scenting blood. Rick can only thank God that he’s never bared his arm where anyone in the military could take a note of it. His soulmate would just be another weakness Amanda wouldn’t hesitate to exploit.

“No, ma’am. I will make the arrangements.” he replies, as steady as always (he hopes).

Amanda watches him for a few moments, then nods.

“See to it.” she says, then goes back to the files in front of her.

Rick nods, turns to go and exhales quietly.

He prays fervently that his soulmate will be a guard stationed at the prison, because if they are an inmate… if they are an inmate, he doesn’t know what he will do.


His numbers burn when he locks eyes with the best sniper for hire the world has ever seen and it takes all Rick's discipline not to show any reaction whatsoever. Lawton’s eyes widen slightly, staring at him intently, but thank God and the heavens above, the man has the good sense not to say anything in front of the guards and Waller.

What happens after is the best show of marksmanship Rick has ever seen. It isn’t hard to admit Lawton is the best and probably will remain for decades, but Rick can’t shake the dread that has begun spreading into his chest and mind.

His soulmate is a damn serial killer for hire and one of Amanda’s pet projects. There is no way this is going to end well.

What the hell has he done to deserve this?

(What the hell is wrong with him that Deadshot is his perfect match?)


Floyd thinks he put up a good show. He doesn’t say anything while they march him back to his cell, but he can feel the Colonel’s eyes drill into his back.

When he’s locked up again, the soldier orders the guards to scram and they do, surprisingly without protesting. When he turns the soldier’s eyes are looking at him quietly but intensely through the door hole. Floyd feels a strange sensation, then, something he hasn’t experienced in years: a mix of trepidation, embarrassment and anxiety. As if he wants the other man to not find him wanting. God, this is so screwed up.

He saunters towards the door, where he leans. He doesn’t want this conversation to be overheard.

“So it’s you and not your boss.” he quietly drawls, but it’s just to needle the other man. Floyd knows the truth perfectly well.

The soldier’s eyes flick for a moment all over his face. They are blue, with specks of gold. They are… peculiar. Not dull.

“You should thank your lucky star.” the man says, but his voice is oddly flat, “Amanda is…”

The man doesn’t go on, but Floyd has developed a good nose to judge people at first glance. And boy, that woman made him shiver. Something in her eyes was just wrong. Too hard, too greedy. As if she’d found the right pig to butcher.

“-a greedy bitch.” Floyd completes and the man nods. Then Floyd grins, because while it’s cute that his soulmate seems to be warning him of the danger that is his boss, they have a moment of privacy and Floyd knows it won’t last forever.

“So, what is your name, soldier-boy?”

The man glares at him, but Floyd’s grin just gets bigger, unrepentant, and really, Floyd’s soulmate ought to learn soon what kind of man Floyd really is.

Floyd may not know what the hell the universe thought, matching a killer for hire with a career soldier, but he seems to recall soulmates should be perfectly matched – and Floyd can’t believe he’s thinking this, this soulmate crap really does change a person – but he can’t wait to see how him and this soldier do.

(And maybe… maybe he will see his daughter sooner than he’d ever hoped.)