Days Gone Oneshots

Deacon St. John || The Sarkoski Siblings [1/2]

A/n: If you've played the game, you might know where I got this idea from. For those of you who aren't familiar with it, I'm just gonna slap a spoiler warning just in case I do end up putting in some spoilers! I'm honestly not sure if this does have spoilers in it at all. I'll let y'all be the judge of that.

⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD⚠️

Love you all!!!
~✨Celestial✨~
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***HAS NOT BEEN PROOFREAD! PLEASE NOTIFY ME OF ANY ERRORS!!!***

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Prompt: You are Skizzo's younger sister. Deacon has had a crush on you for a while, but he has yet to express his feelings. When Rippers attack the camp and you're their target, Deacon goes to the extreme to try and protect you, but will it be enough?
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~3rd Person POV~

Arriving at Lost Lake Camp, Deacon pulled his motorcycle to a stop in front of the garage and was greeted by Buzz. "Hey, Deek. We got some new pieces in if ya wanna take a look."

"Hey, Buzz. Maybe later," Deacon replies, pushing the kickstand down and dismounting his bike. He walked over to Rikki, who was working on her motorcycle.

The woman heard the drifter's approaching footsteps and smiled as she tore her attention from her bike as she stood up. "What's up, Deek?"

"Fucking Skizzo..." Deacon muttered in response.

"Shit. What does he want now?"

"Something about a "score" he found. I don't really have a fucking clue."

Riki sighed as she felt a foreboding feeling in the bottom of her gut. "Jesus. What the hell could it be?"

"Hell if I know," Deacon scoffed, crossing his arms. He glanced around the encampment, watching people doing their jobs. "Hey, uh, where's—?"

"(Y/n)'s in the infirmary helping Addy," the woman responded with a smirk. She raised her chin slightly with an amused glint in her eyes. "Gotta say, Deek. I think she's the reason we see you so often."

"What—no," the drifter denied rather swiftly.

"Uh-huh," Rikki snickered. "Keep tellin' yourself that. You might just convince yourself."

Deacon ignored Rikki's last comment and walked over to the infirmary. Opening the door, he heard the painful cries of a man sitting on one of the many beds. He wailed at the top of his lungs as (Y/n) tended to his injury. The drifter looked closer and saw the man was missing his right hand. Tears were streaming down his face as the woman was wrapping a bandage around the amputated area. She kept his arm elevated to avoid anymore blood loss.

A grim expression on (Y/n)'s face as she watched the man fall unconscious was a sign Deacon knew the man wouldn't make it. Not wishing to startle her, the drifter cautiously walked over and eyed the deathly pale man laying on the cot. "What the hell happened to him?"

(Y/n) sighed, pressing a hand against her forehead. "He was on marsh duty when a group of Rippers came out of nowhere. By the time we got to him, they'd severed his right hand and took off."

Deacon scowled, eyes trained on the dying man. "What the hell was Mike thinking—making a fucking treaty with those psychopaths?"

"I don't know, but more and more Rippers are breaking away from Carlos every day and wandering into Lost Lake. This is the third time this has happened this week alone."