Days Gone Oneshots

Deacon St. John || Shattered Memories

A/n: (F/n)=female name. Just use whatever name that you aren't using for yourself. Hope you all enjoy! 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 Deacon's wife. You disappeared a few months ago when you went on a supply run by yourself. One day, Deacon receives word from Copeland that you were safely picked up and taken to his camp. When the drifter arrives, he discovers you've lost something precious.
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~3rd Person POV~

"Deek, you need to stop," Boozer snapped. "(Y/n) vanished four months ago and you've dedicated every day since then to searching for her. You're not thinking straight, brother."

"I am thinking straight, Boozer," Deacon hissed. "She could be wandering around out there in the shit all by herself with no clue where the hell she is!"

"I know how much you love her, but at the point in time she could be dead for all we know and you're just chasing a ghost."

"She's not dead," Deacon snarled.

"Deek—"

"She's not and I'm gonna prove it by bringing her back." The drifter grabbed his gear and descended the watchtower. He filled his saddlebags with extra ammo and other supplies for the long day ahead of him.

It had been a routine every day for the past four months—wake up, grab his gear, fill the saddlebags, and drive around Belknap and Cascade until night fell. This wasn't the first time Boozer had tried talking him out of searching for (Y/n). Ever since her sudden disappearance four months ago, Deacon had been a mess. He rarely slept, barely ate, and found himself taking his anger out on any Freak he came across.

Riding down the side of O'Leary Mountain, Deacon's radio blipped. "St. John, this is Copeland."

"Yeah, I know..." Deacon hissed under his breath before accepting the transmission. "What is it, Cope?"

"Come to the encampment immediately."

"This better be fucking important," the drifter snapped back.

"It is. Copeland out."

"Let's get this over with," he groaned after the transmission ended.

The camp wasn't far from the O'Leary Mountain safehouse. Deacon arrived in only a few minutes and parked his bike in front of the mechanic's. Manny lifted his head when he heard the bike's engine cut off. "Hey, Deek. Something I can do for you?"

"Where's Cope?" He asked, failing to mask his irritation.

Manny had experienced the drifter's anger and felt horrible for whoever was on the receiving end. "Uh, he just went up to his room with someone a few drifter's brought in."

Without a proper acknowledgement, Deacon departed from the mechanic and headed up to Copeland's room. A few people greeted him as he made his way up, but they all received the cold shoulder. The drifter was in no mood for any jobs or demands from anyone.

The moment Deacon reached Copeland's room atop the tree, he verbalized his hate. "What could possibly be—?" When Mark stepped aside and revealed the person he was chatting with, the drifter's eyes widen in utter shock. His mind went blank as his mouth remained slightly ajar.

"Glad you could make it so soon," Copeland said, walking towards the flabbergasted man. Deacon tried to approach his wife who had been missing for four months, but Mark stopped him. "Listen to me, Deacon, for just a minute."