A/n: I'm only focusing on the "Ripped Apart" storyline and not the other missions in between, but there will be no Lisa because I didn't work her into the storyline for a certain reason.

⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD⚠️

Also, the events are altered slightly and Deacon won't recognize Carlos as Jessie due to how and where I want this story to go. Hope you all enjoy this next part! Love you all!!!
~✨Celestial✨~
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***HAS NOT BEEN PROOFREAD! PLEASE NOTIFY ME OF ANY ERRORS!!!***

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Prompt: After going out on a mission with Skizzo to secure dynamite from the Lucky Lad Mine, Deacon returns to Lost Lake and discovers you have yet to return. While Skizzo and Iron Mike deal with where to locate detonator cords, he goes out and searches for you.
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~3rd Person POV~

Once Skizzo and Deacon stashed the dynamite in the lodge, the drifter walked around the camp in search of (Y/n). He asked whoever he came across, but they all had the same answer.

No.

He rushed to the infirmary and watched as Addy changes the bandages on Boozer's stump. He walked over, asking the two the same question he'd been asking for the past five minutes. "Hey. Have either of you seen (Y/n)?"

"I'm afraid not, Deacon," Addy replied, keeping her eyes trained on Boozer's arm.

"She's not back from her supply run?" Boozer knew (Y/n) was the one under the mask and helped Deacon spread the lie about her being on a supply run and not taking on a horde under the alias "Phantom."

"No. She hadn't radioed in, either."

"Try contacting her," the doctor suggests.

Deacon presses the button on the side of his radio and tries to reach (Y/n). "Deacon to (Y/n). Where the hell are you?"

Silence.

"Deacon to (Y/n). Come in, (Y/n)."

Static cracked from the speaker as he paced around the infirmary. With no response from the woman, Deacon growled under his breath. "Dammit..."

"Now that I think about it, our special guest hasn't returned, either," Addy commented. "You might want to look for both of them, Deacon."

"Phantom will be fine, (Y/n)—I'm not so sure of. She wanders off and does whatever the hell she wants," the drifter replied, trying to keep Addy from becoming suspicious. "I'm going to head out and search for her. Radio me if she does return while I'm gone."

"Will do, brother," Boozer replies.

Deacon left the Lost Lake Camp and headed to the old sawmill. On his arrival, corpses littered the ground and seemed to create a trail of sorts. He followed the bodies of Swarmers, walking through the sawmill.

In a large room with conveyor belts, the drifter found (Y/n)'s radio. "Shit." He looked around the room, wondering where her trail went. He found her footprints leading out a metal shutter, which was half open.

Crouching under the shutter, Deacon found himself back outside. The foul odor of rotting corpses assaulted his nostrils as he followed her bloodied footprints to a derailed train. He crawled through an open door in one of the cars and discovered her trail led into a small building behind the tracks. "C'mon. Where are you, (Y/n)?"

Deacon opened the door, the rusty hinges squeaking. Inside, he found (Y/n)'s backpack. "Where are you going?" He muttered to himself as he made his way out a shattered window and further down the platform.

(Y/n)'s trail went cold when he reached the outskirts of the sawmill. "Goddammit," he snarled.

"Ever thought of looking up?" A voice asked. "You never know what you might miss if you keep your eyes glued to the ground."

Deacon's head snapped up and saw the woman he was looking for sitting on a branch in a tree. He threw out his arms in confusion. "What the hell are you doing in a tree?"

"Pack of wolves. I ran out of ammo and climbed a tree so they wouldn't maul me. They only left about a few minutes ago due to some Freaks chasing after them." (Y/n) adjusted the mask hanging around her neck to keep the edge from digging into her skin. "And I accidentally dropped my radio while taking out the horde."

"Yeah, I grabbed it for you." Deacon pulled out the radio to show her. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he looked away for a split second before staring back up at her. "Just glad you're okay."

"Aw, were you worried about me?" (Y/n) snickered.

"You've no idea..." He muttered to himself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Deacon swiftly responds. "So, you plan on coming down anytime soon?"

"I don't know. The view from up here is pretty amazing. I might be here for a little while longer."

"(Y/n)," he scoldingly calls out.

The woman exhaled through her nose and climbed down. "Fine. Let me change." She wandered to the building where she left her backpack and changed into her normal attire. Deacon patiently waited outside for her, ensuring no threat would sneak up on her while she was changing.

(Y/n) emerged from the building in her normal attire. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and closed the door behind her. Deacon walked a few feet in front of her since he knew where the bike was parked. They stepped over various Swarmer corpses during the trek back to the motorcycle. "I can't believe it. You actually took out every last one."

"Taking down hordes is easy once you learn the best strategy," (Y/n) casually responds.

"You're fucking insane. I hope you know that."

"Trust me, I know," she smirked.

<————————————<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Back at the encampment, Deacon and (Y/n) headed to the infirmary to see Boozer. Once they checked on him, the duo were approached by Rikki. "Looks who's back," she said, directed towards the woman at the drifter's side. "What happened out there?"

"Pack of wolves. I forgot to check my ammo before I left, but a few Freaks finally chased them off," (Y/n) replied, lying to a certain extent.

"Glad to see you're safe. You wouldn't have happened to stop by the sawmill on your way back, did you?" Rikki questioned the drifter.

"Uh, yeah. We swung by and the horde was completely wiped out," Deacon responded. "Guess this "Phantom" isn't such a bad character, right?"

"Damn. She took out the entire horde by herself? I'm impressed. She's good in my book," the mechanic said. "I'll make sure to tell Iron Mike the good news."

(Y/n) spun on her heels and began heading to the cabin Rikki provided her. Deacon watched her intently as her figure grew smaller in the distance. He didn't notice Boozer until he spoke up. "You like her."

"No, Boozeman, I don't," Deacon retorts.

"Yes, you do. I lost my arm, not my eyes. You're afraid what happened to Sarah will happen to (Y/n), aren't you?" Deacon remained silent, which was all Boozer needed as an answer. He placed his hand on his shoulder and patted it. "Even though the world is fucked up, who said you couldn't find happiness again?" With another pat on the shoulder, Boozer headed back into the infirmary.

Deacon sighed once his brother was gone. He was going to pursue (Y/n), but one person intercepted him. "Hey, you got a moment?" Skizzo questioned.

"What the hell do you want, Skizzo?" Deacon scowled at him.

"I know where we can find the detonator cords for the dynamite."

"Great. Tell Iron Mike. I'm a little busy at the moment."

"I know you know who this "Phantom" chick really is under the mask. I need her help in getting this shit."

Deacon shook his head. "Not happening, Skizzo."

"What's the deal, huh? She's just some bitch in a mask. Why do you care if something happens to her?"

Deacon grabbed the front of Skizzo's jersey and glared sharply at him as he yanked him closer. "How 'bout this—I don't kick your ass right here, right now and you fuck off. How does that sound?"

Skizzo was silent as he swallowed nervously before responding. "How about this instead—you come with me instead of her."

Deacon gritted his teeth as he shoved the man away from him. "Whatever gets you to shut the hell up."

Skizzo tugged at the collar of his jersey as he cleared his throat. "It's a deal, then. We're leaving now."

"Yeah, yeah. Just give me a minute." Deacon waves Skizzo off and heads to (Y/n)'s cabin. In the small building, he found her slumped over one of the counters in the kitchen. Taking a few steps closer, he saw she was staring at her mask. The floorboards squeaked under his boots, signaling his presence.

(Y/n) spun around and greeted the drifter. "Hey, Deek. Did you need something?"

"Uh, well, not really, but..."

"Oh, god. What's wrong?"

Deacon shook his head. "Nothing's wrong, I promise. Just wanted to tell you I'll be back soon."

The woman's brows furrowed in bewilderment. "Where're you going?"

"Skizzo's found—"

"Oh, hell no! There's no way you can trust that frat boy!" (Y/n) yelled.

"Wait, you think he looks like a frat boy, too?" Deacon questioned. He saw her frown and cross her arms. "Okay, that's not the point."

She ran a hand through her (h/c) hair in vexation. "You seriously can't be going on another run with Skizzo. I don't trust him as far as I can throw him... and I seriously doubt I could even lift his dumbass an inch off the ground!"

Deacon moves to stand in front of the worried woman, placing his hands on her shoulders and staring into her (e/c) eyes. "I'll be fine. Just don't go parading around as Phantom while I'm gone."

"Oh, no, no, no!" She shook her head furiously. "You're out of your goddamn mind if you think—!"

One of Deacon's hand traveled to the back of her neck, sending a chill down her spine and causing her to fall silent. She was baffled at the gentle look in his eyes as he pulled her closer. When their lips met, her entire body became petrified. The shock wore off in a few seconds and she kissed back. She placed her hands on his face, caressing her fingers across the stubble along his jaw.

The escaping of knuckles against the cabin door startled (Y/n) and she jumped away from Deacon. "Hey, Deek! Get your ass movin'!" Skizzo's voice was slightly muffled due to the door. "We don't got all day!"

The woman exhaled, placing a hand on her forehead. "I can't believe you're going with him..."

"Now you know I feel every time you walk out and go gallivanting around in that damn mask," he chuckled.

"Guess the roles have been reversed," she smiled in amusement. "Well then, I'm gonna tell you what you always tell me—be careful and come back safely. Honestly, I'd be happier if you didn't return with Skizzo."

"Yeah, well, we need to stay on Iron Mike's good side so no plots to kill or abandon Skizzo... yet."

"Damn... I already have an entire list," she muttered with a snicker.

Deacon grinned from ear to ear. "Keep it with you. I might need to borrow it soon."

"Hurry the hell up!" Skizzo yelled, banging on her door once again.

"Jesus, Skizzo... Shut the hell up!" Deacon shouted back.

(Y/n) placed a hand on his chest and pushed him lightly. "You better go before the frat boy starts waving a butter knife around."

"Yeah," Deacon exhales. "I already want this shit to be over."

"Just try to not kill him without me, 'kay?"

Skizzo banged his fist against the door and shouted for the drifter once more, earning a displeased frown from him. "No promises."

<———————————<<<<<<<<<<<<

With the detonator cords in their possession, Deacon  and Skizzo leave the transportation building in Iron Butte, which currently was the land the Rippers called their own and aren't very fond of trespassers. "Let's the hell out of Ripper territory and back to Lost Lake," Deacon said as they headed in the direction they left their bikes.

Skizzo suddenly comes to a halt. "What I said in there—about trusting you—is all true."

Deacon turned around, brows furrowed as to why they were discussing this matter right now. "We don't have time for this shit, Skizzo." The younger man grabs the gun out of Deacon's grasp and aims it at him. The drifter glared fiercely at Skizzo. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Sorry, brother, but this is the only way. Carlos wants Phantom, not you. But now that I know who she really is, you'd just get in the way."

Deacon tried to play innocent. "You're making no fucking sense as usual."

"I saw the mask in her cabin while you were making out. I know what I saw and you can't try to fool me, Deek. You can try to convince me (Y/n), but you're not gonna win this time. Once Carlos gets what he wants, he'll leave all of Lost Lake alone."

Deacon's eyes narrowed, the fire burning in them festering. "You touch her, I'll kill you."

"I'll swing by Lost Lake, grab her, and come back here. The camp will be saved. That's all I care about."

"You seriously think Iron Mike won't figure this out?"

"That old geezer doesn't know how to run a camp!"

"And you do?" Deacon scoffed.

"Better than Iron Mike. Like I said, you'd only get in the way at this point." Skizzo lifted the gun and used it to knock the drifter unconscious.

<—————————————<<<<<<<<<<<<

By the time Deacon regained consciousness, he had already been apprehended by the Rippers. He was missing all his gear, including his hat, jacket, shirt, and cut. His hands were tied to wooden stakes in a dimly lit room. He struggled against the rope, trying to free himself.

The door to the small room swung open and Carlos stepped into the room with a torch in his grasp. A wicked grin spread across his face as he slowly approached the drifter. "Not who I was hoping for, but you'll do for the time being." Carlos circled around Deacon like a vulture eyeing its prey. His eyes trailed over the tattoos scattered across the drifter's body. "A few of my people spotted you working alongside Phantom a few weeks ago. That must mean you know who truly is under the mask."

"Not necessarily," Deacon sneered.

"Oh, I bet you do. That menace has killed over a hundred of my people. She must be exterminated like the roach she is."

"Last I checked, she's keeping your asses in check—stopping "your people" from murdering and torturing others."

"She will pay for what she has done to the innocent."

"Oh, fuck off, Carlos. There's no way in hell you nutcases are innocent," Deacon spat.

The leader of the Rippers raised the torch and aimed the nozzle at the tattoo on the drifter's right arm. "You will share—!"

"Phantom!" A cacophony of Rippers shouted. Gunfire rang out all across the area and the sound of painful cries accompanied the bombardment.

Carlos tossed the torch aside with a fierce glare as he stormed out of the room in search of the masked woman. Deacon tugged at his restraints again, hoping to loosen one of his wrists.

"Find her!" He heard Carlos roar at the top of his lungs. From the room, he also heard the Rippers scurry around in search of (Y/n).

Deacon slumped in defeat after trying for five minutes straight and the rope didn't budge an inch. He grumbled curses under his breath as he stared at the floor.

Suddenly, the doorknob twisted and the door was pushed open slowly with a high-pitched creak. Deacon lifted his head when hearing the obnoxious noise and watched as a familiar masked figure entered the room. (Y/n) lowers her sniper and removes her mask when she spots Deacon. "It's about damn time."

The emotions that crossed over Deacon's face were bafflement and irritability. The anger was for being careless and the shock was due to her mere presence. "How did you—?"

"I may have followed you and Skizzo when you left." (Y/n) grabbed her knife and used it to cut Deacon free. He stumbled forward slightly when his arms were free but regained his balance before he fell. "If you have anymore questions, Wait 'til we get the hell outta this place."

"Any idea where they took my gear?" He asked.

(Y/n) shook her head with a frown. "Not sure, but I did see one of the Rippers wearing your cut. I'll go get it while you find the rest of your gear." She grabbed the pistol strapped to her thigh and handed it to him. "Take this. You're gonna need it."

"What—you haven't taken out all the Rippers yet?" He smirked, taking the firearm from her.

"Only a few," she responds.

"Your definition of "a few" is different from mine."

"All you need to know is there's still plenty of this nutjobs around and they won't hesitate to shoot your ass. Just find your gear and I'll meet you at my bike. It's behind the remains of a burnt house. You can't miss it." She placed the man's back onto her face and pulled the black hood up, tucking her (h/c) hair inside.

"Alright. I'll meet you there."

<————————————<<<<<<<<<<<<

Deacon found his gear guarded by a single Ripper. He snuck up on the man and snapped his neck before reclaiming his clothes and weapons. He grabbed his hat and secured it in its normal backwards position. He gripped (Y/n)'s handgun tightly as he snuck out the back of the house and to the charred house down the street, taking out a few Rippers along the way.

The drifter found (Y/n) already on her bike, the engine roaring as she glanced at him. "Hop on. I know where you left your bike." Deacon didn't hesitate and mounted the bike behind the woman. She smirked as she gripped the handlebars. "Your turn to hold on!" They dodged gunfire as they disappeared into the night.

Arriving at Deacon's bike, said man dismounted (Y/n)'s motorcycle and hopped onto his own. He started the engine, relieved to know the bike wasn't tampered with during his absence. "Let's get the hell out of this place."

"Right behind you," (Y/n) sighed.

The two took off, heading back to Lost Lake. It was a lengthy ride full of danger thanks to Carlos and his Rippers. It seemed as if word had spread about Phantom's arrival and every single cultist was on high alert.

When they safely entered Lost Lake, they rode to the encampment only to find it being attacked by Rippers. "Shit... Seems Carlos beat us here," the woman muttered. Deacon pulls his bike to a stop before crossing the rickety bridge into the camp. Confused, (Y/n) pulls her bike next to his and stops. "What's wrong?"

"Stay here and don't even think about entering the camp until I come back, alright?" Deacon's tone was low and unwavering.

"I can help, Deek. It's my fault Carlos is attacking the camp," she protests.

"No," the drifter shook his head, staring into her (e/c) eyes. "It's fucking Skizzo's fault. He was planning on handing you over to Carlos to save the camp. Just do as I say and stay here."

"Wha—Deacon!" (Y/n) shouts as he rides off, leaving her alone. She tore off her mask, watching as the drifter crossed the bridge and entered the encampment. From where she sat on her bike, she could hear the Rippers and the people of Lost Lake screaming. She stared in horror as a few cabins were set ablaze. "What have I done?"