A/n: I present you with the conclusion of this mini series unless someone wants it to continue a little longer.

⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD⚠️

Hope you all enjoy! Love you all!!!
~✨Celestial✨~
••••••••••••••••••••

***HAS NOT BEEN PROOFREAD! PLEASE NOTIFY ME OF ANY ERRORS!!!***

*****
Prompt: Deacon searches for you in a desperate attempt to mend the wounds that have been inflicted over the past weeks. Slowly but surely, the wounds in your heart are healed.
*****

~3rd Person POV~

"A gas station, huh?" Deacon mumbled to himself as he examines the area Captain Kouri circled on his map. He walked over to his bike and mentally mapped out a route to the gas station. "You better still be there, (Y/n)."

Departing from Diamond Lake, Deacon drove up the windy path up to the highway and headed straight for the gas station located off Highway 97. He had heard about the numerous of hordes that wander around the area from a few people on Wizard Island and hoped (Y/n) hadn't decided to take it upon herself to wipe out every single one.

The drifter was quite amazed and mesmerized at how (Y/n) wasn't frightened whenever she saw a horde. In fact, she found it exhilarating and always found it to be a welcoming challenge. All she was terrified of was not having all the supplies she needed to execute her plan. It would even disappoint her if there was a horde she couldn't face due to the lack of materials.

Deacon was sure of two things: (Y/n) was definitely not Sarah and he was very glad she wasn't. She was full of energy and was a hurricane of surprises. In all honesty, he has never felt so alive unless he was with her.

Arriving at the gas station, the first thing Deacon noticed was (Y/n)'s bike. The motorcycle was torn to pieces as if someone or something ripped it apart. The metal parts were bent and pulverized. "What the hell did this?" He glanced around, noting the corpses of the squatters. From the bullet holes in their heads, and no other wounds on their bodies, he knew it was (Y/n)'s doing. "Clean kill. Every single one of 'em."

By the gas pumps, Deacon found the radio Colonel Garret had gifted her after her first assignment. He picked up the device to make sure it still worked before clipping it to his belt and checking the interior of the gas station. He vaulted through a shattered window and landed behind the counter. The garage was void of anything except for a few empty racks and there was no one in the small convenience store.

When Deacon was about to give up and search further down the road, he saw the storage closet was closed. He wasn't leaving until every possible spot (Y/n) could be hiding was checked.

Slowly, the man opened the metal door. The small room was dark and he clicked on his flashlight, scanning the darkness, he found a figure balled up on the floor in the corner. Seeing the familiar unsettling mask obscuring the person's face, Deacon rushed to their side.

Deacon fell to his knees beside her, swiftly tugging the mask off her face. Her (e/c) eyes were sealed and her skin was pale and clammy to the touch. Turning her body over, he noticed a thin slash in her shirt and a crimson stain on the side of it. "Sorry 'bout this, sweetheart, but I've gotta see what happened to you." He lifts her shirt and saw a gash trail from her back to the side of her hip.

Without hesitation, he whipped out a sterile bandage  and wrapped it around the wound to prevent an infection. He grabbed his radio and contacted Captain Kouri, knowing he would pick up. "Captain, I found (Y/n), but she's in bad shape. I need someone to pick her up. There's no way I can get her back on my bike in her condition."

"Understood, corporal. I'll contact Doctor Jimenez and request immediate pickup."

Deacon thanked the captain and waited impatiently for help to arrive. The moment he placed his arms around (Y/n) and tried to hoist her body into his arms, a painful whimper escaped her lips and her eyes cracked open. "S-Shit..." She tried to push against Deacon, not recognizing him due to her blurry vision.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, (Y/n). It's Deacon," he replies, voice lower than usual and full of worry. "I'm gonna get you out of here. Just bear with me for a little bit."

By the time Deacon managed to gather (Y/n)'s body in his arms, a truck arrived outside. Two men exit and he recognizes the red bands around their arms. He carries the woman outside the gas station and to the truck, where the two men took her from him and placed her in the back seat of the white vehicle without disturbing her injury. They hopped back into the truck and headed to Wizard Island. Deacon followed behind the truck on his bike.

On Wizard Island, the two men delivered (Y/n) to Doctor Jimenez. He cleaned her wound, stitched it up, and gave her medication to fight off the pain. She sat silently on the cot, leaning forward and resting her arms on her thighs. She could feel the burning sensation from the sudden movement and immediately sat straight up to avoid ripping the stitches.

The door to the infirmary swung open and Deacon stepped inside the tent. In his hand was her mask. The drifter wandered over to the cot and sat beside her, handing the false face to her. She muttered an incoherent "thank you" before tearing her eyes from his and staring down at the ground.

"What happened out there?" Deacon inquired.

"It was just another normal assignment until Breakers came out of nowhere. The gunfire must've drawn them. One of them smashed my bike into smithereens while the others chased after me. Another batted me through an already broken window and I ended up getting a large shard snagged in my side. Crawled into the storage room, slammed the door shut, and passed out once I pulled the glass from my side after I realized my radio was missing." (Y/n) stated down at her hands, noticing the blood she had yet to wipe off. "How long was I out there?"

"Three days. What'd the doc say?" Deacon wonders.

"That he'd be reporting to the colonel and telling him I'm out of commission until I've made a full recovery. I should be back to my normal routine in a couple of weeks."

"Yeah? And what's your "normal" routine?" Deacon sneered. "I bet it also includes ignoring me."

"Deacon," (Y/n) sighs, covering her face with her hands before dropping them to speak. "You found Sarah. Where is there room for another woman in your life? A friend, maybe? But that won't be enough for me."

Deacon met her (e/c) gaze. "She found someone else."

(Y/n) was confused for a split second before breaking eye contact once she assembled the pieces. "Oh, god, Deek. When did you...?"

"Few days after we arrived. Some guy named Devin," Deacon scoffs.

"Wow, sounds like a douchy name," the woman snickered, earning a chuckle from the drifter. She placed her hands on her knees, drumming her fingers against her black jeans. "And now I'm the one who feels like an asshole..."

"For avoiding me?"

"That, and for not even giving you a slither of opportunity to talk to me. Guess it took you to save my ass to realize how moronic I've been acting these past couple of months." (Y/n) inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness just yet, but I'm hoping you'll forgive me for my behavior soon."

Deacon placed his hand over hers, flipping the appendage over and entwining his fingers with her. "Yeah, well, let's just say it's difficult to stay mad at you."

(Y/n) smiled and rested her head against his shoulder. "Glad to know."

<————————————<<<<<<<<<<

Two weeks had flown by quickly and (Y/n) was completely healed. Deacon had been assigned to watch over the woman by Colonel Garret, who was influenced by Captain Kouri in the final decision. Relationships were forbidden, but that didn't stop the couple from displaying their affection for one another through small actions when no one was around.

(Y/n) had been assigned to take down a marauder camp located southeast of Wizard Island while Deacon wound up being Weaver's errand boy. The chemist has been working energetically on a napalm molotov that would create a much larger radius of damage than three normal molotov cocktails.

Deacon currently was delivering the last ingredient Weaver needed for his creation—polystyrene. Simply put, he brought back an entire box of foam cups. The chemist was hustling around his lab after getting his hands on the final ingredient for his invention. The man in the lab coat grinned as he held up the first of many napalm molotovs. "You ready to test this bad boy out, corporal?"

"I know someone who's gonna enjoy this," Deacon replied and contacted (Y/n) over the radio. Remembering who he was with, he made sure to not use her real name. "Corporal St. John to Phantom. You out there?"

"This is Phantom. What is it, corporal?" Her soft tone asked curiously.

"If you're not busy at the moment, come to Lieutenant Weaver's lab."

"I'll be there shortly. Phantom out."

Weaver was skeptical as to why Deacon would think (Y/n) would enjoy his invention. "You really think an assassin is gonna enjoy a napalm molotov? This shit is pretty loud and alarming."

"She's not really a—look, I've known her for a while. One of the things she did before joining the militia is taking down hordes all by herself. You can bet she's gonna enjoy this."

The chemist smirked, placing the explosive on the table beside him. "Let me guess—girlfriend or wife? Which one?"

"Neither," the drifter denies snappily, hoping the chemist wouldn't detect his relationship with (Y/n) and avoid being torn apart from one another. "She's a good friend I've been traveling with for some time now."

Weaver didn't believe it for a second, but he decided to let it slide. "Mhmm, a "good friend". I'll buy that for now." The moment he turned around, he came face to face with a horrifying mask. "Holy shit!"

"Sorry," (Y/n) huffed with laughter, pulling down her black hood and taking off the mask. "Forgot to take it off."

"Jesus..." Weaver puffed out, placing a hand over his racing heart. "Gave me a heart attack. When the hell did you get here? I didn't even hear the door open."

"I was on the island when the corporal called. It only took me a couple of minutes to get here," she replied.

"Don't do that sneaky assassin shit on me," the chemist sighed. "Especially with that creepyass mask."

"Y'know, I'm not really an assassin. In no way, shape, or form have I had such elite training for a risky position. It's just what the colonel came up with."

"You're doing all his dirty work," Deacon commented.

"Very true," Weaver agreed. "Never been particularly a big fan of the colonel's, but he gives me access to the shit I need."

"Anyway," (Y/n) started as she glanced at Deacon, wanting to change the subject. "Why'd you call me here?"

"This." The drifter picked up the napalm molotov and showed it to her. "We're testing it out."

(Y/n) took the jug from him and examined it closely. Her eyes narrowed when she got a whiff of a familiar scent. "Kerosene. Is this... a molotov?"

"A napalm molotov to be more exact," the lieutenant responded. "It has a larger radius and burns longer than a normal molotov. You two are gonna test it on a horde."

A glint of excitement glimmered in (Y/n)'s eyes. Both men noticed but Deacon was the only one smirking. Weaver was confused and eyes the drifter, whose only response is, "Told you so."

<—————————————<<<<<<<<<<<<

Deacon and (Y/n) were accompanied by Captain Kouri to the small town of Chemult. He joined the couple to see how well Weaver's invention truly worked under Colonel Garret's orders.

On a plateau overlooking the small town, they spotted the horde weaving through the crashed vehicles and towards the derailed train. The only light they had as guidance were the dim streetlights and their flashlights.

"They'll be here for a while. This is their feeding ground," (Y/n) informed the men as she handed Deacon his binoculars. She wandered over to the crate of napalm molotovs strapped on the back of her new bike, courtesy of Captain Kouri, and grabbed all she could carry. "I'll be back."

"You know what you're doing?" Kouri questioned.

"She's done this before," Deacon replies. "A lot."

"I've got all that I need, captain. That, and much more," she smirked. "I'm looking forward to seeing what Weaver's invention can do."

Deacon crosses his arms, eyes trained on (Y/n)'s back as she left and headed into Chemult. Captain Kouri was aware of their relationship and wondered if the drifter was worried. "You're not going to try and stop her?"

"Even if I did, she wouldn't listen to me. Learned that a while ago. She's taken on bigger hordes by herself."

"Never expected to meet someone who took down hordes for amusement," Kouri said.

"Yeah," Deacon chuckled. "Neither did I."

Suddenly, a large flame rose into the sky as loud shrieks echoed throughout the small town. Deacon grabbed his binoculars and watched a third of the horde burn. The Swarmers caught in the explosion cried out before collapsing to the ground.

Captain Kouri was amazed at the sight. "Lieutenant Weaver will be more than happy to know his explosive works. Now all we have to do is wait for the rest of the horde to be wiped out."

Another throng of explosions filled the air as the horde scurried around Chemult after (Y/n). She led them directly into the traps she set and only a few remained as they chased her down the street. She grabbed her handgun and killed the last remaining Swarmers on her heels.

All was silent. The horde was wiped out and there were no Freaks in the area. (Y/n) sighed in relief as she laid down on her back. The hard asphalt wasn't the most comfortable, but she didn't care. Staring up at the stars, she felt at peace for the first time in years.

Someone sat beside the woman and she knew exactly who it was because there was only one possibility. Sitting up, she glanced at Deacon with a smirk. "So, how was the show?"

"Still can't believe you find it entertaining to take on hordes," he stated.

"Someone's gotta do it," (Y/n) retorts. With a grin, she placed a hand on his chest and pushed him down to the ground. She quickly straddled his hips before he could get up and placed both hands on his chest, leaning down until their faces were only a few inches apart. "There's no knife this time, I promise."

Deacon's hands gravitated towards her hips with a playful grin. "As much as I'm enjoying this position, this ain't exactly the most romantic place."

"What?" (Y/n) lifted her head, gazing around the decaying town. "On the road smack-dab in the middle of the apocalypse isn't doing it for you where a Freak could spot us any second? What a shame. I like to live on the edge."

"Yeah, I know you do. Just don't drag me along for the ride."

The woman sighed defeatedly and climbed off Deacon. "You're no fun, Deek." She stood up and crossed her arms, lips pursed in a childish manner.

Deacon got to his feet and adjusted his militia hat. "Just tryna keep our asses from getting eaten alive."

(Y/n) unfolded her arms, resting a hand on her hip. "Yeah. Wouldn't want to find you a little over here, there, or everywhere. It's not fun picking up the pieces, especially body parts."

"You've—never mind. Not gonna even ask."

"We better not keep Captain Kouri waiting much longer, but before we go..." (Y/n) reached out, grabbing the collar of Deacon's shirt and hauling him towards her. The drifter didn't have time to even blink before he felt her soft lips against his. It was a sweet and innocent kiss, but they both had desperately wanted to go further. Morosely, they couldn't do such a deed just yet.

Once the kiss came to an end, (Y/n) released Deacon and smiled softly at him. "I love you, Deacon. I hope one of these days, it'll be just us again."

Deacon wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his side, placing a kiss on her forehead. "I'll make sure we get the hell outta this place together."