Days Gone Oneshots

Deacon St. John || Strangers in my House

A/n: (S/n) means sister's name. Besides that small note, I 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 and your sister (if you don't have one, make one up) live in a farmhouse down the road from Sherman's Camp. Even after the camp was overrun and crawling with Freakers, you and your sister decide to remain where you are. Roughly every day, Deacon comes and checks in on you both to make sure you're both all right. One day, things don't go according to plan.
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~3rd Person POV~

"Hey!" (S/n) called out to her older sister as she peered through a small slit between the boards obscuring the window. "You-know-who is at the door."

(Y/n) stood up from the couch and wandered over to the front door, removing the various amounts of locks. It was a safety precaution against not the Freakers, but the constant and large threat of Marauders and Rippers—the only beings who actually knew how to use a door handle.

Opening the door, (Y/n) greeted Deacon with a gentle smile. "You're a little early. You don't usually check in on us until noon."

"Something's come up and Cope needs me for some job. I was, uh, just passing by and thought I'd see how you and your sister are doing." Deacon entered the house and glanced around. He admired how the interior was furnished nicely with pictures and paintings hanging on the walls as if they weren't in the middle of the apocalypse. He found it comforting to know the (L/n) sisters were able to give him a slice of normality in such dangerous times.

"So, Deek, when're you and my sis gonna hook up?" (S/n) questioned with a smug grin. She plopped down on the sofa, propping her feet on the armrest.

(Y/n) glared daggers at her younger sister and shoved her feet off the armrest with a growl. "Shut your damn mouth."

"What?" The girl shrugs her shoulders, pushing her body up into a sitting position. "I know it's gonna happen sooner or later..."

The older woman heaved a deep while pinching the bridge of her nose. "I can't believe some of the shit you say..."

"Neither can I," (S/n) chortled. "It just kinda slips out."

"Anyway," (Y/n) turned to Deacon, who seemed slightly unhinged from the younger sister's rambling. "I've a surprise for you."

"What kind of surprise?" The drifter inquired.

"It's not a surprise if I tell you. Come on."

Deacon followed (Y/n) up the stairs and into her bedroom. On the bed laid a bolt-action rifle in great condition. Amazed at seeing such a pristine and well-kept firearm shocked, the drifter wondered where she could've acquired such a treasure. "Where the hell did you get this?"

(Y/n) hesitated for a second, knowing he wasn't going to like her answer. "Well... I found it on a dead Marauder's body while I was searching for supplies in Sherman's camp."

Deacon tore his gaze from the sniper and glared at the woman. "Goddammit, (Y/n), I told you not to go there! Mike said he'd gladly give you whatever you needed."