#had a terrible night and decided to replay the amnesia ending

[lithopsy]

thinking about how batshit i thought howie’s amnesia ending was before i played poe’s route… looking back, it’s still crazy but it’s not, like, “my uncle that got turned into a poodle by an evil magician has decided to remain a poodle in the afterlife because he likes it actually” crazy

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

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!!! ••••••••••••••••••••

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

***** 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. *****

~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."

"Cope, don't—!"

"She's not who you think she is."

"The fuck that's supposed to mean?" Deacon scoffed angrily. "That clearly is (Y/n). I know what my own wife looks like. I've been married to her for eight years!"

Copeland placed a hand on the drifter's shoulder and pushed him further away from the woman. "Let me rephrase that—she's not who she thinks she is."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Deacon growled.

"A few drifters picked her up near Horse Lake. They dropped her off a couple hours ago. I've been talking to her for a while and... she doesn't remember being married to you. She doesn't even remember her name."

"You're fucking with me, right?" Deacon tried to laugh off the news as a terrible joke. The serious expression on Mark's face spoke volumes. The drifter tried to deny the revelation, but he knew Copeland would never lie to him, especially if it involved (Y/n). He shoved past the camp leader and walked towards his wife, who was currently sitting in a wooden dining chair.

As he approached, he noticed her body going rigged. He slowed his advance and saw some of her muscles become less tense. He stared into her beautiful (e/c) eyes as he squatted down in front of her. The astray look on her face caused his heart to ache. By the gleam in her eye, it was as if she was looking at a complete stranger. He swallowed nervously before being able to speak up. "Hey, how're you feeling?"

"Lost," (Y/n) simply responds.

"What do you remember?"

The woman fell silent for a few seconds, breaking eye contact to stare at the floor in deep thought. She frowned when nothing came to mind. "Nothing, but I do have this." She raised her left hand and showed him the diamond ring adorned on her ring finger.

Deacon felt a lump form in his throat as he stared at the wedding ring he picked out for her. He grabbed her hand, tracing his thumb over the glistening diamond.

"Will you help me find my husband? Maybe if I find him, something will trigger my memories," (Y/n) asked sweetly.

Deacon unconsciously gripped her hand tighter. The words had wounded him on a deep level. He fought to hide his melancholy and managed to put on a facade. "I'll help you find him."

(Y/n) smiled gingerly. "I heard Mark call your name over the radio a while ago. It's Deacon, right?"

"Yeah," Deacon muttered weakly.

"Thank you, Deacon."

With a small nod, the drifter walked back over to Copeland. The leader crossed his arms and explained what he was going to do. "I know you probably don't want to accept this, but you're gonna have to. In the meantime, (Y/n)'ll stay here. We've got plenty of room and could use more help around the camp."

Deacon felt utterly defeated, but he wanted to make one thing clear. "Give her a job in the camp. Do not, I repeat, do not send her on any supply runs."

Mark agreed to the drifter's terms. "She'll work the bounty stall. We'll keep her safe. You have my word, Deacon. What're you gonna do now?"

"Ride around and clear my head. Take out a few Freakers in the process, too." Deacon left the encampment without sparing a single person a glance.

<—————————————<<<<<<<<<<<<<

An entire week passed without incident. Deacon visited Copeland's Camp every day to check on (Y/n), who had yet to regain a single fragment of her missing memory. He still had yet to tell Boozer (Y/n) was, indeed, safe but suffering from amnesia.

During the time he wasn't spending with her, he visited Horse Lake and followed her trail to see where she had been in hopes to find the source of her memory loss. Copeland had told him they found no wounds on her, but she had been gone for four months. That was plenty of time for a wound to heal.

Deacon left Horse Lake and headed back to Copeland's Camp to ask (Y/n) a few questions. He pulled into the gate and left his bike with Manny. Rounding the corner, he saw the woman was dealing with a few Swarmer ears. She looked up and greeted him with the smile he fell in love with. "Hey, Deacon. You're back early. Did you find something?"

The drifter leaned against the wooden counter with a huff. "Nothing. I do want to ask you a few questions, though."

"If it involves my amnesia, go right ahead. Maybe something will trigger my memories."

"How long were you wandering around out in the shit?"

(Y/n) though for a few seconds before responding. "A few months. I woke up inside some cemetery with no memories at all." Her eyes narrowed slightly as one of her hands gravitated towards the side of her head. "I-I do remember waking up with a couple of large bumps on the side of my head."

"Someone probably knocked you out. That could be the cause of the amnesia." Deacon peered down at the ears beside his hands before looking back up at (Y/n). "Anything else you remember?"

"Sadly, no. All I remember is what happened after I regained consciousness. I'm sorry, Deacon," she melancholically sighed.

Unconsciously, he reached out and took one of her hands in his. "Hey, don't worry 'bout it. It's not like you asked for amnesia."

"I just hope my memories come back soon." (Y/n) gripped his hand tightly. She peered down at his hand and saw the wedding band amongst the other rings on his fingers. "Who's the lucky girl?"

Deacon followed her line of sight and saw her admiring his wedding ring. He fumbled over how he would answer and decided to use the first random name that came to mind. "Her name's (F/n). She's, uh... currently a hot mess."

(Y/n) laughed in amusement. "Guess she and I are in the same boat."

"You've no idea..." Deacon muttered under his breath for only his ears to hear. He turned to leave, but stopped when he felt something cold and slimy hit him on the cheek. Glancing down at what had hit him, he saw a bloodied ear. Lifting his gaze, he arched a brow as he stared at the seemingly innocent (Y/n). "Did you just throw a Swarmer ear at me?"

The woman bit the inside of her cheek to keep her grin at bay. "Maybe..."

He picked up the ear and tossed it onto the counter before wiping the splotch of blood off his cheek. "It's not nice to throw things," he chided with a small chuckle.

"Yeah, well, it's not nice to abruptly walk away without a proper goodbye. It's a bad habit of yours," she remarks.

Deacon was slightly taken aback as he heard those exact same words after their third date. He had forgotten to say farewell and she threw a stick of gum she had in her purse at him. The memory replayed in his mind as he smiled. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'll be back tomorrow, alright?"

(Y/n) sighed, resting her elbow on the counter while resting her chin in the palm of her hand. "That's somewhat better. I'll see you tomorrow. Stay safe out there, Deacon."

He waved over his shoulder at her as he returned to his bike. Deciding to head back to the safehouse for the night, he left the encampment.

<————————————<<<<<<<<<<<<

"Un-fucking-believable..." Boozer mumbled after absorbing the news Deacon had brought him. "You found her, but she's got amnesia? What the hell happened to her out there?"

"Don't know, but hopefully she'll get her memory back soon," Deacon said, laying down on his bed.

"What about Addy? She's a doctor. Maybe she could help," Boozer suggested.

The drifter flew up into a sitting position with wide eyes. "Why the hell didn't I think of that earlier?"

"Pick (Y/n) up tomorrow and take her to Lost Lake. Iron Mike isn't exactly our biggest fan, but he might make an exception for her sake."

"I just want her back," Deacon confesses.

"I do, too, brother. She kept your ass in line," Boozer chortled heartedly.

He rolled his eyes and laid back down. "Shut the hell up..."

<————————————<<<<<<<<<<<<<

The next morning, Deacon drove to Copeland's Camp and picked up (Y/n). She was confused as to where they were going until he told her about a doctor in Lost Lake. The woman was quite compliant after hearing about the doctor and didn't hesitate to hop on Deacon's motorcycle.

They arrived at Lost Lake Camp an hour later. Deacon stopped in front of the gate, but it didn't open. "C'mon, open the fucking gate!"

The man managing the gate opened it, but it wasn't to allow them in. A woman in a green jacket stepped out and before she snapped at the drifter, her eyes caught a glimpse of (Y/n). "Holy shit..." Her eyes widened. "You found her!"

The puzzled expression on (Y/n)'s face confused the woman. Before she could question what was wrong, Deacon spoke up. "Listen, Rikki, (Y/n)'s lost her memory and... and I'm hoping Addy can examine her."

"Oh, damn," Rikki gasped. "Well, I don't see an issue with that. Come on in, Deek." She opened the gate further, allowing the drifter to ride through and park in front of the infirmary.

Rikki guided (Y/n) into the infirmary, but stopped Deacon before he could follow. "In exchange, you've gotta do a supply run for me."

Deacon opened and closed his mouth in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"While Addy's examining (Y/n), you cam make a quick stop at Camp Pioneer. Deal?"

The drifter desperately wanted argue since he wanted to stay with (Y/n), but he knew winning an argument with Rikki was impossible. "Fine."

"Great!" She patted him on the shoulder. "Now get going. There's a few tools I need you to pick up. Addy'll fill you in on (Y/n) when you come back." With a frown, Deacon left the encampment to find the tools Rikki needed.

Addy examined (Y/n) and asked her a few questions to see if she could ignite a spark with the woman's missing memories. Morosely, the doctor couldn't help. She sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "Has Deacon told you anything?"

The woman shook her head. "No. Does... he know who I am?"

Addy sat down next to (Y/n) with a small nod. "Very well, actually. He must've not told you a thing because you wouldn't believe him."

"Who am I to him?" She questioned nervously, gripping her hands tighter tightly.

"You're his wife, (Y/n). But you probably don't believe me, do you?"

"Not one bit," she murmurs. "But I do want to believe you. He told me his wife's name is (F/n). Guess it was just a coverup. Now that I think about it, Deacon's been the only one trying to help me regain my memories."

"(Y/n)," Addy said, her tone brimming with sorrow. "Your memories may never return. It's been four months since whatever caused your amnesia and whatever it was definitely did some damage. I think your best bet of getting your memories back is Deacon."

The woman nodded slowly. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks for the checkup, Addy."

"You're welcome," the doctor smiled.

<—————————————<<<<<<<<<<<<

(y/n) waited patiently for Deacon's return. It was nearly two hours before he returned to Lost Lake. When he did, the first thing she noticed was his side was bleeding. "Oh, god, what happened?" She inquired as she took him to the infirmary.

"Fucking Rippers..." Deacon replied vehemently.

Inside the infirmary, (Y/n) searches for an antiseptic and a clean rag while Deacon took off all he was wearing from the waist up. He glanced down at the cut along his right side and hissed when he brushed a finger against the lacerated skin.

(Y/n) returned with what she needed to tend to the drifter's wound and immediately got to work. As she pressed the rag soaked in rubbing alcohol against the wound, her eyes trailed up his arm when she heard him curse under his breath from the stinging sensation. Her (e/c) eyes stopped and widened when she spotted a tattoo on his bicep. It was her name.

Images flashed through (Y/n)'s mind as she used her other hand to trace the letters of her name across Deacon's arm. "A few days before the wedding..."

Deacon turned his head to gaze at her. He heard her mumbling, but he wasn't able to make out what she said. "What?"

"You... You got this tattoo a few days before our wedding. I couldn't believe you got my name tattooed on your arm and was completely embarrassed when you showed it to the rest of the Mongrels."

The man turned around, completely forgetting about his wound. He was shocked and overjoyed a portion of her memory was back. Without wasting a second, he wrapped his arms around her small frame and hugged her close to him.

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around his bare torso, resting her head against his chest. "Some of my memories are still missing, though."

Ignoring the pain in his side, Deacon placed a hand on the back of her head and raked his fingers through her (h/c) locks. "I'll make sure you get them all back."

The woman smiled up at him. "I know you won't let me down."