Chapter Text
Deacon was *tired*. Ever since this whole apocalypse started, he had felt tired almost every day, never getting a peaceful night of rest. He was always worried that one of those damn freakers would somehow find him, or the rippers would find him and Boozer. So when he rode into the hot springs camp, ready to sell some bounties, the last thing he expected was for someone to notice. Sure, there was mud on his pants to his knees, and his hands were flaking with dried freaker blood, but that was also becoming more and more usual as he started taking hordes out around the encampment. The last thing he expected was for Alkai to notice.
Alkai was perceptive. His Grandpa always told him it was the native in him, whatever that meant. He always brushed it off as a stereotypical racist white old man's ramblings, but whether or not that old man was right, Alkai was perceptive. So when St. John, their resident drifter came in with that *look* in his eyes, he noticed. He had seen that look in men's eyes before, the one right before they snapped. One man, his name was Jared, God rest his soul, threw himself to freakers, claiming he just couldn't take it anymore...damn him! Alkai should have noticed sooner...But here was St. John...and he could do something.
Alkai walked up behind Deacon, where he was selling bounties, and gently placed a hand on the drifters shoulder. Deacon jumped at the touch, turning around with a glare "Alkai...what is it?" He muttered suspiciously. He had every right to be suspicious, it wasn't every day that Alkai approached anyone, especially Deacon but...he had to do something, but what
"St. John...walk with me." I said with a gesture of his hand, signaling Deacon to follow after him, which with a huff Deacon did so.
Alkai led him through the encampment, past the pile of burning corpses, a nauseating smell coming from it as they passed by, causing a small gag to come from Deacon. Alkai let out a low chuckle, being used to the smell.Finally, they arrived at Alkai's small shack near the fringes of the camp, away from the noises and the smells, almost...calm. Serene.
"Deacon, are you alright?" Alkai asked, concern leaking into his voice as he spoke.
This caught the drifter off guard. "What do you mean?"
Alkai looked away, a almost nervous look penatrating his usually stony features. God, how could he say this without coming across like a weirdo?
"Look, you've been working hard, me and Tucker have noticed. I just...well, you ever think you're working too hard?"
Deacon chuckled, a almost scary noise coming from the man. "Working too hard? Are you serious? You help run a literal work camp!"
Alkai swallowed thickly, "Well, you just, you got that look about you...I'm just a little concerned is all. How about you stay the night at the camp? I got the best cabin here, you can stay here...I just want you out in the shit able to focus. I need you alive dammit." Alkai spits out, his words sounding almost more angry then the true concern he was feeling.
"Shit...I guess I can for the night." Deacon muttered, walking inside Alkai's cabin.
The cabin was small, clearly one meant for a single person. There was a bed in one corner and a desk in the other, littered with charcoal drawings Alkai had done of other campers...and of course Deacon. Alkai quickly walked to the desk and stuffed the drawings into a folder, which earned him a look from Deacon.
"Er...don't mind those, it can get boring, so I draw...anyways, you take the bed, I got some shit to do for Tuck before heading to bed."
Deacon nods, and kicks off his boots before laying on the well worn mattress, quickly falling asleep, low snores coming from him.
Alkai watches over him for a moment before going to do his tasks for the night. The camp wouldn't run itself.