In the end he didn't make a sound.
Even when that last bullet that sealed Deacon's fate ripped through his chest he never screamed. He never yelled. Not a tear was shed- No, he was silent.
He was silent because he wasn't afraid. Because he wasn't in pain. He wasn't- angry, or sad...
Because he always knew. Of course, he had invested himself in you, sure. But now-naturally-he saw only an example of what he had always known for a fact to be true.
That's why he had nothing to say to you. That's why he never hesitated to pull the trigger as you had...when your gun was at Des's back.
He already knew. Because even when all is said and done, beneath all the lies and the deceit, the promises and the assurances. After all they've done to prove themselves...even when they say they're sorry. Even if they think it's for the best, that it's what's right-
What was it he always said...?
Well...Deacon needed no more reminders. And never again would he receive any.
But in return, he had left you with many. And as you stood in the now silent Railroad HQ...surrounded by old friends, your hand had instinctively curled around that piece of paper you had been keeping in your pocket ever since Deacon had first given it to you.
His "recall code". His last lie.
He was right.
Making him into one last reminder, commemorating the point he never tired of trying to get across, an effigy to his ideology. You placed the scrap of paper on his leaking chest.
Blood quickly seeping through the paper, saturating the writing.
The black ink twisting and turning, mixing in the wave of thick crimson, the words slowly warping beyond recognition...
'You can't trust everyone.'