The Walking Dead : Lee Everett

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Lee and Kenny stepped outside the house, the air thick with the scent of earth and the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. The tension between them was palpable as they made their way toward the barn. Lee led the way, his steps deliberate, while Kenny followed a few paces behind, his posture guarded, his eyes scanning the surroundings out of habit. 

"What do you want to talk about?" 

Kenny finally asked, his tone clipped and wary as he stopped abruptly. 

Lee turned around, meeting Kenny's gaze. For a moment, the two men stood in silence, the weight of the conversation to come hanging between them. 

"I get it" 

Lee began, his voice steady but laced with concern. 

"You want the best for your family. But leaving now? Going out there on your own? It might put you in even more danger." 

Kenny shifted uneasily, his jaw tightening. Even though Lee had saved him and Duck not long ago, trust was a scarce commodity in a world that seemed determined to crush it. He crossed his arms, his expression skeptical but not dismissive. 

"I have a plan" 

Kenny said after a moment, his voice firm but tinged with frustration. 

"I'm going to get them to safety." 

He paused, glancing toward the house where Katjaa and Duck waited for him. His voice softened slightly, but his resolve remained. 

"I have to. They're my responsibility." 

Lee nodded, understanding the weight Kenny carried. He took a step closer, his tone calm but insistent. 

"I get that. But out there? Alone? It's suicide, Kenny. You might be lucky enough to dodge a few walkers or even a small group, but what happens if you run into a herd? Or worse, people who've decided this world is a free-for-all?" 

Kenny frowned, his grip on his hat tightening as he considered Lee's words. He wasn't the kind of man to second-guess his instincts, but he also wasn't blind to the dangers. Still, the fear of staying in one place too long gnawed at him. 

"I'm not planning on sticking around here either" 

Lee continued, his voice firm but not confrontational. "This place isn't safe, and we all know it. But leaving without a plan, without support? That's just asking to get picked off. I'm trying to convince everyone to move—together. My plan is to head toward Macon, find a place near there, or build something better. Somewhere we can actually defend." 

Kenny's brows furrowed as he listened, his posture loosening slightly. Lee's words made sense, even if they weren't what he wanted to hear. 

"And you think a herd won't find us there?" 

Kenny challenged, though his tone lacked the bite it might've carried earlier. 

"Herds are always a risk" 

Lee admitted. 

"But the difference is, if we plan, we can prepare. Reinforce defenses, gather supplies, and scout the area. Out here, we're sitting ducks with nowhere to run if things go bad. At least near Macon, we'd have options." 

Kenny looked down, his fingers tugging at the brim of his hat. He wanted to argue, to push back, but deep down, he knew Lee was right. His family's survival wasn't just about running—it was about making smart choices, even when those choices felt like gambles. 

"I hear what you're saying" 

Kenny said finally, his voice quieter. 

"But if this plan of yours falls apart, I'm not stickin' around to watch my family die. If I see even a hint that this place—or wherever we end up—can't hold, we're gone." 

"That's fair" 

Lee replied, offering a faint smile. 

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you. But let's work together to make sure it doesn't come to that." 

Kenny nodded reluctantly, his trust in Lee still fragile but growing. As they walked back toward the House, the silence between them felt less like tension and more like an unspoken agreement: survival was the only priority, and for now, their best chance at it was sticking together.

Hershel stood at a distance, his sharp eyes fixed on Lee and Kenny as they exchanged words. The conversation seemed intense, their expressions shifting between determination and understanding. When the two men finally shook hands, Hershel's lips curled into a faint, approving smirk. He turned his gaze toward Lee, the glimmer of newfound respect evident in his eyes. For a moment, it seemed like he no longer minded Lee treating his home as if it were his own—perhaps Lee had earned that much.

Katjaa, Kenny's wife, stood nearby, her arms loosely crossed, watching the scene unfold. She gave Lee a small, appreciative nod, her features softening with what looked like gratitude. The idea of leaving the safety of the farm unsettled her—she had fought against it silently, her heart heavy with fear. But Kenny had pushed hard, his stubborn resolve impossible to counter. Watching Lee reason with her husband, calming his fiery spirit and guiding him toward a mutual understanding, Katjaa felt a flicker of hope. With that conflict resolved, the weight on her shoulders began to ease, and for the first time in days, she allowed herself a sigh of relief.

Lee stepped into the room, As he approached Hershel, he noticed Natasha standing nearby, her arms folded, her expression serious but calm. The atmosphere in the room was tense but expectant.

"Let's have that chat right now" 

Lee said, his voice steady but carrying a sense of urgency. 

"You, me, Shawn, Kenny, and Natasha. Just us."

His words were clear, but their weight lingered. Lee had a vision for making this place more than just a refuge—it needed to be sustainable, and defensible. Yet, he knew the truth: improving it came with risks. Safety alone wasn't enough; it was fragile, temporary. Without preparation, safety could be stripped away in an instant, leaving people vulnerable. He understood that true survival meant readiness, even if it meant tough decisions and hard truths.

Hershel gave a slow nod, his gaze firm but unreadable, and the group moved toward Shawn's room. Since Shawn's leg was swollen and he couldn't walk without risk of further injury, the meeting would take place there.

Inside, the room was modest but warm, illuminated by the soft, diffused light of the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains. Shawn was propped up on the bed, his face pale but showing signs of improvement after hours of rest. He stirred when the group entered, attempting to sit up, but Hershel quickly moved to his side.

"Easy now" 

Hershel said gently, placing a firm but caring hand on his son's shoulder. With careful movements, he helped Shawn lean back against the bed's sturdy vertical plank for support.

Lee, Natasha, and Kenny each pulled a nearby chair closer, settling into the small circle forming around Shawn's bed. Hershel sat beside his son, his posture stiff but protective, as though shielding Shawn from anything more that might disrupt his recovery.

The room grew quiet, save for the faint rustling of the trees outside the window. Each person carried their own unspoken thoughts, and their individual reasons for being part of this gathering. Lee looked around, taking in their faces. Whatever came next would require honesty, strategy, and the willingness to confront uncomfortable realities. This wasn't just a conversation—it was the first step in shaping their future.

"So, what's the occasion? Am I getting put down?" 

Shawn quipped, his voice tinged with forced humor as he tried to lighten the mood. He expected at least a chuckle, maybe a sarcastic remark from his father. Instead, the room fell into an unsettling silence.

The lack of response hit him harder than he anticipated. He shifted uncomfortably, glancing at his father with wide, searching eyes. The fear crept in—was his injury worse than they were letting on? Hershel's face betrayed nothing, his expression steady and unreadable, which only deepened Shawn's unease.

Shawn's heart began to race. 

"Dad?" 

He asked quietly, his voice almost pleading, hoping for reassurance that didn't come.

Then, out of nowhere, Kenny burst into laughter, a loud, unrestrained sound that echoed through the room. The tension shattered like glass. Natasha followed, covering her mouth as she chuckled. Lee smirked, shaking his head, before he, too, joined in. Even Hershel's stoic demeanor cracked, a low rumble of laughter escaping him.

It dawned on Shawn that they were all messing with him, playing along with his joke in their own way. The realization hit, and his fear melted into relief. He blinked, then let out a sheepish laugh that quickly grew into something genuine.

"Really? You guys couldn't let me off the hook?" 

Shawn said, grinning now as the laughter spread through the room like wildfire.

In that moment, the heaviness that had settled over them lifted, if only briefly. The laughter was a small rebellion against the fear and uncertainty that had loomed over their lives. For a while, the seriousness of the meeting and the dangers they faced faded into the background.

It was a rare moment of levity, a shared bond that reminded them all that even in the bleakest times, there was still room for a little light.

"So, the reason we're gathered here is to talk about our future" 

Lee began, his voice steady but firm. He glanced at Shawn, the trace of a smile still lingering as he held back his laughter from the earlier exchange. The room quieted, all eyes on him.

"I think we should stay here for a day or two" 

Lee continued, pausing for effect. 

"and then start preparing to leave."

The words hung in the air like a sudden chill.

"What…? Lee, you can't be serious" 

Shawn was the first to react, his voice tinged with disbelief. He sat up straighter, wincing slightly as he shifted his injured leg. 

"This place is away from all the chaos—it's the safest place to live. Don't you think making this place even safer is the better option?"

Natasha nodded subtly in agreement but kept silent, her expression mirroring Shawn's concerns. It was clear she shared his sentiment, though she let him speak for both of them.

Lee's gaze didn't waver. 

"Yes, it's safer" 

He admitted, his tone calm but firm.

"but for how long?"

He paused, letting the question sink in before continuing. 

"We can make it safer, sure. Reinforce the fences, and build up supplies—but what happens when a huge group of walkers shows up? They'll break through eventually. And when they do, they'll destroy everything. This place won't stand a chance. It's inevitable. Walkers are drawn to people. We'll make mistakes—leave behind a trail, make a noise—something that leads them right to us."

Lee rose from his chair, the wood scraping softly against the floor. He stood tall, his voice gaining strength as he looked each of them in the eye. His determination was palpable, his words filled with conviction.

"Waiting here is just waiting for death to find us. But if we leave—if we go out there and face the challenges head-on—we have a chance. Out there, somewhere, is a place that's truly safe, a place that a herd can't tear down. I know it exists. We just have to find it."

The room fell silent again, but this time, the weight wasn't fear—it was the gravity of Lee's words. He wasn't just offering an opinion; he was presenting a choice, a path forward that demanded courage. His eyes moved from one person to the next, making sure they saw the fire in his gaze, the sheer determination to survive and protect those around him.

This wasn't an easy decision, but Lee made it clear: staying here meant waiting to be overrun. Leaving meant hope—dangerous, uncertain hope—but hope nonetheless.

"I trust you."

The words came unexpectedly, cutting through the silence like a sharp blade. Shawn's voice, steady but earnest, drew every eye in the room. His declaration surprised them all, including Lee.

"You've brought us to safety"

Shawn continued, his gaze fixed on Lee. 

"You've led us through that hell which was once called Atlanta and back, and you saved my life—not once, but twice. I'm ready." 

He glanced down at his injured leg with a faint smirk. 

"I mean, not right now, but by the time this leg feels good, we'll go. We still have a race pending, after all."

A ripple of smiles spread through the room. Even Hershel allowed a small, approving nod at his son's words. Kenny chuckled softly, his usual grin reappearing, and Natasha offered a polite smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Despite the outward agreement, Natasha's unease lingered. Her thoughts were clouded by the weight of responsibility she carried. Taking this path meant uprooting her daughter, Sandra, and Clementine—the little girl whose safety now rested heavily on her shoulders. Could she risk it? Could she expose them to the dangers outside this farm, even with Lee's promise of something better?

Lee noticed her hesitation, the tension in her posture, and the flicker of doubt in her eyes. Without saying a word, he nodded toward her, signaling her to step outside for a private talk.

Natasha hesitated for a moment but then rose to follow him, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions. As the two stepped into the hallway, the rest of the group remained behind, the faint hum of whispered conversation filling the room once more.

Lee turned to face Natasha, his expression calm but concerned. He knew this decision wasn't easy for her. And now, it was time to address her fears head-on.

Lee and Natasha stepped outside, the fresh air carrying with it the faint scent of hay and earth. The soft rustle of leaves in the distance mixed with the occasional shuffle of horses in the stables. They walked slowly, side by side, their footsteps muffled by the dirt path.

"I understand your worry" 

Lee began, breaking the silence. His voice was steady, but there was a softness to it that conveyed genuine empathy. He turned to look at Natasha, his gaze steady and reassuring. 

"So I'll be more honest with you than I was with them."

Natasha glanced at him, her brows furrowed in a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Lee took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. 

"The main reason for leaving isn't just about avoiding walkers or finding a stronger safehouse. It's about preparation—about giving us all a chance to live, not just survive. And, more importantly, it's about the kids."

He paused, watching her expression shift. 

"You've seen it yourself—how the little ones with us are growing up in all this horror. Clementine, Carl, and Duck… they're just kids. They should be worrying about school and friends, not learning to survive against walkers."

Natasha tilted her head slightly, confusion flashing across her face at the name. "Duck?" she asked hesitantly.

Lee chuckled lightly, sensing her uncertainty. 

"Duck is Kenny's boy" 

He clarified. 

"It's a nickname. His real name's Kenny Jr., but you'll never hear anyone call him that—not even his parents."

Natasha's lips twitched into a faint smile, though her worry didn't fully fade. Lee continued, his tone becoming more earnest.

"They're watching everything we do, Natasha. Every decision, every mistake—it shapes how they see the world. Staying here might feel safe for now, but if this place falls… what will that teach them? That no matter what, we can't protect them? I don't want Clementine to grow up believing survival is hopeless. I want her to see that we fight, that we adapt, and that we can still find a future worth living for."

Lee stopped walking, turning to face her fully. "I know it's hard. You've got Sandra, and you're looking out for Clem, too. But I need you to trust me. Leaving is our best chance—not just for us, but for them. We have to teach them there's more to life than just running from danger. We have to show them there's something better out there."

Natasha looked away, her eyes fixed on the stables as she processed his words. The weight of her responsibility bore down on her, but Lee's determination was undeniable. She could see it in his eyes—the fire, the hope, and the belief that they could overcome whatever came next.

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