The Walking Dead : Lee Everett

Lee stepped out of the barn, the creak of the wooden door echoing faintly in the quiet. He pulled it shut behind him, his hand lingering on the weathered handle for a moment. As he started down the path, he tipped his head slightly in acknowledgment to his brother, standing a few feet away, and then toward the group of women gathered near the stairs leading up to the house. They stood close together, their hushed voices blending into a murmur that carried on the gentle breeze.

His strides were purposeful as he made his way to where his father and Shawn's father, Hershel Greene, were deep in conversation. The two older men stood near the edge of the porch, their postures tense and their faces marked by the weight of the moment. 

Lee's thoughts churned as he approached. Much hinged on Hershel's reaction—how he would process the situation and the choices before him. His involvement could either be the key to saving lives or the catalyst that endangered everyone. The responsibility pressed heavily on Lee's chest, each step toward the men feeling heavier than the last. These weren't simple decisions; they were choices that carried the weight of life and death, where one misstep could mean the end for a few—or perhaps many. It was a burden he couldn't escape, and one he wasn't sure he was ready to bear.

Lee shook off the grim thoughts clouding his mind, forcing himself to focus on the scene ahead. His father and Hershel stood near the stables, their voices carrying faintly on the breeze as they chatted about horses and barn work. The stable itself was modest but sturdy, with weathered planks and the earthy scent of hay mingling with the occasional snort or shuffle from the two horses within.

As Lee approached, he straightened his posture, his footsteps firm but unhurried. When he reached them, he greeted both men with a warm but measured tone, a gesture of respect and gratitude. His gaze lingered on Hershel for a moment, the weight of unspoken thanks evident in his expression. The shelter Hershel had offered wasn't just a roof over their heads—it was a lifeline, a fragile beacon of safety in a world turned on its head.

"Father, I'd like to have a word with Mr. Greene in private, if you don't mind," Lee said, his voice steady but laced with a hint of hesitation. 

His father glanced at him, a knowing look in his eyes. "Go ahead. I was just about to check on that boy anyway," he replied, his tone casual but tinged with concern. He gave Lee a reassuring pat on the shoulder before turning his attention toward the fence line. 

Carl stood there with Clementine, the two kids leaning against the wooden rails, their small forms silhouetted against the stable's backdrop. They were watching the horses with wide-eyed wonder, their quiet chatter a clear attempt to distract themselves from the heaviness surrounding them. 

Lee's father gave one last glance back before heading toward the children, leaving Lee and Hershel alone. The air between the two men grew heavier, the silence stretching as they regarded each other. Hershel's expression was unreadable, his weathered face lined with both age and the burdens of the present. Lee squared his shoulders, preparing himself for the conversation ahead.

"I didn't see Shawn around" 

Lee began, his tone light and conversational, carefully treading into the conversation. He didn't want to overwhelm the older man, knowing full well the weight he was already carrying. 

Hershel let out a dry chuckle, the faintest hint of sarcasm threading his voice. 

"He's in the back. Says he's 'fortifying' the fence and all" 

He replied, shaking his head slightly. 

Lee allowed a small smile to cross his lips. 

"That's smart, actually" 

He said, the praise was genuine but measured. 

Hershel's expression shifted, a shadow of seriousness crossing his face. 

"My boy told me you saved him" 

He said, his voice quieter now but carrying a weight that couldn't be ignored. 

"I'm grateful for that... but don't go filling his head with things that don't exist." 

The older man placed a calloused hand on the fence, his gaze locking with Lee's. There was a warning in his eyes, firm yet not unkind—a father's protective instinct laid bare. 

Lee stood his ground, his expression calm and unreadable. He didn't interrupt, didn't react; instead, he kept his eyes on Hershel, letting the man have his moment.

'This is going to be tough'

Lee thought, bracing himself. 

"Mr. Greene" 

He began, his tone steady but with an undercurrent of urgency. 

"I haven't put anything into Shawn's head. Everything I, my family, Natasha's family, that kid, Clementine, Shawn, and his friend Chet—all of us—saw... it's what we're all believing now. I don't need to plant ideas in their minds. It's already out there, in this world, and we're all a part of it now. The sooner one accepts this reality, the better it'll be for them—and for their families." 

As he spoke, Lee reached out and placed his hand on the fence, mirroring Hershel's stance. He wasn't just stating facts; he was trying to bridge the gap between them, to make the man see reason. 

Hershel's frown deepened, lines forming on his face as he fixed Lee with a hard look. 

"So, are you saying I'm delusional and not all of you?" 

He shot back, his voice edged with irritation. 

Lee shook his head, his expression calm but solemn. 

"No, you're not delusional" 

He replied. 

"Just like me, you've lived a normal life—probably for longer than I have. But while you might've had that same experience last night, we lived an entirely different one." 

He paused, letting the words sink in before continuing. 

"You say you're grateful that I saved your son..... But there was another man with him who saved him too. Except he didn't make it. His name was Chet. I think you know him. He saved Shawn, but he died doing it. If someone giving their life to protect your boy doesn't convince you of the reality we're facing... I don't know what will." 

Lee's voice wavered slightly at the end, the sorrow behind his words creeping to the surface. He managed a faint, pained smile as he finished, the weight of the truth heavy in his chest. Hershel's eyes lingered on him, the silence between them now more charged than ever.

"What's the point in explaining this to me?" 

Hershel muttered, his tone edged with frustration. 

"Shawn's a grown man; he can make his own choices. What I think doesn't matt-" 

He waved a hand dismissively, his eyes briefly darting toward the stable as if to shift the weight of the conversation away from himself. 

"It does matter" 

Lee interjected firmly, his voice steady but not confrontational. 

"He looks up to you, Mr. Greene. You're his father—his anchor. And one day, he might find himself in trouble with those... things. He might need you, your help, your decisiveness. But hesitation—just a moment's doubt—could cost you something you can't take back." 

Lee's gaze was unyielding as he spoke, his words carrying both urgency and a quiet plea. He wasn't just trying to convince Hershel; he was trying to prepare him. The weight of what Lee had seen, what he knew was coming, was etched in his expression. 

Hershel's lips pressed into a thin line, his grip tightening on the fence as he mulled over Lee's words.

His voice was firm with urgency. 

"Mr. Greene, I need to say this—this barn is a good place, but those fences? They won't hold against a herd. It's only a matter of time before something worse happens. Leaving this place might be the hardest decision, but it's the smart one." 

He was just about to explain the reality of how Walkers could overwhelm the farm when a piercing scream ripped through the air. 

"AHHH! Help!" 

The desperate cry froze Lee for only a split second before he sprang into action. He didn't wait, didn't think—he just ran, heading straight for the back of the house where the sound had come from. Behind him, the urgency spread like wildfire. Hershel turned on his heel, disappearing inside the house to grab his shotgun. Natasha, seated with the other women, leaped to her feet and yanked a pistol from behind her back. Without hesitation, she followed Lee, her footsteps quick and deliberate. 

As Lee rounded the corner of the house, his heart sank at the sight before him. Near the fence, the chaos was unfolding, a grim echo of what had happened before. Shawn was trapped, pinned down by a tractor that had stalled in place. The Walkers were closing in, their grotesque forms stumbling ever closer. 

On the tractor sat a frightened kid, frozen in terror, his wide eyes darting between Shawn and the approaching Walkers. Nearby, a man wearing a cap seemed to be hesitating, seemingly torn between saving Shawn or his Kid. But then, the man made his decision, suddenly moving toward the kid on the tractor. 

Lee didn't have time to shout a warning or wait for backup. He pulled out his gun, steadying himself as he took aim. His finger squeezed the trigger with precision, the crack of the shots splitting the air. 

*Bang!*

The first Walker dropped.

*Bang!* 

Another fell, its flesh collapsing just feet away from the kid. 

*Bang! Bang!* 

Two more went down in quick succession, Lee's aim impeccable even from a distance. 

He lowered the gun slightly, his eyes scanning for more threats. His shooting had been fast, accurate, and unrelenting, taking out four of the closest Walkers before they could reach the kid or the man in the cap. 

Hershel emerged from the back door, shotgun in hand, just in time to see the final shot hit its mark. Natasha stood beside him, her gun raised and ready, her eyes darting to assess the situation. 

From the windows of the house, two of the women peered out, their faces pale with fear as they saw their Big Brother stucked under the tractor's tire and some gruesome-looking people trying to bite him got shot, Near the fence of the stables, the women who had been watching over the kids huddled protectively around them, trying to shield them from the grisly sight. 

Lee's sharp shooting had bought them precious seconds.

Lee didn't stop to catch his breath; he broke into a sprint again, his focus entirely on reaching Shawn. Seeing him take off, Hershel followed, his shotgun still in hand, his boots thudding heavily against the ground. 

By the time Lee arrived, the man with the cap had already started pushing against the tractor, desperately trying to free Shawn's leg. The machine barely budged, its weight resisting every ounce of effort. 

Hershel joined in, grunting as he pushed with all his strength, but it wasn't enough. Just as frustration began to mount, Lee stepped in. Planting his hands firmly against the tractor, he leaned into the effort. 

"On three!" 

Lee shouted. 

"One... two... three!" 

With a collective heave, the tractor shifted, almost as if it had suddenly become weightless. To Hershel, the difference was startling. What had seemed immovable moments before now rolled away with surprising ease, as though it were nothing more than a log. 

Shawn groaned as the weight was lifted off him, his eyes darting between Lee and his leg. 

"Ah... is my leg alright?" 

He asked, wincing but managing a weak smile despite the tension. 

Lee crouched beside him, his sharp eyes scanning Shawn's leg for any serious damage. 

"Yeah, it's fine" 

He said, his voice steady and reassuring. 

"We'll have a race soon, don't worry." 

Shawn blinked in surprise, then chuckled faintly, the humor a welcome reprieve from the chaos around them. Despite the pain, he couldn't help but think back to the earlier moments—the precision of Lee's shooting, the speed with which he'd acted. In the midst of all this, having Lee here felt like a lifeline.

Lee flashed a reassuring smile, his hand gripping Shawn's shoulder as he gently helped the injured boy to his feet.

Shawn winced with every step, his limp slowing him down, but Lee's steadying presence made it easier. Without a word, Lee took the weight off Shawn's injured leg, offering him his shoulder to lean on. Together, they made their way toward the house.

The walk was slow but steady, the heavy weight of the situation pressing down on them. Lee guided Shawn through the door and toward his room, carefully avoiding the clutter in the hallway. When they reached the bed, Lee gently helped Shawn sit down, making sure he was comfortable before stepping back.

Just as Lee turned to leave, Hershel appeared in the doorway, flanked by several of the women who had been keeping watch over the kids. They were all silent, their eyes flicking between Lee and Shawn, gauging the situation.

Moments later, Lee's father and his brother arrived, both of them looking concerned but not entirely surprised. The air in the room was thick with unspoken questions, but for a moment, there was nothing but the soft rustling of footsteps and the faint sound of the wind outside.

Lee stood there for a moment, his gaze lingering on Shawn. 

"He's going to be alright" 

He said, his tone firm, offering reassurance to everyone in the room, though the weight of their reality still hung heavily in the air.

Many of the women moved toward Shawn, those Lee didn't recognize stepping closer, their concern evident as they gathered around him. The women he knew, however, remained near the door, their eyes flicking between Shawn and the others, offering quiet support from a distance. Hershel, his face etched with worry, moved to his son's side, gently clutching his hand. His voice was soft but filled with urgency as he asked about Shawn's well-being. The three other women near Shawn mirrored his actions, their hands resting on his arm or shoulder, speaking words of comfort and checking on him with quiet urgency. The room was thick with the weight of their collective concern.

Lee stepped outside, the cool air hitting his face as he walked with the others, leaving Shawn and his family to their moment of privacy. The weight of the day hung heavily on him—too much chaos, too much fear, all in the span of a few hours. As he looked out at the distant horizon, uncertainty gnawed at him. He wasn't sure if this was the end of their troubles or just the beginning.

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