The Walking Dead : Lee Everett

After an hour of drills and careful guidance, Lee decided to take a break. His mind weighed heavy with the reality of leaving the farm. As he walked toward the barn, a figure suddenly appeared before him on horseback. Lee halted, raising an eyebrow as he recognized the rider.

It was Maggie.

The horse's hooves clopped against the dirt as Maggie steered the animal toward him. She let the horse slow to a trot and then stopped right in front of Lee.

"Since we're leaving, I wanted to go down the road for medicines" 

Maggie said, her voice light but carrying a hint of mischief. 

"There's a medical shop down there. Wanna come along, Old Man?"

Lee couldn't help but smirk at her tone. 

"I'll have you know that I'm just 23 years old."

Maggie raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. 

"A divorcee, at 23?" 

She teased, her grin widening.

Lee chuckled, trying to brush off her banter. 

"Yeah, that's true. But it's a long story. Anyway, let's go to that shop."

Maggie shifted in her saddle, her eyes glinting with humor. 

"I'll get you a horse."

Lee raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the suggestion. 

"Why the horse? Can't we take the car?"

Maggie's grin deepened, mischief dancing in her eyes. 

"Why? Are you scared of horses?"

Not wanting to engage any further in Maggie's playful teasing, Lee cut it short with a simple motion toward the barn. He gestured for her to grab the horses while he followed behind. His patience was wearing thin, but he didn't voice his irritation. It wasn't a big deal, after all. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that Maggie's light-heartedness was her way of coping with the uncertainty ahead. He suspected this would likely be their last day in what felt like a 'safe' place, and she was probably savoring the fleeting moments before everything changed.

Lee and Maggie rode side by side, each atop their own horse, The two of them shared the same silence, but there was an unspoken tension that seemed to stretch between them, thick with unasked questions and uncertainty.

It was Maggie who finally broke the quiet, her voice soft but laced with concern. 

"Are you sure?"

Her words hung in the air, the weight of them pressing on Lee. She wasn't just asking about the decision—they both knew that. Maggie's eyes flickered toward him as their horses moved slowly, the distance between them closing just enough for Lee to catch the edge of her apprehension. He could feel the fear in her voice, the same fear that had haunted him for days, maybe even longer.

Lee took a slow breath, his gaze fixed ahead, eyes narrowed against the horizon. 

"No" 

He admitted, his voice quiet but firm. 

"But staying here isn't a guarantee either."

He shifted in his saddle, the worn leather creaking under the movement. His heart felt heavy as he spoke, a deep, gut-wrenching knowledge settling in his chest. They both knew the barn wouldn't be a sanctuary forever. No place would.

"Are you sure this place will stand strong against walkers?" 

Lee continued, the words falling from his lips like stones, heavy with truth. 

"Even the safest walls can't keep them out forever. Sooner or later, they'll breach, and we'll be right where we started, trapped and out of options."

He paused, the sound of the horses' hooves in the dirt filling the space between them. It wasn't an easy thing to say, but Lee knew it had to be said. He had been wrestling with this decision, and even now, his words felt like a risk, like he was stepping into the unknown with every sentence.

"I didn't just decide to leave on a whim" 

He added, the words coming with more conviction now. 

"The thing is, I don't see any place out there that's safe. Not with the walkers, not with other people. No one can promise us a perfect place to hide."

The wind picked up slightly, rustling through the trees along the road. Lee let the breeze cool his face for a moment before he turned his eyes toward Maggie, his expression intense, yet sincere. 

"But if we face the world head-on—if we learn to survive without walls around us—maybe, just maybe, we'll be able to handle whatever comes next. We might even be able to stand our ground when the world comes crashing down."

His voice softened, his gaze shifting forward as he spoke, like he was trying to convince himself just as much as Maggie. 

"I know it sounds intense. Hell, it scares me, too. But the truth is, everything has changed. And pretending that staying here will keep us safe, that we can avoid what's out there, isn't going to work. We have to face reality, Maggie. And when we do, when we embrace it... we'll grow stronger. That's all I'm asking—let's not run from it. Let's meet it head-on, together."

Maggie was quiet for a long moment, the wind carrying away her hesitation as she mulled over Lee's words. Lee didn't need to hear her answer—he could see the thoughts playing across her face, the battle between fear and the pull of survival.

Maggie's mind shifted as Lee's words sank in. At first, she had resisted the idea of leaving the farm, clinging to the safety of its fences. But now, she saw the truth in his logic. The world they knew was gone, and hiding behind walls wouldn't protect them forever.

Beth's fragile face appeared in her mind, the 16-year-old so unprepared for this harsh world. Maggie had always wanted to shield her, but the reality was that Beth, like everyone else, needed to learn how to survive outside these walls. If they stayed sheltered, they'd only be postponing the inevitable. They needed to face the world and grow stronger.

Maggie tightened her grip on the reins, her thoughts still on Beth. Staying here meant risking their future. Lee's plan wasn't just about survival; it was about giving them the chance to live and adapt in a world that demanded strength. 

"I see it now" 

Maggie whispered, her voice steady. She met Lee's gaze. 

"It's not about protecting them by keeping them inside. It's about teaching them how to stand on their own."

Lee nodded, his understanding clear. They were moving forward together, ready to face the challenges ahead—for Beth, for all of them.

For now, all they had to do was reach the medical store, a short distance away. After a quiet ride, Maggie and Lee arrived at the building. They tied the horses nearby and made their way inside. Lee was the first to enter, his gun held firmly in hand, his eyes scanning the dim interior, prepared to react at the slightest hint of danger.

The shop was eerily quiet. Lee took a slow look around, ensuring no immediate threats were nearby. Satisfied, he lowered his weapon slightly. Maggie, already in motion, began collecting medical supplies and storing them carefully in the bag she had brought. She checked each item—bandages, disinfectants, anything that could be of use—and added them inside of her bag with precision.

Lee also began gathering supplies, though his movements were more deliberate. He made sure Maggie couldn't see him adding the supplies to his Inventory. There was no way he was leaving anything behind—he knew better than anyone that even the smallest items could make a difference in the future.

He stood up from the shelf, ready to move, when he suddenly realized Maggie had stepped right in front of him. She was closer than expected, her gaze locked on his, as if searching for something he couldn't quite place.

"What happened?" Lee asked, his voice low, his brow furrowing at the intensity in her eyes.

Maggie didn't move, and her expression was unreadable. Then, without warning, she spoke, her words carrying a weight that caught Lee off guard. 

"You see, this whole thing is messing with my head. Want to... Fuck?"

Lee was taken aback by Maggie's advance. It wasn't subtle—her words carried a raw honesty that left no room for misunderstanding. She stood close, her gaze unwavering, her voice low and deliberate. There was no coyness, no pretense; Maggie was being direct, almost disarmingly so.

Lee understood the meaning behind her actions, though. This wasn't about love or infatuation. It was about something far more primal and immediate: loneliness. In a world stripped of normalcy, where death loomed over every moment, Maggie sought a connection, a reminder of life's fleeting warmth. She wanted to feel something, anything, that could push back the void for even a little while.

He hesitated, his mind racing. He knew why she'd chosen him. As the de facto leader of their group, Lee had become a pillar of strength amid the chaos. He made the plans, took control of situations, and kept everyone moving forward when despair threatened to paralyze them. He had saved her brother, a gesture that had earned him Maggie's trust—and perhaps more than that. In her eyes, he was dependable, steady, and capable. The qualities that made him a leader also made him, in her mind, the best choice for comfort.

But Lee also knew the weight of his position. The decisions he made rippled through the group, affecting every fragile relationship and tenuous alliance. His actions carried consequences far beyond the moment, and he couldn't afford to act on impulse, no matter how tempting it might be to forget the world's horrors for a while.

"Maggie…" he began, his voice gentle but firm. He searched for the right words, wanting to acknowledge her feelings without encouraging something he wasn't sure he could commit to. "I get it. I do. You've been through so much—more than anyone should have to handle. And I know it's lonely out here. It's… hard. For all of us."

She looked at him, her expression a mix of vulnerability and defiance, as if bracing herself for rejection but unwilling to regret taking the risk. "I'm tired of feeling numb, Lee," she said quietly. "I just need… something real. Something that makes me feel alive."

Her words hit him harder than he expected. He knew that feeling all too well—the desperate need to grasp onto something human in a world that seemed determined to strip it away.

As he watched his girlfriend and the man he had once believed to be his father, a deep ache of regret filled his chest. The pain of leaving them behind in a world that continued without him was almost unbearable, a bitter reminder of his absence in their lives.

His girlfriend, who had loved him so deeply, was now left alone. He had loved her just as much, and the time they shared had been his greatest motivation in life. Her presence had driven him to push forward, striving to improve himself and build a life of comfort and luxury they could share together.

Now, in this moment, he was consumed by a profound loneliness—a hollow ache that mirrored the emptiness she must be feeling without him.

Lee's gaze lingered on Maggie, his thoughts churning with unspoken emotions. The dim light softened her features, but the intensity in her eyes held his attention, grounding him in the moment. A flicker of hesitation passed through him, but he pushed it aside, letting determination take its place.

His voice was low but clear, carrying a weight that made the air feel heavier between them. "Do you have condoms?" he asked, his words deliberate, the question hanging in the air like an unspoken promise."

"Totally do," Maggie replied with a teasing grin, holding up a small box she'd found among the disorganized shelves of the medical store.

The dim, flickering light overhead cast shadows on the dusty shelves, highlighting the bright packaging in her hand. She gave it a little shake, the crinkling sound cutting through the stillness of the room, her playful confidence easing the tension that had been building between them.

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At the farm, a heavy silence lingered as everyone prepared for the uncertain journey ahead, and even though they knew it was necessary, it was still a hard pill to swallow. Hershel stood by the barn, gently gathering a handful of seeds, each one representing a hope that, maybe one day, he could grow something like this again—something that felt like home. His connection to this land ran deep, but he knew that leaving it behind was no longer a choice. His heart ached, but the survival of his family had to come first.

The others had packed their belongings and were ready, all waiting for Lee, waiting for his final decision on when to set out. Time passed slowly, the tension thick in the air. Then, in the distance, the rumble of engines broke the stillness. Two vehicles—Kenny's truck, Otis's van, and Lee's younger brother—pulled into the barnyard. They'd gone out on a fuel run, and as they emerged from the vehicles, grins of success stretched across their faces. They carried a can of fuel, a small victory in a world where every drop of gasoline felt like a lifeline.

Beth, who had been quietly observing, turned her gaze to her father, noticing the lone horse still in the stable. The others had been taken by Lee and Maggie, but this one remained, a symbol of the life they were leaving behind. With a furrowed brow, she asked the question that had been on everyone's mind.

"How are we going to move the horses?" 

She asked, her voice tinged with worry. The old farm, the animals, and the sense of familiarity all felt like things they were about to lose forever.

Hershel, standing tall but visibly weary, gave a heavy sigh. The weight of the situation pressed down on him, but he had learned to make tough decisions for the sake of survival. He looked at the horse in the stable one last time before answering, his words deliberate. 

"We won't," He said quietly. 

"There's not enough space for them. I'll release them tomorrow morning."

The decision hung in the air, and though Hershel had never been one to take such drastic measures, he knew it was necessary. The farm had given them so much, but now, leaving it behind meant making choices that felt wrong on every level. The animals, the land, the life they had built here—it all felt like a distant memory already. And yet, Hershel knew it was for the greater good. These were the kinds of tough choices survival demanded, and he was beginning to adapt to a world where the lines between right and wrong were no longer so clear.

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