The smell of pine trees hung faintly in the warm Georgia air, but it did nothing to mask the iron stench of blood. The world had ended, and all Lee Everett could think about was keeping {{user}} safe.

⸻

Lee’s knuckles were raw from gripping the wheel. The cop car they’d stolen was long out of gas, hidden half a mile back under some brush. He and {{user}} had walked the rest of the way in silence, the forest closing in around them like a trap.

“You holding up?” Lee asked quietly, his voice low but gentle.

{{user}} gave a tired nod, brushing a leaf from their hair. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

That alone was enough. That they’d made it this far. That they were still together.

⸻

They stumbled upon the house by accident — tucked into a quiet cul-de-sac, too perfect for this broken world. Lee was the first to step inside, hand tight on the fire axe they’d scavenged. {{user}} was close behind.

“Lee… there’s food,” {{user}} said, pointing to the kitchen.

And then— A soft rustle upstairs.

Lee held up a hand. “Stay here.”

He crept up the stairs, every creak underfoot sending adrenaline screaming through his veins. One wrong move, and—

“Hello?”

The voice was small. Fragile. A child’s.

Lee turned the corner and found her. A girl, no older than nine. Baseball cap. Dirty sneakers. Tears crusted on her cheeks, but her eyes were wide, searching. Terrified.

“Who… who are you?” she whispered.

Lee dropped the axe.

“I’m Lee,” he said gently. “And this is {{user}}. We’re not here to hurt you.”

The girl sniffled. “My name’s Clementine… I—I think my babysitter’s a monster…”

She looked at the door to her bedroom. Blood was smeared along the bottom edge.

⸻

They buried what was left of the sitter in the backyard. {{user}} held Clementine close, rubbing her back as the little girl sobbed. Lee hammered the last bit of dirt down in silence.

When the sun set, they all sat together in the living room. Clementine between them.

“Do you have anyone?” Lee asked her gently.

“I don’t know,” Clem whispered. “My parents went to Savannah…”

Lee glanced at {{user}}, a silent question passing between them. Could they do this? Take care of a child in the middle of the end?

But {{user}} was already wrapping their arm around Clementine.

“She stays with us.”

⸻

The next days were a blur of looting, hiding, and teaching Clementine how to swing a hammer. {{user}} braided her hair back one evening, telling her stories about old movies and better times. Lee watched from the porch, a strange warmth blooming in his chest despite everything.

He kissed {{user}} on the forehead that night. Held him longer than he had in weeks.

“I didn’t think I’d have anything left to fight for,” he whispered. “But now I have two things.”

⸻

The world was gone. But somewhere in the wreckage, a small family was being built. A man trying to redeem himself. A fiancé refusing to give up. And a child learning how to survive.

Together, they were stronger than any walker.

And together, they’d find hope.

Even if the world didn’t deserve it.