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Chapter Text

MAY 29TH

2013

The first thing Tony noticed when he walked through the front door was the sight of his wife and daughter on the couch, the latter asleep with her head in her mother’s lap.

The house was much more peaceful than the hell he’d just endured for the day. Sometimes, being the CEO was not worth it. He didn’t think he’d fired so many people in one day.

“Rhodey, listen to me.” Tony sighed, rubbing his tired eyes as he closed and locked the door behind him. He lowered his voice in the hopes that he wouldn’t wake Morgan from her peaceful slumber, a small smile breaking his frown as he observed his little family. “It’s all handled, there’s nothing to worry about.”

As he spoke, he sent a questioning look to Pepper and nodded in their daughter’s direction. Pepper just rolled her eyes, the look on her face fond. None of Tony’s questions were answered, but he allowed it as he concentrated on his phone call with Rhodey.

“Nothing to worry about?!” Rhodey sounded just as exhausted as him. “You fired-”

“Let’s talk about this in the morning, okay?”

“But, Tones-”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. I promise.”

“Alright.” Rhodey relented, and even he sounded relieved that their heated conversation had come to an end. “Tell the girls goodnight for me.”

“‘Course.” As Tony approached, Morgan started to stir, then let out a small yawn. “Goodnight.”

Rhodey repeated the sentiment and ended the call shortly after. Tony let out another exhausted sigh and dumped his keys and phone on the coffee table without care and turned his attention to Pepper and Morgan. Morgan was in the middle of sitting up, a bright smile lighting up her face when she looked at him.

At the sight of his daughter and his pregnant wife, Tony felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Hey!” The eight-year-old chirped, suddenly very aware for someone who had just been asleep. “Scoot.”

Morgan did as she was told, happily tucking her legs under her to allow Tony to sit down. Pepper watched him the entire time, worry hidden in her eyes as she did so.

“Fun day at work?” His wife asked, reaching over the couch behind Morgan to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder. Tony rested his hand on top of hers for a moment and squeezed, allowing some of the day’s stress to properly escape his body. “I heard some people got fired?”

“Fun’s not the word I would use. Let’s not talk about that right now.” The last thing Tony wanted to do was repeat his conversation with Rhodey. There had been a lot of worry involved, and Pepper being Pepper… he would get a tongue lashing. “Let’s talk about you instead, little miss. What are you still doing up? It’s late.”

At this, Morgan blanched.

“Wait, what time is it?!” The girl spun around to peer at the clock above them.

“Way past your bed time.”

“But it’s still today.” Morgan’s expression was mischievous as got to her feet and ran around Pepper’s side of the couch. Tony watched on, curious, but exhausted. Pepper regarded him with a gentle smile, her hand resting on her stomach. Morgan jumped back onto the couch and thrust a small box at him. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Tony took the box and shook it a little.



“Your birthday.”

Right, it was his birthday. He’d completely forgotten in the mess that was his day.

“She’s very proud. Aren’t you, Mo?”

“Yeah, so hurry up and open it, Dad!”

Pepper ran a hand through her daughter’s hair. For a moment, Tony was captivated by his wife’s beauty. She was glowing, her eyes shining with just as much love as Tony felt. When Morgan started to shift impatiently, Tony snapped out of his daze and started to open the box.

Inside was a sleek, polished and strikingly familiar looking watch. Tony stared at it, and it was almost like a punch in the gut when he realised it was his Uncle Jarvis’ old watch.

His chest constricted with grief as he stared at it. It was in great condition, far better than it had been the last time he’d taken it out, the anniversary of Jarvis’ death. Before, the arms no longer worked and the glass had been cracked. Now, it looked just as it had when his uncle used to wear it.

It was coming up on ten years since Jarvis had passed away, yet it still felt like yesterday. The man was a father to him more than Howard ever was.

“You kept complaining about your broken watch.” Morgan began, and Tony could feel her watchful gaze on his face. “So Mommy and I went out to fix it. Do you like it?”

Unwilling to cry in front of his daughter, Tony held in his tears and started to tap the watch face.

“Honey, this is…” Tony shook his wrist while Morgan sat up with alarm beside him. “This is really nice, but, I think it’s stuck, it’s not…”

“No, no, no!” Morgan grabbed and pulled his wrist towards her, then groaned and glared at him. She slumped back against Pepper, who laid an arm over her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. In a very Stark-like fashion, Morgan scowled. “Oh, ha ha.”

“Tony.” Pepper slapped his shoulder playfully while rolling her eyes. “Don’t be mean.”

“Mean? Me? As if.” Tony ran his thumb over the watch face that had once been broken. Emotion swelled up once again in his chest as he thought of Jarvis. “I love it, Morgan. Thank you.”

Scowl immediately forgotten, Morgan beamed up at him.

The room quickly fell into silence, aside from the TV playing a movie quietly in the background. Tony found it hard to look away from the watch, wondering what Jarvis would think of the world if he were still here. He could almost imagine what his uncle would say about the virus.

When Tony turned towards his girls, Morgan had fallen back asleep with her face tucked into Pepper’s shoulder and one arm draped around her pregnant belly. The sight was something Tony never wanted to forget as he reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind Morgan’s ear, then rested a hand on Pepper’s stomach.

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s doing great. I’m six months today, Tony.” Pepper was now beaming. “He’s going to be here soon.”

“I can’t believe it.” Tony leant over and kissed Pepper’s cheek. “I love you. Thank you for fixing up Jarvis’ watch.”

“It was really Morgan’s idea, honey. She wanted it to be extra special.” Pepper glanced at their daughter. “She knows it means a lot to you, even if she doesn’t know why. That’s why she stayed up waiting for you to come home. I couldn’t bring myself to say no to her.”

Tony just smiled, a little misty eyed. “I’ll take her up to bed.”

“Alright. I’m going to head up to bed too, meet you there?”

“‘Course.” Tony leant over and gave Pepper a proper kiss this time.

“And, I love you too.” Pepper whispered.

Tony gently picked up his daughter, making sure she stayed asleep as he carried her up the stairs and into her bedroom. However, his efforts were futile as when he laid Morgan down, her eyes opened and she turned to look at him through a sleepy haze.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah?” Tony knelt beside Morgan’s bed and ran a hand through her hair. “What’s up?”

“Tell me a story.”

Tony’s eyebrows raised as he let out a small huff of laughter.

“Fine. Once upon a time Morgan went to bed the end.”

“That is a horrible story.”

“Come on, that’s your favourite story.” Tony leant over and placed a kiss on Morgan’s forehead. “Love you tons, baby girl.”

“I love you three thousand.”

Tony was rendered speechless. Morgan’s eyes had already slipped shut, her face smoothing out as she fell back asleep. Tony remained by her beside for a few more minutes, misty eyes once again, before he finally got up and switched off the lamp. The room became blanketed in darkness, aside from the night light in the opposite corner.

After spending another few minutes watching over his precious daughter, Tony gently closed the door behind him and made his way to the bathroom.

Once he was finished and washing his hands, Tony spotted a newspaper Pepper had left behind on the countertop. He picked it up, eyebrows furrowing at the headline.

300% INCREASE DUE TO MYSTERIOUS INFECTION
ADMITTANCE SPIKES AT LOCAL AREA HOSPITALS!

FDA EXPANDS A LIST OF CONTAMINATED CROPS, MASSIVE RECALLS ANTICIPATED.

The Food and Drug Administration’s investigation of crops potentially tainted with mild continues across the country. Initial lists of distributed to vendors nationwide warned against crops imported from South America. However now the scope has extended to include Central America and Mexico. Several companies have already voluntarily recalled their food products from store shelves. The FDA is expected to release an expanded list of foods under their-

Tony stopped reading and heaved in a deep breath. Before he could put the newspaper down, or throw it in the bathroom’s trash can, another article caught his eye.

POLICE: CRAZED WOMAN KILLED HUSBAND AND 3 OTHERS

An encounter with local law enforcement yesterday evening ended in bloodshed when police responded to several 911 calls in Westlake Hills. Upon discovery of a grisly murder scene, officers were violently attacked by Monica Warren, who was on the premises unknown to law enforcement.

Something about the description unsettled Tony. He didn’t read any further, and opted to throw the paper into the trash. For a moment, he just met his own exhausted eyes in the mirror, before he washed his face and made his way towards his and Pepper’s bedroom.

Pepper was already in bed, propped up with a pillow with a book in her lap.

Reminded of Morgan’s words, Tony’s smile returned to his face, and the newspaper articles were forgotten.

“Not that it’s a competition or anything, but she loves me three thousand.”

“Oh, does she now?” Pepper bookmarked her book and smiled up at him fondly.

“You were somewhere in the low six to nine-hundred range.”

Pepper let out a bark of laugher at that, then shook her head in amusement. Tony quickly got rid of his shirt and slumped into bed, wrapping an arm around Pepper’s shoulders as they settled into the pillows.

Pepper opened up her book again, and Tony read over her shoulder for a few minutes, content.

“Oh.” Pepper suddenly exclaimed as she flinched. Alarmed, Tony was ready to ask what was wrong, but his worries were immediately ceased when he spotted movement in Pepper’s stomach. “He’s kicking, Tony. Look.”

Tony rested his hand on Pepper’s belly and felt the movement for himself.

“Hey, baby boy.” Tony whispered, eyes watering at the sight. He was really going to have another baby in just three months. Morgan was finally going to meet her little brother. “You’re getting pretty active in there, huh? I bet you’re excited to meet your big sister. I know she’s so excited to meet you.”

As if he was answering, the baby kicked again. Pepper and Tony both laughed.

“Yeah, that’s right. We can’t wait to meet you.”

Tony leant down and kissed Pepper’s stomach. Then, he sat up and kissed Pepper’s cheek.

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I know, it’s a wonder.” Pepper smirked, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “Are you sure everything’s okay at work?”

At the mention of work, Tony felt his mood shift. His smile dropped slightly, and he knew Pepper saw it, because hers did too. She shifted to cup his cheeks, running her thumbs gently over his skin. It was a comfort Tony desperately needed.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow.” Tony agreed. “I’m exhausted, today was a shit show I’d rather not rehash right now.”

“Sleep, honey. God knows you need it.” Pepper gently coaxed him to lie down. “I’ll just read for a while, I don’t think I’ll be sleeping any time soon, not when he’s so active. I’m not really tired, anyways.”

At the mention of their baby, Tony felt warm again.

His babies. He’ll have two of them soon.

Tony didn’t complain about Pepper’s suggestion like he usually would. Honestly, for once, he’d spent all day thinking about sleeping.

With Pepper stroking his hair, it didn’t take long for his eyes to close and for his mind to shut off.

-

Tony startled awake to someone shaking him.

His eyes shot open, disorientated, and automatically looked to his left for Pepper. Much to his relief, she was still there. She was the one shaking him.

It only took one look at her face to know something was wrong. With a quick glance at the time, Tony discovered he’d only been asleep for just over an hour.

Pepper looked spooked. Her eyes were wide and slightly teary, her hand resting on top of her belly in an almost protective manner. The sight immediately made Tony sit up, worry seizing his heart as he cupped his wife’s cheek with one hand, his other resting on hers atop her stomach.

“Pep, honey? What’s going on? Are you okay?” He tightened his grip on Pepper’s hand. “Is he okay?”

“It’s not…” Pepper gasped, her eyes flickering to the right. It was at this moment Tony realised there was flickering light in the room, the TV. It was on, the volume low, too low to hear what was playing. Tony didn’t care about the TV, his attention solely focussed on his wife. “It’s not the baby, he’s fine. He’s okay.”

“Okay.” Tony nodded, but only felt some relief. There was still something bothering her. Something major. Pepper rarely ever let something rattle her this much. “What is it then, sweetheart?”

At the same time he spoke, Tony heard someone yelling down the street.

“The- the TV.” Pepper looked away from him. “I needed the background noise, so I just turned it on some random channel, and-”

Tony turned to see for himself, the words only now just entering his ears.

“It appears that what we initially reported as riots seem to be somehow connected to the nation wide pandemic. We’ve received reports that victims afflicted with the infection show increased signs of aggression, and-”

The reporter was cut off.

“We need to move everybody out of here now! There’s a gas leak!”

“Hey, move!”

Tony recognised where the reporter was stood. Just on the edge of the city, near their home…

“There seems to be some commotion coming from beh-”

Tony and Pepper both jumped at the sound of an explosion. The broadcast immediately cut out and the TV went to static. He jumped out of bed, only to look out the window and see the explosion in the distance, a fiery red cloud erupting over the trees. Not even a minute later, there was a second explosion not too fair away, the sound echoing around the house.

Pepper followed his gaze out the window, her breathing picking up rapidly at the sight.

“Tony…” She whimpered. “They said it’s the virus.”

“Go get Morgan.” Tony jumped into action, heart pounding in his ears as he threw his shirt from earlier back on. “I’m going to go outside and see what’s going on.”

“No, you can’t go out there-”

“It’ll only be for a minute, get Morgan downstairs!”

Pepper steeled herself then, her eyebrows furrowed in determination. While Pepper made her way to Morgan’s room, Tony clambered down the stairs and towards the last place he left his phone. He snatched it off the coffee table and switched it on, only to see his messages overrun with texts from Rhodey.

At the same time, several police cars tore past their house, the sirens echoing around his skull. A dog began to bark immediately after.

Tony didn’t read any of the messages. Instead, he hit call and made his way to the front door.

Rhodey picked up immediately.

“Tony!” Rhodey roared down the phone. “Where the hell have you been? Have you seen the news?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen the news.” Tony unlocked the front door and yanked it open. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t know! I’m on my way to yours now, I was about to call Morgan’s phone because neither you or Pepper were answering. Fuck, Tony! Something really fucked up is going on right now!”

Now that Tony was outside, he could almost sense the panic in the air. Across the road, the Bishop’s were outside with their daughter, their faces filled with alarm. Their daughter was sobbing in her father’s arms, her cries echoing around the street just as much as the dog’s barking was.

More police cars passed by with an ambulance in tow.

Several other people were out in the streets, some frantically packing, others just as confused as him. In the distance, Tony thought he could hear screaming. It was unlike anything he’d ever heard before. Guttural.

In the hopes of seeing his favourite neighbour, Tony turned to his right. Yinsen was nowhere in sight, but his house lights were on. Tony considered heading over to knock on his door, but became distracted when he spotted something further down the street.

Tony could see someone stumbling in the darkness, almost twitching as they advanced towards a house opposite with a quick pace. There was a family, the Khan’s, haphazardly packing their car, their daughter inside. The person was heading straight for them, and Tony started to think their intention wasn’t good.

Yellow and orange lit up the sky as another explosion thundered through the air. Tony couldn’t see well, but he knew it had come from the city. He didn’t look, too focussed on the stumbling, frantic person down the street getting closer and closer to the Khan’s. They didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in their fear.

Rhodey, meanwhile, continued to rant in a panicked tangent.

“Tony, there’s chaos everywhere. There’s people acting like… I don’t fucking know! They’re attacking each other, some are in hospital gowns, they’re saying it’s the pandemic, but fuck! Are you still there? Tony-”

“Yeah, I’m still h-”

Tony cut himself off in horror as he watched the man, now lit up by street lights, launched at the Khan man. Yusuf, Tony thought his name was.

Tony almost dropped his phone at the scene occurring in front of him. The man was covered in blood, movements almost looking uncontrollable as he brought Khan to the ground with a screeching scream. People around him shrieked in fright, no doubt having spotted the commotion. Tony could only stare as the man started to rip Khan apart.

More sirens, more screaming, more panic.

Khan’s daughter, around the same age as Morgan, wailed in the car as her father was attacked. It looked like Khan was being bitten, eaten.

“What the fuck?” Tony heaved.

“What?” Tony had forgotten Rhodey was on the phone. “Tony?”

“Khan… he’s being… someone’s… Fuck!”

“Are you outside?” Rhodey almost screamed. Tony had to move his phone away from his ear. “Tony, get inside. Now! People are going fucking insane!”

Rhodey’s words faded into the background as he watched the man advance on Khan’s wife next. Khan was left on the ground, motionless, mutilated. There was blood everywhere. The child continued to scream in the car as her parents were killed in front of her.

Another person, stumbling just as violently as the man, entered the street from the opposite direction. A woman this time, also covered in blood, hair matted with the stuff. Tony was close enough to see the wild look in her eyes, close enough to hear the noises she was making. Her entire body jerked with a wet growl, and within seconds, she advanced towards the closest person faster than Tony expected.

When another neighbour was set upon by the woman, Tony stumbled backwards in an attempt to get back to his house. The Bishops had already retreated back into their home, and the same could be said for the other onlookers. Even though Tony couldn’t see them, he could still feel the mutual urgency.

Whatever was going on, Tony had to get his family out. The newspaper article he read earlier briefly came to mind, but there was no time to worry about that now.

Tony spun around and opened the door so aggressively he thought it might come off its hinges. He slammed it behind him and locked all the locks just as Pepper and Morgan came downstairs.

“Daddy?” Morgan whimpered tearfully, hugging Pepper’s leg. “What’s going on? Why is everyone screaming outside?”

“Tony?” Pepper must’ve seen how haunted he looked. “What did you see? Did you talk to Yinsen?”

“The Khan’s…”

“I’ll be there in five minutes, Tones.” Right, the phone, still up to his ear. “Stay inside until I get there, no matter what you do.”

“Got it.”

Rhodey ended the call. Tony shoved his phone in his pocket and rushed over to Pepper and Morgan.

“We have to get out of here.” Tony looked between his girls, his heart loud in his ears. He could still hear one of his neighbours screaming as the woman attacked her. “It’s the pandemic, I don’t know, it’s something to do with that fucking virus. Rhodey is on his way, we can’t leave until he gets here. It’s far too dangerous.”

Before Pepper could respond, the dog’s barking cut out with a yelp.

“Dad.” Morgan sobbed. “I’m scared.”

“I know, baby, I know.” Tony knelt down to his daughter’s level and cupped her cheeks. “We’re going to be okay, honey. I promise.”

Before he could give his daughter more reassurance, a faint thud outside made the three of them jump. It sounded like someone had vaulted over their fence.

Tony immediately stood up and stood in front of his family, manoeuvring his way through the entry way towards the back door. Without hesitation, he pulled open the top draw and grabbed his gun. Pepper made a sound of alarm, but didn’t say anything.

“Stay away from the doors!” Tony yelled, unwilling to take any risk after what he saw. “Just stand back there.”

“Daddy, you’re starting to freak me out.” Morgan whimpered, still clinging onto her mother. “What’s h-happening?”

“The Khan’s were attacked, I think the man was… sick.” Tony heaved in a deep breath as he loaded the gun. He was talking to Pepper more than Morgan, knowing the little girl wouldn’t really understand his words. “The virus is making people sick, Pep. Really sick.”

Before anyone could respond, a figure appeared from the shadows and hurled themselves at the sliding door. The man was a bloody mess, blood streaks covering the window as he threw himself against the glass.

Tony stood in front of Pepper and Morgan, one hand with the gun raised, the other raised in his family’s direction. Protective instincts taking over, Tony didn’t let the hand holding the gun waver.

It didn’t take long for Tony to recognise the man.

Yinsen.

Yinsen, the man who always helped him in the garage, offered him engineering supplies, had dinner with them every Friday night. Yinsen, one of the kindest people Tony had ever met who lived alone, his entire family having died a few years back.

His neighbour screamed and gargled, much like the man and woman he’d seen outside. His face was distorted, bloody, his eyes filled with insanity. He was missing his glasses and the whites of his eyes were brown. Tony didn’t want to believe this was his friend, but it was.

“Yinsen?” Pepper’s voice was filled with horror as she too recognised their neighbour. “Tony-”

“Dad? Why is Yinsen doing t-that?”

Yinsen roared and reared back just to throw himself at the sliding door three more times before the glass gave way.

Pepper and Morgan screamed as the glass shattered, the both of them backing up into the kitchen as Yinsen tumbled to the floor in a heap. Up close, he looked even worse. His breathing was disjointed and wet as he scrambled to his feet, wild eyes looking straight at Tony, but not really seeing him. Whatever had taken over, this wasn’t his friend anymore.

“Yinsen, just stay back-”

Yinsen advanced towards him, and Tony had no choice but to pull the trigger.

The gunshot echoed around the small room, Yinsen’s body immediately ceased to move as the bullet pierced his heart. His body crumbled and fell back to the ground without another sound. Aside from their heaving breathing, Morgan and Pepper were silent behind him as he stared down at what he had just done.

Blood pooled on the carpet. He’d just shot Yinsen in his own office.

Yinsen, one of his best friends. Dead.

“Daddy, you shot him…” Morgan whimpered. “I saw him this morning, he… he gave me a pretty f-flower from his garden.”

“Tony.” Pepper grabbed his hand, the one not holding the gun, and pulled.

It was as if her touch set him in motion. He turned around and ushered them back into the kitchen, hands shaking violently as he shoved the gun into his pants so he had both hands free. After a second, he brought Morgan and Pepper into a tight hug, to reassure himself that they were both still there. That he hadn’t just shot their neighbour, or seen the Khan’s get mauled with their daughter watching.

He had to protect them and his unborn baby. There was nothing he could do for Yinsen or the Khan’s.

Headlights shone through the window seconds later, and Tony couldn’t describe the relief that flowed through his body if he tried.

“Rhodey.” Tony pulled away. “Quickly, we have to leave.”

When Tony opened the front door, their street was in more of a disarray than it had been five minutes ago. All the Khan’s were dead, the car and street coated with blood and bodies. His other neighbour was also dead, in a similar state. The people who had done it weren’t around, but Tony had a feeling they were lurking somewhere close. He could still hear screaming coming from other streets nearby.

The Bishop’s lights were still on, a shadow behind one of the curtains moving frantically. Packing.

Others were in the middle of driving off, faces pale and haunted.

“Thank god.” Rhodey breathed out as he got out the car. His eyes briefly glanced towards the mess at the Khan’s, eyebrows creasing with distress. “You’re all okay.”

“Rhodey.” Pepper was on the brink of tears as she looked at their best friend, one arm around Morgan, the other around her stomach. “You’re here.”

“Of course, Pep.” Rhodey turned to Tony next. His eyes widened in alarm. “You have blood on you.”

“Yinsen, he… he was sick. I had no choice but… Can we just please go?” Tony opened the back door for Pepper and Morgan and ignored the concerned look his best friend gave him. “Quick.”

Tony helped his girls into the car then closed the door behind them. Once everyone was safely inside, Rhodey driving and him in the passenger seat, there was no hesitation to back out of the driveway and get onto the road.

“Hey Mo. How’re you holding up, honey?” Rhodey asked with a glance towards the back seat.

“I’m fine.” Morgan whispered, her tears having stopped for the moment. She was cuddled close to Pepper, holding her hand so tight her knuckles were white.

“Pepper?”

“Fine, too.” Pepper had never, ever sounded so scared in the many years Tony had known her. “Baby is fine.”

“Good, good.”

“Can we see what’s on the radio?” Morgan asked after a brief moment of silence.

“Yeah, sure.”

Rhodey switched on the radio, but there was nothing but static.

“Great. No cellphone, no radio. We’re doing just great.” Rhodey muttered. “A minute ago, they wouldn’t shut up.”

“Did they say where to go?”

“They said the Army’s putting up road blocks on the highway. There’s no getting into Travis County.”

Frustration pulled at Tony’s heart as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“That means we have to get the fuck out. Take seventy-one.”

Tony hardly listened to Rhodey’s response as he looked out the windows at the darkness surrounding them, wondering what could be out there, hidden from sight. As they pulled up to an intersection, more police cars whizzed past at breakneck speed, sirens loud and blaring.

“Did they say how many were dead?” Pepper asked.

“Probably a lot. They found this one family mangled inside of their house-”

“Rhodey.”

“Shit, right. Sorry.”

As they drove, they came across a car wrapped around an electrical pole. No one was inside, but there was a substantial amount of blood in the surrounding area.

“How did this happen?” Tony muttered as they turned away from the sight, glancing at Pepper and Morgan in the backseat.

Morgan was looking around, the street lights shining off her young face. Pepper met his eyes, but said nothing. Her expression said enough.

“No clue, but we aren’t the only town. At first, they were saying it was just the South, but now they’re going on about the East Coast, West Coast…”

Rhodey trailed off at the sight of a large burning house.

“That’s Darcy’s farm…. I hope she made it out.”

Tony, almost hypnotised by the sight, barely registered what he was saying. “I’m sure she did.”

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Are we sick?”

Morgan’s tone broke Tony’s heart. She was terrified, rightfully so. Tony was terrified.

“Of course not.” He almost bit out. “We’re fine, baby.”

“They said it was just people in the city. We’re good.”

“But…” Morgan whispered. “Yinsen worked in the city.”

Morgan was right.

Yinsen had an office job in the city, he went there today.

“That’s right, he did.” Tony didn’t want to think about Yinsen, about what he did to his friend. How the man’s body slumped to the floor, the way his blood was still on Tony’s shirt and skin…

“Don’t worry, sweetie. We’re not sick, I promise.” Pepper whispered to her daughter. “We’ll all be okay.”

As they came over the hill, a family came into view, one much like his own. Parents and their child, huddled together as they walked through the darkness, most likely scared out of their minds. The man began to wave his arms, desperately yelling for them to stop.

“Keep driving.” Tony had to put his family first.

“But they have a kid!” Pepper exclaimed. “Tony-”

“Keep driving.”

As much as he wanted to help, he couldn’t risk it. That family could be infected with the virus for all he knew. He had two babies and his wife in the car, along with his best friend. He couldn’t stand the thought of letting strangers in at a time like this, even if they had the room.

Rhodey continued to drive, and the man had to jump out the way to avoid getting hit. Tony watched them disappear into the darkness and out of view in the review mirror, heart tight with guilt. If things were as bad as they were turning out to be, the chances of them surviving was slim.

“We should’ve helped them.” Pepper whispered, mostly to herself, but Tony heard.

“You haven’t seen what I’ve seen, Pep.”

Pepper didn’t respond.

As they pulled into town and reached the exit to the freeway, hundreds upon hundreds of cars came into sight. Dread filled Tony’s stomach as Rhodey cursed beside him, impatient car horns beeping in every direction.

“Everyone and their mother had the same damn idea.”

Tony felt like screaming, or crying. Or both.

“We could just backtrack, and-”

Up ahead, a man stepped out of his car, yelling angrily about the hold up. Before Tony could process what was happening, another man covered in blood ran out from the darkness and into the light, dressed in only a blue hospital gown. Like the others Tony had seen, this person was covered in blood and moving around at a frantic rate, headed straight for the man and his car.

The man was tackled to the ground, and screaming began outside and inside the car. The passenger watched their friend get mauled, only for another person dressed in a hospital gown to race out of the bushes and hurtle into the car. The screaming became louder, almost piercing, even through the windows. They were both getting eaten alive, torn apart.

The first infected man’s head shot up to face them when he was finished with his victim. He twitched, blood dripping from his chin. The man lay limp beneath him.

Then, he started to sprint straight for them.

“Shit!” Rhodey swore and put the car into reverse.

The man was fast, and as Rhodey put the car back in drive to get away, he slammed against the back window. Pepper and Morgan screamed as the bloody figure pounded at the window, growling and snarling, smearing blood across the glass. Thankfully, Rhodey managed to get them away fast enough that the man couldn’t keep up.

Tony looked into the mirror as they left, only to see the infected immediately run to another open car to maul the person inside.

Rhodey skidded around the streets, Tony directing him where to go. However, it didn’t last long before they came to a road block. A large bus blocked the lanes, and there were people everywhere. They were streaming from all sides, screaming, sobbing and injured. There were bodies on the ground, motionless. It was complete, and utter, chaos.

“What are they running from?” Morgan asked as Rhodey tried to find a way through.

Tony couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“Get us out of here.”

“I’m trying!”

When Rhodey didn’t move, Tony’s panic started to take over.

“We can’t fucking stop here, Rhodey!”

“Well, I can’t fucking run them over!”

“Then back up!”

“They’re behind me too!”

Finally, a gap between the constant stream of people opened.

“Go, now!”

Rhodey moved through the gap slower than Tony would have liked, but at least they were moving.

Once they were on the other side of the bus, Tony was faced with destruction.

Smashed glass, fires, bodies everywhere. It was carnage.

Then, Pepper screamed from the back seat.

“LOOK OUT!”

Tony had no time to react. All he saw were bright, blinding headlights before something plowed into their car. The impact was hard enough to tip their car over, and the last thing Tony registered was Pepper and Morgan’s screams as glass shattered around them.

Tony’s head slammed against the dashboard, and he was rendered unconscious instantly.

-

“Dad?”

A voice echoed around his aching head.

“Daddy!”

Screaming. There was so much screaming.

The air smelled like smoke and blood. Like death.

“Daddy?!”

Morgan. It was Morgan crying out for him.

Tony forced his eyes to open, his head pounding. The first thing he registered through the cracked window was someone in a dented car across from him being brutally ravaged by another infected person.

“Morgan? Pepper?” Tony came to his senses quickly. Morgan was behind him, sobbing.

“Mommy!”

Alarmed, Tony rolled over the best he could to get sight of his family.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Pepper’s eyes, open, but unmoving. Blood coating her beautiful blonde hair, a large glass shard poking out from the back of her head. Hysteria bubbled up as he reached for his wife, tears already clouding his vision as he grabbed onto her shoulder and shook her.

There was no response. Her body was twisted unnaturally, bones broken, her clothes ripped, her stomach bleeding profusely. The car was dented, deadly. The other car must’ve smashed into the back, directly where she was sitting. Pepper had taken the brunt of the impact.

Tony couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Pepper’s stomach.

Pepper, his baby boy…

“Pepper, honey. Wake up.” Tony shook her again. There was no response. “My babies…”

Dead.

“Daddy.” Morgan cried out for him again, and Tony kicked his brain into gear. The world around him came into focus, his heart breaking the longer he looked at his wife. She was gone. There was nothing he could do but get Morgan out. It was what she would have wanted. “Dad?”

“Get b-back.” Tony grunted, tearing his eyes away from his dead wife and began to kick the window.

After a few solid kicks, the window gave way, and Tony began to drag himself out. Once he was out, he felt like he couldn’t move. Pepper’s empty, broken face was seared into his mind, along with her bleeding stomach. She was gone, just like that.

Across from him, the person getting attacked earlier lay dead in their car.

Pepper. His baby.

Morgan.

Just as Tony was about to go back for his daughter, someone slammed into him so hard he stumbled back into the car with a pained grunt. He opened his eyes to see a bloody face right in front of him, teeth barred and snapping, arms flailing in desperation to get to him. There was no humanity in their eyes as they attacked, desperately trying to bite him, to get any part of him. Tony struggled to hold them back, their strength overwhelming for a sick person.

Suddenly, as quickly as the infected had leaped onto him, they were gone. Rhodey hit them over the head with a brick, their body crumbling to the ground. All Tony could do was stare, horrified and grieving all at once.

Pepper.

“Dad?”

Tony blinked out of his daze and rushed to retrieve his panicking daughter.

“I’m here baby, I’m here.”

Morgan was bleeding in several places, but none of that worried him as much as the sob she let out when she tried to walk on her leg.

“M-my leg hurts.” Morgan clung to him.

“How bad?”

“B-bad.”

“Where’s Pepper?” Rhodey screamed over the noise. “Tony?!”

“We have to go!” Tony couldn’t say it out loud.

Rhodey seemed to get the message. He didn’t question further, but when Tony glanced at his friend, he saw the grief written all over the man’s face as he looked at the totalled car.

Then, he looked away, and his eyes widened in terror.

“We’ve gotta run!” Rhodey called out, and Tony followed his line of sight.

A horde of infected people were approaching, more than Tony had ever seen. There were so many.

Pepper, my baby.

“Oh my God.”

Without hesitation, Tony brought Morgan into his arms and handed his gun to Rhodey.

“Keep us safe.”

Rhodey nodded, then glanced back to the car. Grief morphed his features once again, and even though he knew he shouldn’t, Tony looked.

She was obscured by most of the car, but Tony could still see her. His precious wife, his unborn baby… he had to leave them behind. A sob bubbled up his throat as he looked at what was visible of her, the last time he’d ever see her. Her mangled body was the last memory he’d ever have of her.

He would never get to meet his baby boy. He didn’t even have a name.

A part of him wanted to die here with them, but he couldn’t do that to Morgan.

She was all he had left, and he was all she had. Time to grieve was something they no longer had.

“Tony, we have to move!”

“What about Mommy?” Morgan cried out.

“There’s n-nothing we can do.” Tears leaked down his cheeks. His entire body ached from the crash. “She’s gone, baby.”

Morgan went completely silent.

With one last look at Pepper’s still form, Tony broke into a run.

The infected chased after the group, some latching onto people and bringing them to the ground. He could hear people dying all around him as a car swerved down the street and crashed into a gas station, igniting in a massive explosion that caused many people around them to fall to their feet. Some were engulfed by the flames.

“Daddy, I’m so scared.” Morgan cried into his ear. “I want Mommy.”

“Just don’t look baby, just don’t look. You keep your eyes on me, okay?”

Once Tony had his footing again, they continued to run.

“Those people are on fire…” Morgan whimpered as they passed by a burning shop.

“Keep your head down, Morgan. Eyes on me, only me.” Tony cupped the back of his daughter’s head. “Don’t look anywhere else.”

As they approached an abandoned ambulance, two cars hurtled down the road and smashed into each other, running over people and bodies as they went. An infected grabbed a woman running beside Tony and dragged her down, her screams fading into the noise as he booked it towards the end of the street. Rhodey ran ahead, gun still raised in front of him.

Before they could reach the theatre towards the end of the street, more cars crashed into each other and ignited another explosion. More people burned to death, unable to avoid the flames.

There was nowhere to go. There were too many infected and the flames were too dangerous to pass.

“This way!” Rhodey turned and raced towards an alley gate. “Through the alley!”

Tony stumbled through the gate, Rhodey slamming it after them as they went. As Tony rounded the corner, an infected man jumped out at him and latched onto him and Morgan. Panic seized his heart as he tried to fight the thing off without dropping his daughter or getting either of them bitten.

Rhodey kicked the infected away from them and onto the ground, then finished them off with a headshot.

“He’s dead, come on!”

More infected people pounded on the fences as they ran through the alley, Tony whispering assurances to Morgan as they reached the town’s bar. Infected were hot on their tail as Rhodey kicked the door open and ushered Tony inside, and before the man could get the door shut behind them, several infected slammed against it.

“Get to the highway!” Rhodey yelled, struggling to keep the door shut.

“What?” Tony spluttered.

He couldn’t lose anyone else.

Pepper.

“Go! You’ve got Morgan, you have to go! I can outrun them!”

The infected got more and more desperate as the seconds ticked by. If he waited any longer, they would break through and kill all three of them.

“I will meet you there.” Tony snapped before he turned around and ran.

“Uncle Rhodey!” Morgan reached out for Rhodey as Tony shouldered the back door open. “Daddy, we can’t leave him!”

An infected and a man collapsed to the ground in front of them. Blood started to splatter.

“He’ll be fine, baby.” Tony dropped down onto the dirt and ran as fast as he could. “We’re almost there. Remember what I said? Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

The shadow of an infected followed them as they ran, along with its gurgles. Some of what it was gurgling even sounded like words at times, but it was impossible to tell. Tony didn’t give a shit either way, he had to get Morgan out of here and to the highway.

“They’re getting closer.” Morgan whimpered, holding onto him impossibly tight. “Dad?”

An ambulance was flipped on its side, the sound of another infected lurking behind it. Tony didn’t waste any time even looking, he just ran. The horrible sounds followed them, but he didn’t look back as he focussed on getting his child to safety. The ground beneath him got muddier, which made it harder to run, and the infected began to catch up with him.

Just when he thought he wasn’t going to make it, someone ahead of them raised their gun and sprayed the infected behind them with bullets. Tony turned to protect Morgan and listened to the sounds of their bodies hitting the ground, motionless and quiet. Now, all he could hear was the faint sounds of destruction in the distance.

Relief flooded his body as he looked up at who had saved them. It was a man dressed heavily in military gear.

“We’re safe baby, we’re safe.” Tony whispered to his daughter as he advanced towards the soldier. “Hey, we need help, please.”

“I want Mommy!” Morgan cried into his neck. “Why did we leave her?”

Tony had no time to answer her questions.

“Stop!”

“It’s my daughter, I think her leg is broken-”

“Stop right there!”

Tony stopped. Panic shot through his chest at the gun raised in their direction, flashlight in his eyes.

“Okay… we’re not sick.” Tony pleaded, taking a few steps back. “We’re not-”

“Got a couple of civilians in the outer perimeter. Please advise.”

“Daddy, what about Uncle Rhodey?”

“We’re going to get you to safety then go back for him, okay?”

“And Mommy?”

Tony’s face broke and tears welled in his eyes. He couldn’t think clear enough to give a reply.

“Sir, there’s a little girl…” Tony held his breath. “But… yes sir.”

The solider raised his gun.

“Listen, buddy, we just went through hell-”

The soldier didn’t give him any response, nor did he lower his gun.

He was going to shoot.

“Oh, shit.”

Tony turned in a desperate attempt to protect Morgan just as the soldier fired. Pain erupted in his shoulder as a bullet lodged itself there, his knees buckling from the force of it. Morgan fell from his arms and they became separated, falling down the small, muddy hill they had just ran up. Before he could even comprehend trying to find Morgan, the soldier stood above him, gun aimed at his face and ready to put a bullet in his head.

“Please, don’t.” Tony begged, hand raised in front of his face to block the blinding light.

His shoulder pulsed with pain, blood trickling down his back, but that was the least of his problems.

All he could think about was Morgan.

The soldier hesitated, then spoke.

“I’m so sorry…”

When he heard the gunshot, he thought it was the end for him.

However, blood rained down on him instead. The soldier dropped to his knees and fell backwards into the dirt, body still and no longer breathing. Rhodey stood to his left, panting, and glanced at Tony before his eyes widened at something behind him.

“Oh, no…”

That’s when Tony’s ears finally registered the whimpering.

Despite how much pain he was in, Tony spun around in the direction of the sound. His mouth fell open in horror at the sight, not wasting a second as he scrambled on his hands and knees to get to his daughter. Morgan’s hands rested on her stomach, where a large patch of blood was quickly growing.

“Morgan!” Tony brushed his hand against her cheek before he moved to her stomach. “Move your hands baby. I know baby, I know.”

He placed his hands over the gunshot wound, Morgan’s hands reaching for him, grabbing at his face, his arms, anything she could reach. Pained whimpers tore through her small frame as she cried, tears leaking down her cheeks. She was unable to form any words, and all Tony could do was watch. He could feel his entire world crumbling.

“Listen to me, I know this hurts baby, I know. I know, I know, I know.”

Blood leaked from Morgan’s nose as she choked, still grabbing for him.

“You’re gonna be okay, baby, stay with me.” Tony moved one arm beneath Morgan’s back. “I’m going to lift you up, okay? Rhodey, help me!”

When he moved her, Morgan’s whimpers became louder and even more pained. His own shoulder jolted with agony, but he ignored it. Morgan grabbed onto his hand, though her grip wasn’t as strong as it had been moments ago. Fear shot through him like ice as he glanced at Rhodey, who could only watch on in a similar horror.

Tony turned back to Morgan, who was starting to quieten. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, her eyes vacant. The distress had left her features, her eyes no longer filled with pain.

“Morgan?” Tony pleaded. “Baby?”

There was no response. No more whimpering, no more desperate hands reaching for him.

Nothing.

Morgan was still, her eyes as vacant as Pepper’s had been.

“Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to me baby girl, come on…”

There was still nothing. Tony choked on a sob as he rocked Morgan back and forth, tears having already bubbled over. He pleaded, over and over, but his baby still didn’t move. Blood was everywhere, but he wasn’t sure which was his and which was hers. His watch had broken again, the face smashed. Blood was smeared across it, but he wasn’t sure whose it was anymore.

Pepper.

Morgan.

His unborn baby.

All gone, in the blink of an eye.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. He couldn’t think.

Tony couldn’t do anything, because his entire world had been ripped away from him like a snap of a finger.

All he could do was sit in the mud holding his child’s motionless corpse, while his wife’s remained in Rhodey’s upturned car, along with their baby. By now, an infected could have gotten to them.

Either way, they were gone.

The Khan’s, Yinsen…

Every last one of them.

Chapter Text

20 YEARS LATER

SUMMER

“Look out, Morguna, I’m gonna get you!”

Morgan’s delightful giggles echoed around the backyard as Tony chased her, brown hair flowing in the wind as she dodged her father’s movements. Pepper watched from the porch, feeding their baby boy with a bottle, a fond look in her eyes as she watched her husband and daughter play.

It was the late evening, almost dinner time. One of Tony’s favourite times of the day.

“No, Daddy!” Morgan giggled as she raced into her tent. “You can’t get me now, I’m invisible!”

“I bet you I can.” Tony pulled back one of the flaps, his daughter grinning at him from the other end of the tiny tent. She was curled in on herself, trying to make herself smaller. “Oh no! Where has my Mo gone?”

Tony pretended not to see his daughter right in front of him, eyes searching around the tent before he let out a defeated sigh. He let go of the tent flap and stood up, slapping his knees with his hands as he went to signal that he’d given up.

“Oh well, I guess Morgan doesn’t get any ice cream before dinner.”

“Tony.” Pepper chastised from the porch. “Before dinner? Really?”

Morgan was out of her tent and hugging Tony’s legs in a flash.

“Did you say ice cream before dinner?”

“Just this once.” Tony offered a hand to Morgan, and she took it immediately. “Pep?”

“Fine, but only this once.” Pepper rolled her eyes as they approached. “Exactly the same, the both of you. Here, Tony, take him. Morgan, let’s go get you that ice cream.”

Tony happily took his baby into his arms as Morgan cheered, his heart full.

“Hey there, baby boy.” The baby gurgled up at him with the brightest of smiles. He had Pepper’s beautiful blue eyes and the beginning’s of Tony and Morgan’s brown hair. “How you doing, huh?”

The baby’s tiny hand latched onto his shirt. As Tony stared down at his baby, he struggled to put a name to the adorable little face. He had to have a name, right?

“What’s your name, hm?” Tony muttered as he ran a shaky finger down the baby’s soft cheek.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t put the face to a name. His heart constricted with panic at the gap in his memory, unable to remember one of the most important things about his child.

Why couldn’t he remember his own baby’s name?

Inside the house Pepper and Morgan had just disappeared into, someone started screaming. It was a painful sound that drilled straight into Tony’s ears, one of pure agony. Tony’s head shot up in alarm, and without hesitation, he barrelled through the sliding and hurried into the kitchen.

There was blood everywhere.

Pepper was slumped on the floor against the counter, blood pouring from her head and stomach. She was completely still, eyes blank and looking at nothing. Morgan lay beside her, whimpering and sobbing, reaching up for Tony desperately as she cried. Blood leaked from a wound in her stomach, a gunshot wound.

He hadn’t even heard the gun.

“Daddy, help me!”

In his arms, the baby began to cry. It was a shrill sound, one that pulsed around his skull. Out of instinct, he began to rock the small baby, unable to tear his eyes away from his dead wife and dying daughter. Outside, something pounded on the front door, followed by a loud snarl and a faint clicking.

The baby’s crying increased in volume, and when Tony looked down, the baby was covered in blood too.

Before Tony could think of what to do, the unnamed baby started to choke on his own blood.

Tony awoke with a start.

For a moment, he forgot where he was, still stuck in the aftershocks of his dream. He shot up into a seated position, panting, sweat pooling on his forehead as he buried his face in his hands.

When he opened his eyes, he was faced with a dirty, decaying room that he called his own. Sunlight shone through the window beside him, though the light had a faint green hue due to the years worth of dirt and grime that caked the glass.

Pepper, Morgan and his unborn baby’s faces were still up the front of his mind, taunting him.

Tony didn’t have long to think about the nightmare or his long dead family when the sound of someone knocking on the front door broke him out of his daze.

With a tired groan, he dragged himself to his feet. The knocking became more incessant, which caused frustration to prickle within him as he leant against the door frame for a moment to gather his bearings.

After the outbreak, Tony’s sleep was riddled with nightmares. He thought he would get over them as the years passed, and while they didn’t come as often, they still persisted when he least expected it. Today was one of those days.

Twenty years and he still couldn’t get his family’s vacant eyes out of his head.

The knocking persisted.

“I’m coming!” He barked.

Tony pushed himself away from the door frame and made his way to the front door. He wasn’t at all surprised to see Natasha stood on the other side, face grim, a dark, nasty bruise forming beneath her eye. Her hair was a bit of a mess, most of it having fallen out of the tight french braid she preferred to wear. It was obvious that she’d been involved in some kind of scuffle.

They stared at each other in the eyes for a moment, before he stood aside and let the redhead in.

“How was your morning?” Natasha huffed as she made a beeline for the whiskey he’d abandoned on the rickety table the night before. She wasted no time popping it open and poured herself a glass. “Want one?”

“No.” Tony snapped, his anger building at her ruffled appearance. Somewhere, beneath the anger, was worry. “No, I don’t fucking want one.”

Natasha shrugged, nonchalant, as if she didn’t notice his anger.

But, she definitely noticed. Nothing went unnoticed by Natasha Romanoff.

“Well, I have some interesting news for you.”

“Where were you, Nat?” Tony snapped. “What happened?”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed as she took a sip of her drink.

“West End district.” At the look on Tony’s face, she continued. “Hey, there was a drop to make, and I went through with it.”

Tony said nothing, his jaw tense. Natasha analysed him, just like she always did, her gaze scrutinising. She was always particularly good at reading him, especially when his anger bristled beneath the surface like it currently was.

“Yeah, I know, we had a drop to make. But you wanted to be left alone, remember?”

She took another sip.

“The deal went off without a hitch.” Natasha put her glass down and pulled a few ration cards from her pocket. She tossed them onto the table and grabbed a rag to rub the remnants of blood away from her cheek. She didn’t flinch, but Tony saw the pain shine in her eyes for just a second. “There’s enough ration cards to last us a couple of months, easy.”

Tony stared at the ration cards, then returned his gaze to his friend. He stared at the wound.

“You want to explain that?”

“I was on my way back here and I got jumped by a few assholes, alright?” Natasha’s tone was flat, which indicated she was angry. “Look, they got a few good hits in, but I managed just like I always do. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Stark.”

As always, she saw straight through him.

“Give me that.” Tony moved towards Natasha and almost snatched the cloth from her. He held her chin with his thumb and began to wipe the rest of the blood away, and again, she didn’t flinch. Natasha let him clean her up, her eyes betraying nothing she was feeling as he went through with his task. This was normal for them. “So, are those fuckers still with us?”

Natasha scoffed, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. This time, the satisfaction was clear.

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

Tony let a small smirk of his own form.

“Did you at least find out who they were?”

“They were a couple of nobodies, they don’t matter.” The moment was severed and Natasha slapped his away in favour of getting in his face. Pointing her finger at him, her eyes narrowed once again. “What matters is that Dreykov fucking sent them.”

Tony blanched. “Our Dreykov?”

“He knows that we’re after him, and he figures he’s gonna get us first.” Tony turned away, but he could still feel his friend’s watchful gaze on his back. Before he could say anything, she spoke again. “He’s smart, but he’s not smart enough. Especially when I know exactly where he’s hiding.”

He turned his head so fast his neck could have cracked. “Like hell you do.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “An old warehouse in Area Five. Can’t say for how long, though. The bastards slippery. It won’t be long until he notices his men haven’t returned, though I have to say, he should have expected that. He knows who I am, what I do. He should’ve sent more men.”

He couldn’t help but agree. Natasha was incredibly smart, stealthy and tactile, and always had been in the years Tony had known her. Hell, in their first meeting, she’d tried to kill him. Almost nothing got passed her, no matter what it was. Anyone unfortunate enough to get in Natasha Romanoff’s way was just as good as dead, and Tony found himself incredibly grateful to be on her good side.

He’s seen what she’s done to both people and infected on numerous encounters. His friend was one that didn’t allow herself to hesitate in the most dire of situations. It made her a brilliant friend and ally to have.

Tony tossed the rag back onto the table.

“Well, we don’t have any time to waste then.” He began to make his way to the front door. “I can do now. What about you, Romanoff?”

Natasha’s eyes lit up with something Tony would describe as fire. She smirked again, this one cunning.

If they found Dreykov, Tony could guarantee the man wouldn’t make it out of Boston alive.

“Oh, believe me, I can do now.”

-

“The checkpoint’s still open.” Natasha said as they made their way outside, the sweet stench of garbage entering his nose the second the door opened. If he was honest, he could already smell it inside, thanks to the cracked glass and holes in walls. “We only have a few hours until curfew, so we have to hurry it up. I’m not letting Dreykov get away.”

“Fuck.” Tony groaned. His body still ached, but it was a constant ache he had become used to over the years. “I could have done with that whiskey.”

Natasha only huffed out a small laugh as she unlocked the gate blocking their path to the main street.

Tony should be used to all the horrible smells that surrounded him each day, but it was something he, and many others alive before the outbreak hit, couldn’t quite get over. Whether it be trash, decaying corpses or rotting food, it was all just as horrible. The people born after the apocalypse hit were forced to grow up with it, and most likely didn’t notice it as much.

Once, this place would have been bustling with people, full of life. Back when things were normal, when Pepper and Morgan…

Now, misery surrounded him at every corner. Conversations he didn’t want to hear, sights he could have gone without seeing. Hardly any normalcy from the old world was visible anymore, and the kids born after just thought it was normal. Most people made the conscious decision not to bring children into this horrible world, but it happened more often than someone would think. Whether through accident, or just pure selfishness.

It happened.

He had no idea what the rest of the world was like. After the mobile network, along with the internet, went down, it was radio silent from other countries. There was nothing much they could do either way. Tony was almost certain it was just as bad everywhere in the world as it was here.

As they reached the exit of the alleyway, the same, repetitive woman’s voice droned over the speakers as an armoured car drove by.

“Attention. All citizens are required to carry a current ID at all times. Compliance with all city personnel is mandatory.”

As always, heavily geared military personnel were everywhere. Outside the zone, people were desperate to get inside, trying to get in at any means necessary. Tony hated living here, surrounded by people who didn’t give a shit about them and thrived off being the ones in power, living off ration cards and listening to the same damn announcements every day. The curfew was just another form of control.

But, being a smuggler had its perks. He had a lot more freedom than some of the people in the zone.

Ahead, Natasha came to a stop in front of the Ration Distribution Center with a glare on her face.

“Would you look at that, the ration line isn’t even open yet.” She shook her head in disappointment. “Must be running low again.”

She didn’t give him time to reply, not that he was going to. Tony followed her around the corner in silence, eyes wary as he looked at the military soldiers spread around the area. They stood the roof’s of tall buildings, weapons in hand, observing, a familiar sight in all quarantine zones. It made him feel like he was living in a prison, which in some ways, he was.

Up ahead, a soldier was in the process of shoving several civilians out of a building. Each civilian was in various states of disarray, covered head to toe in dirt and grime. Some where messier than others, but they were all covered in sweat. The summer sun was not forgiving.

“Let’s go. Move!”

“Hey- you leave me alone!”

“Down on the ground with your hands on your fucking head!”

“Okay, okay! Jesus.”

A total of four civilians were forced to kneel before the soldiers. Each one had terror written all over their faces, and Tony had half a mind to feel pity for them.

This was another familiar sight, watching people who tried to sneak in or out get apprehended. It happened frequently, and often enough, most ended up being infected. Natasha continued to walk ahead, disinterested in the sight she’d seen countless times before. Tony continued to walk as well, but at a slower pace as he watched the soldier pull out a Cordyceps reader and held it to the back of the first civilian’s neck.

The first two were clean of the infection, but the third was not. Tony could tell the moment Cordyceps reader beeped and the soldier’s paused.

“We’ve got a live one!”

Everyone in the immediate area was watching the display. Behind him, a couple whispered to each other, almost berating the others for trying to sneak back in. The conversation was drowned out by the woman’s desperate wails.

“No, no wait, please! I’m not infected!” Her voice was laced with fear as she struggled to get away from the soldier approaching her. “Please, I’m not-”

It took only a minute for her life to be over. A lethal injection given by the soldier cut her desperate cries off immediately.

When the body was still, face down on the concrete, the soldiers turned to the final man.

Immediately the man panicked and attempted to run. If the uncontrollable jolts of his limbs and the slight discolouration of his skin told Tony anything, the man was also infected. He looked even worse off than the poor woman dead on the floor.

The man was shot down before he could make any distance. Blood sprayed as bullets made themselves home, his body falling and knocking over one of the wooden blockades put up by the military. As red began to pool beneath him, the faint image of Yinsen on the floor of his office flashed through Tony’s mind. He looked away from the gruesome sight and moved to catch up with Natasha.

Twenty years and he still couldn’t stop being reminded of the first time he killed.

“Looks like more people are getting infected.” Natasha said when he reached her, her tone grim.

Just as Tony expected, she was listening.

“Which just means more people are sneaking out.”

“That’s not our problem right now. I got us new papers, no one should bother us on the other side.” Natasha stopped, turned, and narrowed her eyes at Tony. “Just play it cool. Cool, Stark.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tony almost rolled his eyes at Natasha’s warning look. Sometimes, he needed that warning, but today wasn’t one of those days. “I can play it cool.”

Natasha obviously didn’t believe him, but he didn’t care. She would have left him behind if she really thought his temper would be a problem.

As they approached the checkpoint gate, the redhead passed him their fake IDs just as the solider demanded it from them.

Calling the ID’s fake was almost a hilarious thought. Before the outbreak, Tony made himself a fake ID in an attempt to get into clubs with Rhodey in college. Being a fifteen-year-old prodigy wasn’t all great, and he was almost desperate to piss Howard off at every chance he got. The fake ID never worked, of course, but it was incredibly satisfying seeing his old man’s reaction when the information inevitably made its way back to him.

Now, the only thing he needed an ID for was to get out of this godforsaken checkpoint without raising suspicion.

Howard was most likely rolling in his grave at the way Tony’s life, and society itself, had turned out. Something ugly twisted in his chest at the thought of both his long dead parents and Rhodey, who had been very much alive the last time he saw the man.

“ID’s.” The solider snapped and caused Tony’s mind to surge back into the present. He handed them over, watching the soldier’s expression intently. The man looked up at him, then Natasha, then back to him. “What’s your business here?”

“Got the day off, just visiting a friend.”

“Alright, move on through.”

Fooled, just as predicted.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Tony didn’t get to take more than one step forward before hell broke loose.

A sudden heat hit the both of them as the truck ahead exploded into a large fiery mess. Gunshots followed, along with frantic yells as the soldier that took their ID’s slammed the gate in Tony and Natasha’s faces and prevented their smooth, simple exit.
Shit.

The sudden noise was overwhelming. The explosion combined with gunfire and soldiers yelling orders to each other caught Tony off guard as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

“Go, go!”

“Fireflies!”

“Fuckin’ shoot ‘em, they’re running!”

“Come on.” Natasha pulled on his arm as an alarm began to blare throughout the zone. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Attention. Checkpoint five is now closed until further notice. All civilians must clear the surrounding area immediately.”

“Come on, Tony, move your ass!”

“Fucking Fireflies.” Tony muttered as he turned around began to sprint in the opposite direction of the gunfire.

They bolted back through the street the way they came, Natasha veering off to the left towards a familiar building when the coast was clear. All the soldiers and other civilians were too distracted by the Firefly attack that they wouldn’t notice them as they slipped away.

Tony was thankful to get off the street, the alarm worsening his already developing headache. He slammed the door behind him with more force than necessary as Natasha let out a curse. Inside, the alarm wasn’t so loud and didn’t reverberate around Tony’s skull.

“For fuck’s sake… there goes our easy route.” Natasha looked at him, and then his arm. Without a word, she tossed a bandage from her pocket at him and continued down the hall. “They’re going to close all the checkpoints now. We’re going to have to go around the outside.”

Tony looked at his arm, surprised to see the large gash on his forearm dripping blood. When he had gotten it was a complete mystery.

As he patched himself up, he registered what Natasha had said and raised his eyebrows.

“Did you say outside the wall?”

“Would you rather let Dreykov go?”

“Ha, very funny.”

Natasha regarded him with a smirk before she turned around, long braid falling from her shoulder to rest on her back. Tony trailed behind his friend, a familiar face rising from his chair near the end of the hall to meet them.

“Hey Nat!” Mark, Tony thought his name was. “Did you see that shit?”

“I was there. Doesn’t matter, how’s the east tunnels looking?”

“It’s clear, I just used it. No patrols. Where are you off to?”

“Tony and I are going to pay Dreykov a visit.”

Mark let out an uneasy laugh as he glanced at Tony before he turned back to Natasha.

“You too?”

“What? Who else is looking for him?”

“Carol. She’s been asking around, looking for him. She hasn’t had much luck so far.”

“Carol?” Natasha exclaimed, just as shocked as Tony felt at the name. “What do the Fireflies want with Dreykov?”

“Nat, do you really think Carol would tell me anything?”

“Did you tell her anything?”

“Yes, obviously. The truth, which is I have no idea where he’s hiding.”

“Good. The last thing we need is the Fireflies poking around in our business.” Natasha turned to Mark. “You stay out of trouble, alright? The military is going to be out in force soon. Watch your back.”

“Always do! See you around, Nat. Tony.”

Tony nodded at the man, and together he and Natasha left him behind. Tony turned Mark’s words around his mind, wondering what the commander of the Fireflies could possibly want with Dreykov. It was never good when the Fireflies were involved.

“Carol’s looking for Dreykov, what do you make of that?”

“I don’t like it. We better find him before the Fireflies do.” He hated it, actually. It sounded like the Fireflies were poking around in places they shouldn’t be. They’d already detoured there plans enough by blowing up the fucking checkpoint. “Who knows what they’ll fuck up if they find him first.”

“Well, they already blew up the checkpoint.” Natasha muttered as they rounded the corner into a room illuminated by a single window. It was a mess, like most buildings were these days, rubbish strewn and furniture around. On an old, dirty couch, the current guard, Happy, sat. He looked bored to death until he saw them, and his expression brightened just slightly. “This is us.”

“Hey guys, how’s it going?”

“Shit’s been stirring up out there. What about over here?”

“It’s been quiet, no signs of military or infected.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Tony was already making his way towards the old bookcase that concealed their exit. On it sat an old TV, long out of use, and some books on the very top shelf. Natasha positioned herself on the opposite side, and together they pushed the bookcase out of the way to reveal a large hall in the wall, plaster flaking off as the bookcase rubbed against it.

“Hey, you guys take it easy out there.” Happy called out as Natasha dropped into the room below.

“Always do.” Tony huffed out before he too dropped into the darkness.

The first thing Tony noticed was the smell. While it never smelt particularly great in the tunnels, today, it was almost unbearable. Just as he was about to open his mouth to make a comment, Natasha beat him to it.

“Fuck, it reeks in here. People really need to watch what they’re throwing down here.” Natasha switched on the light. “Let’s grab our gear, it should still be here from last time.”

Tony kept his comments to himself as he followed Natasha through the tunnel and towards a familiar workbench. The room looked relatively the same as it had the last time they’d been, their backpacks sitting untouched atop of the workbench. Tony didn’t hesitate to grab his gear, only to frown when he noticed the distinct lack of ammunition.

“Not a lot of ammo.”

“You better make your shots count, then.”

Tony grabbed his gas mask and small tool set and ungracefully shoved them into his backpack. The handgun went to its usual spot in the back of his jeans, and soon he was ready to go. The last thing he did was hook his flashlight to his backpack strap, then follow Natasha towards a wall too tall for someone to climb on their own.

“Okay, Stark. Give me a boost.”

They’d done this hundreds of times before, so it was almost like second nature. Tony squatted, braced himself against the wall and cupped his hands for Natasha to step into. It hardly took the redhead five seconds to get up and over the wall, and even less for her to pull Tony up afterwards. They were silent as Tony lifted a large wooden pallet above them, covered with debris that made it too heavy to lift any further, to give access to the room above. He allowed Natasha up first, then transferred the plank’s weight to her as he dragged himself up next.

When Natasha dropped the pallet with a loud thud, Tony merely sighed.

Did the Fireflies really have to blow up the fucking checkpoint?

The familiar sight of the old diner came into view when Tony turned around. Compared to some other buildings in the world, the diner was surprisingly intact. While it had its decaying walls, ceiling and floor, there were still quite a few remnants of their old world scattered around the place. There was even an old jukebox in the corner in perfect condition, only covered by a layer of grime and some grass growing at its base.

Distantly, it reminded Tony of the diner he used to bring Pepper and Morgan to all the time. It had been Jarvis’s favourite, too. Pepper, in particular, would have loved that jukebox. She always had a knack for older looking furniture.

Pain sliced through his heart, but he shoved it down and forced himself to forget his wife’s lifeless eyes.

“Be careful.” Tony said almost out of instinct when he saw Natasha headed towards the exit.

As expected, his friend scoffed.

“When am I not?”

“Oh, I don’t know, when you let yourself get that nice bruise?”

Natasha threw him a playful look over her shoulder before she stepped outside.

Tony followed suit, and the moment the sun hit his skin, he couldn’t help but feel relieved. The main areas of the quarantine zone was always stale, like he was living inside of a box In some ways, he was.

The surrounding area was filled with buildings in various states of deterioration. Some were missing walls, most had plants growing in every nook and cranny, others had simply collapsed and were nothing but rubble. The ground where a parking lot had once been had caved in, an old, rusted car precariously slanted to the side where the slope began. The nature that had grown around it was most likely the last thing holding it together.

“We haven’t been out here for a while.”

Natasha hummed in agreement. “It’s almost like we’re on a date.”

Tony almost laughed. Something started to swell in his chest, but like most other emotions, he shoved it down as far as he could. It wasn’t like the twist he felt when he thought of his family or Rhodey, but it was enough to unsettle him. It was easier to lock it away and never allow himself to think about it.

“You do know I’m the romantic type.”

“Don’t I ever.” That feeling surged in Tony’s chest once again as Natasha stopped beside the building they were destined to climb, a large gap between the bricks. It had deteriorated since the last time they’d used this route. “Someone’s moved the ladder again. How many times do people have to be told-”

“Well, it has to be around here somewhere.”

True to his word, it didn’t take Tony long to find the ladder. It was hidden behind another abandoned car, which was in somewhat of a better condition compared to the last two he’d seen. Once he had it leant against the wall, he turned to Natasha, a joke already forming on his lips when he saw the deadpan look on her face. Evidently, she knew it was coming too.

“Ladies first.”

“Lady? You must be thinking of someone else.”

“I don’t see any other ladies around here.” Tony pretended to look around, then settled his gaze back on Natasha. “No, just you. Up.”

Natasha gave him a look he couldn’t read, but climbed up the ladder first nonetheless. Once she was at the top, Tony climbed up and into the building. He didn’t pay much attention to its contents as they weaved through the rooms towards a broken staircase. Everything useful had already been looted by other people.

One after the other, Tony and Natasha jumped down into the room below. Now bathed in the darkness, Tony switched on his flashlight and stepped through the trash littering the floor.

“You think Dreykov still has our guns?”

“For his sake, he better.”

“Once we get the merchandise back, it should be easy to unload. The next shipment is due-” Natasha cut herself off and stopped abruptly. Tony saw her eyes widen just slightly as she moved to grab her gas mask. “Spores.”

Perfect. Just another thing to add to his already spectacular day.

First, the Fireflies, and now spores.

Down the hallway, spores lingered out of an open doorway. Tony pulled off his backpack and rifled through its contents to grab his own gas mask as Natasha slipped hers on. Once it was secure over his face preventing any deadly bacteria infecting his lungs, Tony didn’t waste any time in walking into the spore-infested room. His earlier frustration began to return as he looked around the old laundromat that was riddled with spores. The entire room was toxic with the stuff, the air thick and nasty.

“Where is all this shit coming from? Last time it was clear.”

“They’re coming out of something. Stay alert.”

“As always.”

It didn’t take long to find the source of the spores.

In the low tunnel they frequently used, a rotting corpse sat leant against one of the walls. Tony could physically see the spores emitting from the thing as he made his way through, crouched so he didn’t hit his head or, even worse, accidentally crack the glass in his mask.

“Looks like we’ve found our culprit.”

“The body’s fresh, we better keep our eyes and ears open.”

Fireflies, spores, now infected added to the mix.

Tony supposed he couldn’t complain. He’d had worse days.

Much worse days.

When the tunnel opened up enough for them to stand, Tony spotted a large beam blocking their exit. Bracing himself, he shoved the thing as hard as he could, only for the ceiling to fall apart above him as the beam gave way. It tumbled to the ground as dust, mould plaster from the ceiling rained onto him from above.

Thankfully, the ceiling stayed intact and didn’t cave in on him.

“You alright?” Natasha called out, not far behind.

“Yeah, fine. The fucking ceiling’s falling apart, be careful when you come through.”

Once Natasha was safely out of the tunnel, Tony began to the squeeze between the wall and the filing cabinet. When he reached the other side, something immediately grabbed onto his foot. The grip was too weak to have been an infected, but not having expected anything to grab him, Tony jumped into survival mode.

Letting out a curse, he yanked his foot away and grabbed Natasha to pull her both through the gap and away from the thing on the floor. Only then did he look to see what it was, only for it to be a human man, not infected.

However, he wasn’t far off becoming an infected from the large crack in his gas mask.

“H-help me.” The man coughed weakly, trapped beneath a fallen cabinet and a concrete slab. He continued to reach out for Tony with desperation, only barely able to move his arm. “My mask, it broke. Please d-don’t leave me down here to turn. Please. I can’t… I c-can’t become one of them. Help me.”

Tony already had his gun ready in his hand. The man’s wheezy and pained breaths were loud in the otherwise silent room, the coughs even louder.

The man was better of dead, and everyone in the room knew it.

Tony pulled the trigger without flinching, and the man fell silent.

It was better this way.

No time to dwell, Tony took the ammunition lying on the ground beside the man and reloaded his gun as Natasha headed off. Tony didn’t look at the body as he searched the rest of the room for any supplies, but it had been looted already. The rest of the structure was just as empty, only littered with things from twenty years ago that had no use to them now. Papers, boxes, whiteboards, old furniture. More filling cabinets. A lamp.

That was, until, there was a yell in one of the other rooms, followed by a wet snarl and quick, frantic footsteps. All too familiar sounds to Tony, sounds that made both him and Natasha tense where they stood.

“You hear that?” Natasha whispered.

“Shh, shh, shh.”

Tony shuffled his way to hide behind the wall, just out of sight of the infected but close enough to be able to see through the doorway. By the sounds alone, Tony knew they were runners. Three of them ran around the room, two pairing off through another doorway while one stayed behind. It stood still, hunched over and twitching, none the wiser to Tony and Natasha behind it. In the other room, the gruesome sounds of something being mauled began.

When he was sure the coast was clear, Tony tip-toed out from behind his cover with his gun in hand just in case he was spotted. Slowly he approached the runner from behind, acutely aware of how much sound he was making. If one runner heard him, all three would be on him in seconds, and unlike clickers, runners still had their eyesight. Thankfully, they didn’t react to the bright light emitting from his flashlight.

When he was close enough, Tony rose to his full height and wrapped his arm around the runner’s neck and squeezed. The runner immediately began to struggle, arms flailing in an attempt to get away, but Tony snapped its neck before it even had the chance. So he didn’t alert the infected in the other room of his presence, he carefully lowered the body to the floor and advanced to the next doorway.

Tony wished the sight of infected feasting on bodies got any easier to look at. But as his flashlight illuminated the sight, he couldn’t help the way his nose wrinkled beneath the mask. Blood and guts sprayed everywhere as the infected feverishly consumed the body of a man that was long gone.

In a similar fashion to the last runner, Tony sneaked up behind one infected while Natasha aimed her gun at the other behind it. They’d done this enough times together to know each other’s movements, so he didn’t have to look back to know she had her gun up and ready to shoot as soon as he had ahold of one of them.

Once he was close enough, Tony grabbed the runner and yanked it off the body. He had his arm around its neck before it could turn around and bite him, which immediately alerted the second infected. It screamed and launched at him, but there was a bullet in its head before it could get any closer. It fell to the ground with a loud thud at the same time Tony snapped the other’s neck.

To his relief, the building fell quiet once more, no more infected to be heard.

“Jesus.” Tony sighed as he dropped the body without as much care as the first. It slumped at his feet like a rag doll.

“That’s all of them.” Natasha said as she holstered her gun in her jeans. “I’m willing to bet you really regret not having that whiskey now?”

“You know me too well.”

“Maybe a little too well. We should head back into the city.”

Tony couldn’t agree more.

In their trek to get back to the outside, they were lucky enough to find a few stray bullets lying around, as well as a few rags that could be used as bandages. It was never ideal, but they were low on supplies, so he would take what he could get. Bullets especially.

He didn’t think about the fact that the supplies left behind were likely those of the infected they’d just killed.

When an exit was finally found, Tony couldn’t wait to be out of the infested building.

“Fresh air.” Tony exclaimed as he dropped from the building to the ground. He pulled off his mask and put it away, thankful to feel the sun on his skin again and to breathe clean air. Spores and runners forgotten, he and Natasha continued to walk. “Finally.”

“That’s my favourite thing about the outside. I can’t stand the smell of the fucking city.”

“Why don’t you ask Clint to get you one of those fancy air fresheners?”

“You think he’d give those away? Please. Most of them are expired anyways.”

-

The rest of their walk was infected and military free. After a quick detour to retrieve a fallen plank for them to cross a gap too large to jump, he and Natasha made quick time in winding through back alleys and an old warehouse. Soon, they reached the building that held the secret zone entrance.

Tony watched Natasha knock on a large metal door, only for a child to open it.

“Hey, little man.” Natasha pulled out two ration cards and showed it to the kid. The kid’s eyes practically lit up at the sight, and he attentively awaited Natasha’s orders. “Make sure the coast is clear. No soldiers and none of Dreykov’s men. You understand?”

The kid nodded rapidly and practically snatched the ration cards as he scurried away.

“You know Dreykov’ll be expecting us?”

“Well, then it’ll make it even more interesting.”

Before Tony could reply, the kid’s shadow through the window gestured that it was all clear.

The second Tony stepped into the camp, all eyes were on him. Tony ignored the stares as he followed Natasha, used to the unwelcome attention. The only reason he hadn’t gotten jumped yet was because of Natasha, who continued to brush off everyone who tried to talk to her. Dogs behind a fence barked, easily the loudest sound in the camp, and Tony’s brain unhelpfully reminded him of that night.

The dog’s barking ending with a yelp before Yinsen crashed through the sliding door.

The camp was unpleasant, which was normal for a place like this. They walked through a few stalls that sold mostly useless junk, one man sneering at Tony as he passed by, and he would’ve made a comment if it wasn’t for the warning glare Natasha gave him. He kept his gaze firmly ahead, but watched the people he passed in the corner of his eye in case one of them decided it was a good idea to attack him.

They made it to an old bus, which had been renovated into a sleeping area, without incident. Natasha hung behind, stuck in a conversation with one of the men and gestured for Tony to go on ahead. With a shrug, he did, and stepped onto the bus.

Through the dirty windows, Tony could see a fight happening in a makeshift fighting ring outside. People cheered as a man got decked in the face so hard that he crumbled to the floor in a heap, his blood joining the darkened stains on the ground that looked like they had been there for a while. He didn’t get back up.

Tony looked away, because to be honest, he couldn’t give less of a shit about these random people and their fight ring. Before he could reach the end of the bus, a man stood up with his shoulders squared and expression hard.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The man got in Tony’s face and his heckles were immediately raised. His fists clenched as he scowled at the stranger.

“None of your damn business-”

“Hey, Justin, ease up!” Natasha snapped as she stepped onto the bus. “Sit back down.”

Suddenly, as if he hadn’t been hostile mere seconds ago, Justin’s features softened behind his hideous glasses. Tony almost scoffed at the ass-kissing attitude.

“Oh, sorry Nat. Didn’t realise you two were together.” Justin sat back down. “Go ahead.”

Tony rolled his eyes at the man, Justin apparently, and the look he got back in return was one of pure hatred. Only ass-kissing behaviour was reserved for Nat, then. He had the sudden urge to punch those hideous glasses off his face, but he reigned his anger and made his way out the bus without uttering another word.

Once he was outside, he turned to his friend.

“Who was that prick?”

“An old headache, don’t ask.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there. Were you two, you know…”

“No. We weren’t. Didn’t I just say not to ask?”

He knew that would get a rise out of her. Tony smirked to himself as they walked into a quieter area with only a few people inhabiting it. Two were leant against a barbed wire fence, deep in conversation, another sat in a dirty plastic chair beneath their tent. At the back of the small area, Tony could see multiple wanted posters pinned to an old noticeboard. Even from this distance, Carol’s emotionless face stared back at him.

As he walked over to inspect the poster, he spotted a young girl tucked away in the corner. She held a deteriorating teddy bear in her arms, her movements gentle as she stroked the bear’s head. Tony’s heart twisted unpleasantly as Morgan’s face forced her way into his mind, her face the last time he’d tucked her into bed. She always had so many stuffed animals. She had a name for each and every one.

He was staring, and the girl soon. noticed. Fear morphed her features as she hugged her bear close to her chest, fear that was directed at him. Jolted back into his unfortunate reality, Tony looked away with a tense jaw and subconsciously rubbed his thumb over his watch. The cracked glass against his skin did little to calm his racing heart.

Without care, he yanked one of the posters off the noticeboard.

WANTED FOR FIREFLY AFFILIATION

CAROL

Tony skipped over the description and straight to the bottom where her criminal record was listed.

CRIMINAL RECORD

Suspect is wanted on multiple charges including terrorism, murder, conspiracy to murder, forgery, bribery, robbery, and others stemming from organising and leading the terrorist group known as the Fireflies.

CAUTION

Suspect should be considered armed and dangerous at all times; she is well-protected and well-regarded by many; expect resistance to her arrest or execution from members of the public. If you see this person, report to the nearest FEDRA HQ. Information leading to her capture will be rewarded!

Yeah, right. Carol was just as, if not more slippery than Dreykov.

Tony screwed up the paper and tossed it away. He made his way back to Natasha, who had more of their ration cards out. He bit his tongue from saying anything, because he was pretty sure Natasha would bite his head off if he did.

“I’m looking for Dreykov.” She offered the ration cards to the man she was talking to. “He come through here?”

The man looked between the ration cards, Natasha, and then Tony, before a small smirk pulled at his lips.

“Half an hour ago, he went back to the wharf. He’s there now.”

Natasha continued ahead. Tony eyed the man for a moment as he passed, who was too busy tucking his new ration cards in his pocket to notice.

It didn’t take long for things to go south. A few steps down the alley and around the corner, three men stood in their way. The moment their eyes settled on Tony, they started to head in their direction, and he already knew just from first glance that these were some of Dreykov’s men.

Behind him, Natasha let out an unbothered sigh. “Here we go.”

The three men stood in a line, two with their guns out. The one in the middle didn’t have one in his hand, but Tony was sure it was somewhere on his person. He seemed to be the leader of their little gang.

Tony let Natasha do the talking.

“Let us through.”

The thug only scoffed.

“You guys need to turn around and head back if you know what’s good for you.”

“Our business isn’t with you, it’s only with Dreykov. You don’t want to do this.”

“Turn the fuck around and leave now.”

“I’m not going anywhere without Dreykov.”

The thug in the middle took a step forward, and so did Natasha. Tony watched from the sidelines with full confidence that Natasha will handle them.

“Bitch, I will bash your skull unless you turn around and get your dumbass out of here.”

The moment Tony saw Natasha’s shoulders tighten, he knew the thugs were in for it.

“Oh, fuck this.”

Natasha pulled out her gun and shot the thug in the head. His friends scrambled for cover, as did Tony and Natasha. They ended up behind a large crate, the thugs lurking behind their own cover up ahead as an uneasy silence settled over them.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you!” One of them called out, but his tone wavered with fear.

The chances of that were highly unlikely.

“I’ll cover you, get the angle on them.”

Tony nodded. With full trust in his friend, Tony began to dart between crates, gunshots echoing around him as Natasha shot at the goons. It was enough of a distraction for Tony to get the perfect angle on them, the idiots none the wiser. He waited a moment before he raised his gun and shot the one closest to him in the head. All his friend could do was look in his direction before Natasha’s bullet pierced his skull.

When all was clear, Natasha made her way over to him with her usual confidence.

“Nicely done, Stark.”

“You too, Romanoff.”

They made their way down the arched tunnel the thug’s had been blocking, only to be stopped by a locked gate. Just like routine, Tony boosted Natasha up and over the wall, and she pulled him up. A few minutes of winding through buildings later, they came up to a large warehouse. Tony entered first through a gap in the fence, just as more of Dreykov’s men exited the building ahead. Quietly, Tony crouched and hurried to cover.

“Shit.” Natasha muttered as she dropped down beside him. “More of Dreykov’s guys.”

There were two of them, deep in conversation.

“How do you know they’re coming?”

“Two of our guys died trying to take Romanoff out. I guarantee she and Stark are on their way right now to get to Dreykov.”

“Shit, we shouldn’t have taken this job.”

“Not our call. Spread out, let’s make sure there’s no one creeping around out here.”

The two men split off in opposite directions. As they got further away, Tony moved up towards the building, where he could hear more voices coming from inside. Natasha headed for the guys outside, her red hair disappearing behind an upturned barrel as she made the approach. Tony slipped into the building and crouched behind a wall to listen.

“I meant to tell you, I was down on Jordan Street and all these soldiers showed up with a group of about five civs, all in handcuffs.”

“Let me guess, Fireflies?”

“Yup. They lined ‘em up against the wall and bang, bang, bang. They just executed all of ‘em.”

“Holy shit.”

“I hear it’s like that all over the city. They’re cracking down on ‘em hard.”

Just two men.

When one had his back to Tony’s location, he crept into the room and grabbed the closest man by the neck. He squeezed, depriving him of air as he dragged him behind the wall. It didn’t take long for the other man to noticed his friend’s silence, but was none the wiser to Tony choking him out in the other room. When he was sure the idiot wasn’t going to get back up, he disposed of the body and prepared himself.

“Ivan?” The other man called out. “Where’d you go, man? This isn’t funny.”

Tony listened as footsteps approached. They were slow, cautious, and definitely coming in his direction. He readied himself, fists clenched as a shadow appeared in the doorway.

The second the man rounded the corner, Tony leapt up and kneed the guy in the stomach. All he could manage was a pained wheeze before Tony grabbed his head and smashed it against the wall, effectively knocking him out, possibly even killing him. The body crumbled to the floor with a loud thud, and when no more men came to investigate the sound, he was certain Natasha had taken care of the other two.

While he waited, he stole the thug’s bullets, supplies and a key to another warehouse.

Natasha arrived no more than one minute later. There was some blood on her shoulder.

“All clear.”

“Great, let’s keep going.”

Together they headed down the short hallway close by to where Tony had neutralised the two men. Using the key he stole, he unlocked it and crept into the next room. As expected, there were more of Dreykov’s men loitering outside, voices travelling into the room they were hidden in. When their conversation ended and they dispersed, he and Natasha got to work.

The first three guys were easy to take out. When they reached one of the bigger warehouses, there were even more of Dreykov’s men walking around, guns out and alert. Together, he and Natasha weaved through the boxes and crates littered around the place and took out each man one by one. When two stood together, Tony snagged an old bottle from the floor and tossed it as far as he could in the opposite direction. The distraction worked, and another one of Dreykov’s goons were taken out.

When everyone in the warehouse was taken care of, Natasha and Tony looted the bodies for anything useful. Mostly bullets and a few shivs. He stole them all, along with a few materials to make more. He hadn’t gotten the chance since he left, and now was a better time than any.

“This way.” Natasha whispered, still alert as she gestured to a chain to lift the roller door. “Quietly.”

Tony grabbed the chain with both hands and began to pull. It was louder than he liked, but neither of them got shot as they quickly helped each other through. As Tony lowered the door slowly and quietly, Natasha’s stern voice whispered the words he wanted to hear.

“There he is.”

Tony followed Natasha’s line of sight, and of course, there he was.

Dreykov, in all his arrogant glory.

“Let’s go wrap this up, shall we?” Tony eyed Natasha.

“After you.”

Tony leapt over the large concrete block they had been hidden behind and dropped down to the wharf. Natasha followed closely behind and reminded him to be smart.

She was right, there was a lot of guys, and the chances of taking them all out stealthily were slim. All he had to do was get as many as he could before they were inevitably spotted.

He waited until Dreykov disappeared from sight to begin. He and Natasha took out two at a time so they didn’t alert the rest of the crew, both by choking and with shivs. Natasha used her knife, more blood getting on her skin as she quietly took a man down. Blood trailed in their wake, the entire outside cleared before they got closer to the office area Tony assumed Dreykov was hidden within.

That was when things inevitably went south.

All it took was for Tony to have one lapse in judgement. He had a goon in his grasp, shiv in hand, when he was spotted by another on the other side of the wharf.

The gunfire began, one of the bullets hitting the man Tony was holding as he scrambled to get himself behind an empty shipping container. Without hesitation, he stabbed his shiv into the man’s neck to finish him off and dropped the body in favour for taking out his gun. Bullets clanged against the shipping container as he reloaded and got himself together, Natasha further ahead spraying Dreykov’s men with her own bullets.

Tony made his way around to his friend and remained carefully out of sight. He grabbed a wooden plank from the ground and held it tight as he snuck up behind the man closest to her. When the time was right, Tony cracked the plank over the back of the man’s head, and he slumped forward face-first into a crate and didn’t get up again.

A few headshots later, the gunfire ceased. Tony let out a relieved and exhausted breath.

“There’s no way Dreykov didn’t hear all that shit, hurry!” Natasha rushed past him in favour of opening up a door to the small office. Tony followed her through the rather empty room without a word, gun in hand, ready for Dreykov to jump out the fucking shadows. She paused in front of another door, her hand hovering over the handle. “If we’re lucky, the fuckers still in here. Be ready.”

Natasha’s fingers wrapped around the doorknob and turned. The second the door opened, bullets clanged against the doorframe and they had to take cover.

“Oh shit!” Dreykov’s familiar accented voice echoed from the opposite end of the room. “Get back, get the fuck back!”

Clearly, he hadn’t expected them to be able to find him.

“We just want to talk, Dreykov!” Natasha called out, her knuckles white where they gripped her gun. “Put your gun down!”

“We ain’t got fuckin’ nothing to talk about!”

Dreykov fired his gun and the bullet grazed the door frame right where Natasha was standing. For a moment, Tony’s heart seized in terror at the near miss, before he shoved the feeling down and focussed back on the task at hand.

He wasn’t back on the night of the outbreak. This wasn’t his pregnant wife or Morgan. Nat knew what she was doing.

Dreykov tried to fire his gun again, but it was empty. Panicked, the man threw the weapon between them and began to run in the opposite direction.

“Shit, he’s running!”

Natasha took off first with Tony at the rear. Dreykov slammed a door in their faces in an attempt to slow them down, but all it took was one kick for the weak door to fly open and almost off its hinges. Tony tore after the man down alleys and through another building, before finally, the man hit a dead end in the name of a barbed wire fence. Desperately, Dreykov pulled on the gate preventing his escape, only for the chain wrapped around it not to budge.

Natasha moved in front of Tony, almost like a predator stalking her prey as she glared daggers into Dreykov’s back.

“Hello, Dreykov.”

“Nat. Tony.” Dreykov let out an awkward laugh as he turned around. His glasses were askew, body twitchy and ready to make a break for it. Tony could predict his movements from a mile away. “No hard feelings, right?”

“Oh.” Natasha bent down and picked up a metal pole from the ground. “None at all.”

Dreykov immediately tried to run, but Natasha was quicker. She slammed the pole into Dreykov’s knee and effectively tripped him over. The man fell face first into the concrete with a panicked cry as Natasha tossed the pole aside and stood over him. Blood started to pour out of his nose as he looked up at Natasha, eyes filled with fear.

“We missed you.”

“Look, look.” Dreykov looked between them. “Whatever you heard, it ain’t true, alright? I just want to say-”

“The guns. You want to tell us where the guns are?”

“Yeah… sure. But, it’s complicated.” When Tony advanced towards him, Dreykov’s panic only increased. “Look, just hear me out on this, I gotta-”

Tony cut him off by kicking him in the head with his foot. Then, he crouched down and took the man’s arm with the threat of breaking it.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Dreykov wheezed. “I’ll tell you where the fucking guns are, just stop!”

Tony stopped. Natasha also crouched and tilted her head menacingly.

“You were saying?”

“I sold them.”

Natasha looked at Tony before her eyebrows furrowed in anger. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice, I owed someone, alright?! I just need more time, just give me a week-”

“You know, I might’ve done that if you didn’t try to fucking kill me. Who has our guns?”

Dreykov hesitated for a moment, and Tony’s hands tightened around the man’s arm in warning. Even with the threat of a broken arm, Dreykov lied.

“I can’t.”

With a shake of his head, Tony broke Dreykov’s arm. Natasha doubled down.

“Who has our guns?”

“The Fireflies.” Dreykov heaved in pain. “I owed the Fireflies.”

Silence.

“What?”

“They’re basically all dead anyways, we can just go in there, finish them off and then we get the guns. What do you say?”

Tony and Natasha shared unbelieving glances with each other as they stood up. Tony couldn’t believe their stream of bad luck today, and it didn’t help the headache that had been looming for hours now. Natasha looked just as angry, probably more angry, as Dreykov pleaded for them to hear him out from the ground. Tony pretty much already knew the man’s fate, he’d known it the first time Natasha mentioned his name back in the apartment.

Natasha raised her gun and fired twice. Dreykov’s head exploded in a bloody mess, cut off mid-sentence. Tony just stared at him for a moment, then sighed and turned to the redhead.

“Well now what are we going to do?”

“We get our merchandise back.” At Tony’s raised eyebrows, Natasha shrugged. She looked shaken, almost. Tony resisted the urge to ask if she was alright because he knew the redhead would not appreciate it. Instead, he just let her talk. “We go in there and we explain it to them. Let’s just… let’s just find a Firefly.”

“You won’t have to look very far.”

Natasha and Tony tensed at the new voice behind them.

There was no telling how long she’d been hidden in the shadows. Carol, hunched over her bleeding stomach, took a few steps towards them with a gun in her hand. Her face was gaunt and sweaty, her clothes saturated with blood as she looked between them. Tony almost couldn’t believe it, he almost laughed from the absurdity. Carol didn’t seem to share the same amusement.

“Well, there you go. Queen Firefly.” Tony gestured to Carol. “Maybe one thing can go our way today.”

“What are you doing here?” Carol sneered, clearly struggling to hide how badly her wound was hurting her.

“Business. You aren’t looking so good.”

At Natasha’s words, Carol looked down at her stomach. When she looked back up, her eyes had hardened. Now, she looked very much like her wanted poster.

“Where’s Dreykov?”

Natasha smirked and stepped to the side. Dreykov’s head continued to bleed, a puddle growing around his body. Carol stared at the mess for a few seconds before she sighed in defeat.

“I needed him alive.”

Natasha didn’t hesitate. “Those guns he sold you, they weren’t his to sell. I want them back.”

Carol scoffed, then immediately winced.

“It doesn’t work like that, Romanoff.”

“Like hell it doesn’t.”

“I paid for those guns. So, you want them back? You’re going to have to earn them.”

Natasha turned to look at him, but Tony just shrugged. If it were up to him, he’d leave the fucking guns and go back to the zone. As much as he hated it there, guns weren’t worth all this.

Associating with the Fireflies was the last thing he wanted to top off his day with.

Associating with the Fireflies could easily cause either of their deaths.

But, those guns meant too much to Natasha for him to leave her in it alone.

“How many ration cards do you want?”

“I don’t give a shit about the ration cards. You’re smugglers. I need something smuggled out of the city. You do that for me, I’ll give you your guns back.”

Natasha looked like she was warming up to the idea, but Tony was skeptical. He stepped forward, arms crossed and disbelieving.

“How do we know you’ve even got the guns? The way I see it, the military’s been wiping you guys out.”

Carol nodded, and something akin to grief shone in her eyes for just a moment.

“You’re right about that. I’ll show you the weapons.”

Before Tony could open his mouth to interrogate her some more, the faint sound of someone talking through a radio put them all on alert.

“Search the area!”

“Yes, sir.”

Carol’s eyes widened. She started to stagger backwards, still holding her stomach.

“Shit. I gotta move, so what’s it gonna be?”

He and Natasha looked at each other, but Tony didn’t have to ask to know Natasha’s answer. She was determined to get her merchandise.

“I want to see those guns.”

“Alright, follow me.”




Chapter Text

A trek through alleys, across a rooftop and through an attic with a heavy metal sliding door later, the first of the soldiers came into view. Carol stopped then, her breaths heavy, her body almost fully hunched over with pain.

Tony could tell she was trying not to show how much pain she was really in, however she was doing a pretty awful job at that.

“Soldiers up ahead.” Carol turned to them, face even paler than it had been when they first saw her. “Our way out is the door under the bridge.”

“I’m not a big fan of these odds, Firefly Queen.” Tony muttered, aware of the soldiers just on the other side of the large crate the three of them were tucked behind. “You sure you’re not leading us into an ambush?”

“If you want those guns you have to trust me.” Carol snapped. Tony suspected the pain was making her easier to aggravate than normal. “We can sneak by them, even though I know that’s typically not your style.”

Carol narrowed her eyes at Tony as she spoke. Tony scoffed, but as he opened his mouth for rebuttal, Natasha cut him off.

“We’ll see how it goes. Let’s get moving.”

With the coast clear, the three of them swiftly moved between crates. The soldiers were on the other side of the gap beneath the bridge, far enough away that they could sneak by without arising suspicion. They crept up a flight of stairs, guns at the ready, only to duck again at the sight of soldiers a few steps away from them.

There were at least ten spread around the area, some far off in the distance where the staircase down to the door was located. Silently, they split up, Tony and Natasha headed left while Carol remained in position. She was eyeing up a lone soldier, fists clenched, a few drops of blood dripping onto the concrete as she waited.

Trusting that Carol wouldn’t take off on them, or die, Tony found his first target in a skinny hallway.

The soldier stood in one of the doorways, his back to Tony. When he was sure there were no other soldiers in the immediate area, Tony leapt over the barricade in the middle of the hallway and launched himself at the soldier and yanked him backwards. Before the soldier could scream, Tony squeezed and dragged him back into the hallway and out of sight.

When the soldier tried to talk, Tony covered his mouth with his other hand and squeezed tighter. Natasha crept by him and into the room the soldier had been guarding, not sparing Tony a glance as he finished the soldier off. He hid the body away from view and crept into the room just as he watched Natasha stab her soldier in the neck.

Through the smashed windows, Tony spotted Carol doing the same to another soldier outside. When the body was down and quiet, she joined them inside, eyebrows furrowed with agony as she climbed through the broken window as quickly as she could. Tony watched as she almost fell over when her feet hit the ground, sweat practically pouring off her face as she took a moment to catch her breath.

She was getting worse by the minute.

The three of them continued this technique until the entire inside area was clear of soldiers. Now, all that was left was the four soldiers between them and the staircase.

Using the construction equipment in the area to his advantage, Tony took out one soldier while Natasha took out another in quick succession. The other two remained none the wiser, in the middle of a quiet but furious discussion. Tony didn’t care to know what they were talking about as he picked up a brick and threw it as far as he could.

Both soldiers turned their heads in the direction of the broken brick, which gave Natasha the perfect opportunity to grab the one closest to her. Like expected, the other soldier noticed the scuffle immediately and went to raise his gun, but Carol hit him across the back of the head with a metal pipe before he could even think of pulling the trigger. Natasha stabbed the other one in the neck with her knife, and both bodies hit the floor with a thud.

Tony started to head down the stairs, listening carefully for any more soldiers, but despite his efforts he was too late to realise that one was about to step round the corner. They practically bumped into each other, the soldier letting out a startled sound as he started to reach for his gun. Tony punched him in the face hard before he could grab it and sent him stumbling back down the stairs. The soldier fell backwards, unable to prevent his head from smashing against the metal guard rail below.

The soldier slumped awkwardly on the ground, knocked out.

“Tony.” Natasha chastised, and for a moment, he heard Pepper’s voice instead of his friend’s. They always used the same tone when he did something reckless, or in Pepper’s case, playfully teased their daughter. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine.”

Well, maybe he was a little miffed that he’d almost fucked up.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself and be careful.” Natasha said as she walked by him. Her tone was firm, but as she passed, she squeezed his wrist for just a moment. It took Tony a second to realise it was an attempt at some kind of comfort. For who, he had no idea. “Let’s keep going.”

Tony could practically feel Carol’s eyes burning into the back of his head as she watched the interaction, but pointedly ignored the blonde as they got moving again.

Once they reached the door, Tony threw it open and ushered the women inside. Carol and Natasha shoved a large metal cabinet in front of the door so no soldiers could get in if they came looking for their men.

“Where are we going, Carol?”

Natasha was antsy, Tony could tell. He felt the same way.

He was starting to wonder if these guns were worth it.

“This way. It’s not too far now.”

Carol limped ahead, her breaths heavy. Tony had no choice but to blindly follow.

The room was filled with old boating equipment, the floor covered in water as they made there way through the dark room. Tony kept his eyes out for any useful supplies, but it had been stripped bare.

As they made their way out of the building and into an alleyway, that droning, infuriating voice echoed across the overhead speakers.

“Attention. Curfew is now in full effect. Anyone caught outside without proper authorisation will be arrested and prosecuted.”

“Shit, we need to hurry.” Natasha muttered, mostly to herself. “Carol?”

“It’s just up ahead.”

“The fuck are we smuggling?” Tony grumbled. This seemed like a whole lot of effort just to smuggle something out of the city. As they entered a more run down, trashed building that once looked like it could have been a garage, Tony felt some of his old snark rising. “Well, Firefly Queen? You sure you’re not leading us astray?”

“Would you stop calling me that?” Carol growled. Tony smirked in satisfaction. “We’re almost there. I’ll show you.”

As Carol lead them up yet another flight of stairs, the announcement repeated.

“Attention. Curfew is now in full effect. Anyone caught outside without proper authorisation will be arrested and prosecuted.”

The upstairs room was more trashed than the first, but still, no supplies.

“Fuck.” Carol swore as she tried to turn the door handle. No matter how hard she tried, she was too weak and too injured to push it open. It seemed her efforts to take out the soldiers had made her deteriorate quicker. “Tony, can you help me get this open?”

Tony opened the door for her, only for Carol to stumble and fall to her hands and knees when it opened. Tony, against his better judgment, hurried over to her crumpled body and attempted to help her up, only for frantic footsteps to approach him from behind.

An unrecognisable voice, a kid’s voice, echoed around the small room.

“Hey, get the fuck away from her!”

Tony turned around just in time to see Natasha catch the kid’s wrist, whose hand held a small butterfly knife in an iron grip. The kid, a teenage boy, struggled against her much stronger hold, clearly both terrified and angry as his eyes darted around the three adults.

“Let him go!” Carol snapped from her crouched position. When Natasha didn’t relent, the kid struggled even harder and Carol’s tone became more venomous. Tony didn’t point out that she wouldn’t be able to do much in the state she was in if Natasha decided to ignore her. “Natasha.”

Natasha and the kid stared at each other for a moment before the former let go. The kid yanked his arm away and stumbled backwards, the knife still shakily pointed in Tony’s direction.

The kid looked young. The longer Tony looked at him, the more the pit in his stomach grew. He looked twelve or thirteen, fourteen at most. Far too young to be living in a world like this. He looked nothing like Carol, which most likely ruled her out of being the kid’s mother, but a lot of children could look nothing like one of their parents. It was entirely possible that the commander of the Fireflies had a child.

That’s what he was. A child.

“Jesus, Firefly Queen. You’re recruiting kind of young, don’t you think?” Tony eyed the blonde, who glared up at him immediately at the nickname. “Or is he yours?”

“I said-” Carol groaned and hunched over again. She didn’t finish her sentence. “He’s not a Firefly, and no, he’s not mine.”

“Shit!” The kid suddenly exclaimed and pocketed his knife with rapid speed. He raced over to Carol and hovered over her, his angry demeanour gone and replaced with worry. “Are you okay? What happened out there, how did you get hurt?”

“Don’t worry about me. This is fixable.” Tony, wisely, didn’t comment on how she was basically on her deathbed right now. The kid continued to hover, his nervous energy taking up the entire room. It made Tony feel unsettled. “I got us help, but… I can’t come with you.”

The kid didn’t say anything for a moment. He looked at Natasha, and then Tony, before he looked back to Carol. At the same time, Tony’s mind started to make sense of things, and that pit in his stomach grew ten times bigger. There was no way… there was no way Carol was insinuating that this was the cargo they were to smuggle out of the city.

A kid.

“What?” The kid muttered. His next words came out defiant. “Well, then I’m staying with you.”

“Peter, this is our only chance. We won’t get another shot at this.”

“So you’re telling me, Firefly Queen, that we’re smuggling him?” Tony interrupted. The kid, Peter, turned back to look at him. His brown eyes shone with distrust, and it was like a truck hit Tony. His eyes were so similar to Morgan’s. Even more uncomfortable, Tony’s next words came out slightly shaky. “You’re not serious, right?”

“Stark, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” Tony just rolled his eyes, all his snark gone at the sudden reminder of his daughter. Peter looked at him again, and this time, he looked a lot more doe-eyed and innocent. Fuck, he was just a child. “There’s a crew of Fireflies that will meet you at the Capitol Building.”

Natasha scoffed. “The Capitol Building isn’t exactly close now is it.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage.” Carol sneered. “You hand him off to my men, come back, and then the weapons are yours. I’ll give you double what Dreykov sold me.”

“That reminds me. Where are the weapons, exactly?”

Carol had the decency look at least a little bit guilty. Natasha was practically fuming beside Tony now.

“Back at our camp.” Tony sighed and crossed his arms while Natasha let out an unamused laugh. They’d been played. “In that case, I won’t be smuggling shit until I see them.”

She stepped closer to Carol, and between the two women, Peter looked like a deer caught in headlights. Tony looked away and turned around for a moment, trying to stay cool himself. It had just been one fucking thing after the other today, and now they have to smuggle some teenager out of the city?

“You’ll follow me. I’ll get patched up while you verify the weapons, but there is no chance that I’m allowing Peter to go into that side of town.” Then, to Tony’s slight horror, Carol’s gaze turned towards him. “I want Tony to look after him.”

Tony and Peter both protested at the same time.

“Woah there, I don’t think that’s the best idea-”

“What?! That’s bullshit, I’m not going with him, you can’t be seri-”

“Peter.” Carol snapped, and Peter fell silent for just a second before he started up again.

“How do you even know these guys?”

“I used to be close with his brother Rhodey. He said if I ever got in trouble, I could rely on him.”

Rhodey’s name was enough to make that pit in his stomach increase yet again. Ignoring the pain that his best friend’s, brother’s name gave him, Tony forced a sneer onto his face.

“Was that before or after he left your little militia group?”

“I think you forget that he left you too.” If Carol was healthy, Tony was sure she’d be all up in his face right now. “He was a good man.”

“Tony, look- just take him to the north tunnel and wait for me there.”

“Nat, really? For fuck’s sake-”

“He’s just cargo, Tony! Just treat this like cargo.”

Tony really couldn’t believe his horrible luck. He looked away from all of them, trying to stomach the thought that he had to look after a kid. A random kid that was apparently important enough to be smuggled out of the fucking city, a random kid whose eyes were so similar to Morgan’s. Tony hadn’t looked after, or properly interacted, with a child in twenty years.

“Carol…” Peter tried again, but his attempt was futile.

“No more talking, Peter.” Carol winced and hunched in on herself for a moment, a small whimper leaving her lips. Tony was honestly surprised she’d made it this far in the state she was in. “It will be fine, you’ll be okay. Go with him.”

Peter’s shoulders slumped in resignation. Tony turned to Natasha with a stern look.

“Don’t take too long.” Natasha nodded, eyeing him with the slightest hint of worry. Tony ignored her concern and turned to the kid, who already had his eyes on him. He was wary of Tony, as he should be. “And you, stay close. Time to go.”

Without waiting, Tony opened the door that led outside. Peter followed him, arms crossed and a sullen look on his face.

Of course, the first thing he noticed was two dead bodies in the middle of the street.

“Damn, I heard all the shooting, but… what happened?”

“The Fireflies.” Tony replied, his tone gruff. “The same thing’ll happen to us if we don’t get off the street.”

“Whatever man, you’re the boss. I’ll just… follow you, I guess.”

As Tony started to lead him down a small staircase, another announcement echoed around them as a military truck drove by. They were far enough away to not be spotted, but the sight still made the hairs on Tony’s arms stand up.

“Attention. Haboring or aiding wanted criminals is punishable by death. Do not place yourself at risk. Report any suspicious activity immediately.”

Tony ignored the announcement he’d heard so many times before and led Peter to another set of stairs, but this time they lead to a short underground tunnel. Peter followed close behind, silent, when they popped up again on the other side. It was a tight squeeze between a stone fence and the back of a building, and when they were about halfway across, two more military vehicles could be heard approaching in the distance.

“Get down, kid!” Tony snapped as he quickly crouched behind the stone fence. Behind him, he heard Peter do the same, and the vehicles drove past none the wiser to their existence. Tony stood back up once he was sure the coast was clear, muttering to himself. “Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this.”

“I can’t believe this.” Peter’s voice was quiet, but not quiet enough to escape Tony’s ears. Peter was mocking him. “You can’t believe this? I can’t believe this shit.”

“You done?”

Peter fell silent.

The silence didn’t last for long.

When they arrived in a big open space between buildings, Peter started asking more questions at the same time the announcement repeated.

“Attention. Haboring or aiding wanted criminals is punishable by death. Do not place yourself at risk. Report any suspicious activity immediately.”

“Where are we going?”

Tony was already stood in front of a platform too tall to boost Peter up. The stairs it was connected to was the only way to get to the top of the building, and even if he could get the kid up, there’s no way he’d be able to lift Tony’s full weight up afterwards.

“Up there. Those stairs’ll get us to the north tunnel-”

“But how are we gonna get up there?” Peter asked before Tony had even finished. “You know, I could probably get up there if you boosted-”

“Kid.” Tony snapped, and Peter’s jaw clicked shut. “Just give me a minute, will you?”

“Fine, fine.” Peter kicked a stone and crossed his arms, very child-like behaviour. Tony was once again reminded of Morgan when she would have one of her rare tantrums. The pit in his stomach became a gaping hole. “Whatever, dude.”

Tony looked away from Peter and searched the area for something to climb on. For once today, he had some luck in his favour when he found an old garage. He dragged an old dumpster out and pushed it against the metal platform, then heaved himself onto it. From there, it was easy to climb, and he had to remind himself that he wasn’t travelling with Natasha right now as he turned around to help the kid up.

Peter didn’t need any help, however. He scrambled up onto the platform just as quick as Tony, brushing his already dirty hands off once he was stood upright. His brown curls bounced on his forehead as he looked up at Tony, hands on his hips as if he was daring the man to say something.

He didn’t. Tony instead turned around and headed up the stairs into the old apartment building that contained the tunnel, Peter’s footsteps loud behind him as they moved.

“So, this tunnel.” Peter started talking again. “Do you use it to smuggle things?”

“Yes.”

“So, like… illegal things?”

“Maybe.”

“Have you ever smuggled a kid before?”

“Can’t say I have. You’re the first one. Congrats.” Peter sped up a little to walk alongside at him, peering up at him with interest. Tony watched him out the corner of his eye, focussed on making his way through the apartment’s littered hallway without getting jumped by either a human or an infected. “So what’s the deal with you and Carol, huh, kid?”

“I don’t know, she’s my friend, I guess.”

“You’re friends with the Queen Firefly? Friends? You’re like twelve.”

“Hey!” Peter sounded offended. “I’m actually fourteen! Carol’s just been looking after me since, you know…”

“I don’t, actually.”

“She knew my parents.” Peter’s tone became reserved, and at this, Tony braved a look at the kid. Peter wasn’t looking at him, but Tony could still see the look in his eyes. Whatever he was thinking about, he looked haunted. It made Tony feel ill, to see that look on the kid’s face, but he shoved the emotion down just like all the rest. This wasn’t Morgan, and this wasn’t his unborn son. Just cargo. “My uncle, too. Carol’s just… it doesn’t matter.”

“Where are your parents, then? Your uncle?”

“Where do you think? Dead. Long gone, all of them, just like everyone else’s parents.”

Tony hadn’t expected Peter to be so blunt about it. It explained the haunted look in his eyes.

“So, what, you decided to run away from school to join the Fireflies and become buddies with the Queen Firefly? That's it?”

“I’m not supposed to tell you why you’re smuggling me, if that’s what you’re trying to get me to do.” Peter sneered. “Why do you keep calling her that?”

“I don’t know, it suits her. I like nicknames.” Tony replied. The truth is, he really didn’t know. Nicknames stuck when it came to Tony Stark. “You know, kid, the best thing about my job is that I don’t need to know why. Honestly, I don’t give a shit about what you and the Fireflies are up to. You’re cargo.”

“Good.” Peter just shrugged, then fell a few steps behind him. “Wait… can you give me a nickname?”

“No.” Tony muttered as he came up to a door at the end of the hallway. He opened it and gestured for Peter to go inside. “This is it.”

Tony closed the door behind Peter and let out a sigh. He took off his backpack as he made his way over to the worn couch in the middle of the room, his terrible day beginning to catch up on him as he slumped onto the uncomfortable leather. He dumped his backpack on the ground and moved so he was laying down, eyes already closed as he put an arm under his head to rest on.

The blissful silence only lasted a few seconds.

“What are you doing?”

“Really, Peter, what does it look like? Killing time.”

“But…” Peter huffed a little. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re a kid, I’m sure you’ll figure something out soon enough.”

Peter fell silent again, and Tony didn’t have to open his eyes to know the kid was staring directly at him as he walked past.

“Your watch is broken.”

Peter’s words hit him so hard it felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. He didn’t open his eyes, but when he was sure Peter was on the other side of the room and wasn’t looking in his direction, Tony moved so he could rub his thumb over the shattered glass of the watch that had stopped ticking long ago. Morgan’s voice filtered through his mind, though after twenty years, he wasn’t sure he remembered the exact way it sounded. He didn’t remember Pepper’s properly, either.

He caressed the watch that had belonged to Jarvis, the only father figure he truly had.

Not for the first time, he wondered what Jarvis would think of him at this point in time. With the amount of people Tony had killed, he knew the man would be disappointed in him, circumstances be damned.

Across the room, he heard Peter drop his backpack on the floor and shuffle around until he got himself seated. The kid sighed heavily and muttered something Tony couldn’t hear, then fell completely silent.

Soon enough, Tony’s day of constant bad luck caught up with him, and he managed to drift into a fitful sleep.

-

A baby was crying.

“Tony, can you go check on him, honey?” Pepper asked, sprawled out on the bed beside him, exhausted. She’d been awake all day and night caring for the baby, as had Tony, but it had taken more of a toll on his wife. Tony was used to staying up for days and nights at a time, so he didn’t hesitate to agree. “Thank you.”

He gave Pepper a quick kiss before he slipped out of bed and into the hallway. The baby’s cry was so loud and pained, which made Tony’s heart race as he picked up his pace towards the baby’s room. They’d transformed the old upstairs office into a nursery before the baby arrived so he was next door to his big sister.

Once he checked on the baby, he would check on Morgan. She tended to get woken up just as much when the baby started to cry at night.

“Shh, I’m coming, baby boy.” Tony said as he opened the door.

He still couldn’t remember his own child’s name.

He didn’t make it as far as a step into the room when he froze.

There was blood everywhere. Morgan was slumped against the crib, her stomach bleeding profusely, her eyes open but unseeing. The baby’s cry had stopped, the sheets soaked with red. The culprit stood in the middle of the room, twitching violently as it turned around to face him. Yinsen, covered in blood and gore, barely gave Tony a second glance before he screamed and launched at him.

They crashed to the floor with a thud. Yinsen snapped his teeth at him in desperation, Tony unable to keep the infected off him.

Just as Yinsen’s teeth dug into Tony’s neck, his eyes snapped open.

He didn’t make a sound as he stared up at the roof, the terror quickly leaving him.

All his dreams were of the same variation. He was at home, living a life without the outbreak, with a baby he could never name. That was because the baby never got a name.

“You mumble a lot in your sleep.” Tony had to hide his jolt of fright at the sudden voice. He’d completely forgotten that he had a teenager in the room with him, the teenager that was apparently so important that he needed to smuggle him out of the city. “I hate nightmares.”

Tony sat up, his heart still pumping frantically as he glanced to Peter.

Peter was still sat in the same spot, knees pulled to his chest as he gazed out the window. He had something in his hands, his fingers twisting it over and over. It was too dark to see what it was.

Night had fallen during the time Tony was asleep, and so had the rain. It pounded against the ceiling so loud that it was almost a decent enough distraction from the war raging inside of his head.

“Me too, kid.” Tony sighed and rubbed his hand down his face.

“I’ve never been this close before.” Peter’s tone was full of wonder as Tony dragged himself off the couch and grabbed his backpack. “You know, to the outside. It’s so… dark. It can’t be any worse out there than it is in here, can it?”

When Tony didn’t reply, Peter finally turned to look at him.

“Can it?”

Tony, as much as he didn’t want the teen anywhere near him, couldn’t help the need to shield him from the horrors of the rest of the world. Peter was so naive to the real horror outside the zones, as he had more than likely lived his whole life inside one. He didn’t act on the urge, and instead, turned away to turn on an old lamp.

“Tony…” Peter trailed. “Is it really that ba-”

“What the hell do the Fireflies want with you?” Tony cut him off. Peter’s shoulders slumped and a crease appeared between his brows, but he kept his lips firmly sealed. “You’re just a… you’re a kid. Last time I checked, the Fireflies don’t keep kids around unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Peter didn’t budge, but for a moment, Tony thought he saw a hurt look on his face. Now that there was some light in the room, he could catch a glimpse of what the kid had in his hands.

It was a small badge. It was a circular shape that was mostly red, but had what looked like white eyes with a black outline. More black lines were painted over the red, almost like a spiderweb, but the wonky enough that Tony had no idea what it was supposed to be.

It became clear that Peter wasn’t going to grace him with a response. Tony sighed, rolled his eyes, and was about to walk away to sit back down when the door suddenly opened.

Natasha.

The redhead looked more of a mess than the last time Tony saw her. She was drenched and covered with mud, her hair matted against her forehead as he made her way into the room. The bruise beneath her eye had darkened into a more ugly, dark colour, but some of the blood that had dried to her skin had washed away thanks to the rain. Tony was relieved to see her alive.

“Hey, sorry I took so long. There’s soldiers crawling around everywhere, I saw-”

“How’s Carol?” Peter interrupted. He was now crouched on the ground, pinning the small badge to his backpack. There were a few other badges, mostly pop culture references from before the outbreak. Most kids had no idea about old movies and books. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, she’ll make it.” Natasha’s tone was almost dismissive as she turned to Tony. While Natasha was better with kids than him nowadays, it was still a sore spot. Peter was about the same age as her little sister when she died. He was sure the kid reminded her of her pain, too. “I saw the guns. It’s a lot. You wanna do this?”

“If I don’t, you’ll just do it on your own.”

Natasha shrugged. “What’s it gonna be?”

Tony refused to look at the kid, refused to think of the last time he had kids in his care, refused let any of his inner turmoil show on his face.

“We’re doing it.”

Natasha nodded at him, glanced at Peter, then began to head through the door that contained the lift. As Tony stood back to let Peter pass, he noticed that the kid was holding his wrist like he was in pain.

Unable to quell the urge to ask, the words were already out of his mouth.

“You hurt, kid?”

Peter, again, looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine.” Peter removed his hand like he’d been burned. “Just, um… cold.”

Tony didn’t believe him, but there was no visible blood staining his sleeve, so he let it go for now. 

When they stepped into the next room, Natasha was looking out the window.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that the Fireflies have us doing their smuggling?” Tony asked. “There wasn’t anyone else to do their dirty work?”

“Carol wanted to do it herself, but she’s lost too many men, and with the state she was in, she’d get herself and Peter killed.” Natasha turned around, regarded him with a hard look, before she advanced towards the bookcase that concealed the entrance to the lift. “We weren’t the first, or second, options. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully someone’ll be alive to pay us. Especially if there’s as many soldiers out there as you say there are. You just said it, the Fireflies aren’t exactly big in numbers right now.”

“There will be someone around, Tony.”

That marked the end of their tense conversation. Natasha slipped through the hole in the wall first, followed by Peter, and then Tony. The former headed onto the small elevator platform as Tony went for the generator. With three tugs, it turned on with a roar, and Natasha pressed the button to begin the descent the second Tony’s feet hit the platform.

“Who’s waiting for us at the drop off?”

“She said there’s some Fireflies that have travelled all the way from another city.” Natasha turned to Peter. “Kid must be important to them if it warrants travelling through cities. What are you, some Firefly commander’s son, or something?”

Tony’s earlier conversation with the kid about his parents came to mind when Peter shrugged.

“Uh, something like that, I guess. I’m not supposed to tell you.”

The lift reached the bottom with a clang. Tony and Natasha switched on their flashlights as they stepped into the basement, Tony already headed towards the tunnel.

“How long is this going to take?” Peter asked.

“If everything goes to plan, we should have you delivered to them in a few hours.” Tony crouched down and started to lead the pair through the north tunnel. “Peter, once we get there, I need you to follow our lead no matter what. Stay close, listen to everything we say. I mean it.”

“Okay.”

Tony emerged at the end of the tunnel, where the ladder to the outside waited for him. With the knowledge that Peter and Natasha were on his heels, he began to climb up the ladder without looking back. When he reached the top, he slowly pushed the wooden pallet covering the exit away so he could peer out into the surrounding area.

“There’s a patrol up ahead.” He warned as he watched the soldiers move around in the distance. Their flashlights shone in the rain, but eventually, they disappeared from view and the coast was clear. “Alright, come on, kid. Watch your step.”

Peter pulled himself out next, followed by Natasha. Tony quickly moved the pallet back over to conceal the ladder and switched off his flashlight.

“Shit, I’m actually outside.” Peter exclaimed as they stepped out into the open. Rain immediately drenched Tony’s clothes, though the summer night was warm enough that it didn’t bother him. He spared a glance at Peter, who was looking around the dump of an environment like it was the most amazing thing in the world. He didn’t seem to care about the rain either. “Woah… Look how massive the wall is. I can’t believe it.”

There wasn’t much to marvel at. On their right was the giant zone wall with a large spotlight monitored by the military illuminating the ground below. They were looking out for people trying to sneak in or out. They were looking for people like them.

All that was ahead of them was mud, concrete barriers and an old truck, which was half buried beneath mounds of dirt and rubble. The back was open and easy to climb into, which proved to be their best option in getting to higher ground.

“Up here.” Tony said as he jumped into the truck.

It was empty aside from a few crates at the very end that he had to squeeze through. He moved slowly, alert in case of the patrol he spotted earlier, but the sound of the rain hitting the truck obscured his ability to hear clearly. When he was sure the coast was clear, Tony stepped out of the truck, only to immediately get hit in the head with the butt of a gun.

Dazed, Tony crumbled to the floor as a soldier stepped around him with her gun and mounted flashlight shining in his face.

For a moment, he had Morgan in his arms, begging for his daughter’s safety.

“Don’t even think about doing anything stupid.” The solider’s tone was emotionless as she directed her gun from Tony to Peter, who still stood in the truck, arms raised and eyes filled with fear. As Peter stepped into the open, Tony thought about disarming the soldier, but that idea was gone before it could even begin when he saw a second soldier with their gun pointed at Natasha’s back inside the truck. “Turn around, on your knees.”

Fuck.

Peter did as he was told as Tony got to his knees himself. The side of his head pounded from the hit, but he ignored it as he watched Natasha do the same.

“You scan them, I’ll call it in.”

“Alright.” The other soldier, male, approached Natasha first. With one hand, he grabbed a Cordyceps reader from his holster, the other still had his handgun pointed at Natasha’s head. “Put your hands on your head.”

In the background, he could hear the female soldier talking into her radio.

“This is Carter at Sector Twelve. Requesting pickup for three stragglers.”

Whatever the person on the other end replied, Tony couldn't understand through the crackle of the radio and the sound of heavy rain.

The Cordyceps reader beeped as it scanned Natasha.

“Hey, why don’t you look the other way.” She tried to bargain with him. “We can make this worth your while.”

“Shut the fuck up.” The soldier snapped as the Cordyceps reader beeped again. “Clean. I’m getting tired of this shit.”

The soldier moved to Tony next. The Cordyceps reader was cold against the back of his neck as it beeped twice. In the corner of his eye, he could see Peter shifting uncomfortably. Tony turned his head to look at the kid, unnerved by his sudden fidgety behaviour.

It looked like he was panicking.

“Clean.” The soldier moved to the kid and placed the reader on the back of his neck. “What’s the ETA?”

Peter’s breathing picked up substantially.

“Oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit.”

Then, to Tony’s surprise, the kid pulled out his knife and stabbed the soldier in the knee quicker than he could blink. The soldier screamed in pain as his knee buckled, and Tony took the chance to tackle him to the ground. The Cordyceps reader flew from his hand and clattered onto the ground as another gunshot echoed out behind them, along with the thud of a body. Tony didn’t think about it as he forced the soldier’s hand to pull the trigger and shoot himself in the head.

When he turned around, Natasha was stood over the body of the female soldier.

“Oh…” Peter stammered from the ground as he backed up against a crate covered up by a tarp. His breathing was hoarse as he looked between the dead soldiers, then Tony and Natasha. “Oh… oh fuck. I thought- I thought we were just going to hold them up or something, I didn’t-”

Peter’s breathing wasn’t normal. The kid had one hand on his chest, the other clenched in a tight fist where it rested on his knee.

“Fuck.” The kid wheezed, then let out a pained noise on the borderline of a whine. “N-not n-now-”

“Tony.” Tony’s head snapped to the side at the tone of Natasha’s voice. “Take a look at this.”

Natasha had picked up the Cordyceps reader. Suddenly, something terrible settled in his gut as his friend tossed the reader at him. He caught it, the kids wheezing getting louder and more desperate as he stared down at the word blinking back at him on the screen.

POSITIVE

Tony’s was sure his brain short circuited for a second.

Then, the fury came.

Of course. Of fucking course the Fireflies would do this to them, of course they would pass off an infected kid to be their fucking problem.

“Carol set us up.” Tony growled as he turned to Natasha. “Why the fuck are we smuggling an infected boy?”

“W-wait!” Peter coughed as he struggled to take his backpack off. “I c-can’t b-breathe-”

Natasha pulled out her gun and aimed it at the kid. This seemed to make Peter panic even more, his movements even more frantic as he ripped open his backpack and started to rifle through it, the wheezes becoming louder and harsher by the second. Even though Tony could hardly see through his rage, he started to realise that something else was going on here.

Whatever was going on with the kid, he wasn’t turning. Yet.

“Fuck, w-where the f-fuck is it.” Peter choked. “Shit.”

“Kid.” Natasha snapped. “You better explain real fucking fast before I put a bullet in your head."

Peter didn’t answer, and Tony saw Natasha tense beside him.

Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for. He brought the object to his face, shoved it in his mouth and pressed down. He inhaled deeply, eyes closing for a brief moment with relief, before they shot open again and looked directly at Natasha.

Peter had an asthma puffer in his hand.

Asthma.

Peter took another puff of medicine before he lowered the puffer and raised his shaking hands.

“I-I’m not infected!” There was still a faint wheeze in his voice. “I’m not, I can explain everything!”

Peter lowered his arms, dropped his puffer back into his backpack before he yanked up his sleeve.

No wonder he’d been holding his wrist earlier.

A large bite mark covered Peter’s forearm. It was red, puffy, with obvious teeth marks indented into his skin. The slight concern at watching Peter have an asthma attack in front of them was pushed away and was replaced with anger.

“Look at this!”

“Jesus, I don’t care how you got in infected.”

Tony couldn’t look at the bite mark anymore.

“Just listen to me, it’s three weeks old!”

“Bullshit.” Natasha growled. “Everyone turns within two days, cut the crap.”

“It’s three weeks, I swear!” Peter’s eyes frantically darted between the both of them. “What just happened- that wasn’t- that was a fucking asthma attack, I’m not turning! Why would Carol set you up? Why would I- why would I lie about this?”

“For the same reason everyone else lies about their infections.” Tony snapped. “I’m not buying it.”

Peter looked like he could cry, both out of frustration and fear.

Before he could defend his case any further, the sound of a military vehicle approaching met Tony’s ears. He turned around just as blinding headlights came into view. He’d completely forgotten that the soldiers they’d just killed had called for backup.

“Nat, we have to run!” Tony kicked into action. “Run!”

“Shit.” Natasha lowered her gun from Peter and instead hurried over to him to yank him up. “Come on, get up! Move!”

Tony didn’t hesitate to jump from the edge of the ledge they’d just climbed through the truck. It was a fair jump, but it was one he had made many times before, and he landed on his feet with only a jolt of pain through his knees. Natasha followed quickly, landing with a wet thud beside him. When there wasn’t a third thud, he looked up to see Peter still stood on the ledge, hesitating.

“Come on, kid!” The car and the soldiers were getting closer. If he waited any longer, he would get spotted. “Jump!”

“Shit!” Peter cursed as he jumped down.

Just from the way he was falling, Tony could tell Peter wasn’t going to land on his feet, and made a last second decision to reach out and catch the kid the best he could. Peter slammed into him with a pained grunt, but he managed to slow the kids fall enough that he didn’t snap an ankle. Peter clutched onto him for a moment, but quickly let go when Tony forced him to run.

Natasha was already making her way under another old truck as the soldier’s emptied out of their vehicle above.

“I’ve got two dead uniforms. I repeat, I’ve got two casualties in Sector Twelve. Requesting immediate backup.”

They emerged on the other side of the truck and took cover behind an old concrete pillar. Peter was wheezing slightly again as he pulled his sleeve back over the bite mark with a trembling hand.

The fucking bite mark.

He couldn’t think about that now. When they got out of here, alive, he could dwell on it.

The zone’s alarm started to blare around the area as more spotlights started to search the area. It continued to rain just as hard, their clothes covered in mud and drenched with water as they waited for an opportunity to move. Natasha turned to Peter, her voice serious.

“Alright, Peter. When I give you the signal, you run. Got it?”

“G-got it.”

“Now!”

Natasha took off first, followed by Peter and Tony. They huddled behind an old ute, then an excavator, before dropping off a shorter ledge into a ravine. Peter made the jump on his own this time and followed close behind Natasha as Tony took up the rear.

Using the ledges of the ravine as an advantage, they swiftly moved between each just as the soldier’s flashlights left the area. They remained undetected as they approached a bridge at the same time another military truck arrived with more soldiers. Cursing, Tony followed Natasha and Peter through a short tunnel into a much slimmer ravine with less dark places to hide.

“Over there.” Peter suddenly whispered and pointed to soldiers up ahead.

“I see them, just stay back.”

A soldier called out to another overhead.

“They must’ve gotten through. Check the trenches!”

Shit.

They remained hidden in the shadows as the soldier’s swept at the area in front of them. About a minute later, they started to spread out.

“I don’t see anything down there. Are you sure they came this way?”

“Unless we’re told otherwise, we just keep scanning.”

Tony prepared to move. “Just stay down, don’t let them see you. Keep in the shadows.”

“Follow Tony, kid.”

Tony once again used the ledges the soldiers were standing on to sneak beneath them, only switching sides when their flashlights got dangerously close. Thankfully, Peter stuck behind him like glue while Natasha watched out for soldiers behind them. Eventually, after a tense few minutes of stealthily weaving through the debris and dodging flashlights, they found a small alcove to hide in filled with knee-deep water. However, just as Natasha dropped in, a flashlight spotted her retreating form.

Immediately the soldier raised the alarm.

“Did you see that?”

“Come on.” Tony snapped as he hopped up on the other side. They ran as quietly as they could up the various ledges that used to be a structure, and just barely managed to reach the top before more soldiers came into view. “Get down!”

Compared with the inside of the zone, these buildings were in worse stages of deterioration. Half of the structures lacked ceilings or walls, only a few left staining as they snuck through them. Tony led them up the remains of a wooden staircase to jump into the next building while soldiers yelled at each other in the distance.

They dropped into some kind of garage, Tony already pulling on the chain of the roller door.

“Get under, Peter. Quick!” Natasha said as she got herself under the door to hold it open for Tony and Peter.

Both Peter and Tony hurried under the garage door before Natasha lowered it carefully to the ground. They were out in the open now, the tall, half-standing buildings looming dangerously over them as flashlights approached from down the street. They used an old police car and tank as cover to move around the group of soldiers before they could get to close, but there was no way they could get past them just by going through the street.

Tony lead them into a building instead, but this one didn’t offer much cover. Its walls were mostly gone, and aside from some old furniture scattered around, there weren’t many places to hide from the soldier’s flashlights.

“There’s so many of them.” Peter whispered as the soldiers started to separate. “How are we supposed to get past?”

Tony ignored Peter as he advanced ahead. No matter where he tried to go, a soldier was there.

Two soldiers entered the room they were in and split in opposite directions. Hoping Natasha would follow suit, Tony steeled himself and prepared to take one of them out.

The second the other soldier turned his head, Tony grabbed his target and dragged them to cover. Just as expected, Natasha grabbed the other one and plunged her knife into his neck, while Peter continued to hide behind an old cooler, eyes wide as he watched Tony choke out the soldier. He didn’t look as scared as Tony might’ve thought, which meant the kid had to have seen some shit in his past.

It would make sense since the kid was already infected.

Now wasn’t the time to think about that.

Once the soldier was rendered unconscious, Tony dumped his body and prepared to sneak to their next cover. There were two more soldiers just on the other side of what was left of a wall, and he was almost surprised that they hadn’t been spotted.

Just as he was about to take off, one of the soldier’s radios came to life.

“Got anything, Zemo?” All three of them froze. A second passed before the soldier spoke again. “Zemo, come in. Someone check Zemo’s location.”

“We have to move.” Natasha urged, but before he could, another soldier entered the building.

“Moving on Zemo’s last known location.” The new soldier muttered, headed straight for Tony. Thankfully, there was only one of them. Tony should be able to take him out and leave before any others arrived. “There’s nothing, sir. Schmidt is also missing, they’ve vanished. Possible stragglers in the area, possible casualties, requesting back-”

The soldier’s flashlight lit up the three of them as he turned around to look behind the cooler. At the same time, Tony grabbed his gun, tossed it away and shoved a shiv into the man’s throat before he could alert the others. He choked, grabbing for his neck, but it was no use. He was as good as dead.

However, before Tony could grab him, the man toppled backwards with a crash that was loud enough to alert the whole team of soldiers.

“Tony, we have to move!” Natasha urged again. “They’re going to fucking kill us if we wait here any longer. We have to run now!”

The soldier’s radio crackled as Tony assessed their options. Judging by flashlights, three soldiers were on the approach. Natasha was right, there’s no other way to get out of this one.

“Now, go!”

Tony grabbed Peter’s arm to get him moving as he sprinted out from behind the cooler. The kid stumbled a few times before he got his footing, and only then did Tony let go. Gunfire began as they dodged all the debris in the buildings, and Tony could only pray that there was an escape somewhere further ahead. If not, they were all dead.

Thankfully, after under quick crawl underneath a truck, Tony saw their next hiding spot.

There was a large, gaping hole in the road that extended down to the sewers. Tony booked it down the jagged road as bullets rained down around him, Natasha and Peter close behind. Finally, they made it down to another tunnel that exited into a pitch black room underground.

Once he was on his feet, he turned on his flashlight and breathed a slight sigh of relief. They weren’t safe yet, but it was much safer down here than it was out there.

Peter’s wheezy breaths made it to his ears as the kid climbed out of the tunnel, eyebrows creased with the struggle to breathe as he got to his feet. He didn’t look at Tony or make a move to grab his inhaler.

They were smuggling a kid with a bite mark and asthma out of the city. Having asthma in an apocalypse was almost a death sentence, yet somehow, the kid had managed to get medicine. Whether that was through the Fireflies or wherever he lived before, the chances of getting more were slim.

Why did Natasha have to get them involved with the Fireflies?

“This looks right.” Natasha sounded out of breath herself. “Kid, you alright over there?”

Purposely ignoring the Peter-sized elephant in the room, then.

“I’m fine.” Peter nearly snapped, a particular edge to his tone. Natasha raised her hands in surrender, eyebrows raised. Her mocking attitude only seemed to make Peter irritated, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked away from the adults and crossed his arms. Tony noticed one hand move to squeeze his bite-covered wrist. “I said I’m fine.”

“Alright, then. Whatever you say.” Natasha turned to Tony. “How’s it looking?”

“I think we can squeeze through there.” Tony pointed to a jagged hole in the bricks. He could hear the rain coming from outside, and it was the only clear exit to the room. “We’re not out of this shit yet.”

Tony glanced at Peter as he said this. The kid’s irritation was already gone, his expression fairly blank for a kid that was infected, had asthma, and was on the run from hundreds of soldiers outside the zone.

Infected.

For three weeks.

It just didn’t make any sense.

Tony went through the small opening first and had to bite his tongue to stop himself from cursing when he hit his head on one of the bricks. Grumbling, he crawled through the small space on his stomach, thankful to make it out the other side without it caving in on him.

However, his gratitude didn’t last long when he saw more flashlights up above. The soldiers were the only obstacle between their next cover, another beaten and broken building that used to be connected to the one they were in.

“More soldiers up ahead.” Tony whispered to the others. “I don’t think they can see us.”

Once they made it into another dark, dirty but safe place, Peter’s wheezing became worse.

“A-are we safe?”

“No.” Natasha’s flashlight illuminated Peter’s face and the kid squinted. “There’s still too many out there, but you can have a moment to rest. Tony, see if you can find anything useful in here.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

“Shit.” Peter slumped against an old locker as he took off his backpack once again.

It was silent between them as Peter took another puff of his inhaler. Tony looked through all the lockers and cabinets for supplies, thankful to find more rags and sharp objects to make more shivs. Just as he shoved the last of what he found into his bag, Peter put his inhaler away, his fingers lingering on that same badge again before he zipped up the backpack.

Tony almost wanted to ask about its significance, but instead, turned away and looked for their next path.

He soon discovered a large concrete pipe big enough to stand in. He shone his flashlight down the opening that wasn’t blocked with debris, and from where he was standing, it looked clear, aside from the ankle-deep water and some trash. Even if it hadn’t been clear, they would have had to force themselves through, because this was their only option.

It was this, or go the way they came and get shot up by FEDRA.

“We should be able to make it out through this pipe.” He said when Natasha and Peter caught up to him. Peter’s backpack was back on his back, his cheeks less flushed and his breathing much quieter. “Stay very close, kid.”

“Yeah, I know.”

At the end of the pipe there was an opening with a barred gate at the end, definitely an old sewer. The water became deeper and was now at waist height, in which Tony and Natasha didn’t hesitate to drop in to. Again, just like at the ledge, the third splash failed to meet his ears and a sudden frustration sparked in his chest as he turned around to see what the kid was doing.

Peter stood behind, still higher up in the ankle deep water, hesitant once again.

Before Tony could tell Peter to hurry the fuck up, flashlights shone through the grate above them as one of the military cars came to life. The sudden noise seemed to kick Peter into gear, and with a brief look of raw panic on his face, he dropped into the water with a splash.

There was no time to question Peter’s hesitation. Tony gestured for the kid to get behind him as voices echoed above them, gun out just in case they were spotted through the grate. Moving now could cause too much noise, and even though the rain and the engine would most likely muffle any sounds they made, Tony wasn’t willing to risk it. Natasha had stopped too, hidden in the darkness further ahead, her gun out and ready.

“Gather up, they’re calling us back. We’re heading back to the wall!”

Tony waited until he was absolutely sure the vehicle was gone before moving. Natasha made it to the gate before him, and before he could offer to help, she shouldered the gate hard enough to burst it open.

The second Peter was outside, he sat down and rubbed his face with his hands. Natasha kneeled beside him while Tony moved a few steps away, listening for any signs of remaining soldiers.

There was nothing. All he could hear was the rain hitting the ground. They were all gone.

“Look, Peter. What was the plan? We deliver you to the Fireflies, then what?”

“Carol…” Peter paused and took a breath. “Carol told me the Fireflies have their own quarantine zone with doctors there that are still trying to find a cure. She said that whatever happened to me is the key to making a… a vaccine.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Tony almost groaned. It sounded like pure bullshit. Peter is infected, that should be all there is to it. Thinking about a cure to the virus was almost an hilarious joke. People had given up on a cure ever being possible by the fifth year of the outbreak. “We’ve heard all kinds shit like this before, haven’t we, Nat?”

“Dude, I’m just telling you what she said!”

“I’m still not buying it, kid.” Tony snapped. “I find anything you say hard to believe with those teeth marks and pus on your fucking arm.”

“Hey!” Peter snapped and got to his feet. Just like before, the sudden irritation made Peter’s eyes harden as he glared daggers at Tony. Even through his anger, Tony didn’t miss the kid’s trembling hand as he pointed an accusing finger at Tony. “Fuck you, man! Do you think I asked for this? It’s not like I went up to that freak and went ‘Hey, do you want a snack? Here’s my arm!’”

“You didn’t ask for this? Neither did I.” Tony let out a bark of unamused laughter before he rounded on Nat, who had been watching the fight with a neutral expression. However, it immediately changed when Tony met her eyes. “What the hell are we doing here, Nat?”

“What if it’s true?”

“Really?” Tony exclaimed in disbelief. “You’re joking, right? You’re really buying into this shit?”

“What if, Tony. We’ve come this far, why not just finish it?”

Tony couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. He grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her a few steps from Peter, who continued to glare daggers at Tony. However, there was something broken in his expression, but he was too angry to wonder what had put that look on his face.

“Do I need to remind you what is out there?” Tony pointed towards the darkened, ruined city. “None of this is worth the risk.”

Natasha stared at him for a long time, but this time, Tony could tell she was analysing him.

Then, she turned to look at Peter. Her eyes softened, and Tony knew before she even opened her mouth that he wasn’t going to like what came out of it.

“Oh, Tony.” She sighed. “I get it.”

It was never a surprise when Natasha could see right through him.

The bombed city would be crawling with infected of all stages, more so clickers and stalkers in comparison to runners. While he didn’t want to admit it to himself, Tony couldn’t stand the thought of bringing a kid anywhere near a place like this. Especially an asthmatic and infected kid.

But, Peter was also right, he didn’t ask for any of this. As much as Tony wanted to doubt it, the kid had showed zero signs of turning since they met hours ago. Most people would have started to show symptoms by now, but Peter seemed to be completely fine. If everything he said was true, if the bite was really three weeks old…

Natasha walked away without giving Tony a chance to reply. Peter, after giving him another glare, stormed past him without a word.

Tony bowed his head and clutched onto his watch for a few seconds. Rain dripped off his face as he stared at the muddy ground, questioning his existence, and not for the first time.

“This way!” Natasha called out, her way of breaking him out of his grief-induced daze. “If we cut through downtown we can make it to the Capitol building by sunrise.”

Tony let go of his watch and let his hand drop to his side.

He had no other choice but to follow.

Chapter Text

“Holy shit. This is what these buildings look like up close? Woah.”

Peter stared up at the skyscrapers, mouth hung open with awe. Tony wished he could find excitement out of these things, but as he peered up at the massive, half-damaged skyscrapers, all he could think about was the horrors hiding behind those walls.

That, and the fact that the two buildings closest to them were leaning precariously against each other.

Tony hoped this wasn’t the night where one, or both, collapsed.

“They’re so tall.” Peter continued. “Was there more than this, back before, you know…”

“Yeah. There were many cities all across the world, most had skyscrapers just like this.” Even Natasha looked up at the buildings. Without having to ask, Tony knew she was thinking about her sister. While they didn’t talk about their past much, or ever, Tony knew from passing conversation that Natasha used to live in a city like this before the outbreak hit. “This is what’s left. If you saw a picture of what Boston looked like before the outbreak, you’d love it.”

Something in Natasha’s tone had softened as she spoke.

“But what happened?” Peter asked. “Did the infected do this?”

“No. FEDRA bombed the hell out of the areas surrounding all the quarantine zones to try to kill as many infected as they could, and it worked, for a while.” Natasha sighed and looked back down. “Then, FEDRA gave up on trying to control the infected and it all went back to shit. This is just what’s left. There’s no controlling it, so now we just have to live with it.”

As if on queue, a gargled scream from one of the buildings echoed around them. Tony couldn’t place where it had come from, or how far away it was, which only made the rainy night more eerie. Tony’s heart leapt in his chest and Peter jumped in alarm, but Natasha didn’t react at all.

“Uh, what the hell was that?” The kid asked, finally distracted from the skyscrapers. “Infected?”

Natasha answered before Tony could. “Yeah, but it sounds pretty far away. We should be okay.”

“Are we safe?”

“For now.”

The redhead was right, but Tony couldn’t help but feel even more on edge as they made their way up the rubble of what used to be a bridge. Unsurprisingly, the rest of the bridge was destroyed once they reached the top of the slope, and instead they had to crawl through the remains of another building. Just as he expected, on the other side there was still no way down to reach the rest of downtown, and even Tony couldn’t make the jump, let alone the kid.

Their only way through was through one of the skyscrapers, The Goldstone Building. The sign was still standing, completely undamaged but covered in dirt. It most likely used to be an office building.

“We’re going in there?” Peter asked as he stared at the building with wide eyes.

“It’s our only way through.” Tony sighed as he headed towards the rubble at the base of the building. He could see an open door just up ahead, lit up by his flashlight. He didn’t want to go inside as much as the kid did, but it was their only shot. “Come on, kid.”

Tony wasn’t quite sure how to feel when the first thing he saw after he entered the building was a mangled, bloody corpse of a FEDRA soldier. He knew the military sometimes sent their soldiers out to the buildings to search for supplies, and it was obvious this one didn’t quite make it back to the quarantine zone.

“Oh my God.” Peter muttered when he spotted the gruesome sight lit up by Tony’s flashlight. “That’s not good.”

“No.” Tony muttered with a frown. “It’s not.”

“He’s been torn apart.” Natasha stated the obvious. “The body’s pretty fresh.”

“Is that bad?” Peter’s voice rose an octave as he stared at the body, then around the dark room as if something was going to jump out of the shadows. Honestly, Tony didn’t blame the kid for being scared shitless. If it were stalkers that did this, they would jump out of the shadows. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”

“It could be. Let’s not stick around.”

Peter didn’t need to be told twice. Tony kept an eye out for supplies as he moved from room to room, hyper aware of every sound that met his ears. It didn’t take long to come across another FEDRA body in a staircase landing, leant up against the wall with a clipboard beside them. It was soaked with blood, and Tony avoided reading it in favour of looking at the body.

It was mangled, just like the other body. An infected’s doing.

“Another one.” Peter’s face was a little pale. “What are we gonna do?”

“We’re gonna keep moving, the infected that did this could still be around.”

Tony turned away from the body and headed further up the stairs in the hopes of not seeing any more mangled soldiers. Peter let out an annoyed huff at his tone, but didn’t say anything else and started to follow him.

However, what he found in the next room made him prefer to look at bodies of dead FEDRA soldiers.

“Fuck, a clicker.”

The clicker corpse was fused to the door, covered in infection, jaw wide open and clearly broken. It was long dead, but still disgusting to look at.

“Dude… what is that?” Peter sounded horrified when he finally caught sight of the clicker. The kid had probably never even seen a clicker before. He probably hadn’t even known it existed, let alone stalkers or bloaters. Tony hoped there wasn’t any of those lurking within the skyscraper. Older infected never got close enough to the zones for sheltered kids like Peter to see. “What’s wrong with its face?”

“That’s what years of infection will do to you.” Natasha said. “You hear one clicking, you have to hide or else it’ll spot you. Clickers aren’t easy to evade once they spot you, especially if you don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“But where’s its eyes?” Peter stepped a little closer to peer at the dead clicker, curious. For a split second, Tony saw Morgan in his workshop, asking him a million questions about his work. Her eyes would shine with curiosity even when Tony was telling the most boring of stories. Pepper had always said Morgan was just like him. “Is it blind, or something?”

“They see using sound. You get too close and they’ll be on you in seconds.”

“They see using sounds? Like… like bats?”

“Yeah, sure. Like bats.”

Peter reached into his pocket, grabbed his little butterfly knife and flicked it out. Tony watched, a little horrified, as the kid stepped close enough to fucking poke the clicker, as if it were a science experiment. Tony had half a mind to reach out and grab his wrist, but the clicker was as dead as one could be. It had most likely been rotting here for years after someone killed it.

So, he just watched as Peter poked the thing, muttering illegible words under his breath as he poked the fungal growth on the clicker’s head. Never, in the twenty years of the apocalypse, had Tony seen anyone so interested in a clicker.

“It used to be a person, once.” Peter said, louder this time. “Some of their clothes are even still on… isn’t that weird? They had a whole life, maybe a family, and now they’re just gone. Stuck to a door in an old building that no one cares about anymore.”

“They’ve been infected for years. Whoever it was, they were long gone. It’s not the same as being a runner, kid.”

“I guess.” Peter jumped when he poked the clicker’s deformed hand, only for it to break away from where it was fused and fall limp in its lap. Finally, he backed away from the corpse and put away his knife. “Either way, it looks fucking disgusting.”

Natasha, to Tony’s surprise, let out a sudden laugh.

“You know, you sound a lot like my little sister right now.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up too quickly for him to school his expression. Natasha, speaking about her long dead sister with some random kid she was smuggling out of the city?

He didn’t comment as he leant forward to grab the clicker’s shoulders. To get through the door, he needed to move this disgusting thing out the way. Now that the kid was finished with his little inspection, Tony had room to yank the thing off the wall. The fungus around the clicker cracked and crunched as the body was ripped away from it.

“Really?”

The kid sounded so intrigued that he even seem bothered that Tony was physically tearing a corpse off the door. Again, he was reminded of Morgan’s curiousness. As he tugged the clicker corpse the rest of the way, he couldn’t help but wonder if his baby boy would have shared his big sister’s curiosity.

Tony had to shake himself out of it.

This kid being with them only served to remind him of everything he’d lost.

Earlier frustration boiled in his gut as he yanked on the corpse hard enough to tear the thing away from the door. He tossed the corpse to the side, disgusted by the sight, and moved to open the door.

In the background, Peter was asking all the questions that he shouldn’t be asking.

“How old is she? Is she my age? Where is she?”

Tony grabbed the door handle and spared quick glance at Natasha. Her expression was carefully void of emotion.

“She was fifteen.”

That shut the kid up.

“Oh.” Tony needed to use a little extra effort to force the door open. It groaned under Tony’s weight, but didn’t budge. “I’m sorry, I just thought…”

“Don’t be, kid. It was a long time ago.”

Finally, the door broke free of the infection and swung open with a clang that was far too loud.

The building itself groaned and creaked as they made their way through the trashed office rooms. Tony tried not to think about the fact that this building was leaning on another just as destroyed skyscraper, and instead crawled through a gap between a row of desks and a fallen cabinet. It was difficult to navigate his way around when everything was on a slant, but he’d take this over the building collapsing.

On the other side of the blockage, desks, chairs and other rubble were strewn around the room, mostly covered in pieces of ceiling and wall. Most of the furniture was somewhat intact, but were covered in mould and grime from twenty years worth of rotting. Plants grew along the walls and floor, a stream of water flowing beneath the closed door that lead to what used to be a hallway.

Remnants of people’s lives before the outbreak lingered on whiteboards, papers, notebooks, and even a framed picture on one of the desks. It was smashed and the photo was half drenched with water, but Tony could see a smiling girl in the picture.

It looked like someone’s young daughter.

Tony’s jaw clenched and he looked away. His old home, the one he lived in with his family, would be just like this. Abandoned, looted of anything useful, their belongings left to rot in the weather for twenty years. Morgan’s room, filled with her toys and clothes. His and Pepper’s room, the office that would soon been transformed into a nursery.

Photos.

Tony hadn’t gone back to the house after Pepper and Morgan died. He couldn’t even stomach the thought. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could hardly hear or see. Rhodey dragged him around for the months after that horrible night, his brother the only thing that kept Tony even somewhat together.

Half of Tony had died the night his family did.

Tony was only brought out of his memories when the building groaned threateningly beneath him. He focussed on searching for anything the FEDRA soldiers might have left behind as he waited for the others to make their way through.

“Everything’s fine.” Peter was muttering as he slid over a fallen cabinet. He landed on the floor with a soft thud, fingers twitching nervously by his sides as he looked towards the windows. “Everything’s totally fine, the building’s not gonna fall.”

Tony didn’t find much, but there was enough to make a few more shivs.

Tony moved over to the door only door not blocked and tried to open it. It didn’t budge.

Together, he and Natasha shouldered the door as hard as they could. It took a few attempts, but eventually, the object blocking the door gave way and the door flung open violently. Both of them stumbled through the doorway from the sudden movement, just as a large filing cabinet slipped off the edge where the floor had caved in. It landed on a lower level with a deafening crash, and the sound that followed wasn’t something Tony ever wanted to hear so close to him.

“Tony!”

Natasha’s warning was far too late.

The clicker grabbed him and hurled him to the floor. Tony managed to get his hands around its neck as it climbed on top of him, teeth snapping and snarling as it tried to attack him the way they’d most likely attacked and killed those soldiers. There wasn’t much Tony could do but struggle with the thing until Natasha kicked it away and held it down with her foot. With two shots to the head, blood and what was left of the clicker’s brain splattered onto the floor as it went limp.

“Thanks.” Tony heaved as he immediately got to his feet. “Fuck.”

Peter walked through the doorway, eyes wide as he looked between the bleeding corpse and Tony.

“Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing.” Tony growled and rubbed a hand over his face to gather himself. “Keep looking for supplies.”

The next room they entered was an old kitchen. Tony opened all the drawers and found a few old cloths they could use as bandages, but nothing much else of use. The kid stood near the window, peering out of the dirty glass again, shoulders tense. Whatever he was thinking about, Tony didn’t care to know.

He looked away and headed into the room that joined onto the kitchen, which only had a few upturned shelves and a locked door. He decided not to waste one of his shivs on breaking the lock, knowing there were likely to be more clickers lurking around in the dark on the other side.

They slipped back into the hallway and through to another room, a foyer that was half flooded. By the receptionist’s desk, a body of another FEDRA agent hung from the wall above, blood smeared across the wall and the floor. His mouth was agape, body and face littered with several gashes that only an infected could make.

Loud, thudding footsteps echoed from somewhere within the skyscraper, followed by a gargled yell that felt amplified in the silence. It wasn’t too close, but it wasn’t too far away either. The body was too fresh to not be concerned.

They didn’t speak about the body. Tony made his way over to the wall and prepared to boost Natasha up.

“Just see if there’s way through.”

He boosted his friend up in one fluid motion, then watched as she looked around.

“All clear. Come on, Pete. Your turn.”

Peter latched onto her hand and grunted as Natasha hauled him up and over the wall. Tony watched him struggle, his heart twisting uncomfortably. Eventually, he put both hands under Peter’s feet and boosted him the rest of the way.

A kid shouldn’t be out here. A kid shouldn’t be with them.

“Tony.” Natasha snapped. “You gonna make me wait all night?”

Tony blinked. He’d become so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed Natasha extend a hand for him. Without saying anything, he let her pull him up, the two of them grunting with the effort. Eventually, Tony got his leg over and was able to pull himself the rest of the way up.

Just as he got to his feet, the dreaded sound of a clicker and stomping, uneven footsteps met his ears.

Tony grabbed Peter’s arm and forced him to move. “Clicker, get down!”

They took cover behind a row of waist-high storage shelves. The clicker hurtled into the room and crashed into one of the walls, clicking hoarsely as it stumbled in their direction. Peter’s wide eyes turned to Tony, but he quickly shook his head and shushed the kid before he could say anything and get them killed.

The clicker slapped its hands on the storage shelf they were hiding behind, clicking a few times as it listened for any movement. Tony couldn’t see it, but he knew it looked just as disgusting as any other clicker. After a few seconds, the clicker became disinterested and stumbled off in the opposite direction. It continued to click, the sounds loud in the quiet room as it got further away.

Still, it wasn’t far enough. Just as Tony started looking around for something to use, Natasha hurled a bottle across the room and through the doorway the clicker was about to head into. The bottle smashed, and with a screech, the clicker ran into the other room in search of its non-existent prey.

They almost made it around the full expanse of the room before the clicker emerged again. Tony grabbed the first thing he saw, an old stapler, and threw it as far away as he could in the opposite direction. The clicker, as predicted, screeched in alarm and started stumbling its way in the direction of the sound.

“That’s our way out, over the scaffolding.” Natasha whispered once the clicker was far enough away and thoroughly distracted. “Hurry!”

Tony jumped up first, then turned around to grab the kid as Natasha boosted him up. Once Peter had his feet under him, he quickly moved away from the threat of the clicker, mouth firmly shut. Natasha got herself over the scaffolding on her own just as the clicker was approaching again.

For good measure, Tony grabbed a chuck of concrete and threw it into the room. This time, it hit the clicker square in the head with enough force to make it lose balance and topple face-first onto the floor.

Only then did Tony turn around and jump down the other side of the scaffolding. He was met with another FEDRA corpse covered in just as much blood as the others, but ignored it in favour of finding a way out. There was no use wasting time on dead bodies.

The clicker’s screeches echoed around them as Tony vaulted over the handrail of the blocked staircase, only to be met with another wall of debris. However, he easily began to drag a metal drawer off the top of the pile, enough for them to slip through.

“Are you okay, Peter?” He heard Natasha ask from above as he pulled on the drawer.

It moved with a loud screech that alerted the clicker, but the chances of it making it over the scaffolding were slim.

Despite this, Tony still picked up his pace.

“Aside from shitting my pants, yeah, I’m fine.”

Once it was pulled out far enough, he looked up at Peter and Natasha, who both had their hands resting on the handrail above him.

“Here you go, m’lady.” Tony was immediately faced with two fierce glares. Peter was already opening his mouth, but he beat the kid to it. “And kid too, I guess.”

“Dude.” Peter muttered as he climbed over the hand railing. Tony didn’t miss the split second where he hesitated, just like on the ledge back at the zone. When the kid’s feet hit the floor, he gave Tony an incredulous look. “You are so weird.”

“Finally, someone who puts Stark in his place.”

“Ha, ha. You’re hilarious.” Tony deadpanned. “Hurry up and go on through.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. Once they dropped into the next room, their only way forward became the next problem.

Every doorway was covered head to toe in debris. The only way forward was through a smashed window and onto a platform that had probably been dangling there the entire twenty years.

Peter’s face went white at the sight, and even Tony’s stomach did a flip at the thought of how high up they were. Natasha didn’t seemed as phased as she stepped over the hand railing and out onto the suspended platform with ease.

“This is insane.” Peter’s voice wobbled. “We’re insane, what the fuck-”

“Just don’t look down.”

“Just don’t- oh my God.” The kid whined as he too stepped over the railing. Natasha hovered close by, just incase Peter somehow slipped up and fell, but he managed to make it over and back onto his feet. He clung to the railing, knuckles white as he moved out of Tony’s way. “I hate this so much.”

“Would you rather the clickers?” Tony grumbled as he went next.

It was still raining, but thankfully, there wasn’t enough wind to be dangerous.

“Okay, you have a point.” Peter followed Natasha as she dropped to a lower platform. “A twenty year old platform exposed to weather and bombing… what could possibly go wrong?”

When Tony dropped down onto the lower platform, the sound it made wasn’t comforting in the slightest. The wires shook dangerously for a moment, like they’d snap, but they didn’t fall to their gruesome death. Peter stopped at the other end and peered down at the ruined city below, eyes wide with both wonder and fear. In the distance, the quarantine zone’s spotlights lit up the night sky.

It wasn’t until Natasha snapped the kid out of his daze that he seemed to come back to himself.

“We need to keep moving, kid.”

“Right. Don’t look down.” He muttered as he slowly climbed onto a narrow platform that extended from the building. Natasha was already there, watching the kid like a hawk as he pressed his back to the wall and stood as far away from the edge as he could. It wasn’t a very big ledge, one wrong step could cause either of their deaths. “Don’t fucking look down.”

“It’s okay, just keep your back to the wall. We’re almost there.”

“Almost where?” Peter almost sounded hysterical as he shuffled around the corner. “How are you guys not even worried about this shit? This is insane! Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Twenty years of seeing insane shit tends to take the edge off.”

Tony joined them on the small ledge, which lead to another platform and another smashed window. He couldn’t help but be relieved to be back inside on somewhat stable ground. Thankfully, the rest of the staircase was clear of debris.

When they reached the next hallway, another fresh body came into sight. The man wore a gas mask, though that didn’t help save him from getting eaten alive by infected. His revolver sat beside him, fully loaded and in good condition, perfect for Tony to steal. Despite how wrong it felt, he pat down the body and found another pack of ammunition in the pocket of his vest.

“Why were they even in here?” Tony hadn’t even noticed Peter was beside him. He’d just assumed the kid had gone into the other room with Natasha. He glanced at the kid, who was staring at the body with a curiously blank face. It wasn’t the same way he’d looked at the clicker. Some part of him wanted to ask why he looked so unbothered, but another part knew there was something bubbling beneath the surface that he couldn’t see. “Nat said they stopped trying to keep the infected out.”

He tucked the revolver into his jeans along with the ammo. “Supply run.”

“Oh.” Peter whispered. “Do you think there are any alive in here somewhere?”

“I have no idea, kid.” Tony sighed and got to his feet. “If there is, they’d be just as fucked up as their friends.”

The kid opened his mouth to ask another question, but was quickly cut off by Natasha’s whisper-yelling from the other room.

“Tony, runners! Get in here.”

“Come on, kid.” Tony nudged Peter’s shoulder. “Get moving."

“I’m moving, calm down man.”

They joined Natasha in the next room where she stood to the side of a doorway, gun out and loaded. Through the doorway, Tony could see the large hole where the floor had caved in, then a glimpse of the back of an infected just as it stumbled around the corner and out of view.

“You stay with the kid, I’ll go clear it out.”

Natasha nodded and beckoned Peter over. Tony waited until there were no infected in his way before he dropped into the floor below and tiptoed in the direction of the runner he’d seen. Now that he was close enough, he could hear the shuffling footsteps and the quiet grunts and groans all around him. He could also hear clicking.

Great. Runners and at least one clicker.

Tony pulled out a shiv and snuck up on the first runner he saw. It was a soldier, one of the unlucky ones to turn instead of being killed. Like some runners did at the very beginning of their transition, it was muttering some legible words, broken and disjointed between twitches and moans. It was disturbing to think that its brain was still intact enough to form words and that it knew exactly what was happening to it.

The main words were lots of no’s and help me’s. It was difficult to understand, but Tony could hear them.

Once he was directly behind the whimpering runner, he took it down with the shiv and quietly dumped the body on the ground. He grabbed a glass bottle from the floor and focussed on his next targets.

Directly opposite him there was another runner and a clicker. The clicker stood still while the runner stumbled around in circles, oblivious to Tony’s presence as he moved between upturned desks to get closer. He could hear at least another two runners moving around, but he focussed on the clicker first.

When the infected’s back was turned, Tony used another one of his shivs to take down the clicker before it could hear him and alert the room’s worth of infected that he was here. It screeched and flailed, but the sound went unnoticed by the other infected as Tony used all his strength to ensure it went down. Eventually, the thing went still, and Tony dumped it on the floor and practically dove for cover just as the runner turned around.

The runner doubled back, bloodied eyes darting around feverishly. It was covered in blood, its own or someone else’s Tony didn’t know, its clothes ripped and torn. He simply watched as it stood on the clicker’s body and almost tripped over it, but continued ambling along like nothing happened. Just as he reached up to grab the thing, one of the other runners that had been lurking in the hallway came through the doorway and spotted him.

“Fuck.” Tony said at the same time the runner screamed and alerted the other two to his presence.

Without any time to waste, Tony shot the closest runner in the head with the revolver. It went down immediately with a thud as he turned on his heel and ran in the opposite direction, the frantic footsteps of infected chasing him as he snatched an old plank off the ground. He could hear them crashing and falling over behind him, but that did little to slow them down.

There was a reason they were called runners.

He rounded the corner back into the hallway he’d come through, then spun around and cracked the first runner’s in the head as soon as it rounded the corner. The decayed plank snapped in half the second it made contact, and the infected was merely dazed before it continued its hunt for him. Swearing, Tony too the opportunity and shot at it twice. Finally, it crumbled the floor in a heap of diseased and bloody limbs.

The last runner would have been able to grab him if it didn’t almost get knocked over by the other’s falling body. This gave Tony just enough time to fire one last, deadly shot into its skull.

When the room fell silent, Tony hunched over and took a deep, shaky breath.

“Alright, come on down.”

Not even thirty seconds later, Natasha jumped down and came over to him.

“I’m impressed, Tony.” She smirked at him, but there was a hint of worry in her eye.

If he’d been overwhelmed by the infected, Natasha wouldn’t have hesitated to jump down and save him.

He was thankful it didn’t have to come to that.

“Impressed that I almost got mauled like those soldiers? That sounds like you.” Tony heaved. At least another thirty seconds after Natasha, a much lighter thud came from behind him as Peter joined them. “Fuck, that was too close. Let’s just get the hell out of this shithole.”

After Tony had to move more debris out of the way of a door, it finally looked like they were getting somewhere. As they got closer to the bottom of the building, the spaces got wider and more open, the majority of the inside blown to hell. Chunks of floor and walls were separated from each other, making their trip to the lower floors miles easier than going through individual rooms. Tony lead the way, dropping down ledge after ledge to get to the lowest floor he could.

The bottom of the building itself was an absolute mess. Large chunks of concrete were in a heap amongst the grass that had taken over, barely any furniture visible as it had all most likely been crushed beneath everything that fell from the upper floors. There were still some support pillars standing, but the majority had broken off halfway. It was a wonder the building was even still standing. The only reason it was still up was likely because it had the other building to lean against.

He really didn’t want to be here when they both inevitably gave way.

There was no way they’d be able to reach a front door of any kind, the rubble that had built up covering any form of exit. Tony continued to lead them down, no chatter between them as they descended. The only sounds were the rain trickling through the cracks and their footsteps, thankfully no infected.

The lower they got, the more they had to duck and crawl beneath debris to get around. It got darker as they got lower, and eventually, they came to an opening.

An old subway station.

It was a mess, just like everything else. The tiles were smashed and all over the floor, amongst trash and pieces of the ceiling. One side of escalators were entirely cut off by a cave in, and on the ground was another body. This one wasn’t a soldier.

“Look at his sleeve.” Natasha said Tony he knelt down to pick up an unused molotov. “Firefly.”

Tony took a look for himself, only to discover she was right.

“Huh. Looks like these guys aren’t doing well in or out of the city.”

Tony kept the molotov and looked around the room for anything else the Firefly could have left behind. On the landing of a blocked staircase, another body sat slumped against the wall, another Firefly. There was a note beside him with a roughly drawn outline of the Capitol Building.

Meet up with second Firefly team at Capitol Building.

Boy
5’4 (?)
14 years old
Brown hair

“What does it say?” Natasha asked.

“It’s about the kid. They’re from the quarantine zone.”

“Not our guys. See?”

“I don’t like it.” Tony muttered and screwed up the paper in his fist. “If there’s not anyone alive to meet us-”

“There will be.”

Tony sighed, but didn’t say anything else as he looked around the area for somewhere to go. With both the staircase and elevators blocked, their only way was through a small gap within another blocked off corridor. Tony got on his stomach and crawled his way through, only for his flashlight to shine on the last thing he wanted to deal with right now.

A clicker, directly in front of him, rushing past the end of the corridor until it was out of sight.

“Another clicker.” Tony whispered as he took shelter behind an upturned vending machine.

“Shit.” Natasha joined him, one hand on Peter’s arm as he dragged himself through. “We’re almost out. Tony, you take point, I’ll watch the rear. Kid, no matter what, you stay right on his heels. Got it?”

“Sure.”

Tony squeezed the molotov in his hand as he prepared to advance forward. Natasha grabbed his wrist and fixed him with a serious look.

“Stay sharp.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Only then did she let him go. Tony took a deep breath before he crept forwards, trying to scope out the area in the limited light he had. By the sounds of it, there were more than just the single clicker he’d seen. As his flashlight moved around the room, the movement almost uncontrollable as the flashlight was hooked to his backpack strap, he spotted the shadows of other clickers in the area and even a runner to the far left.

With his free hand, he picked up a broken tile and threw it. It alerted most of the infected in the room, including the runner, as they all converged towards where the tile had smashed. It uncovered another runner that had been lurking in one of the subway station’s stores, at least five infected relatively close to each other as they groaned and screeched in alarm.

Being down here with no humans to eat, Tony didn’t have to wonder how hungry they were for flesh.

Tony lit the molotov and hurled it in their direction. It hit one of the clickers in the back and ignited it and the other four around it instantaneously. The otherwise pitch black area became bathed in yellow and orange as the infected burned, other clickers from the other side of the station rushing over at the roar of the fire and the wails of the infected as they burned to death.

Both of the runners and two clickers went down, their bodies black, burned and smoking. The smell of burning flesh hit his nose and made his stomach turn, but out of years of smelling this in varying degrees, he forced the urge to be sick down. Behind him, he heard Peter gag, and had half a mind to feel bad for the kid as he watched one of the clickers run around with flailing arms, still on fire. It wasn’t enough to kill it, since it hadn’t been a direct hit, but it was weakened.

With the runners down, only clickers were left. Peter gagged again, but thankfully, it hadn’t been loud enough to reveal their position.

“You have to hold it in, kid.” He heard Nat whisper. “We’ll be out soon.”

Tony ignored the kid and got them moving instead. There were still at least three clickers left.

The half burned clicker was the closest to their position. It exited the subway station’s seating area, its clicking almost pained as it moved around. Whatever remained of its clothes were still burning, the smoking flesh polluting the air as it got closer. Hoping the kid would at least be able to handle it until they got out, Tony launched from behind the corner he’d hidden around and shivved the clicker in the throat. Its ugly, piercing wail echoed around the station as Tony attacked it, but it soon fell quiet once he snapped its neck for good measure.

Up close, the smell was almost unbearable. It would be on his clothes, on his skin, everywhere. Hopefully the rain would wash away the worst of it.

Another threat down, Tony advanced forward. Now that he was closer to the back of the station, he could see a ladder rested on top of the wall where the exit gates were closed. Clearly, others had been through here, and if the runners and the dead Fireflies were any indication, not all of them made it out.

He turned to Natasha and pointed at the ladder, waiting until he received a nod to continue. There were two more clickers in the way, one stood right next to the ladder. The other was quickly approaching, its fungus-covered head jolting in all directions as it clicked.

Tony grabbed another tile and hurled it over the clickers head so it landed somewhere behind it. It screeched, whirled around and hurtled off in the direction of the sound. The other clicker that had been stood still also became alert, but didn’t move from its spot. Frowning, Tony picked up a brick this time and crept closer. He kept his footsteps as quiet as possible as he approached the thing head on, incredibly grateful that clickers didn’t have their eyesight.

Once he was in range, he stood up and smashed the brick into the clickers head as hard as he could. Blood and pus splattered everywhere, including on him, but when it didn’t immediately go down he hit it again, and again. Finally, its skull crushed, it slumped against the wall before sliding down it.

However, the clicker he’d previously distracted started to head in their direction at an alarming speed. Before Tony could turn around, a deafening gunshot echoed around the room, followed by another.

The clicker dropped.

“Quick!” Natasha snap and gestured for the ladder. In the distance, another infected started to scream at the sound. “Boost me!”

Tony immediately knelt and cupped his hands, then boosted the redhead up so she could grab the ladder. She yanked it down with a clatter, the sounds getting closer and closer. More clickers.

“Peter, go!”

At Natasha’s shout, an incredibly sickly-looking kid stumbled to the ladder and started climbing up, followed by Natasha and then Tony. Just as Tony stepped off the ladder, three clickers careened around the corner and headed straight for them. He yanked up the ladder and almost threw it over his head with haste, the clickers crashing into the gate below with combined yells and gurgles. He tossed the ladder aside, breath heaving as he watched the things bash themselves hungrily against the flimsy gate.

They walked over the small roof that opened to the subway tracks itself and dropped to the ground. The tracks were completely covered with dirt, half the floor flooded. Old subway cars, derailed and half bent from the debris above falling on them blocked one side of the tunnel.

The other side, however, opened up to the outside.

The clickers could still be heard banging against the gate, but thankfully, two chunks of concrete blocked them from being able to get through. Eventually, they would lose interest and go back to just… existing. Trapped in the subway station, likely forever, until the next unfortunate soul came along.

“Holy shit!” Peter exclaimed. “We actually made it!”

Then, he promptly bent over and threw up.

“You’ll get, uh… used to it.” Tony said unhelpfully as Peter gagged. His own stomach was still turning, the smell lingering on him. “Sort of.”

“That was so d-disgusting.” Peter hiccuped, still hunched over, his hands on his shaking knees. “I feel like my fucking nose has been burned. I never want to smell anything like that ever again.”

“In this world, you’ll have to. There’s far worse off places than this, far worse than anything you’ve seen in the quarantine zone.” Natasha said, already starting to climb out. Peter gave her a disbelieving look when she turned around, and her features softened yet again. “Sorry, kid, but that’s how it is.”

“Ugh.” The kid moaned. At least he didn’t look as green anymore. He didn’t seem to take in the full gravity of Natasha’s words, most likely too distracted by the burning flesh smell that was still in his nose. Tony knew, because it was still in his, too. “That was the worst.”

“You ready?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Peter straightened back up. He still looked a bit uneasy. “I’m good, I promise.”

They began the ascent back outside, Peter trailing a little behind. The rain continued to fall just as hard, the ground muddy and slippery as they finally made it back to the street. Tony didn’t look back at the hell they’d just escaped, and instead kept an eye on the surrounding buildings in case any infected decided to jump out.

“You guys are pretty good at this stuff.” Peter spoke up once he climbed up the last ledge. He still looked a little green and shaky on his feet, but to the kid’s credit, he was holding up better than Tony thought he would. “You know, like taking down all those clicker things. I for sure thought that we were dead, like, six different times.”

“It’s called luck. Eventually, it’s going to run out.” Tony turned to Natasha without looking at the kid. “Which way we going, Nat?”

“The Capitol Building’s this way.”

They began to head in the direction Nat pointed them too, only for their path to be blocked by a jack-knifed truck that was half covered in overgrown shrubbery. Tony looked around for something to use to climb over it, only to be met with a room full of runners.

Having thought the fight was over for at least another half an hour, Tony repressed his groan and pulled out his handgun instead of the revolver. He wanted to save bullets.

There were three runners inside an old shop, all stood still with their heads down. Unlike the clickers, it was easy to take the three of them down quietly, and it only took Tony a few minutes to drop their bodies. He found a large drawer on wheels, perfect for climbing, and wasted no time in rolling it out of the store and against the body of the truck.

Once they were all up and over, Tony immediately made a beeline for a storefront’s roller door. He grabbed the chain and started to pull, arms aching after the day and night of killing soldiers and infected.

“Wait, Tony, stop.”

Tony stopped. “What? I don’t hear anything.”

“Double time.” At the look on Natasha’s face, she’d heard something he hadn’t.

Tony didn’t hesitate to quicken his pace, and when he finally heard the distant sounds of more infected approaching, he was glad he listened to her.

“They’re coming!” Peter hurried over to them.

“I know, I know.” Thanks to the drawer Tony had moved against the truck, it was an easy stepping stone for the infected to reach them. In the corner of his eye, he saw at least six runners fall over the side of the truck at once, screaming and flailing. He pulled even faster. “Shit! Go now!”

The second Natasha and Peter were under, Natasha held the door for him. He let go of the chain and made his way under the door as quickly as he could, only for a runner to grab his ankle. It attempted to pull him back, but Natasha dropped the door on its hand before it could.

At least fifteen bodies slammed against the roller door, hands pounding against the metal.
The pounding only lasted for a few seconds before the infected quickly gave up and dispersed.

“Uh… you’ve got something on your shoe.”

“What?” Tony snapped as he looked down.

The infected’s hand, severed from its body, still clasped his boot. He shook it off, the thing landing on the floor with a wet thud.

“Gross.”

The room they were in turned out to be a delivery bay for the store next door. There was still a truck inside, its doors wide open. There was nothing useful in the crates, only art pieces, but the workbench beside the door was the jackpot. There were heaps of supplies, most likely left behind by other stragglers who more than likely could be dead by now and were apart of that runner horde they’d just evaded. There was enough here that he could modify his gun and make a few more shivs. As he worked, Natasha started up a curious conversation with the kid.

“So, Carol thinks you’re… immune?”

Throughout all the chaos that had been the last few hours, Tony had completely forgotten about Peter’s… condition. Not once had Peter shown any sign of turning, even after hours of traversing around the inside of that skyscraper. While he was still doubtful, it was starting to show that the kid may actually be telling the truth.

Immune. A word that’d only been spoken in zombie apocalypse movies and books before the real apocalypse happened.

“That’s what she thinks, at least.” Peter replied.

“How’d you even get bitten? You must have been somewhere you shouldn’t have to find an infected in the quarantine zone.”

“I’d sneak out. I was stuck in this military boarding school, it was miserable.”

Of course the kid would sneak out. Not only because he thought Peter was someone who would definitely find trouble, but because boarding schools of any kind reminded Tony of the times Howard had sent him away as a kid. Only, they were ten times more extreme than the ones he went to pre-outbreak. Either way, he hated the mere thought of having to go to one of those places.

“You’d sneak out?”

“Yeah, you know, explore the city and… stuff. I was inside the mall when w- I ran into infected.”

Tony didn’t miss Peter’s slight stutter.

“The mall? That place is completely off limits. How the hell did you managed to get in there?”

“I had my… ways.”

There it was again, the hesitation. It sounded like there was more to the story that Peter wasn’t telling.

As Tony finished making his third shiv, he risked a glance back to the pair. Peter’s arms were crossed, one hand resting over where the bite was. His knuckles were white. A pinch of worry shot through Tony, but he shoved it down before it could manifest.

This wasn’t his kid. He was just cargo, nothing else.

They’d drop him off at the Fireflies and be done with it. Get their guns, get back to the zone. Tony would never have to think about the kid again.

“Anyways, one of those… runners, I guess they’re called, decided it would be fun to have a snack on my arm, and then it happened. I was bitten. That’s it.”

“That’s it. I see.” Natasha muttered, and if she was good at seeing through Tony’s many walls, she’d see straight through Peter’s. Whatever she was thinking, it was along the same lines as Tony. “Was Carol with you when you were bitten?”

Something flashed over the kid’s face. “No. I went to her for help after it happened.”

“Knowing her, I’m surprised she didn’t shoot you.”

Peter let out a small, uneasy laugh.

“She almost did. You should have seen her face when I showed her, I wish I had a camera or something. I thought I was dead for sure.” Then, his shoulders slumped. “I hope she’s okay.”

“I told you, kid. She’ll be alright.”

Tony made another shiv before he packed everything away in his backpack. Without a word, they set off again.

They’d stumbled into an old museum instead of a store like Tony had originally thought. There were several art pieces on the bottom floor, including a few vases that were still intact. Well, were intact until Peter bumped into one of the boxes and shattered the vase into a million tiny pieces. Earlier frustration rising, he glared at the kid, who immediately floundered.

“Sorry, sorry!” He exclaimed as he stared at Tony and Natasha’s hands on their guns. Peter raised his hands, eyes wide. “That was me! No infected here! Sorry.”

At their unamused looks, Peter lowered his hands and rolled his eyes.

“I said sorry! I didn’t know the stupid thing would shatter.”

“Just stick close to us, will you?” Tony sighed and shoved his gun back in his jeans.

He didn’t wait for a response, and instead began to climb up to the upper level of the museum. The bombs had destroyed a lot of it, but a lot of the exhibits had been spared from the destruction. When money still had value, every single thing in here would be worth millions. It was almost shocking that things like that mattered so much to people, even him. He’d been well off thanks to his family, but instead of living in a penthouse in the middle of New York, they moved to Texas to keep their family away from the vultures that were the media.

He had still been CEO of Stark Industries, but very rarely ever went there physically. If he was honest, before Pepper fell pregnant again, she was mostly in charge of things. Tony had taken back over to give his wife a break.

Moving to Texas and practically handing off the company had just been another thing he did to spite his parents. He loved his mother, he truly did, but she could be just as overbearing as Howard. Jarvis had been more of a parental figure throughout his life than both of them combined.

The money Tony had set aside for his kids would be worthless now. Morgan’s college funds, if she wished to go. Even the baby’s college funds had been set up and ready for him when he reached that age and if he wanted to go. Tony was prepared for every outcome imaginable.

Except for this one.

Now, it was all worth just as much as the stuff in this museum.

Nothing.

Morgan always enjoyed going on field trips. She always spoke highly of each one and had always enjoyed going to museums. She got that from Pepper. Tony would just be dragged along for the ride, and as much as walking around overly clean buildings with hideous things they called art, he’d do anything for his girls.

“What is this place?” Peter’s voice cut through his increasingly depressing thoughts. “What is all this stuff?”

Kids born after the outbreak didn’t even know what a museum was.

Natasha, thankfully, took it upon herself to answer the kid’s question. Tony was still too lost in his own head to even formulate a response.

“It’s an old museum. Some of the things in here are hundreds of years old.”

“Really? Cool.” Peter stopped in front of a ship model, still enclosed in its glass case. “What do people do in them?”

“Walk around, admire the art.” Natasha didn’t sound particularly interested. “It was never something I was interested in.”

“Hm.” The kid hummed, then poked the glass with his index finger. It cracked. “Oops.”

“If you did that before the outbreak, you’d have to pay a hefty fine.”

“Well, shit.” Peter didn’t seem too bothered as he wiped the small information panel free of dust. Tony, aware that they had to be moving and not ogling years old art, started to look around for a way through. As he stepped into another room with more glass cases, Peter’s voice drifted through the doorway. “I wish I could’ve seen what this place looked like before everything, or like, one to do with science. Were there science museums?”

Another thing Morgan would have loved. Pepper, not so much. She had more of a taste for the arts.

“Sure was. There were all kinds of museums across the world.”

“Damn. This sucks.” Peter sighed. “There’s so much cool stuff I’ll never get to see.”

Again, Tony’s heart clenched with sympathy. He tuned out their conversation and continued to search the building, only to find dead end after dead end. Natasha and Peter caught up with him just as he found an opening, his knees aching as he crouched down to check it out.

Beneath multiple broken support beams, there was a doorway. Tony would have to lift up the beams for them to get through.

“Alright, watch your heads.” Tony grunted as he placed both hands under the beam and pulled. It was heavy, heavier than Tony expected, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it for long. “Nat, hurry up!”

The second Natasha and Peter disappeared under the beams, something above Tony gave out and the weight became too much. The wooden beams crashed down, blocking the way through.

“Tony!” Natasha called out. He was barely able to see her through the rubble. “Tony?!”

“I’m alive.” Tony coughed as he got his feet back under him. “I’ll- I’ll make my way around. Keep with the kid!”

Unfortunately the loud noise attracted unwanted attention. Sickening screeches and clicks echoed through the building, igniting panic in Tony’s stomach. Even worse, the screeches came from Natasha and Peter’s side of the wreckage.

“Shit, Peter, run!” Natasha yelled as she grabbed onto the kid. “Run!”

“Nat!” Tony called out, but there was no time. The clickers were too close, close enough that he could hear their stomping footsteps as they rushed for Natasha and Peter.

The pair disappeared from sight, and Tony’s panic only increased. They were separated, and being separated was never a good thing, even if it was Natasha. Natasha was good, brilliant even, but against a horde of clickers with an inexperienced kid as help was never good. Depending on how many there were, she and the kid could get bitten or die before he reached them.

Well, if the kid’s words were true, he couldn’t even get fucking infected.

However, he wasn’t immune from getting torn apart.

Tony quickly gathered himself and stared to crawl through the debris. He had to squeeze under more fallen beams, a broken display and a bench before he found a way out of the pile. As he dragged himself out into the open, a sharp piece of wood caught his arm and sliced his skin through his shirt.

Cursing, Tony got himself out and assessed the damage. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t ideal either.

There wasn’t any time to patch himself up. A clicker walked into the room not even a second later and let out a guttural scream that threatened to burst Tony’s eardrums. It twitched violently, its fingers jarred and out of control. Tony kept still from his place on the floor, barely breathing as he watched the disease-ridden thing move around without purpose. It screamed again, almost directly in Tony’s face, but he kept just still enough that it didn’t realise he was there.

Every second he spent sat on his ass was another that Natasha and the kid could be killed.

But if he moved, the clicker would be on him in seconds and he would be as good as dead.

Tony kept incredibly still until finally the clicker regained some sense of direction and moved back through the doorway. It clipped the doorframe and stumbled, but continued on nonetheless.

Once Tony was sure it was far away enough, he let out a breath and quickly grabbed a shiv. He crept in the direction it had gone, aware of the other clickers clicking within the other rooms as he stuck up on the thing. Like routine, he shivved the clicker in the throat before it could alert its companions and brought the body to the floor once it was still.

There was no sound except Tony’s breathing and the clickers. Natasha and Peter must’ve run upstairs, the only viable exit. As quickly and as stealthy as he could, he took out the last clickers on the floor and hurried up the stair rickety wooden staircase. As he got higher, various thuds and crashes met his ears.

It had to be Natasha and the kid.

Tony quickened his pace, skipping two stairs each step. He threw open the door closest to where the thuds were coming from and ran through it and down the hallway. At the end bashing on a closed door was a runner.

The runner turned on Tony the moment it heard him. It reacted extremely fast, and he barely had a chance to pull out his gun before it was onto him.

The runner slammed him against the wall and snapped in his face. Tony was thrown into the memory of outbreak day, the runner that attacked him just after he discovered Pepper’s dead body in Rhodey’s upturned car. Anger, fear and grief took over as used newfound strength to throw the infected off him the way he couldn’t that night when Rhodey saved his ass.

Before it could jump back on him, Tony kicked it in the chest hard enough for it to crack against the wall on the other side of the hallway. Then, finally, he pulled out the revolver and delivered a bullet in its face.

Tony had no time to recover. He could still hear crashing coming from inside the room, along with Natasha’s yelling. Without hesitation he kicked the door open, only for his eyes to widen in horror at the sight of Natasha pinned to a desk by another runner. She barely held it back with a wooden plank, the things teeth snapping at her just like the other had been to Tony moments ago.

Natasha eventually kicked it away far enough to hit it with the plank. It went down, but remained alive until she delivered the deadly blow. Tony hurried over to his friend, hands automatically reaching out to check if she was okay. The redhead was turned away from him, shoulders heaving, a shaky hand adjusting her shirt collar.

A dreadful feeling shot through him as he opened his mouth to ask if she was okay.

“I’m fine, Tony!” Natasha turned around then, eyes wide. Tony glanced at her neck, but there was nothing there to suggest that she’d been bitten. “I’m okay.”

Tony wanted to inspect further, but Peter’s desperate cry from the other room prevented them from doing so.

“G-guys, get in here!”

“The kid!”

Peter was grappling with an infected, barely holding on as the thing attacked him. Instinct took over, and Tony didn’t hesitate to charge over and kick the infected away from him. The runner still had a tight hold on one of Peter’s arms, which caused him to tumble to the floor with a panicked yell. The kid kicked his legs in an attempt to loosen the runner’s grip, but the infected was too strong. Tony shot the revolver’s last bullet into the runner’s brain, before it could climb back onto the teen, who looked the most scared he had since he’d been with them.

Natasha fended off the other runners that charged at them as Tony hauled the kid to his feet. Pushing Peter behind him, Tony unloaded four shots into two runners, the last dealt with by Natasha, who used another plank to smash it in the face.

Once all the runners were down for good, Peter let out a groan.

“Are you fucking serious?” Tony turned around, his light shining on what Peter was looking at. Alarm shot through his veins at the blood on the kid’s wrist, the same wrist that housed his first bite mark. New teeth marks were clearly visible, almost directly over the old one. “Well, if it had to be one of us…”

Peter nervously looked to Tony, who was still staring at the fresh bite mark. He’d been too late.

“That was scary.” The kid breathed, an obvious attempt to dispel the awkward silence he created. “Um, thanks for saving me back there.”

“Yeah.” Tony just looked at the kid for a moment, before he turned to Natasha. She was already stood by the smashed windows, both hands braced against the window sill with her back to them. There was now some light shining into the room, which meant the sun was finally coming up. “Whatever, kid.”

Tony didn’t mention the bite, not even when Peter continued to mutter under his breath.

“Of course it would be me to get bit fucking twice. Way to go, Parker.”

Tony made his way over to Natasha, worry starting to settle as he took in her hunched form.

He didn’t think he could stomach the thought of losing somebody else.

“Nat? You doing okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit winded and a twisted ankle, maybe.” There was a slight edge to her voice, one he hadn’t heard in a long time. Not since her sister got bitten. “It’s getting light out. We should be able to make it to the Capitol Building before noon, quicker if we get moving now.”

“Good.” Tony turned to Peter, who was shifting from foot to foot. His nervous energy was practically infectious. “What about you, kid? How’re you holding up?”

“Define holding up.” Peter looked a little green in the face.

“Are you still breathing?”

“I don’t know how I can be when it still burns.” Peter groaned. No wonder he still looked like he was going to be sick. “Dude, why did you have to set them on fire?”

“Would you rather get torn apart?”

“Well, no, but…” Peter jumped out the window onto the fire escape after Natasha. “Okay, fine, you have a point. I guess I’m okay, then. Apart from, well, you know. This.”

Peter pointed at the new bite mark.

Tony pulled out some of the bandages he’d found in the skyscraper and tossed them at Peter.

“Wow, thanks.”

Tony grunted, but said no more.

It didn’t take long to reach the roof of the museum. 

“There it is.” Natasha, who still sounded out of breath, pointed to the Capitol Building gleaming in the distance. “That’s our building.”

To get there, they needed to find something to get across the gap between the next roof. It didn’t take long for Tony to find a plank, almost completely concealed by shrubbery and dirt, big enough to place across the gap. Once it was secure, he turned to Peter, who looked eager to get across.

“Alright, I know it looks scary. Watch your step as you’re going up, because it’s going to be a little-”

“That, in there, is what you call scary.” Peter rolled his eyes and made a sound under his breath before stepped onto the plank without hesitation. “This is just a piece of wood. I can do it.”

He’d walk across a plank on top of a multiple storey roof, but couldn’t jump down from a ledge.

This kid just didn’t make sense to Tony, apparent immunity aside.

Once Peter was safely on the other side, Tony followed and stepped down beside him.

Peter’s eyes were full of wonder as he gazed out at the destroyed city, bathed in the light from the sunrise. He looked at the ruins like it was the best thing he’d ever seen, rather than the remains of what civilisation used to be. Tony couldn’t help but wonder what was going through the boy’s head, for someone who had never been out of the QZ. The kid’s brain would explode if he saw what the world used to look like.

“Well, is that everything you hoped for?”

“I mean, the jury’s still out.” Peter glanced at him, before he returned his gaze to the broken city. Tony had to admit, with the sunrise, things didn’t look half as bad as they were. If he thought hard enough, he could almost see what Boston used to be. “But man, you can’t deny that view. I never saw anything like this back at the boarding sch-”

“Come on, this way.” Natasha suddenly barked.

Peter looked a little sad to be interrupted, but followed Natasha’s lead without complaint. Tony stood behind as he watched the kid walk away, his heart pounding in his ears.

Subconsciously, he glanced down at his broken watch. Morgan appeared in his mind first, her eyes shining as she watched Tony open her gift. Her eyes he kept seeing in Peter, filled with so much similar curiosity, despite their age difference.

“Hey!” Tony’s gaze snapped up. Natasha was right in front of him, her eyes hard and serious. The redhead’s gaze searched his, digesting everything he was thinking just through one stare. “Look, we’re almost done. Keep it together, Tony. Stay focussed.”

“He’s got a bite.” Tony grumbled, mood soured even further at Natasha’s sudden, brash mood. “Who knows how long it’ll take for a second bite to-”

“Can’t you take just one stroke of fucking luck, Tony?” Natasha interrupted, her expression suddenly furious. “We’re finishing this job. We didn’t come all this way just to turn around now.”

Before she could turn around, Tony grabbed her wrist. “Be honest with me, Nat.”

“Be honest about what, Stark?”

“Are you doing okay? You seem…”

“I’m fine, Tones.” Tony could barely contain his wince at the nickname. Natasha’s voice softened, and the fury disappeared from her face almost instantly. Regret flashed across her face for the briefest moment, so brief that Tony wondered if he’d imagined it. “I’m just… tired, okay?”

“Alright.”

Natasha cupped his cheek affectionately for a brief moment, before she turned and followed Peter down the ladder.

Tony frowned and ran this thumb over his watch.

They were almost done.

In a few hours, Peter would no longer be their problem, and they could all move on with their lives.

Just cargo.

With an exhausted huff, Tony let go of his watch and joined the others on the ladder.


Chapter Text

ORDERS: Patrol near rendezvous area. Ensure no military presence before moving the boy to the next safehouse.

Make sure the boy is well fed and kept in good health. His safety is of the utmost importance.

“Look at this.” Tony offered the crumpled piece of paper to Natasha. A fresh body sat slumped in the corner of a stairwell, a Firefly logo on his arm. Another dead Firefly wasn’t a good sign. “You sure our Firefly guys are going to be there?”

“Yes.” Natasha eyed the body with disinterest. “They will be, Tony. We need to keep moving.”

“He’s a Firefly.” Peter whispered. “What will you do if they aren’t there?”

“They’re going to be there.” Natasha’s tone was hard as she screwed up the paper and tossed it to the ground beside the body. She didn’t answer Peter’s question. “Now let’s keep moving.”

Tony watched Natasha, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to work out what was bothering her.

In the hour they’d been headed to the Capitol Building from the museum, she’d been acting strange. More closed off and snappy than she had been on the roof. Impatient, most of all.

She’d snapped at both Tony and Peter a few times, mostly at the kid for getting distracted by the most simple of things. Tony didn’t question the sudden change of attitude because he knew it would end in his head getting bitten off.

Despite his silence, Natasha’s odd attitude continued to concern him.

Tony sent another worried look at the back of Natasha’s head as he dragged a heavy dumpster over towards a locked gate so they could climb over. Tony went first, on edge for both the military and infected, maybe even the Fireflies. Immune kid or not, it could still be a setup.

However, when he reached the other side, there was no one. The street was completely empty.

“There we go.” Tony said as he stared at the Capitol Building, now just within walking distance. “There’s our stop. Home stretch, Nat.”

Natasha didn’t reply. She just jogged past him, her goal clearly set. Peter trailed behind her, only to slow down drastically when they came near the front of the building. It was flooded all the way to the front steps, cars and street signs half submerged in the murky water. Peter stopped at the edge, the toes of his shoes just touching the water while Natasha and Tony continued walking.

“Um… just so its out there, I can’t swim.”

Tony repressed a groan. Of course he couldn’t swim. All that shitty military school cared about was the soldiers they were going to make out of orphaned kids who had no one left to care for them.

Not for the first time, Tony was reminded of the hell he was subjected to by Howard’s choice of boarding schools.

“Just follow me, kid.” Tony sighed when Natasha didn’t offer any help. “It looks shallow on the right side.”

“Okay…” Peter trailed. Tony shot a glance at Natasha, who was now far ahead of them, charging through the water with determination. Once this was all over, Tony was going to force the truth out of her no matter how hard she tried to avoid it. While Natasha was the one who always got past everyone else’s walls, Tony was one of the only people who could break through hers. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” Tony lied, mostly to get Peter to stop talking. “She wants to get paid, that’s it.”

His blunt attitude seemed to have the opposite effect, as it often had so far with this kid.

“Well, if it means anything, I’m glad Carol hired you guys.” Tony tried not to let the kid’s words affect him. “What I’m trying to say, is thank you. For you know, not killing me when you found out… I know it’s about getting paid, but still. Thanks.”

In all truths, Tony had no idea how to respond. Peter walked through the water with his elbows raised, nervousness written all over his features as he followed Tony’s every step with heightened attention. He’d sounded so genuine, so grateful for them, even when they’d held him at gunpoint when they saw the red cordyceps reader. Even though a big part of Tony still expected him to turn at any second, especially knowing he’d been bitten again.

He settled for, “Sure thing, kid.”

They powered through the rest of the flooded area and up the front staircase in silence. When they reached the front doors, Natasha stood to the side with her arms crossed over her chest. She avoided Tony’s eye as she nodded for him to be the one to open the door.

If there wasn’t any Fireflies on the other side of this door, Tony didn’t know what the he was going to do.

He took a deep breath, steeled himself, turned the knob and opened the door.

There were Fireflies, three of them in fact.

None of them were breathing.

“No.” Natasha rushed past him and towards the closest body. “No, no, no!”

“For fuck’s sake.” Tony growled, fists clenched as he stared at the bloody mess in front of him. The redhead frantically tore through the Firefly’s pockets, more desperate than Tony had ever seen her since her sister died. Her right hand was shaking violently, but he couldn’t see past his rising anger that he’d been right to look too much into it. “What did I tell you, Nat?”

“They’re dead…” Peter trailed, looking to Tony for answers. God, Tony couldn’t deal with the kid looking at him like that right now. No kid had ever looked at him like that since Morgan. Peter was depending on him to have an answer. “What’s gonna happen now?”

Tony ignored the kid, his eyes focussed on Natasha. She continued to rifle through the man’s pockets, muttering pleas mixed with obscenities under her breath. Fed up with her erratic behaviour, Tony took matters into his own hands and approached her.

“What are you doing, Natasha?”

“Maybe they… maybe they had a map. Maybe they had something to tell us where they were going. Coordinates, or- or a radio-”

“How far are we going to take this?”

“As far as it needs to go!” Natasha almost screamed at him, then resumed her search. Her right hand jolted, which only seemed to make her angrier. “Shit, shit, shit! Kid, where was this lab of theirs? Did Carol tell you anything about where they were planning to take you? Did she tell you anything at all?”

Peter floundered for a moment at the sudden change in tone.

“She only mentioned that it was somewhere out west.” Peter replied. “Nothing else.”

“Natasha.” Tony interrupted when it was obvious Natasha was going to let her anger out on the kid. “What are we doing here? This isn’t us.”

Natasha’s eyes lit up with anger directed at him almost immediately. She stood to her full height, her hair in disarray as she got in his face. There was something else hidden behind her eyes, the same look Tony had seen on so many people since the outbreak.

Terror.

Something heavy lodged itself in Tony’s throat.

“What do you know about us, Tony? What do you know about me?”

“I know that you’re smarter than this.” Tony replied with just as much venom. “I know you, Nat! You know I do. You and me, we’ve been doing this thing for a long time. That includes spending a lot of time with each other, enough for me to know when something’s wrong. What’s going on with you?”

Natasha laughed, unamused, and rolled her eyes like Tony’s words meant nothing to her.

“Really, Tony?”

“Really.”

“Why does any of it matter? We’re shitty people Tony, it’s been that way for a long time!”

Natasha’s words were true, God he knew it was, but he couldn’t help the next words that tore from his throat.

“No, we are survivors!”

“This is our chance-”

“It’s over, Natasha!” Tony yelled, and his voice echoed around the empty foyer. Natasha faltered and her eyebrows creased, her eyes filling with emotion so quickly that it made Tony’s heart skip a beat. He lowered his voice, unable to look away from the unhidden fear shining in her eyes. “We tried. The Fireflies are dead, we’ve lost the weapons. There’s nothing else we can do, now let’s just go home.”

“There’s no going home for me, Tony.” Natasha took a step away, the fight leaving her in one, shaky breath. “This is my last stop.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Tony felt borderline hysterical at this point. He reached out to cup her face, to get her to meet his eye properly, but the reaction wasn’t one he expected. “Nat-”

“No!” She yanked her face out of Tony’s reach and took several steps backwards. “Don’t touch me.”

“Natasha, please, just tell me what the fuck’s going on with you!”

Silence. She said nothing, just ducked her head.

“No way.” Tony whipped around to face Peter, ready to yell at the kid, but then he saw the look on the boy’s face. He wasn’t even looking at Tony, he was looking at Natasha. He wore a similar expression to the redhead, eyebrows furrowed like he was going to start crying. “She’s… she’s infected.”

Tony was sure his whole world stopped moving.

He wanted to laugh, or scream, or cry. Maybe all three at the same time.

He turned back to Natasha, his voice void of emotion.

“What the fuck is he talking about?”

“Remember what you said about luck?” Natasha laughed, though there was nothing funny. “Guess it finally ran out. Funny, isn’t it?”

Tony stared at his friend. That’s when he noticed it, the slight tinge to her skin around her neck, near the collar of her shirt…

“Show it to me.”

“Tony…”

“Show it to me!”

Natasha yanked her collar back to reveal very clear, bloody teeth marks on her collarbone. It already looked bad, the virus had already started to climb up her neck. He didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything as he stared at the bite. The back of his throat prickled with the threat of tears, but he swallowed it back and tried to reign in his horrified expression.

It didn’t work. It felt like he’d been punched in the chest.

Not Natasha.

“You see, now?” Natasha laughed again and yanked her collar back over the bite. Her hand twitched again, and it finally made sense. It was the infection. “Our luck finally ran the fuck out. Oops, right?”

“Nat…”

Natasha shook her head, then turned to Peter, who had been watching on with silent misery. His eyes were watery, and he flinched when Natasha suddenly started to storm towards him.

“Give me your arm.” She snapped, and didn’t give time for Peter to answer. She grabbed his arm, pulled up his sleeve and yanked the bandage off. “Look at this Tony. Look!”

The bite hadn’t changed. It hadn’t spread, not like Natasha’s. It looked the fucking same.

“We were both bitten at the same time, and mine is already worse.” Natasha said, then yanked up Peter’s sleeve to reveal the first bite. “This was from three weeks ago! Three weeks, Tony! There’s no denying it!”

Her voice started to wobble, unable to school her feelings as she usually did. Natasha was as good as dead, especially with a bite so close to the neck. It would take no more than a few more hours for her to turn.

“This is fucking real, Tony! You have got to get this boy to Rhodey’s. He used to run with the Carol’s crew, he’ll know where to go-”

“No, no, no. That was your crusade! I am not doing that-”

“Yes, you are!” Natasha got back in his face, tears brimming her bright, green eyes. She cupped his cheeks with both hands and shook his head, clearly trying to get her point across. Tony didn’t want to listen. He didn’t want to believe that he was about to lose someone else. He could hardly look her in the eye, especially when he could feel how unsteady her hands were. “There is enough here that you have to feel some sort of obligation towards me, so you get him to Rhodey’s!”

Tony eyed Natasha’s collarbone, covered by her shirt. There was blood seeping through.

How hadn’t he realised?

He hadn’t been quick enough. Again. If he hadn’t waited for that clicker to leave, if he had just booked it to get to her and the kid instead of worrying about taking out all the clickers on the bottom floor first…

If he’d just been faster, neither of them would have gotten bitten.

“Natasha-”

“You get him to Rhodey’s.” Natasha repeated. Her thumb stroked his cheek for a moment before he shook his head again. “You do it for me.”

Before Tony could think of anything to say to his dying friend, the sound of a military vehicle arriving at the front of the Capitol Building filled his ears. Natasha pulled away from him and ran to the window, swearing under her breath. Peter backed away from the front door, his hand once again white-knuckled where it was wrapped around his wrist. His cheeks were shiny, eyes red as he looked between Tony, Natasha and the windows.

“FEDRA.” Natasha turned back around. “I can buy you some time, but not much. You have to run.”

“What?!” Peter exclaimed. “You want us to just leave you here?”

“Yes. It’s the only option.”

Tony’s panic really began to set in as the soldiers got out of the car.

“There is no fucking way I’m-”

“You said you knew me, Tony. I will not turn into one of those things. You know that.” At Tony’s look, a tear slipped from her eye. “Just make this easy for me. It’s okay.”

“I can stay, I can fight-”

“No!” Natasha shoved him hard enough that he stumbled and almost tripped. “Just fucking go!”

Tony stared at her for a long time. Natasha stared right back, another tear slipping, though her face held resolve. She’d accepted it, she’d accepted that there was nothing left for her.

She was right. Of course she was.

Natasha was always right, even when it came to her own demise.

“It’s okay.”

Tony felt something within him harden. As much as he wanted to stay, as much as he wanted to come up with a solution to save her, he knew he couldn’t. It was impossible for anything good to come out of this situation.

Ignoring the grief that so desperately wanted to explode from his chest, Tony looked at Natasha in the eye one last time before he turned around, grabbed Peter, and started to drag him towards the door at the back of the room. Immediately Peter began to struggle.

“No, what are you doing?!” Peter tried to dig his feet into the tiles, but it was no use. His shoes just slid across the smooth surface. The kid started to hit him, yanking violently against his hold, but Tony was too strong. “We’re not fucking leaving her! Let me go, I’m not going with you! How could you do this?!”

Tony ignored Peter’s pleas and dragged him through the door. Even after he slammed the door behind them, he didn’t let go of Peter, who immediately tried to go back for Natasha.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. They were supposed to drop the kid off with the fucking Fireflies and go their separate ways. Natasha wasn’t supposed to get bitten, the Fireflies weren’t supposed to be dead. He wasn’t supposed to be stuck with this random teenager who reminded him so much of his late daughter.

Grief tore through his chest as he pulled Peter away from the door.

“What the fuck?” Peter heaved, his voice so shaky that Tony almost wanted to comfort him. He seemed to realise his attempts to get away from Tony were futile, and practically went limp as he stared at the closed doors with tears sliding down his cheeks. “I can’t believe we just did that! We just left her to die, we have to go back and help her, this is all my fucking fau-”

“Stop!” Tony snapped as he turned Peter around to face him, both hands on the kid’s shoulders. Peter’s dark brown eyes, just like Morgan’s bored into his very soul as he stared up at Tony. For a brief moment, his daughter was staring back at him. He blinked and the image was gone. “You’re going to stick close to me and we’re going to run, or else we’re dead. Got it?”

“Y-yeah.” Peter stammered. “I got it.”

“Good. Now move.”

Tony let Peter go and took off up the concrete staircase without waiting. He heard Peter’s quick footsteps behind him as he ran up the hallway, ears ringing when the gunfire began in the foyer. His stomach did a painful flip when he heard his friend scream, then abruptly get cut short.

When they reached the small balcony that overlooked the foyer, they had to duck behind the railing to hide from the soldiers below. His throat constricted when he saw Natasha on the ground, face down, a pool of blood growing around her body as the soldiers conversed around her. There were two soldiers down, blood pooling around their bodies too.

He’d never see Natasha’s face again.

“Target neutralised. She took out two of my men… Got it. You, take out the door. You, with me.”

Pepper, crushed in Rhodey’s car, still and unmoving with a glass shard in the back of her head. Their baby inside of her, gone before he could be brought into the world.

“Yes sir!”

Morgan, splayed in the mud, covered with her own blood as Tony failed to save her.

Tony got up and headed for the next archway the moment the door was kicked open downstairs. When he checked to see where the kid was, Peter was on his heels, tears still dripping down his face. He’d seen Natasha’s body, too.

Fuck, her body.

She was dead, and there was nothing Tony could do about it.

Just like he couldn’t do anything to save his family.

Tony led Peter into a much larger room, but paid no attention to his surroundings as he made his way to a massive, gaping hole in the wall. He jumped across into the next room, his ears still ringing as he looked around for anything useful. Supplies, bullets, anything he could use against the soldiers that were on their way to kill them if they didn’t act fast.

He couldn’t stand the thought of Natasha’s death being for nothing.

His eyes eventually found a dead Firefly, a hunting rifle propped against him. Tony picked it up, relieved that there was still some ammo left. He patted the body down and found another few rounds, stuffed them in his pocket, and left before he could think too much about it. In the corner of his eye, he watched Peter pick up a brick with one hand and wipe his face with the other.

Just as they entered the next room, four soldiers entered at the opposite end.

“Get down!” Tony whispered as he ducked behind the first thing he could see.

“What are we gonna do?” Peter whispered, clearly panicked. “Tony?!”

“I got it.” Tony mumbled back. “Stay with me, okay kid?”

“Okay.”

He watched the soldiers split off in different directions before he made his first move. Despite the corridor being a large, open space, there was enough furniture around that blocked them from sight. Most were covered in white sheets, and Tony used this to his advantage as he ducked into a connecting room undetected.

Inside were a few display cases, for what, Tony didn’t care. A soldier was quickly approaching, gun raised and ready to fire. He remained hidden behind the display cases, Peter behind him as he waited for the soldier to pass by. When the time was right, he stood up and hit the man in the back of the head with the butt of the hunting rifle. Thankfully, all he was wearing was a flimsy cap that did nothing to protect his skull.

He went down like a sack of potatoes, the thump not loud enough to alert the soldiers in the other rooms. The place was far too big, which was an advantage to them. If they were lucky, they could sneak by without alerting any of them.

If only things could be that easy.

All it took was for Peter to trip and stumble into a large, fragile glass cabinet. There had been a hole in the floor’s tiles, large enough for the kid’s foot to get stuck in, and neither of them had noticed until it was too late. The glass, weak from years of rotting, smashed immediately when Peter crashed into it. Glass rained down on the kid, who let out a startled sound and dropped the brick he’d been holding with another equally as loud smash.

Like moths to a flame, the remaining soldiers started to flood in their direction at an alarming speed.

Tony dragged the kid away from the glass and into another room that attached to the hallway, just as two soldiers entered the room with their guns raised. Tony really wished he had a molotov right now, so he could burn the fuckers that killed Natasha.

When the soldiers found nothing but the remains of Peter’s stumble, they started to sweep the building again. It wouldn’t be long before they entered the room Peter and Tony were hidden in, so he had to think fast.

Tony looked all around him until he found something the kid could use. He snatched another brick that had fallen out of the wall and handed it to Peter.

“When those soldiers come in here, you’re going to throw that at the closet one.” Tony whispered as quietly as he could. “You just have to hit him, and I’ll shoot the other one while he’s dazed. You hear me?”

“I hear you.” Peter nodded as he gripped the brick tight in his hand.

“When I signal, you throw.”

Peter nodded again. Aware that he was essentially putting his life in a kid’s hands, he raised the hunting rifle and leant against the couch they were hidden behind. He tried not to think about Natasha’s motionless body as he made sure the rifle was loaded, then braced himself as the two sets of footsteps got closer.

As predicted, both soldiers stepped into the room at the same time.

“Now.” Tony snapped, the word barely making it past his lips, but the kid heard.

With a grunt, Peter hurled the brick over the couch and towards the closest soldier. It hit in the man in the shoulder, who stumbled with a confused and paint grunt as Tony pulled the trigger. The other soldier went down without a sound as Tony took cover and reloaded the rifle. When he popped up again, the dazed soldier was just re-orienting himself. Tony pulled the trigger again, blood splattering against the wall behind the man as he crumpled.

At the sound of the gunshots, the final soldier outside became alert. They’d have to be careful now. He’d most likely called for backup already.

“Good job, kid.” Tony muttered. “Now you stay here. Do not move until I tell you to.”

“Okay.” Peter remained tucked behind the couch. “Staying here.”

Tony crept out into the main corridor at the same time as the soldier. Unfortunately for him, Tony was quicker to react, and the man had a rifle to the face before he could even think to put a bullet in Tony. He crumbled to the floor with a cry, his nose definitely broken, but he was met with a boot to the head before he could reach for his bleeding nose.

Once Tony was sure the soldier was knocked out, he called for the kid to come out.

When Peter joined him, Tony immediately got him moving. Down another flight of stairs there were more soldiers, all of which had heard the gunfire upstairs. Using their earlier tactic, Tony ordered Peter to throw the brick at a soldier when there was two in the room, then shot the other. They weaved in an out of rooms, narrowly escaping death each time, every encounter closer that Tony liked. The kid himself looked scared shitless and on edge, but held himself well enough when they stumbled out the back of the Capitol Building.

Their reprieve didn’t last long. There was an armoured car outside, waiting, with a mounted gun. The second they saw them, the soldiers started yelling at each other, and the car roared to life. Tony didn’t need to see the turret spinning to face them, the sound all he needed to hear before he grabbed the kid by the arm and made a break for the entrance to the subway.

It was still flooded out the back, but thankfully for the kid, it was only calf-deep.

The stairs to the subway entrance weren’t really stairs anymore. Mud covered were the steps used to be, the staircase more of an incline before it broke away completely. Peter ran in front of him, already at the bottom while Tony jumped off the small ledge. At the same time, the car stopped beside the entrance, the turret pointed directly at them.

“They’re headed into the subway, stop them!”

Bullets fired as Tony and Peter sprinted into the darkness. He barely had time to turn on his flashlight so he didn’t crash into a wall or trip over a chunk of concrete, the kid essentially running blind as they tore through the subway station. The soldiers would be following them down at any moment, so they had to get as much ground on them as they could.

Right before they entered the main platform itself, Tony spotted spores pouring out from the doorway. Swearing, he stopped and almost ripped open his backpack to get his mask, then shoved it on his face and followed Peter into the spore-riddled station.

The room was filled with spores and infection. Entire walls were covered with cordyceps, the air thick as it floated around the otherwise still room. There was no sign of any clickers, but they had to be around here somewhere. With all the noise they were making, infected of any sort were bound to show up at some point.

Before Tony could step any further into the platform, the teen leapt out from where he’d been crouched behind a vending machine and a set of chairs and dragged him to cover. He looked at Peter, startled at the sudden movement, for a second even believed that the kid was a soldier. His body was tense as he spun to look at Peter, fists clenched at his sides.

“There’s a soldier over there.” Peter whispered, and sure enough, a soldier’s flashlight shone through the station.

On reflex, Tony quickly turned off his flashlight and stared at the kid.

Something was missing.

He continued to stare, breathing heavily through his mask from the exertion.

Mask.

Peter wasn’t wearing a gas mask.

Unlike any other person would, the kid wasn’t coughing at all. He showed no reaction to breathing in literal spores, nor did he even seem to notice it himself as he watched the soldier creep around ahead of them.

There was no denying it now. All the immune talk, both bite marks compared to Natasha’s, the lack of symptoms. The evidence was staring at Tony right in the face, and there was no way he could doubt the kid or Carol anymore.

It was real. Natasha had been right, again.

It felt like a rock had settled in Tony’s throat at the thought of the redhead, but he pushed it all away in favour of staring at Peter through the glass of his mask.

“How are you breathing in this stuff?” Tony asked even though he knew exactly why, his tired brain still trying to make sense of what he was seeing. All Peter did was wipe his nose, as if the spores merely itched. “Kid?”

“I told you. I wasn’t lying.” Peter suddenly looked ten years older than he was as he clasped his wrist. “Three weeks.”

Tony took a deep breath to settle his racing heart. There was no time to come up with a response, because a soldier rushed through the doorway they had just come through and over to the other at the end of the platform.

“Did you see them?” The woman panted, out of breath.

“No, the place is empty.” The other soldier replied. “Let’s search the area, find them and get the hell out of here before any clickers show up.”

As the soldiers dispersed, Tony pulled out his handgun. He hooked the rifle on his backpack, attention focussed on the soldier headed straight for their hiding place. The other stepped down from the platform and onto the tracks, flashlight illuminating the diseased walls as she swept the area for them.

Just as the male soldier stepped around the vending machine, Tony leapt up and grabbed him around the neck.

The female soldier was immediately alerted to the scuffle. Tony had one arm wrapped around the soldier, the other holding his gun in her direction. Without an ounce of hesitation, he fired twice, the woman’s body falling backwards onto the tracks on the second hit. Only then did Tony finish off the other soldier, chest heaving as he headed for the abandoned subway car.

The spores seemed thicker in the smaller space, which reminded him to stay alert. Peter trailed behind him, still breathing just as clearly as he had outside, like nothing was different. It didn’t even seem to affect his asthma.

There wasn’t much inside the subway car. It was fairly empty, no supplies to be found. They exited at the other side into the tunnel itself, only to be faced with two more subway cars in a similar state. Tony led Peter through the closest one, which was just as empty as the first.

The other side was flooded.

Tony stepped into the water, which was considerably colder than the flood in front of the Capitol Building.

The Capitol Building were Natasha lay, still in a puddle of her own blood, just like the rest of his family. Where she would lay for who knows how long, until she was just a skeleton…

“Um, Tony?” Tony was almost fully submerged in the deep water when the kid spoke. The entire tunnel was cut off by a cave in, the outside light shining in as Tony looked around for somewhere to get through. As much as he didn’t want to, he’d have to duck his head under to see if there was a way through. “I can’t swim.”

“We’ll figure something out.” He grumbled as he swam over to the cave in. His breaths sounded ragged in the filter of the gas mask, but he ignored his own exhaustion. “Just wait here.”

Tony dove under, relieved to see a big enough opening to get himself through. Further up ahead, there was another gap to swim through, so he didn’t bother going up for air as he pushed himself through the first. He emerged on the other side and took in a deep breath as he climbed on top of a submerged subway car. It was darker in this part of the station, no holes in the ceiling to bring in light from the outside. Tony flicked his flashlight on and looked around, thankful to see no signs of infected. The air was still thick with spores, however.

“Peter?” Tony called out, and when he didn’t receive a response, subtle panic seized his heart. “You okay over there? I don’t know if there’s a way through-”

“I’m fine!” Peter called out just as he shuffled around some of the debris. He was almost shoulders deep in the water, but he didn’t seem too bothered as he made his way over to a platform that rose out of the water. He’d found a walkway high enough against the wall that he didn’t need to swim to get through. “You know, you could have just walked.”

Tony stared at Peter as he climbed onto the platform with a grunt, shivering slightly from the cold. Compared to the summer sun outside, the abandoned subway station was freezing.

The kid’s attitude had completely changed, like the Capitol Building hadn’t even happened. Tony had a sneaking suspicion that it was a defence mechanism, but he wasn’t going to voice it out loud. This wasn’t his kid, he couldn’t get attached.

He couldn’t afford to get attached.

He was only cargo. Once they got to Rhodey’s they would go their separate ways.

“There’s a body.” Peter stated, already headed towards the corpse that Tony was just able to see in the corner of the light created by his flashlight. He got down from the top of the subway car and started to swim over to the kid, who bent down and picked something up. It was a flashlight similar to Tony’s. “Oh, cool! You don’t think this dude will miss it, do you?”

Peter turned it on and immediately blinded himself.

“Kid…”

“I didn’t think so. At least it still works!” Peter rubbed his eyes with a wince, then hooked his flashlight onto his own backpack strap, just like Tony’s. “How am I supposed to get over there?”

Tony looked to where the kid was pointing. On the other side of where they were stood was the proper subway platform. It was too high for Tony to climb from the water with no support, and there was no way he’d be able to drag the kid over in the water with him. He spotted a wooden pallet floating in the water up the end of the tunnel, which looked stable enough to hold the Peter’s weight.

“Wait here.” Tony jumped back in the water and pushed off the wall.

“You’re not gonna leave me here, right?” Peter called out. Tony didn’t answer. “Right…? Oh, look! This guy has a note with him.”

As Tony grabbed the pallet and started making his way back, Peter started to read the note out loud in a fake, enthusiastic voice, as if he was reading a story to a child.

“Your contact is a dude named Bucky.” Peter paused. “Bucky. Huh. That’s a weird name. He’s the guy on the outside I’ve been trading with. He wants into the Boston QZ. Meet him in the Park Street exit of the subway station, right by the Capitol Building.”

Bucky. Tony hadn’t heard that name in a long time, not since the last time he and Natasha had seen Clint. His frown deepened at the words.

If Bucky wanted in to the quarantine zone, something must have happened with Clint. In the time that Tony had known the two of them, they would never separate. They remained holed up in their town together far away from civilisation and the infected.

Peter didn’t seem to notice what Tony was coming back with nor his reaction to the name, too busy with his nose stuck in some random dead man’s note.

A random dead man who knew Bucky, apparently.

“Attached is his Visa and QZ papers. Be careful down there. Some of my other guys are reporting clickers and… stalkers in the area.” Peter didn’t read any more after that, and when Tony glanced at the kid’s face, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. “What the fuck is a stalker?”

Tony positioned the pallet in front of where Peter was standing. “Hop on.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell a stalker is.” Peter snapped and dropped the note, eyeing the pallet with distrust. “No way! I’m gonna fall off that thing and drown. How long would it have been floating around down here? Twenty years?”

“Just get on, Peter.” Tony snapped. “We don’t have all day.”

“Don’t you think I should know what a stalker is?” Peter snapped back. “Do they like, stalk you, or some shit? How many other infected are there that I don’t know about? Why didn’t school teach us about any of this…?”

“You’re right, kid. That’s exactly what they do. They stalk.” It might have sounded like a joke, but Tony was dead serious. “Now get on the damn pallet.”

“You’re actually being serious?” Peter eyed him with scrutiny that suddenly reminded him of Natasha and Pepper. His knuckles whitened where they were clenched around the pallet, quickly losing patience as he froze his ass off waiting for the kid to move. “They actually… what the fuck?”

“I’ll tell you more if you get on the fucking pallet.”

“Okay! Fine! I’ll get on the fucking pallet.” Peter snapped, then hesitated. “You won’t let me fall in?”

“No. I’ve got you.”

“Okay…”

With grace that reminded him of a newborn baby deer, Peter’s knees buckled the second he stepped onto the pallet. Tony had a tight enough grip that the pallet didn’t tip, along with the extra support of it being pressed against the platform. Peter winced, but kept his lips firmly sealed as Tony pulled away from the wall and pushed him over to the other platform.

It was difficult, but he managed. The second the pallet connected with the concrete, Peter scrambled over the edge and got to his feet.

“Can you see anything?” Tony asked as he pushed the pallet away and held onto the platform with one hand.

Peter didn’t reply, but he could hear him moving around up there, looking for something to use. Eventually, he heard the scrape of a ladder across the platform, and soon it appeared in his vision. With the help of Peter, he pulled the ladder over the edge and propped it against the wall.

Before Tony was even on the platform, Peter was talking again.

“So, what’s a stalker?”

Tony sighed, the sound muted through the mask.

“It’s in the name, kid.” Tony said as he looked around the dirty platform for supplies. He found a few stray bullets and an old first aid kit, which had enough bandages and medicine inside to be deemed useful. He tucked it into his backpack and reloaded the revolver as Peter ventured to the other end of the platform. “They’ll hide from you until the perfect time to attack. They’re fucking quiet, too, so most of the time they will manage sneak up on you. They’re in-between a runner and a clicker.”

“They hide?” Peter sounded horrified as he shifted through a few old suitcases. “So… there could be some down here, stalking us right now?”

“There could be.” Tony didn’t want to think about it. “Which is why we have to stay alert. Sometimes, when they don’t know you’re there, you can hear them.”

“Creepy. Is there… any other infected out there? Anything that’s worse than stalkers and clickers?”

Tony was sure the kid would have a heart attack if he knew about bloaters.

Not wanting to distress the kid any further, he lied.

“No.”

Peter believed him.

If they ever encountered a bloater, he could worry about it then.

“Have you ever fought a stalker?” Peter asked as they continued their way through the station, looking for an exit. When Tony nodded, Peter made an impressed sound. “So that means you’ve killed one?”

“Yep.” Tony muttered as he pulled on a gate. Locked. They continued left and through the station instead. “They’re not as common as runners or clickers, though. We should be fine.”

“Cool.” It sounded like he thought the opposite. They came to the base of a staircase, light from the outside pouring down the skinny tunnel. He could already feel the summer heat on his skin. “What do they look like?”

“Halfway between a runner and a clicker.”

“Ew. Why do you think the military didn’t tell us? Don’t they want us to know these things to, you know, join FEDRA?”

“I don’t know, kid.”

Tony made his way up the stairs, then climbed the rest of the way where the stairs had caved in.

The second he stepped outside, his shoulders slumped.

No more spores, no more soldiers, no infected.

For now.

Tony coughed and slumped down onto a log, giving himself a second to rest. Now that the immediate danger was gone, his mind was flooded with Natasha’s green eyes, shining with tears before she turned around to seal her fate. Her body, splayed on the ground, surrounded by red, not moving.

Morgan, on the ground, ragged breaths echoing around the eerie quiet.

Peter hovered in front of him, his mood visibly decreasing as he watched Tony.

“Listen, about Nat…” Peter trailed. Tony’s anger spiked immediately. “I’m sorry, I know it’s my-”

“Here’s how this is going to play out.” Tony cut the kid off. Peter’s jaw clicked shut, a frown appearing on his face. “You don’t bring up Natasha, ever. You know what? Why don’t we keep our histories to ourselves.”

“But-”

“No. You also don’t tell anyone about your… condition. They’ll either think you’re insane, or they’ll kill you on the spot.”

Peter nodded along, shoulders hunched, expression filled with so much guilt that Tony almost backtracked. He couldn’t get attached, not again. This wasn’t Morgan or his son.

Peter was cargo.

“Lastly, you do what I say, when I say it. We clear?”

“Sure.” Peter avoided meeting his eye and looked down at his dirty converse instead. “We’re clear.”

“Repeat it.”

It was Peter’s turn to sigh this time. When he met Tony’s eyes, it felt like he was once again looking at someone ten years older. Guilt almost tore through his anger, but he reigned it in at the last second.

“What you say goes.”

Tony sighed, bowed his head, then rubbed his face.

As he packed his gas mask away, he thought through his options. Rhodey was in Wyoming, and there’s no way they’d be able to get to Jackson on foot. There was only one option, really.

They needed a car, and there was only one person who could get them one.

Clint.

“Alright.” Tony got to his feet and slung his backpack over his shoulders. “There’s a town a few miles north of here. There’s a man there who owes me some favours, and there’s a pretty good chance he could get us a car.”

“That’s cool. Great. I can’t wait.”

Tony had to bite his tongue to stop himself from reacting to Peter’s sarcasm. The kid had become subdued, and Tony knew that was his doing. That had been his intention, after all.

But when he turned back to glance at the kid, he couldn’t help the guilt that threatened to rise for the umpteenth time in the last five minutes. He quickly turned away and forced his emotions to ride in the backseat along with the images of Natasha and his family.

Cargo. Cargo.

All he had to do was get Peter to Rhodey and be done with it.

After then, he had no idea what he’d do. There was no Natasha to come home to anymore.

“Come on.” Tony started walking without waiting to see if the kid was following. “Time to go.”

Chapter Text

Peter had been remarkably quiet throughout their walk to the water tower nearby Clint’s town.

He trailed behind Tony, head down, hands wrapped around his backpack straps as he kicked stones, trash and anything else that was in his path. Sometimes, a stone or two would hit the heel of Tony’s boot, and when he turned back to glare at the kid, he would be smirking mischievously like it was intentional.

So not all of Peter’s snark had dissipated after Tony’s lecture.

One part of Tony was grateful for the silence. The less the kid talked, the less opportunities there were for him to compare the teen to Morgan, the less chance there was of caring.

But with the silence came the trap in the form of his own mind.

Over and over his thoughts brought him back to Natasha’s terrified, watery eyes and the blood puddle she laid in. The bite mark, dripping red down her collar bone, soaking her shirt. Everywhere he looked, there was a reminder of his late friend, whether it be through an old movie poster she liked or something as simple as a flower growing through a crack in the tarmac.

It was the same way he was after Pepper, Morgan and his baby boy. Except, it had been worse back when the outbreak first began, when most things from every day life were still intact. He hadn’t known Natasha before the infection destroyed the world.

Those years were all but a blur to Tony. Rhodey would remember more of it than he did.

Tony came to a stop when he had a clear view of the water tower. Peter, who obviously hadn’t noticed Tony stopped walking, bumped into his back.

“Oh.” Peter quickly stepped away and peered up at Tony inquisitively. “Why are we stopping?”

“There’s where we’re headed.” Tony pointed to the water tower and swung one leg over the guard rail. They’d been walking on an old road, which was barely recognisable under the overgrown bushes and trees. The remaining tarmac and pieces of guard rails were the only things left, along with the odd crashed and abandoned cars. “It’ll be quicker to walk through here.”

Peter followed without complaint. He copied Tony’s movements and swung his leg over, his eyes suddenly bright with joy. Tony didn’t ask what had lifted the kid’s mood so suddenly, and instead let himself drop down the small ledge.

“This is awesome.” Peter muttered behind Tony as he too dropped and landed with a small thud. “I can’t believe this!”

“What?” Tony asked.

“The woods!” When Tony turned around, Peter’s eyes were even brighter as he looked around his surroundings. The kid threw up his arms, a gesture to the environment. “Look!”

Tony looked. To him, it was nothing special.

He said as much.

“Kiddo, it’s just the woods.”

Tony winced at the nickname that had somehow forced itself from his mouth, but thankfully, Peter was too busy ogling the trees and flowers to pay much attention.

“I’ve never walked through the woods before.” The teen kneeled down and picked a small, purple flower. The sight pierced through Tony’s heart, his mind filled with images of Morgan in the backyard, searching for the perfect flower to give Pepper for her birthday. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. I never thought I would, you know. I thought I’d be stuck in the QZ for the rest of my life.”

“Is that why you liked to sneak out?”

Peter frowned at the flower for a moment before he straightened up. He twirled the stem in his fingers and trudged after Tony, who had stopped further up ahead.

“I thought we were keeping our histories to ourselves.” Tony sighed, which seemed to make Peter sigh as well. The mood started to drop again. “Why can’t you just take me back to Carol?”

“Do you really think she would pass you off to us if she was up to it?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “With the state she was in, you both wouldn’t have made it past the wall. You’d be worse off than she was.”

“What if she’s better now?”

“Kid, she was bleeding out. Her chances of survival weren’t high to begin with.”

“You know, she’s a lot tougher than you think.”

Peter twirled the flower again, hands slightly trembling.

“Even if she was in good condition, there’s a very small chance I’d be able to get you back through the wall. We’d both get shot on sight.” Tony started to walk again, unable to look at the kid anymore. “Believe me, if there was any other option, I’d take it.”

“I know.” Peter grumbled, but then like a switch had been flipped, the excitement was back in full force. “Hi, little guy!”

A rabbit bounced out of the bushes and past Peter’s feet. The kid was smiling again, big and bright as he watched the bunny bounce up the path they’d just taken. When it disappeared from sight, he turned to Tony, still grinning.

To Tony’s surprise, a smile tugged at his own lips.

Peter must have seen it, because his eyes seemed to brighten even more.

They followed the dirt trail that had been formed by multiple people walking through the woods up until they reached the water tower. It was closed off by a locked fence, which made Tony internally curse Clint as he started to make his way around the back. Just as he stepped over a fallen tree trunk, Peter let out another exclamation of excitement behind him.

“No way!” Tony turned around to see what the kid was up to this time. Peter had both arms out, fireflies floating around his body. “Fireflies, real fireflies! Man, there’s nothing like this in the QZ. No wonder everyone is so miserable all the time. Ned would have-”

Peter’s jaw suddenly snapped shut. Pain flashed across his face and he lowered his arms back to his sides.

“Sorry, I just lost myself for a second.”

Tony didn’t question it, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued. Whoever Ned was, he obviously meant a lot to Peter if the look on his face was anything to go by. Was he someone Peter had left behind in the zone, or someone that had died?

From the look on Peter’s face, Tony assumed it was the latter.

He shouldn’t care. He’d just told the kid that they keep their histories to themselves, yet at the first hint of knowing something about Peter’s past, he wanted to ask questions.

Instead, he pretended like Peter hadn’t said anything.

There was a small shed outside of the fenced off area. Beside it was an old radiator they could use to climb to the roof, but he needed something to place across the gap. Thankfully, it didn’t take long to locate a semi-stable plank big enough to reach the gap, and with the kid’s help they lifted it onto the roof of the shed.

While Peter busied himself with climbing onto the radiator, Tony picked up the plank and dropped it across the gap.

In the distance, black, billowing smoke lifted from somewhere within the town.

“That you, Clint?” Tony sighed as he crossed the plank to the other roof. “Better be you.”

With a backwards glance to make sure Peter made it across the plank, Tony crouched and dropped from the roof. When he didn’t hear a second thud, a groan started to bubble up his throat as he turned around to see what was taking the kid so long.

As expected, he was hesitating.

“What is up with you?” Tony asked and crossed his arms. “You’ll walk over a plank that you’ll die if you fall, but you won’t jump off a roof? I don’t get it.”

Peter, to his credit, looked alarmed that Tony had noticed. “I can do it!”

“Then what are you still doing up there? Get down!”

“Fine!” Peter whined, but did as he was told. But, instead of jumping, he fell. Just like in the ravine back at the quarantine zone, Tony had to leap out to break his fall before he broke an ankle. The distance from the roof to the ground had been smaller than the ledge, but he didn’t need a kid with a messed up ankle on his hands. “Sorry, sorry…”

“You’re a weird kid.” Tony let go of Peter almost immediately. The kid’s cheeks were scarlet red with embarrassment. “It’s not even that high.”

“Shut up!” Peter snapped and crossed his arms. “I just had a bad experience once, okay?”

Again, Tony was interested, but didn’t act upon his curiosity.

The silence between them was heavy as they started to advance forward into the town. It was easy enough to traverse through, and thankfully, downhill. Tony’s knees were screaming from the overuse, and the ledge he had to drop from to get deeper into the town didn’t help. Whenever they got the chance, they were going to rest.

“Need help?” Tony asked Peter, who shook his head, but continued to hesitate. “Seriously, kid, we can’t wait around all fucking day.”

Peter grumbled something under his breath, but sat himself down and shuffled off the edge instead of jumping. Tony hovered close by, just incase it somehow went drastically wrong, but Peter landed firmly and safely on both feet.

Peter immediately headed in the direction of some old kid’s toys piled beneath a basketball ring, eyes wide with interest. Tony both kept an eye on the kid and an eye out for infected, unsure how much of the town Clint had cleared, if any.

He’d never been inside the actual town before, only Natasha had. He’d met up with Clint in several different places, but never the town. Clint was most likely the only other person that knew Natasha as well as Tony did.

He had no idea she was dead.

The grief that tore through him was enough to take his attention off the kid’s whereabouts. When he heard the kid let out a yelp, followed by the piercing screech of a clicker, Tony’s brain immediately came back into focus.

In the few minutes that he was distracted, Peter had wandered off and managed to find a small garden shed with a clicker hidden inside. Tony had the hunting rifle unhooked from his backpack and in his hand at once, barrel aimed at the clicker as it tore after Peter with its arms flailing. Peter, to his credit, could run pretty fast for an asthmatic, but not fast enough. If Tony waited any longer, the clicker would be on him.

Out of all the clickers Peter could have bumped into, this was the worst. It was tall, lanky, and fast. The bigger infected were always the worst to deal with.

This was hardly anything compared to a bloater, however.

Once Tony had close enough to a perfect shot, he pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced through the clicker’s throat and slowed it down enough for Peter to get a good distance away, blood pouring from the wound as it turned in Tony’s direction. He pulled the trigger again, and this time it lodged in what was left of the thing’s brain. The second it was down, he rushed over to Peter, who had hidden himself behind a pile of stacked furniture.

“Jesus, kid.” Tony breathed as he made an aborted motion to grab the kid. “You good?”

“I’m good.” Peter was incredibly pale, and his words had a slight wheeze to it. The kid didn’t reach for his inhaler. He ignored Tony’s hand and got to his feet, dusted himself off and took a deep breath. “That scared the shit out of me. It was just standing in there, completely silent! What the fu-”

“From now on, you stick with me until we know the area’s clear.” Tony cut Peter off before he could go off on a tangent. “We have to be careful now.”

“What if there’s stalkers around here?” Peter replied as Tony made his way towards a locked gate. “Or… or anything worse?”

“Then keep an ear out.”

Tony doubted there would be stalkers around, but there was always that slight percentage. However much of the town Clint had cleared, it couldn’t be all of it. For all he knew, a bloater could be lurking in the depths of a house’s basement somewhere.

“Wait!” Peter shouted far too loud as Tony tried to open the gate. It was jammed on the other side with a crowbar. Fuck. “Is there any, you know… kid infected? Kids younger than me?”

Tony sighed. “Yes.”

“Really?” A frown started to form on Peter’s face as he looked at Tony. “Have you ever seen one?”

“Yes.”

Tony yanked on the gate in the hopes of dislodging the crowbar, but it was futile.

He’d seen his fair share of infected kids. Kids Peter’s age, kids far younger. Most of them died in the early runner stages, their bodies too weak to withhold the virus. Most of the ones Tony saw had already passed, but there were some that made it to a clicker.

Those were the most disturbing. Seeing a child with their head engulfed by Cordyceps was something that had been in his nightmares one too many times.

“Have you ever had to k-”

“Cut it out, kid.”

“Sorry.” Peter did look genuinely sorry as he adverted his eyes from Tony. “Hey, if you boosted me up, I could take that out and open the gate for you.”

“Says the kid who can’t jump off a roof.”

“Well I can’t lift you up!” Peter walked over to the gate and put his fingers through the holes. “There’s no other way we’re getting over.”

“Fine.”

Tony got down on one knee and cupped his hands. Peter stepped into them and used his fingers to hoist himself up, though it was mostly Tony doing all the work. It wasn’t much work at all, considering the teenager was as light as a feather. He watched with a bated breath as Peter climbed over the top of the fence, only hesitating for a second at the top before he jumped down.

“See!” Peter proudly put his hands on his hips. “I did it!”

“The crowbar, brat.” The astonished look on Peter’s face almost made Tony laugh. “Hurry it up!”

Peter rolled his eyes, but yanked the crowbar out. Tony opened the gate and stepped through, hand hovering on his gun just in case the noise they were making attracted any more infected. When the street remained silent, he relaxed just slightly and turned to Peter who was rolling the crowbar around in his hands.

Tony held out his hand and waited.

“What?” Peter looked at Tony’s hand like he had six fingers.

“Crowbar.”

“Why?” Peter whined, just short of stomping his foot like a child.

“Because I said so. Now give it to me.” Tony made a grabbing motion. “Brat.”

The kid groaned and passed him the crowbar with a fierce glare. Tony snickered to himself and hooked the weapon on his backpack beside the hunting rifle, then looked around the street they’d ended up in.

It was empty, barren from life and infected combined. Tony didn’t want to get too ahead of himself, because it was just as likely for a stray clicker to be hidden in one the buildings waiting for its lunch to come by.

The first few buildings they checked were already stripped of supplies. Peter followed him around like a stray puppy, muttering under his breath about stalkers as he turned around each corner. Despite Tony’s hardened heart, he couldn’t stop his demeanour softening at the kid’s antics.

“Tony, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.” Tony sighed as he eyed a few old snacks behind the glass of a vending machine.

“So, if we get a car from this buddy of yours, what’re we gonna do then?” Peter was also looking through the glass. “I’ve never been in a car, you know. It’s gonna be so cool! I bet it’ll feel like I’m in a spaceship. Man, I wish I could go to space.”

Tony wished he could feel shocked that Peter had never been in a car before. It made sense, given the kid had grown up in the quarantine zone. There weren’t a lot of chances to do, well, anything in any QZ.

“We’ll find Rhodey.”

“Rhodey.” Peter repeated as Tony unhooked the crowbar. “Is that his real name? Is he your brother? Carol said he was.”

“Not biologically, but yes. He’s my brother. He was- is my best friend.” Tony felt his heart harden back up at the mention of Rhodey. “His name is actually James, I gave him his nickname a long time ago. He used to be a Firefly, so he’ll know where to take you. He lives pretty far from here, which is why we need the car.”

“Oh.” Peter tapped the glass and eyed the crowbar with mischievous eyes. “Come on, let me smash it!”

“Alright, go on.”

Peter took great glee in swinging the crowbar as hard as he could into the glass. He laughed when it shattered, then immediately reached in to snatch the snacks from their holders and ungracefully dropped the crowbar on the ground. Tony grabbed one of the packets out of the kid’s hand and searched for the expiry date, not liking their chances.

“November seventeenth, two thousand and fourteen.”

“Damn.” Peter sighed and dropped the two packets of chips he was holding on the floor. He stomped on them, the pops echoing around the room. “I’ll never get to try any cool snacks.”

“Born too late, kiddo.” Tony sighed and dropped his packet as well. Most, if not all things that were left behind in the wake of the apocalypse were expired. In the beginning, it was easy to find supplies, even with looters everywhere. Tony picked up the crowbar and turned to Peter. “We’re not going to have much luck in the snack department. Come on.”

As they exited the building, Peter kept on talking.

“I have another question.”

“Really?”

“This all happened in one day, right? Everything was normal, people were going to school, to the movies, restaurants, flying in planes… then it all just stopped? When everyone got infected all at once?” Peter followed Tony into another building that looked like it used to be a cafe. “But it doesn’t make sense. If you have to get bitten to get infected, who bit the first person? Was it a monkey? I bet it was a monkey.”

“It wasn’t a monkey.” Tony sighed. “Did they teach you anything in that school?”

“What do you think, man? It’s FEDRA.” Peter sighed. “So tell me, how did it start- oh my God!”

In the blink of an eye, Peter was gone from his side and in front of an old arcade game machine.

“Look at you.” Peter marvelled as he pressed the buttons and moved the joystick.

The machine itself was covered in dirt, but underneath the grime, he could see the title of the game. The Turning.

How fitting.

“What, you’ve played some old arcade machine but you haven’t been in a car? I didn’t know they allowed those in the QZ.”

“Nah, I just had a friend who knew everything about this game.” Peter made noises under his breath as he pressed the buttons, like he was actually playing the game. “Apparently, there’s this character called Angel Knives who would punch a hole through your stomach then kick your head off! Super weird, but super cool.”

“I was never a fan of these things.”

“Really? I never would’ve guessed.” Peter made a face at him before he sighed. “I wish I could play it.”

When Peter didn’t say anything else but continued to stare sadly at the dark screen, Tony nodded to himself, and started to make his way out of the cafe.

As they headed further down the street, Tony assumed Peter had forgotten about his question. It took about five minutes for the chatter to start up again.

“You never answered my question. If it wasn’t monkeys, what was it that infected everyone?”

Tony really didn’t like to recount the literal end of the world, but he knew Peter wasn’t going to let it go until he got answers.

“No one knows for sure. The most likely thing is that the Cordyceps mutated, then some of it got into the food supply, probably the most basic ingredient like flour or sugar. There were certain brands that sold across the country and across the world, like bread, cereal. Pancake mix.” That morning, Morgan had wanted to make pancakes for his birthday breakfast before work. They had no pancake mix and had scrambled eggs and bacon instead. “You eat enough of it, you get sick.”

When Peter did nothing but give him a wide-eyed stare, Tony continued.

“Tainted food went on store shelves at around the same time Thursday, people bought it. Some ate it on Thursday night, some on Friday morning. Day goes on, some get sick. By the evening, they’re worse. That’s when they started biting.” Tony glanced at Peter, who looked horrified by the information. “Friday night, May twenty-ninth, two thousand and thirteen.”

His birthday.

Pepper, Morgan and his son’s last day alive.

The last day Tony felt like he was alive.

“By Monday, everything was gone.”

“That was… way worse than I thought.” Peter whispered. “I mean, I don’t really know what I expected. It’s a fucking apocalypse. But, it makes more sense than the monkeys, I guess.”

By now, they’d almost reached the end of the street. Peter stopped in front of an old evacuation sign, eyebrows furrowed.

“Where’d they evacuate to?”

“Where do you think? Quarantine zones.” Tony continued walking. He was no stranger to those signs. “Some towns were lucky enough to get a warning before the infection showed up. Most didn’t.”

“That must be hard, leaving all your stuff behind like that.”

Tony could have laughed at the absurdity of the statement.

“That’s not the hard part.”

Seeing Pepper with that glass shard lodged in her skull had been the hard part. Morgan, bleeding out on the ground, unable to be saved was the hard part.

Walking away from his family had been the hard part.

To Tony’s relief, Peter didn’t press any further. They made it to the end of the street, which was blocked off by a massive blockade made with barbed wire fencing, old crates, a truck and a few cars. A large sign that read YOU WILL BE SHOT was written in white spray paint on a wooden sign, definitely Clint’s handiwork. As they got closer to where the man resided, the traps would start to show up.

In Natasha’s words, Clint’s traps were delightfully creative.

Tony forced the image of Natasha’s body out of his mind and turned to Peter.

“This is definitely the work of Clint.”

“Does anybody else live in this town?” Peter asked as he looked up at the fence. “How are we going to climb over that?”

“There used to be, but now I’m not so sure.” The note Peter had found in the subway was burned into Tony’s brain. Natasha had always said Clint lived with his partner, and that his name was Bucky. Tony never met the man in person, but he knew he meant a great deal to Clint. “And no, can you read? We’re going around. Clint will shoot us, that warning isn’t a bluff.”

“But you said he was your friend?”

“Maybe, but he’s… protective.”

Peter huffed a little at that, but didn’t protest when Tony started to lead them down a side alleyway. Before they could get too far, however, a clicker tore around the corner of the alley and hurtled towards them.

Before Tony could pull out his gun, the clicker exploded.

Well, it looks like they’d run into the first of many traps.

“Holy shit!” Peter gasped, eyes wide as they watched the blood and body parts explode all over the ground and the alley walls. “What the hell was that?”

“One of Clint’s traps.” Tony edged his way forward, gun raised in case another infected was attracted to the sound. “Make sure you watch your step.”

“Your friend a bit paranoid?”

“Now that’s putting it lightly.”

“What’s the deal with this guy?” Peter trailed behind him, intently watching Tony’s feet. “What if we blow up trying to find him?”

“Just step where I do and you’ll be fine.” Tony grumbled, internally cursing Clint when he spotted another wire strung up between the entrance to another alleyway. He held out an arm in front of Peter to get him to stop. “You see that? That’s what you look out for. Wires.”

“This dude is insane.”

“He’s good at finding things, which is why we need him. He’ll get us that car.”

Tony and Peter continued moving forwards down behind the buildings instead of through the alleyway. If the street was anything like the first, it was likely to be blocked off. Up ahead, Tony could see a ladder on the ground, where it had obviously been propped up against the truck. It seemed like Clint used this route often.

Just before the ladder was a fresh body of an infected. Two arrows stuck out of the flesh on its chest, perfectly centred to pierce its heart.

From what Tony knew about Clint, the man was an archer before the outbreak. A good one, at that.

Once Tony had the ladder propped against the back of the truck, the two of them climbed on top and made their way across a plank from the truck to the next roof.

Behind him, Peter let out an exclamation of glee.

“Woah, look at this!” Tony turned around, only to see a bow in the kid’s hands. “Can I keep it?”

“No. Give it to me.”

“Seriously? I’m a pretty good shot with this thing, you know. You already have that rifle and the crowbar! You can’t carry that many weapons. The only thing I have is my knife! What if something happens?”

As much as he didn’t like the idea of Peter having a weapon, he was right.

Feeling much like his old, fatherly self that gave into Morgan the second her puppy eyes came out, Tony’s lips pursed in a thin line.

Peter had puppy eyes that could rival his late daughter’s.

“Only for emergencies.”

“Sick!” Peter rushed to pick up the stray arrows Clint had left behind and put them in his backpack the same way Tony had. He pulled the bow over his shoulder, grinning from ear to ear as he crossed the plank to reach Tony. “We can cover each other now.”

“Only for emergencies, kid.”

“I know, I know.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Still cool, though.”

Tony wished he could share the same excitement.

Clint sure didn’t like to make things easy. It took a bit of manoeuvring, but with Peter’s help, they managed to get the plank up to the next roof to lay it between another gap that was too large to jump across. When they reached the other side, faint clicking made its way to Tony’s ears. Annoyance flowed through him as he made his way towards the sound.

On a lower roof stood another lone clicker.

“Can I do it?” Peter whispered, practically bouncing on the heels of his feet. The clicker’s head snapped in their direction with a screech, but other than that, it didn’t move. Compared to most other clickers, this one was shorter. It likely used to be a teenager. “This looks like an emergency to me.”

“Don’t waste your arrows.”

Peter fist pumped before he yanked the bow off his shoulder and grabbed an arrow.

Peter took a few seconds to aim, his tongue sticking out with concentration, before he released the arrow. In one swift motion, the arrow hit its target in the head, and the clicker went down without a sound. Peter turned to Tony and raised his hand for a high five.

Very, very deep down, Tony was impressed. He’d expected the kid to miss.

Instead of showing how he really felt, Tony rolled his eyes and jumped down onto the lower roof.

Much to his delight, Peter grumbled about being left hanging.

They trekked across a few more roofs before an old fire escape ladder came into view. Before Tony reached the ground, he spotted another wire strung up at the entrance to the alleyway. As Peter made his way down the ladder above him, he grabbed an old soda can and took a few steps back.

“Step back, kid.”

Once Peter did as he was told, he threw the can at the wire. It exploded immediately upon contact, and once Tony’s ears stopped ringing, he heard a faint bang in the house that connected to the alleyway. A few seconds later, it happened again, louder this time. There was at least one infected inside the house, desperate to get out and investigate the explosion.

Tony decided to steer clear and head towards an open gate instead.

Predictably, there was another wire strung up and waiting to be tripped.

Tony picked up the first thing he found, a brick, and tossed it at the wire.

When he turned around, he sighed when he saw Peter with his own brick in his hand, ready to throw. He decided not to comment, and instead made his way through the gate and down the side of a building with the words YOU WILL BE SHOT ON SIGHT written on the side with the same white spray paint and jagged handwriting.

Just at the end of the building, Tony spotted another tripwire. This one was at ankle level and far harder to see.

“Tripwire.” Tony stopped Peter, who would have just continued walking and got himself blown up. “Alright, kid. Toss it.”

Peter threw his brick, then raised his hand for a high five again once the wire had exploded.

Tony ignored him and moved on. The end of the street was blocked off, so their only choice was to head inside the building with the threatening message written on its wall. There were several other warnings written all over the walls, some fading away, some new. Clint had really gone overboard with the threats.

“Now, listen. Clint isn’t exactly the most… stable of individuals. When we get there, you let me do the talking.” Tony said as he opened the door with a grunt. They entered a trashed office, papers strewn across the floor and the desk. On the desk, he could see they were dated the day of the outbreak. “He doesn’t take too kindly to strangers. He’s a good guy, but he’ll just need time to warm up to you. That’s all. You understand?”

“Sure. I understand.”

When Tony opened the door that connected the office and the main storeroom, he heard a click, then the sound of a rope being tugged.

Tony spotted the fridge quickly lowering to the ground in front of him far too late. The rope it was connected to snapped around his ankle and yanked him clean off his feet, then dragged him across the floor until he was hoisted in the air with a painful jolt. The back of his head pounded where it had smacked against the floor, his body swinging around upside down as Peter let out a panicked string of curses behind him.

“Goddamnit, Clint!” Tony yelled as he tried to reach up to his ankle, but there was no use. He was stuck. “You and your fucking traps!”

“I got you!” Peter exclaimed as he grabbed onto Tony’s forearms to stop him from swinging. “What do I do?”

Tony swore again as he looked around. The fridge that had pulled him into the air was definitely the counterweight, the thing perched on top of a wooden table, the rope wrapped tight around it. He told the kid as much, and all he could do was watch as Peter raced over and climbed on top of the table, switchblade out and ready.

When the kid started to hack at the rope, Tony heard the dreaded sounds of infected approaching.

Peter had climbed fully on top of the fridge, his panicked eyes flicking between Tony and the crowd of infected that started to pound against the wire fence outside. One had already made the jump and barrelled through the warehouse’s wide open doors.

It was headed straight for Tony.

He pulled his gun from his pocket, thankful that it hadn’t fallen out when he got launched upside down and aimed it at the runner. He missed twice before the bullet hit the infected in the head, the body falling as more infected threw themselves over the fence.

Peter yanked on the fridge until the table leg snapped. Tony fired at another runner as he watched the fridge topple sideways with Peter on top, then land with a deafening crash that would alert every infected in the nearby radius. When the fridge fell, Tony was launched even higher into the air and further away from the kid.

Peter let out a cry of pain when his body slammed onto the ground. Panic coursed through Tony’s body at the thought that the kid had just killed himself trying to save him.

“Peter? You alright?”

“Y-yeah!” Peter wheezed, and Tony could see him get to his feet and return to his desperate attempts to cut him free. The internal panic didn’t subside as he watched helplessly, suspended a good few feet above the floor. “Come on, cut you fucking rope! Fuck!”

“Hurry!” Tony yelled as a clicker ran into the room, arms flailing. “Hey, over here!”

While the clicker’s attention was brought to Tony, the runner’s wasn’t. The runner went straight for Peter and crashed into him, the boy barely able to stand under the weight of the frantic infected. Tony managed to down the clicker quick enough to aim his gun at the runner’s head, which was far to close to Peter’s for his liking. Thankfully, he made the shot, the kid only pausing for a second before he got up to cut the rope.

“Come on!”

Finally, the rope snapped and Tony crashed to the ground with a painful thud. There was no time to stand up when a runner latched onto him and sent him straight back to the floor, growling and snarling in his face as it tried to bite any skin it could reach.

Before anything of the sort could happen, an arrow whizzed through the air and lodged itself in the infected’s head. Tony shoved the limp body off him with a grunt, the entire room filled with noise of infected as he took the hand that was extended in front of his face.

Tony didn’t have to look at the man to know who it was. He had a gas mask concealing his face, but the bow and arrow was enough.

“Get off your ass and on your feet!”

Clint yanked Tony to his feet, Peter hovering by his side, face covered in blood.

Tony’s stomach twisted at the sight. He was no stranger to blood, but it looked wrong on a kid as young as Peter.

There was no time to check if the kid had any injuries. The horde of infected was closing in fast, and all he could do was grab the kid’s wrist when Clint’s yell echoed around the room.

“Run!”

-

The minute Clint slammed the door shut behind them, Tony almost collapsed where he stood.

His entire body ached as he heaved in deep, painful breaths. Infected pounded on the door, screaming and snarling, desperate to get to them. However, after a few minutes, they started to lose interest and the noise quietened down as they ambled away.

Without the deafening sounds of infected, wheezing made its way into Tony’s ears.

The kid.

Tony immediately gathered himself and straightened up. He ignored the pain in his lower back and looked around for the kid, who was hunched over with one hand on his knee and the other on his chest. Clint was in the middle of taking his mask off, his face pinched with anger as he looked between Tony and Peter. Before he could try placate the man, Clint whipped out a pair of handcuffs that had been hooked to his belt and headed straight for Peter.

“W-what the f-fuck, man?” Peter choked out when Clint grabbed his wrist, attached one side of the handcuffs to it before he attached the other to a metal pipe. Peter immediately started to struggle, though his efforts were too weak to get anywhere. “Let me g-go!”

In the blink of an eye, a gun was pointed in Tony’s face.

“Turn around and get on your knees!”

“Clint, just calm down a second-”

“I said turn around and get on your fucking knees!”

Tony gave in and turned around, but before he could even bend his fucking knees, Clint kicked his left leg out from under him. Tony collapsed with a thud, his already aching body just becoming more painful as he let out a disgruntled sigh. Behind him, Peter had started to struggle again, but the more he moved the more choked his breaths sounded.

“You got any bites?” Clint snapped as he checked Tony over, his movements gruff. “Anything sprouting?”

“I’m clean, would you get the fuck off of me?”

“If I see as much as a twitch-”

“I said I’m clean, for fuck’s-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Clint let out a growl of pain when Peter bashed him on the arm with the same metal pipe Clint had handcuffed him to. He’d managed to get it detached from the wall, even though he could barely breathe. Tony quickly got to his feet and grabbed the pipe before Peter could hit Clint again and make the situation even worse than it already was.

The boy didn’t resist, the fight apparently leaving him all at once.

Peter took his backpack off and immediately dropped to his knees to rifle through it, only for Clint to point his gun at him again. Tony automatically stood in front of the kid, hands raised in a placating gesture, even when his own anger made him want to be the one to beat Clint with a metal pipe.

“Are you done?” Tony growled.

“Am I done? Am I- you come into my house, set off all my traps, kid nearly breaks my shooting arm-” Clint didn’t take his eyes off Peter, who let out a pained, wheezy whine. “What the hell does that kid think he’s doing?”

“F-fuck you!” Peter coughed, and when Tony turned to look at the kid, his hands were shaking so much that he could hardly look through his backpack. Whether that was the lack of air, or the fear from what had just happened, Tony had no idea. “I- I can’t-”

Tony immediately turned his whole body around, ignoring Clint’s angry protests behind him as he grabbed the kid’s backpack from him. Ignoring its other contents, Tony dug around for the inhaler, his own hands trembling just slightly. After what felt like far too long, he found it at the very bottom under a book.

He tossed the backpack aside and grabbed Peter’s shaking hand to press the inhaler to it. When it became clear he wouldn’t be able to do it on his own, Tony grabbed the kid’s hand again and forced the inhaler up to his mouth and pressed down.

Within a few seconds, Peter’s breathing started to return to normal and the panic in the air subsided. The kid was looking at him, eyes filled with fear and shining with tears.

It was then when Tony realised how close he’d been to losing the kid several times just in the last hour.

He couldn’t fail Natasha.

“Thanks.” Peter rubbed his chest with a wince. “That was scary.”

“Stark.” Clint snapped. “Who the fuck is this punk and what’s he doing here?”

“I am none of your-” Peter coughed, then thrust out his wrist that still had the handcuffs attached to it and shook it in Clint’s face. “-goddamn business! We’re here because you owe Tony some favours, so you can start by taking these off!”

Clint laughed, but it was completely void of humour.

“I owe Tony some favours.” The man mocked as he watched Tony and Peter get to their feet. “Please.”

“Let me just cut to the chase, Legolas.” Clint opened his mouth to argue, but Tony cut him off before he could. “We need a car.”

“Oh, what do you know? This is a joke. Tony Stark needs a car.” Another bark of unamused laughter. “If I had one that works, which I don’t, what makes you think I’ll just give it to you? Yeah, sure, Tony, go ahead. Take my fucking car, take all my food while you’re at it!”

Before Peter could come up with some smartass response, Tony gave him a warning glare. The kid huffed, but continued to zip up his backpack while muttering obscenities under his breath, most of them degrading Clint. Luckily for them, the man didn’t hear the insults, and continued to sharpen his arrows.

“Whatever favours you think I owe you, I’m telling you now, they ain’t worth that much.”

“Actually, Clint, they are.”

Peter shifted from foot to foot beside him as he put his backpack back on, basically bristling with anger. Tony hadn’t seen the kid this angry since he’d met him, which was saying something. Clint seemed to have that effect on people.

“Well, it doesn’t matter, I don’t have a car that works.”

“But there’s one in this town.”

“There are parts in this town. Parts!”

“So that means you can fix one up.”

Clint stared at him a long time, an internal battle happening behind his eyes. Then, with a sigh that told Tony that the archer had given in, he groaned and turned to the map he’d spread across the table.

“Fine. If I’m gonna do this, I’m gonna need gear.” Clint pointed to a red square marked on the map of the town. “That’s on the other side of town. You help me get it, and maybe I can put something together that runs.”

Clint reached into his pocket and pulled out a small set of keys. He slapped them on the table, eyebrows furrowed as he glared daggers at Tony.

“But after this, no more fucking favours.”

Tony grabbed the keys and turned to Peter. The kid was already holding his wrist up.

“That’s fine.” Tony said as he unlocked the handcuff. He tossed the handcuffs aside and just looked at Peter for a moment, still unsettled by the blood all over his face and clothes. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be any injuries on his face, or anywhere else that was visible. His sleeve was still pulled over the bites, thankfully. “We’ll probably be dead in a few days anyways.”

“Oh, brilliant.” Clint actually sounded happy at that as he walked away from the pair. “Well, it makes sense. You managed to get yourself stuck with an an asthmatic kid which is a death wish in itself. But, that’s not my problem. Anyways, the whole town is booby trapped, so it’s best to stay on my ass.”

Despite himself, Tony winced slightly at the comment. He glanced at Peter, who stared Clint down with a fierce glare, the hurt written all over his face.

Tony didn’t have to assume that Peter had heard similar things his entire life. No one wanted to travel with people with a compromised immune system, disabilities, pregnant or old. It was always considered a burden, and often, those people were left to die alone.

Clint’s words probably fuelled Peter’s response as the kid looked the archer up and down with distaste, then let out a snort.

“Can’t miss it.”

“Hey, knock it off.” Tony grabbed Peter by the upper arm and urged him forwards.

Clint side-eyed the kid, his expression filled with distrust.

“Like I said, what I need is on the other side of town in one of my safe houses. I don’t ever go to that side of town because it’s filled with infected, so we’re gonna need more guns.”

All Peter did was huff.

Now that there wasn’t the threat of imminent danger, Tony took a moment to look around the building Clint had brought them to.

It was clearly an old diner, one that Clint frequented. The bar was covered in supplies, such as arrows, bandages, and two molotovs. Tony didn’t waste any time and snatched the molotovs off the bar, even when the kid whined at him that he never wanted to smell burning flesh ever again. When Tony ignored him, Peter just rolled his eyes and grabbed a few bandages to put in his own backpack.

When Tony spotted an old rag that looked clean enough, he picked it up and tossed it in Peter’s direction. To his slight amusement, the rag hit the kid square in the face, who let out a yelp and slapped it onto the floor.

“What the hell was that for?”

“Clean your face.” Tony said without looking.

“Oh…” Peter trailed off. “Oh. Ew.”

As Peter cleaned his face, Tony debated with himself what to do with the revolver he’d picked up. There wouldn’t much ammo for the thing out and around, not as much as the other guns he owned. All it would do is make his backpack heavier.

After a few seconds debate, he ended up leaving the weapon behind.

“Don’t you even think about touching a piece on that board!” Clint suddenly growled at Peter, who had gone to move a chess piece on a chessboard that sat on one of the booths. It was in remarkably good condition, which meant it had to be one of Clint’s prized possessions. “Matter of fact, don’t touch anything else in here.”

Peter made a face and threw up his hands in indignation. Then, he looked to Tony.

His face was much cleaner than it had been moments ago, but there were still smudges of blood on his cheeks. Something within him, the paternal instinct that hadn’t been there since Morgan died, told him to grab the rag and wipe it off for him.

He did nothing of the sort and listened to Peter’s question instead.

“Do you know how to play chess?”

“Yeah. Badly.” Tony huffed a little. “Haven’t seen one of these in twenty years. One that’s in good condition, at least.”

Neither he or Pepper liked chess. Jarvis had, though.

Even though Tony hated chess and Jarvis always beat him no matter what strategy he tried, he always liked playing with his uncle. It helped him get away from Howard, and it helped take his mind off all the shit that went on in his childhood.

He missed Jarvis.

“I’ve never played.”

“It’s boring as shit, kid. You’d hate it.”

“Hmm.” Peter hummed. “I bet I’d be better than you.”

“What the fuck are you two doing over there?” Clint interrupted from where he was waiting by the door, arms crossed, impatient. Tony was used to this kind of behaviour from the man, but Peter’s presence obviously heightened Clint’s paranoia. “I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

“Ugh.” Peter grumbled. “Your friend kinda sucks.”

“Hey!” Clint snapped. “I heard that, you little shit!”

“Good!”

“Kid.” Tony snapped. “What did I say before?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Peter crossed his arms. “I’m just being honest.”

“Stark!” Clint barked. “Get a move on.”

“We’re coming, Jesus.”

Tony moved past Peter and towards the door, frustration clinging to him as he met Clint’s angry eyes. If Natasha was here, she’d be able to get through to him instantly.

If Natasha was here, they wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.

Tony held the door open for Peter while Clint stormed up the stairs, rattling off that they were going to cross to another building. Peter opened his mouth for what was probably going to be another comment, but Tony’s warning glare made him roll his eyes and close his mouth.

As they made their way through the apartments on top of the diner, Clint started to ask questions that Tony didn’t want to answer.

“So, what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time? Where the hell’s Nat?”

Peter’s head snapped to look at Tony like he’d been punched. Tony tried not to let the agony show on his face, Natasha’s terrified eyes haunting his mind as he lied.

“It’s just a job. A simple drop off.”

“Well, what are you delivering? Seems weird for Nat not to be here.”

“Well…” Tony trailed. “It’s complicated.”

“No way. You’re delivering that little brat? Ha!”

“Fuck you too, dude.”

Clint just laughed at Peter, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent rooms. Clint led them down a stairwell, and into another shop, only for the sound of an infected to break the silence. Tony stopped, alert, his hand on his gun as he watched Clint surge on forward like he hadn’t heard a thing.

Wisely, Peter stepped behind Tony and kept his mouth shut.

“Relax, it’s nothing.” Clint said as he disappeared through the only doorway that wasn’t boarded off. “I’ve been meaning to take care of this.”

Tony hesitantly followed the archer into the other room, only to see that he was telling the truth.

There was an infected trapped in a closed window. It snapped and snarled at Clint as he readied his bow, his hands steady as he started talking.

“You never answered my question about Nat.” Clint released the arrow, which whizzed through the air and pierced through the infected’s skull. The body went still without a sound, its blood dripping down the wall, both from its waist and head. “You know, I thought you two were inseparable. I hardly believe she would let you come out here on your own with some brat.”

Tony looked away from the infected, which looked like it used to be a woman once, and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

“She’s busy.”

“Busy, huh?” Clint made his way over to the front door and pulled out a set of keys. “That sounds like trouble in paradise to me.”

“Something like that.”

Peter gave him a look, but Tony ignored him and stepped through the door when Clint opened it for him. He could practically feel the tension in the air as Peter followed close behind, no doubt glaring daggers at Clint as he moved past the man.

Clint led the way through a sea of abandoned cars, some with skeletons still sitting inside. Peter stopped beside one beaten car, body rigid, and Tony felt sick at the sight he saw.

It was a family. Two adults, two children.

One of the children was clearly very young, if the rotten car seat was to show for anything. It was obvious they’d been here since the very night the outbreak happened, unable to get out, or most likely died instantly from impact. A car crash had killed them, their car bent and smashed horribly, the other on its roof a few feet away. Tony could see the remains of the other driver too, bones of what used to be their arm half out of the smashed window.

Tony couldn’t help but wonder if that was the easy way out. For the whole family to die in a crash, none of them having to grieve the other in the aftermath. Dying from a crash instead of getting infected, instead of living in the world ridden with disease.

“Don’t look at that, kiddo.” Tony could barely think as he steered Peter away from the sight.

“There was a baby…” Peter trailed. “Do you think they suffered?”

“Keep moving.”

Peter tried to look back at the family’s car, but Tony tightened his grip on the boy’s shoulder.

Ahead, Clint didn’t look back, but Tony knew he’d seen the family too.

Much like Natasha, he didn’t know much about Clint’s life before the outbreak. All he knew was that he was an archer, and that he once had a family, had kids, who’d died either during or after outbreak day.

As different as they were, their pasts weren’t all that different.

Clint found Bucky and Tony found Natasha.

Still, that didn’t bring back the men they used to be.

“So.” Peter interrupted the silence that had blanketed over the trio. “Why don’t you fix up one of these cars? There’s like, hundreds here.”

Oh, this kid and his naivety.

“Oh, yeah, why don’t I fix up one of these cars! It’s not like they’ve been sitting here for twenty fucking years.” Tony saw the moment Peter’s heckles raised at Clint’s taunting. “Kid, you’re a genius! Why didn’t I think about that sooner? Let me go-”

“Do you have to be such a dick about it? It was just a question.”

“Their tires are rotted and their batteries are dead. I don’t even want to imagine what the inside of those engine blocks look like. The only ones that make new car batteries are the military.” Clint replied. “Since you’re so full of bright ideas, why don’t you go fix yourself a battery? You think you’re pretty smart, huh, kid?”

“Are you done?”

“Fucking kids born after the outbreak.” Clint muttered to himself. “Clueless, can’t do a thing for themselves. Jesus, they don’t even know how to talk to people anymore.”

“Hey, Hawkeye.” Tony snapped. “Safe house. Where is it?”

Peter let out a snort at that. “Hawkeye?”

“Never call me that.” Clint snapped. “Just up ahead. Gotta be careful, this area is usually overrun with infected.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t heard you and all your gloating. I think a clicker would be more interested in what you have to say.” Peter sneered. “Hawkeye.”

“You little-”

“Safe house, birdbrain.”

Peter outright laughed at that one. Tony didn’t share the same amusement, and neither did Clint, but the man trudged along nonetheless. They made there way through another street blocked with cars and overgrown plant life, the silence eerie. Tony found the silence strange and was almost waiting for the other shoe to drop. As much as Clint clearly loved to rile up Peter, he wasn’t lying about the infected. He knew this town better than anyone.

Knowing all this, he shouldn’t have been surprised when there was a loud clang in a nearby bookstore the second they came into range. All at once, infected started to spill out of the building, tripping over each other in their haste to reach them. Clint immediately started to fire off arrows, almost all of them hitting their targets.

Tony shoved Peter, too inexperienced to react quick enough, behind a taxi and grabbed the hunting rifle. A clicker was headed straight for him, but before it could get too close, Tony pulled the trigger. He missed, but the sound was enough to startle the thing for a moment, and gave him another opportunity to hit it.

Before he could, however, Clint screamed at him to take cover.

The mass of infected was growing, far too many for them to take out on their own. Tony recognised what the man was about to do and joined the kid behind the taxi, anticipation thrumming through his veins as he waited for the loud boom of the explosive arrow.

It came a few seconds after, along with the sudden heat from the explosion. Tony heard the sound of body parts and blood as they rained on the ground, a few infected still screeching as they scrambled from the sound. Tony stuck his head over the taxi then, rifle aimed at the nearest infected, which was now missing an arm and half its face. There was no use wasting a bullet on it when it was already almost dead.

Predictably, the runner started to slow, and eventually fell face first onto the ground.

There were two more infected left. One clicker, and one runner that was on its way to becoming a stalker. Clint took out one with an arrow while Tony shot the other.

Once the area was silent again, Clint started angrily talking to himself as he walked around the mess salvaging the arrows that were still intact. He was talking too quickly and too quietly for Tony to understand what he was saying, so he decided not to bother. Clint was a loose canon in itself, there was no use making him any angrier.

The mess Clint’s arrow had made was gruesome. Peter went dangerously pale at the sight, a similar look he’d had after the clickers in the subway station in Boston.

“The safe house is just up here.” Clint gestured to a metal gate up the end of the street. “Wasted one of my good fucking arrows on this. This is why I never come to this side of town. Ignored one infected, then it got to this.”

Tony decided not to add fuel to the fire. They followed Clint towards the gate, away from the bloody mess, and stood by while the man brought out another key to unlock it.

“You sure that’s going to hold them?” Tony asked after they stepped through, very aware of the rusty metal Clint had just locked behind them.

“It’s locked. Infected don’t have any keys, do they?”

With a roll of the eyes, Clint started up a large flight of stairs. The exhaustion was really starting to catch up with Tony now, his muscles aching in all sorts of places as he dragged his body up the staircase. Peter seemed to be in a similar state, the bags under his eyes having darkened considerably since they left the quarantine zone. They hadn’t eaten for hours.

The last time Tony had slept was before they escaped the quarantine zone, and that had only been a few hours. When the last time the kid slept, however, was a complete mystery to him.

Clint led them to a large house that looked like it was on its last legs, all the way to a cellar entrance. The archer threw the doors open and descended without looking back.

“Here we are.” Clint grunted, then turned back and jabbed a finger at Peter. “You don’t touch a single thing. Tony, shut the door.”

“Sure, Hawkeye.” Peter’s voice was incredibly quiet, but still audible.

Clint’s eyes lit up with fury, but he surprisingly held his tongue.

“Let’s gear up.” He said instead as he turned on a gas lamp. “Tony, over here.”

“We need to rest.” Tony wanted to do the opposite. He wanted to get this kid to Rhodey and forget all this ever happened. Maybe track down some whiskey, drink himself into an oblivion. Anything to stop the attachment that he knew was forming towards Peter. Peter, pale and dead on his feet, blood still staining his skin. Peter, immune. “A few hours at most.”

Natasha wouldn’t be around to reign in his urges. Once Peter was gone, he’d be alone.

“Rest?” Clint barked. “Rest? You really think we have time for rest?”

“A few hours at most.” Tony repeated. “Then we’ll get out of your town once we get that damn car.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Tony!” Clint tore off his bow and slammed it on the workbench. He did the same with his arrows, his hand hovering over his gun that was still holstered. “You want to rest, after all that shit? We’re getting these parts now. I don’t trust this little shit anywhere near my stuff.”

“He’ll stay right by me. Won’t you, Peter?”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “Duh. I don’t like him.”

“I can’t believe I’m allowing this.” Clint turned away from them. “Rest, then. Do whatever the fuck you want.”

Tony removed his backpack with a sigh and practically collapsed against the wall of the cellar. He grabbed his small sleeve of rations, the taste just as unpleasant as always as he chewed on a small piece. Peter dropped down beside him, his backpack also off, and pulled his knees to his chest after he spent a considerable amount of time staring at that weird red pin attached to his backpack.

After a moment’s hesitation, he sighed and tossed the rations sleeve towards Peter.

While Clint was busy talking to himself in the corner and Peter was eating, Tony shut his eyes.

Morgan, Pepper and Natasha stared back at him.

His throat closed in with the threat of tears, but he held it all back as he heard Peter shuffling beside him. When he opened his eyes, he saw that the teen had laid down with his head on top of his backpack as a pillow, eyes already drifting shut. He faced towards the wall, obviously trusting Tony and Clint enough not to kill him in his sleep. One hand was rested on top of that same pin, a distant look in the kid’s tired eyes.

The curiosity that swelled within him was almost overwhelming. He hardly knew this kid, yet he was starting to care.

Tony shouldn’t want to know why that stupid pin was important to some random kid.

When Peter’s eyes eventually slipped shut and his shoulders loosened, Tony looked away. At least the kid could get some rest.

As he looked away, he felt like someone was watching him. Immediately, his gaze snapped to Clint, who watched the two of them with an almost disgusted look.

“This goes on record for the worst fucking job you’ve ever taken.”

Tony glanced to Peter again, who didn’t react to Clint’s jabbing words. Definitely asleep.

“It’s up there.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. How is Nat okay with this suicide mission?”

“It was actually her idea.”

Clint scoffed at that, disbelieving.

“Sure. I doubt Nat would ever have an idea like this.” The arched turned away from him. “Get that fucking rest you were harping on about before I change my mind about this damn car.”

“Whatever, Legolas.”

“Stark.”

Tony barely had it in him to huff out a laugh. Instead, he crossed his arms and leant his head back against the wall. It was uncomfortable, but he’d had worse.

With one last look at Peter, who hadn’t moved an inch since he’d drifted off, Tony closed his eyes and let the exhaustion drag him away into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

“Tony?”

“Hm?” Tony blinked as he felt someone shift beside him. There was also a weight in his arms that shifted just slightly, a little hand wrapped around his index finger. “Pep?”

“Yeah, just me.” Pepper whispered and kissed his cheek, then the baby’s cheek. “You fell asleep.”

“Did I?” Tony yawned as he glanced to the TV. The credits to Morgan’s favourite movie were playing, his daughter in question conked out on Tony’s other side. Her head rested on his thigh, one of her hands clenched around a chunk of Tony’s sweatpants. “Did she mind?”

“No, she fell asleep straight after. I was the only one left watching the movie.” Pepper’s eyes were shining with love as she pressed a kiss to Tony’s lips. “You were muttering in your sleep. I thought you might be having a nightmare again.”

“If I was, I don’t remember it.” Tony shifted so he was sitting up straighter, then pulled his son closer to his chest. The baby was sleeping soundly, pacifier bobbing in his mouth. Peaceful. “That doesn’t matter now.”

“I’ll take him.” Pepper gently took the baby from Tony’s arms. “You take Morgan.”

Together, they fell into the usual routine. Tony scooped his daughter into his arms and brought her to her room. Once Morgan was tucked in with her favourite stuffed animal, Tony kissed her forehead and silently slipped out of the room.

As he stepped out of Morgan’s room, Tony almost slipped on something wet that coated the floor.

Still gripping the door frame, Tony looked down to see what he’d slipped on. It definitely hadn’t been there when he brought Morgan in.

His stomach jolted at the large puddle of blood. It trailed all the way from his and Pepper’s room to Morgan’s, and without a moment’s hesitation, Tony whirled around and almost hurled himself back into Morgan’s room.

Morgan was still in bed, however, she wasn’t peacefully asleep like he’d left her just seconds ago. The room was a mess, blankets and toys strewn around, blood all over the floor and on the bed. In the middle of it all was his baby girl, eyes wide and unseeing, her hands still rested on top of the gunshot wound.

In the other room, Tony heard a scream, then a wail.

“Tony!”

Pepper was calling for him while the baby he couldn’t remember the name of screamed.

“Tony!”

Tony couldn’t move.

“Tony, for fuck’s sake!”

Something grabbed his shoulder.

Tony jolted, his gun already in his hand and cocked in the intruder’s direction.

Clint stood above him, hands raised as well as his eyebrows. Tony’s heart pounded in his ears, his stomach churning with the urge to be sick as he came back to reality. He snapped his head in the direction of where he’d last seen the kid, almost expecting him to be in a similar state to Morgan.

Instead, Peter was still curled up in the same spot as before, asleep. He didn’t look as peaceful as he had before, his arms curled around his middle as if he were giving himself a hug, eyebrows furrowed in discomfort. Sometime during when they were asleep, Peter must have moved closer, because his feet were now pressed against Tony’s leg.

“Jesus fucking christ.” Clint walked away from Tony like there wasn’t still a gun pointed at him. “Put the damn gun down, it’s just me.”

Tony couldn’t say anything even if he tried. It was like a vice had clamped on his throat, the panic still fresh as he kept his eyes on Peter.

“You’ve been asleep the whole fucking night. I can’t believe you’ve gotten me to waste this much time listening to you talk in your sleep.” Clint slumped down at his workbench, which had considerably more things on it than it had when they arrived. It looked like the man had been busy making more arrows while they slept. “The kid woke up once, looked pretty spooked. I didn’t think I’d ever see someone so relieved at your company, Stark. Little shit fell right back asleep the second he laid eyes on you.”

Tony’s heart skipped a beat at Clint’s words, unable to place the feeling as he watched Clint shove a few arrows into his quiver. A few of them were modified, the explosive arrows easily recognisable among the others.

It was abundantly clear that Peter already trusted him, even in the limited time they’d travelled together. Realising this only made Tony feel dread.

The last time a child had been in his care, the last time his child trusted him…

Morgan’s lifeless eyes were all he could see.

He couldn’t get attached.

The archer continued to talk on, not caring for Tony’s input.

“Seriously, you gotta take him back to wherever he came from.” Clint sharpened one of the arrows before he put it in the quiver with the rest. “An asthmatic teenager. I’m surprised he’s even made it to his teenage years. Even the slowest of infected could chase him down.”

Tony rubbed his thumb over his watch as he came back to himself, hardened exterior already sliding back into place. His hand then moved to rub his chest where his heart continued to pound against his ribcage, flashes of his dream appearing in his vision every time he blinked.

He didn’t tell Clint how the kid was surprisingly fast, asthma aside.

He didn’t say anything.

“Let that kid go, let him find his own way.” Clint shoved his final arrow into the quiver and began to pack up his supplies. “Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, I had someone I cared for… someone I had to look after. You know what that’s good for? Getting you killed. So you know what I did? I wisened the fuck up and realised it just has to be me.”

Bucky. The note Peter found.

Wisely, Tony didn’t ask, nor did he mention the note.

“You keep babysitting long enough and eventually it’s going to blow up in your face.”

Tony turned back to Peter, who continued to sleep on, blissfully unaware of Clint’s rant.

“Alright. Enough chit chat.” Clint made his way over to a shelving unit and snatched something off the shelf. He stormed over to Tony and dropped a pump shotgun into his lap, then extended his hand. “The rifle.”

Tony, too exhausted to complain, handed the hunting rifle over.

“I have something to show you, started putting a few together last night.” Clint hooked the rifle onto his backpack as he spoke, the furrow between his brows never easing. “Get up off your ass and follow me.”

He thought about waking Peter up, but decided to at least give the kid a few more minutes. Tony got off the floor and followed Clint throughout the cellar to another workbench. On top sat three small cans, closed off at the top with nails sticking out.

Nail bombs.

“You gotta be really careful with these, they’ll shred anybody standing nearby.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen your handiwork.” Tony muttered as he picked up one of the bombs. “So, arrows and bombs. What are we doing with them?”

“Well, every few weeks this military caravan rides through town. I assume they’re looking out for supplies. You’d be amazed by the shit that they overlook.” Tony stowed away the nail bombs as he spoke, his backpack becoming increasingly heavy. “A few months back, they were rolling through and got overwhelmed by a horde of infected. You should’ve seen the fucking mess that it was. I should have kicked back and watched the fucker’s get what they deserve.”

Tony placed the last bomb in his backpack and zipped it up as he listened.

“They were all over the truck, and before you know it, the thing plows into the side of the high school, still sitting there with a battery in it.”

“So we take that battery and put it in another car?”

“Bingo!” Clint said. “I wanted to get it, but it’s too dangerous with all the infected in that part of town. But fuck it, Stark needs a car!”

“What if it’s damaged?”

“Nah. Those trucks are like tanks, it’s just sitting there.” Clint started to walk away from him, his back to Tony as he swiped a few supplies off shelves and tucked them into his pockets. “Go wake up the kid. We’re getting this shit over with. The sooner I get rid of you, the happier I’ll be.”

Tony sighed and pulled his backpack over his shoulders. None of the pain had eased, but like always, he forced himself not to think about it as he made his way back to where he’d left Peter.

The kid was still fast asleep, and Tony almost felt bad that he had to wake him up.

Tony kneeled down despite the way his knees protested and rested a hand on Peter’s shoulder. He jostled the kid a little, which immediately made the crease between Peter’s eyebrows deepen.

“Kid, it’s time to get up.” Tony shook Peter again, this time a little rougher. “Peter.”

In one fluid motion, Peter’s body jolted and his eyes snapped open. All Tony could do was keep still, hand still outstretched to the teenager, who now had his switchblade pointed at his throat.

Tony easily could have snatched the weapon out of Peter’s weak grip, but he didn’t.

It took a few seconds for recognition to appear on the kid’s face, and not even a second later, he lowered the switchblade.

“Sorry.” Peter closed the knife and adverted his eyes. His usual energy was nowhere to be seen, a certain exhaustion clinging to his expression as he pulled his backpack over his shoulders. It was more than likely it was because he’d just woken up, but Tony could tell there was something else bothering the kid. Nightmare, maybe. “I thought you were an infected or something.”

Tony shouldn’t want to know what was wrong.

Asking meant he cared.

Asking meant getting attached.

“It’s time to get going.” He said instead as Peter pulled the bow over his shoulder next. “Better hurry before Hawkeye over there gets trigger happy.”

Peter gave him an incredulous look, but got to his feet nonetheless. Tony turned and headed back towards Clint and assumed the kid would follow, but when a few minutes past and Peter didn’t join them, concern stabbed at his stomach. He pushed it down when Clint clearly got impatient and stormed to where the he had last seen the kid, before he started yelling.

“Hey!” Tony was already making his way over before Clint could finish. “What did I say when we walked down the steps yesterday?”

Peter, hands deep in a pile of Clint’s magazines, looked like a fish out of water with the way his mouth opened and closed.

“What’d I say?”

“I was just fixing your stupid pile!” Peter shoved the magazines away from him, which caused the pile to tip over and make more of a mess.

“Don’t. Touch.” Clint looked dangerously close to getting his bow out. “You better not have stolen anything, you little-”

“Why would I want any of your shit?”

Peter stepped away from the pile and joined Tony’s side, all while sticking his middle finger at Clint who continued to seethe where he stood. The two stared each other down with matching glares, before Clint scoffed and turned on his heel without a word. Just as Peter was about to walk past Tony, he took the opportunity to lightly smack the back of the kid’s head.

“Hey!” Peter snapped. “What was that for?”

“Stop making him angry. Remember what I said?”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s paranoid. Blah, blah, blah.”

“Just…” Tony pinched the bridge his nose. “Reign it in, alright? We need that car battery.”

“No wonder this guy doesn’t have any friends.” Peter rubbed the back of his head. “What battery?”

“There’s a car-”

Clint’s angry bark cut Tony off.

“Move it!”

The archer was stood at the bottom of a wooden staircase, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently against the floor as the pair made their way over to him. With one last sneer directed at Peter, the archer led them up the stairs and through what used to be an old church. The walk through the open space was easy thanks to the furniture piled against the walls, the cross at the front of the room towering ominously in the morning light as Clint brought them over to a window.

Already, Tony could hear the sounds of infected coming from outside.

As he stepped out of the window and onto the roof, Lincoln High School was visible from the church in the form of an old scoreboard peeking just over the trees. Tony, once again, had to make sure the kid didn’t hurt himself when he jumped down from the roof, to which Clint let out an unamused snort and muttered something about babysitting under his breath. Tony didn’t care to listen, mostly out of terribly buried fear that it would make his attachment to Peter grow.

His recent nightmare still hadn’t quite gone away, the residual panic still causing his heart to beat a little faster than normal. He had to get himself together if they were going to go through a town overrun with infected.

He had to keep the kid safe, for Natasha’s sake.

Not even a second after Peter dropped to the ground did his face scrunch up. Tony discovered why shortly after, a pile of burning infected still smoking by the brick fence. The recognisable smell of burning flesh made Tony’s eyes water as he steered Peter away from the gruesome sight, the kid’s face starting to turn green as his eyes lingered on the charcoaled bodies.

Now that they were on ground level, the sounds of infected where almost deafening. There were multiple clickers strewn throughout the area, their clicking echoing around the walls. Before they stepped into the rest of the church’s garden, Tony pulled out a molotov and lit it. Beside him, Peter groaned, but said nothing else.

Clint was also prepared, his bow out and ready to fire. Peter went to do the same, but at the shake of Tony’s head, he lowered his hands with slouched shoulders.

“But isn’t this an emergency?”

“Let us handle it.” Tony whispered as he pressed his back against the stone wall. “Stay close.”

“But I can help.”

“Peter.”

Peter did as he was told with dejection. With Clint leading the way, Peter between them, the trio started to make their way through the garden. It was almost like a maze, the clicker’s screeching getting closer as they weaved around the tall stone walls. They eventually reached a courtyard with a half-broken statue in the centre, around five clicker’s coming into sight. They all mingled around the same area, some walking, some stood still.

Clint grabbed a large stone and hurled it at the statue. It hit its target without issue, and each clicker immediately started to head towards the sound. Tony handed the molotov to Clint, who waited until the clicker’s were bunched up enough before he hurled the bottle.

It smashed against the back of the biggest clicker with a roar. The surrounding infected screeched and wailed as their flesh caught fire, all five splitting in separate directions as they tore around. Within seconds, three were down, but two remained standing with their clothes still burning.

Peter had already plugged his nose, but his eyes still seemed to water when the smell hit.

Clint took care of the last two clickers, two arrows fired respectively. When the coast was clear, they moved through the courtyard and through an open gate that allowed access to the street.

There were infected everywhere. Three runners had congregated nearby, movement of other infected visible in the distance in backyards and garages. Clint delivered arrows into the two closest while Tony snapped the neck of the third before they kept moving. The archer collected his arrows for re-use, a permanent scowl on his face as he slipped the bloodied arrows into his quiver.

It was slow work, but with the combined strength of Tony and Clint, they took out most of the infected and used garages, sheds and houses for cover. Thankfully, there were no bloaters around, only runners and clickers.

Once it was safe enough, the three of them walked over a plank from a roof to a treehouse and dropped down into what would have been a lavish backyard back in two thousand and thirteen. The pool was empty aside from the calf-depth, murky green water in the bottom. A dog kennel was stationed against the back fence, still mostly intact, the only colour in the otherwise dead backyard.

The house itself was a family home, big enough for at least five people. Peter followed him around as he made his way upstairs, snatching anything sharp off the shelves to make shivs out of, along with medical kits with anything useful inside. Peter also took a few things, and seemed keen to steer clear of Clint who continued to brood downstairs.

Soon, they ended up in what clearly used to be a teenager’s room. The shelves were littered with trophies, the walls covered in video game and science posters. The bed was unmade, the blankets covered with mould and an abandoned stuffed animal that was half-covered by a pillow.

Before he could think better of it, Tony picked up a small notebook that had the name Harley Keener written on the front.

He knew he shouldn’t read it. The diary of a teenager that was most likely dead.

For all he knew, he could have been one of those clickers outside.

“What’s that?” Peter peered around his arm. “You know, it’s rude to read people’s diaries, Mr. Stark.”

Tony barely contained a flinch. No one had called him Mr. Stark since before the outbreak.

“Make that the last time you call me that.” Tony snapped as he opened the journal. Howard’s face, then his employee’s faces flickered through his mind as he forced himself to read the words on the page. “And I’m dead serious, kid. It’s Tony. Nothing else.”

“But Stark’s your last name, isn’t it?” Peter shrugged, like he hadn’t almost upended years worth of memories. “FEDRA guards always made us call them by their last names. They even called me by mine when they were really angry. ‘Parker, get your ass over here!’ Or, ‘Parker, you’re going in the pit for the whole fucking night!’”

Peter’s voice lowered as he mocked the guards, arms flailing as he spoke.

A part of Tony wanted to indulge the kid, just this once. He had a good idea of what the FEDRA guards would have been like inside the school, and he was pretty sure he had a good idea of what Peter was like inside the school.

A troublemaker set on disrespecting every authority he could.

Instead, all he could do was sigh.

“Just… don’t, Peter. Got it?”

“Okay.” Tony doubted that was the last time he’d hear Mr. Stark come from the kid. “Now let’s read this kid’s diary.”

Tony looked down at the open diary in his hand, messy handwriting scrawled hastily across the lined pages. Each entry began with a date, beginning all the way back to two-thousand and ten. Most of what the diary contained was usual teenage stuff, stuff Tony couldn’t care less about, and Peter didn’t seem too interested either.

It was when they reached two-thousand and thirteen when the entries stopped all together.

October 4
It’s offical, school is closed indefinitely. I guess this outbreak is good for something. No school = no homework, which is fine by me. More time to work on my new inventions.

October 5
Mom and Dad were fighting. They were somehow yelling at each other while whispering at the same time. It sounded like Mom wants to leave - go to her sister’s. Dad says it’s safe here. That the outbreak won’t reach our town.

October 6
Dad yelled at me for listening to the radio. He says that the news is bullshit. Mom agreed with him while putting on a brave face, but I can tell she’s scared. They both look scared.

October 7
I think Dad felt bad about yesterday. Gadget was asleep in my bed and Dad didn’t say anything about it. He came in, petted him, sighed, and walked out. I’ve never seen him like this.

October 10
Dad was consoling Mom last night. Aunt Karen is dead… at least that’s what I think I heard. When we sat for breakfast, everyone was all quiet, as if nothing happened. I played along.

October 15
Officer Jones stopped by and chatted with Dad. More like whispered with Dad - lots of that going around these days. Afterwards Dad told us that we have to leave town. We have to go to a new home. That the military will protect us. I’m only allowed to bring one bag with me. Mom just sat there.

October 16
Where we’re going, there are no pets allowed. We drove to the edge of town with Gadget. I took off his collar and let him go. On the drive back, Dad kept talking about how he’ll be fine.

“He’s meant to be free in the wild.”

Whatever.

October 17
It’s time. Dad says we’ll be back before we know it…

I think he’s full of it.

They’d gone to a quarantine zone. Or at least, they’d attempted to. Whether they made it or not was a whole different story.

Either way, this whole family was more than likely dead.

“I think Harley would have been cool.” Peter, sometime during the time Tony had been reading, had moved to look at what looked like science projects on the teenager’s- Harley’s shelves. His inventions. “Look at all this. He even made a potato gun when he was like eight. I saw a trophy for it on the shelf over there. I wish I could go to a science fair.”

Peter picked up the contraption to study it, eyes full of wonder.

“Do you think they made it?” Peter put the potato gun down and picked up another project that was covered in dust. “They were going to the quarantine zone, right?”

“Yeah.” Tony placed the diary back where he’d found it. “I don’t know if they made it, kiddo.”

“I hope they did.” Peter gently placed the project back and turned to Tony, eyes suddenly stricken with a mixture of grief and guilt. “Look, I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry about Nat. That’s it, I won’t bring her up again.”

“Peter… you don’t need to worry about me.” Whatever anger that had threatened to rise about the mention of Natasha quickly dissipated. Instead, he was just tired. This wasn’t the time to start barking orders in Peter’s face. The kid was being sincere. “Let’s go check on Clint.”

“Okay.”

Together, they descended the stairs back to Clint, who was waiting for them in the house’s garage. Tony was just able to catch the saddened look on the man’s face before his features hardened at their entrance.

“About time, Jesus Christ.” Clint uncrossed his arms and bent down. “Tony, help me with this.”

With a grunt, they lifted up the old garage door and slid underneath. They were a few feet away from the school now, several school buses and cars parked haphazardly around the large parking lot at the front of the building.

Most of the buses were evacuation buses. Buses that most likely never even made it out of the parking lot.

Just as Clint had warned them, far too many infected lingered around the site. One would disappear behind a bus, only for another to appear from behind a different bus not far away. The place was crawling with the freaks. One wrong move would set a horde on them. A horde they wouldn’t be able to escape on foot, especially with an asthmatic, no matter how fast he could run.

Lodged into the side of the high school was the military car Clint told them about.

Nothing needed to be said between them. Clint shot down the first runner with an arrow to the skull as Tony grabbed the last molotov from his backpack. The nail bomb would attract too much attention, and if there was as much infected around as Clint said there was, he didn’t want to take that chance.

Peter eyed the molotov with disdain as one runner and two clickers crossed paths with each other, not caring if they stumbled into one another. The sounds the runner made was guttural, pained. Not for the first time, Tony thought he heard words mixed in between the scrambled noises, but it was difficult to tell.

One of the clickers was short. Shorter than Peter, but taller than Morgan had been. When then thing turned, Tony spotted the ripped, dirty shirt it was wearing. It was a child’s shirt. It also wore a backpack, just like the other clicker which was definitely an adult, which told Tony all he needed to know.

Tony threw the molotov before he let himself think about it.

The three infected were immediately engulfed in flames, and crumbled to the ground shortly after. Simultaneously, Clint fired arrows as they ducked behind cars and buses to get closer to the school.

It went fairly well until they reached the barbed wire fence that wrapped around the school. It had been put there in an attempt to stave off the outbreak, but obviously didn’t fare well in saving the town. The sounds of infected erupted around them, along with Peter’s panicked yells as at least seven of the things came rushing towards them.

“They’re coming from everywhere!” Peter ran ahead of them towards the back of a school bus. It was their only way of getting across. “Someone left a ladder up there! Help me up!”

Clint, to Tony’s surprise, got to Peter before he could. While the man practically threw Peter on top of the bus, Tony fired the shotgun at the mass headed towards him, satisfied when the bullets took out several infected at a time. It didn’t take long for Peter to drop the ladder down to them, Tony last up as he continued to fire.

There was no time to think about the car, which was now just a few steps away as they jumped down from the bus on the other side of the fence. More infected were making themselves known, thrashing against the fence, climbing on top of each other to reach them. Tony grabbed Peter by the wrist and dragged him around the back of the school, behind where the military car smashed into the brick.

The infected were coming quicker than ever. A whole horde, far too many for a shotgun and explosive arrows to take out. There was no time to waste as Tony jumped on top of a radiator and started to desperately pull at the sliding window, his movements frantic as the infected started to catch up with them at an alarming speed. Peter tried his best to help, but all he did was get in the way.

Finally, with a second to spare, the window gave way and slid open. Tony shoved Peter in first, then ushered Clint in before he made to go himself.

Before he could get his full body inside the school, an infected grabbed his legs and yanked.

“Tony!” Peter cried and latched onto one of his arms and started to pull. There was no way Peter on his own was going to be able to free the clicker’s vice grip, and there was no way Tony would be able to free himself. The clicker was strong. “Shit, Tony!”

Clint grabbed his other arm and yanked hard enough for the clicker to loosen its grip. Tony tumbled into the room with a yell, his already sore back cracking against the ground when he landed with a sickening thud. Peter slid the window shut, far too close to the window for Tony’s liking, especially when the same clicker threw itself against the glass.

“That’s not gonna hold!” Peter backed away and bumped into Tony. “What are we gonna do?”

The doors, only held together by a flimsy chain, were going to give in any moment.

“Quick, the shelf!” Tony grabbed the front of a shelf while Peter positioned himself on the other side.

Together they pushed the shelf in front of the door and bought Clint enough time to yank the hood of the military car open. Peter and Tony kept as much pressure on the shelf as they could, the thing shaking vigorously as more and more infected piled against it.

Clint really hadn’t been kidding when he said this part of town was dangerous.

When Clint finally forced the hood open, Tony wasn’t comforted by the dumbfounded look that immediately appeared on his face.

“It’s empty.”

Tony was sure he blacked out for a moment. For a brief second, all he heard was white noise, before the anger arrived as he stormed over to the archer.

“What?”

“It’s fucking empty!” Clint screamed, unfiltered horror written all over his face. “Someone- someone stole the fucking battery!”

“Guys!”

Tony turned, only to see Peter struggling to keep the shelf in place. If they waited any longer, the infected would overpower the poor kid, and the shelf would fall on him. His protective instincts overrode anything else as he turned to Clint, desperate.

“Clint, where are we going?”

“It’s fucking empty!”

“Clint, where?!”

“Anywhere but here!”

Clint took off, and Tony grabbed Peter and pulled him away from the shelf. The second Peter let go, the shelf toppled over, and the chain holding the doors closed snapped.

The doors flew open and the large group of infected surged forwards without hesitation. All Tony could see was blood, all he could hear was screaming as the horde rushed towards them. Cursing himself for not taking out the nail bomb, all they could do was haul ass towards the next set of doors, which entered into one of the school corridors.

“Duck!” Clint screamed as they ran past, before he released an arrow.

The explosion was deafening. The force took Peter and Tony’s feet out from under them, but Tony was quick to get the both of them up and moving again. Ahead, the infected that were already inside of the school were headed towards them, the sound loud enough to attract any infected in the nearby radius.

“Barton!” Tony fired at the clicker approaching them. He heard the doors slam behind him, but they weren’t anywhere near safe.

“For fuck’s sake! Get down!”

Tony and Peter threw themselves down behind a row of lockers as Clint fired another arrow. The explosion was just as deafening, the kid’s flinch almost violent as he pressed into Tony’s side. Without thinking, he slung an arm around the kid’s shoulders and covered him with his body, the sounds of infected still echoing around the school as they rushed towards the sound.

This couldn’t have gone worse.

“I’ve nearly run out of explosive arrows!” Clint, on the opposite side of the corridor, continued to fire off arrows. “I can’t believe you got me into this shit, Stark!”

Tony was in no position to get the nail bomb from his backpack or reach the shotgun. All he could do was grab his handgun from his jeans and keep Peter covered as he fired blindly, the darkness concealing some of the infected as they approached.

After what felt like years, finally, the noise ended.

Peter was practically clinging onto him, his face hidden in Tony’s side as they stood there in silence. Somehow, the silence was even more deafening than what they had just been through.

Especially when the kid was wheezing the way he was.

As much as he hoped it would be, there was a pretty decent chance that it wasn’t the end of the infected. There was still a whole school’s worth of area to cover, if they even found a way out. There was no telling what could be locked in classrooms, or even the basement.

Tony didn’t want to fucking know.

Once he was certain they were in the clear for now, Tony stepped away from Peter.

Peter was pale in the face, his eyes wide with fear as he stepped out of the safety of the lockers. The corridor was a mess of blood and bodies, scorch marks from the explosion staining the floor and walls black. What used to be a school, a safe place for children, was now a graveyard.

As if it hadn’t been before.

“Inhaler, Peter.” Tony urged as he turned to Clint. “Where are we going?”

“We can-” Clint coughed, partially hunched over. “We can sneak out the back.”

“It can’t get any worse than that.” Peter breathed, his hands trembling as he brought his inhaler to his lips. “Fuck, I thought we were gonna die there.”

As he watched Peter take a few shaky breaths, the reality of what had just happened started to sink in.

They’d almost died for a fucking car battery that wasn’t even there.

“You can’t get any closer than that.” Clint, for once, didn’t sneer at Peter.

Still tense and hesitant, Clint led them through the rest of the school. Peter stopped by a noticeboard and snatched a piece of paper off of it, something about the winners of the science fair. Tony would have disregarded it completely if Peter didn’t shove the decaying paper in his face, his finger pointing at one name in particular.

FIRST PLACE: HARLEY KEENER, 10TH GRADE

Tony didn’t know what to say. Peter didn’t seem to, either.

Reminders of life before the outbreak were everywhere. Posters, stationary buried in the dirt in classrooms, faded writing on whiteboards and old science equipment. Despite the horror they’d just been through, Peter gawked at the sight of a science classroom, and Tony didn’t miss the look of longing on his face.

“There should be a way through here.” Clint stopped in front of closed double doors. “If we’re lucky, we’ll make it through alive.”

Of course, when Clint tried to open the door, it had been blocked from the other side.

It took almost five pushes between the both of them for the barrier to give way. A stack of gym weights toppled over with a loud crash as they shoved their way inside, the gymnasium a complete mess of unused supplies scattered all over the court. Quickly, Tony and Clint barricaded the door just in case more infected from other areas of the school were on their way.

“There’s our way out.” Clint pointed to a hole in the window where the bleachers were stacked against the wall. “We have to hu-”

Just as Clint spoke, a deafening thud shook the room.

“What the hell was that?” Peter shifted closer to both adults. “Guys?”

“Oh no.” Clint muttered, followed by another thud. On the opposite side of the gym, the supply closest doors shook violently. Dread started to fill his body as his mind made the connection. “Stark, get the kid on the bleachers!”

“What?!” Peter exclaimed, but there was no time to explain.

Tony and Peter hurried towards the bleachers when the third thud echoed around the room, far more violent than the first two. Any second the doors were going to burst open.

Tony got down on one knee and boosted Peter up onto the bleachers. The kid struggled for a moment, desperately trying to pull himself over, but the bleachers were too tall. At the same time, the supply closet doors were ripped off their hinges, the roar of the bloater trapped inside finally hitting his ears.

With one final push, Tony helped Peter the rest of the way.

“Stay hidden, kid!” Tony yelled as he raced to grab the nail bomb from his backpack. Once he had the bomb and the shotgun in hand, he threw his backpack onto the bleachers with Peter. There was no time for him to put it back on. Meanwhile, Clint dodged a spore ball that came flying his way. “No matter what you do, stay hidden! Don’t make a sound, okay?”

“What the actual fuck is that?!”

Tony could barely hear Peter over the roar of the bloater. This time, a spore ball came in his direction at the same time Clint fired his final explosive arrow.

Blood rained everywhere, but the bloater remained standing. Twenty years worth of infection tore across the gym, it's footsteps thundering as barrelled in Clint’s direction. Just before the thing could reach the archer, Tony hurled the nail bomb in its path, satisfied when the bang echoed around the room. Still, the bloater didn’t go down.

Tony fired a few shotgun shells once he was close enough, blood rushing in his ears as the bloater turned towards him instead. As the bloater hurled another spore ball at Tony, he could see Clint rifling through his backpack. A second later, Clint yelled at him to take cover just as he hurled his own nail bomb at the bloater.

When the bloater’s attention once again focussed on Clint, Tony noticed two runners toppling to the ground from a hole in the upper wall of the gym. Cursing, he fired at the things when they charged straight for him, bodies jolting unnaturally as they desperately tried to reach their prey. The shotgun was too much for them, however, as their bodies flew backwards with the force at which the bullets pierced their bodies.

Another nail bomb exploded behind him, the bloater’s gargled roar threatening to rupture his eardrums as more blood and infection coated the gymnasium floor. Tony ducked behind a pile of suitcases beneath the basketball ring and reloaded, glancing quickly towards Peter’s direction to make sure the kid was still alive.

Peter had tucked himself behind a crate, the top of his head barely visible.

Good. The kid was safe.

After what felt like years of firing all of his shotgun ammo into the back of the bloater, along with Clint’s shots from the hunting rifle, the bloater let out one last roar before it tumbled in a heap. Blood oozed out from the body as it died, its disgusting body emitting a smell that could have been worse than burning flesh.

“I am not waiting around here any longer.” Clint snarled as he made his way over to the bleachers where Peter remained hidden. “Stark, help me up. We’re getting the fuck out of this place.”

Tony didn’t need any more convincing. He held Clint drag himself up onto the bleachers as Peter came out of his hiding spot, eyes wide with terror as he gazed down at the body of the bloater. Once Clint was stationed on top, he helped Tony onto the bleachers with a pained grunt.

“Tony.” Peter said the second he was back on two feet. “You lied to me, you motherfucker!”

“What?” Tony puffed, too dazed to really take in what Peter was saying.

“You said,” Peter heaved in a breath. He was still staring at the bloater. “You said there was nothing worse than stalkers, you liar! What the hell was that thing? It was huge!”

“I didn’t want to scare you.” Tony said the words before he could stop himself. “That’s what twenty years of infection will do to you.”

“Do you have a fancy name for those too, then?”

“Well, we call them bloaters, because they swell up.”

“Great.” Peter looked like he was going to be sick. “Brilliant. Bloaters. Is there anything else?”

“I hate to break up your little biology lesson, but we need to get the fuck out of here. Now!”

Clint’s interruption kicked Tony’s brain back into gear.

The second they made the jump from the window to the ground, the infected were after them. It seemed like a never-ending nightmare as they ran down the back of the school, the infected growing in numbers once again as they run through a gap in the fence and into a small gap that separated the school from the houses.

Ahead, there was a ladder propped against the fence.

Someone else had been in the town and hadn’t bothered to clean up their tracks.

Clint went up first, then Peter, then Tony. He fired his last shotgun rounds into the infected closest to him before he started climbing, all kinds of movement going on in the corners of his eyes as he climbed. The second he made it over the fence, Clint used a rake he’d found in the backyard of the house they’d just dropped into and knocked the ladder away before any of the infected could use it.

“Inside the house, now!”

No one wasted any time in getting inside the house. Clint slammed the sliding door behind him, and Tony was immediately grateful for the silence. The infected continued to pound on the fence, but unlike the ones at the school, they quickly lost interest once they realised there was no way of getting to their prey.

“Clint?” Tony forced out through gritted teeth. “The fucking battery?”

“Someone had the same idea. They stole my shit.”

Tony bristled. “Well, what the hell is plan B?”

“Guys…”

Both men ignored Peter’s attempt to interrupt.

“Be thankful you’re still drawing breath! I wasted all my supplies on the two fo you!” Clint yanked off his bow and quiver and tossed it to the floor without care. The quiver was seriously lacking in arrows. “That was plan A, B, C, all the way to fucking Z. So you can go tell Nat that she can take this job and shove it up her-”

“Guys!”

“Don’t you dare bring Natasha into this!” Tony yelled so loud that his throat protested, jabbing a finger at Clint who in turn only got angrier. The sight of Natasha’s motionless body flickered through Tony’s mind as the anger began to suffocate him, now seconds away from throttling Clint right where he stood. “She had nothing to do with-!”

“Tony!”

“What, Peter?”

When Tony turned to Peter, the teen wasn’t looking at him.

Instead, he was staring wide-eyed at something over his shoulder.

Tony whipped his head around, his hand automatically going to his hip before he realised what had Peter so alarmed.

A body with a noose around its neck, hanging from the ceiling, already in the beginning states of decay.

Behind him, Clint let out a strained, choked sound.

“Do you guys… know him?” Peter whispered as Clint made his way closer to the body, an arrow ready to fire. “What are you doing?”

“He was my…” Clint choked on the words and fired the arrow instead. The arrow hit the rope with impeccable accuracy and the body slumped to a floor with a deafening thud. “He’s the only idiot who would wear that stupid shirt.”

As Clint kneeled down to look at the body, Tony suddenly remembered Peter was in the room.

“Peter, go in the other room.” Tony couldn’t stand the thought of a child seeing something like this, even though he knew the kid had seen much worse in just the last ten minutes alone. Still, before Peter could open his mouth to tell him so, he cut him off. “Just do it.”

“Okay.” Peter looked between them with worried eyes. “I’m going.”

Once Peter was gone, Tony turned back to Clint.

“He’s got bites.” Clint pointed to a clear teeth mark in Bucky’s side, a mouth-sized hole in the floral shirt. “Here, and here.”

“I reckon he didn’t want to turn, so…”

Tony couldn’t finish the sentence. The note Peter found in the subway tunnel came back to him, but he had a feeling Clint wouldn’t want to know.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Clint stood up, his expression hardening, but he wasn’t able to hide the grief from his eyes. “Well, fuck him.”

“Clint…”

“No.”

Clint tore his eyes away from his dead partner. Natasha’s face haunted Tony as he stared down at Bucky, the grief for his friend returning at full force.

Before they could say anything else, Peter stepped back into the room.

“Kid, what did I tell you?” Tony snapped, subconsciously blocking the body from sight as he crossed his arms. “Get in the other room.”

“I know, I know, but you’ll wanna see this!” Despite the situation, Peter’s eyes were suspiciously bright. “Come look!”

With a shared glance, the two men followed Peter into the garage. Peter gestured to a car, in perfect condition with the doors and hood wide open. As Clint made his way over to the engine and peered in, Tony started to connect the dots as he glanced back at where Bucky’s body lay slumped on the floor.

“That’s my battery!”

Bucky had wanted in to the Boston QZ. His escape vehicle was parked right in front of them.

It had never made it out of the garage.

“That fucking asshole.” Clint slammed the hood closed and made his way to the driver’s seat. He turned the key, but the engine failed to start. “The battery’s drained but the cells are alive.”

“Meaning?” Tony didn’t have time for Clint’s vagueness.

“Meaning, we push it, get it started and the alternator will recharge the battery.”

Tony scoffed. Their chances seemed even slimmer.

“That’s your plan B.” Clint growled. “That’s as good as it’s gonna get.”

He turned to Peter, who watched on eagerly. “So, what’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking you drive and we push.”

“Seriously?” Peter almost threw himself in the car in excitement. He closed the door behind him, looking around the car as if it was the best thing he’d ever seen. He started to fiddle with the buttons and mirrors, eyes filled with wonder as he turned to Tony with the biggest grin on his face. “This is so cool. I feel like I’m in a spaceship!”

“You’ve never been in a fucking car?” Clint sound horrified. “Tony, where did you find this brat?”

“None of your concern.” Tony replied. “I’m going to search the house for anything useful.”

“Sure, whatever. Bucky stole enough of my shit, he won’t be needing it anymore. Go ahead.” Clint sniffed, his eyes suddenly wet. “You do that while I teach this damn kid how to pop a clutch.”

“Wait… Bucky?” Peter looked wide-eyed at Tony. “Didn’t we find one of his notes in the subway? I remember that weird name.”

“Not now, Peter.”

Clint, to his surprise, remained silent.

With time to gather his bearings, Tony ignored Bucky’s body and searched the rest of the house. Turns out, Bucky had stolen quite a bit of shit from Clint. Weapons, supplies to make molotovs and nail bombs, even clothes. It didn’t take long for Tony to find a note in the house’s office sat innocently on top of a rotting desk.

It didn’t take long to realise who wrote the note.

Well, Clint,

I doubt you’d ever find this note cause you were too scared to ever make it to this part of town. But if for some reason you did, I want you to know I hated your guts. I grew tired of this shitty town and of your set-in-your-ways attitude. I wanted more from life than this and you could never get that.

And that stupid battery you kept moaning about, I got it. Yeah, I guess you were right that trying to leave this town would kill me. Still, it’s better than spending another with you.

Good luck, Hawkeye.

B. Barnes

Tony winced at the harsh words. Whatever happened between them, it was nasty.

He brought the note back with him to the garage, where Clint was still teaching Peter the basics so they could get the car started. Peter seemed to have completely forgotten about the corpse in the living room, his smile huge as he nodded along vigorously to Clint’s words. For the first time since they’d arrived at the archer’s town, the two were getting along.

“You do all that, you’ll be fine.” Clint eventually stepped away. “It’s just to get the truck started.”

“Awesome.” Peter’s gaze excitedly snapped to Tony. “Dude.”

“Yeah, very cool.” Tony regarded Peter with a glance before he turned to Clint, his hand extended in the man’s direction with Bucky’s note. “I, uh, found this in the… I just figured you should have it.”

Clint almost snatched the note from Tony’s fingers and turned his back to them to read. To give the archer some space, Tony leant on the car’s windowsill and peered in at the kid.

“Seatbelt.” His heart was surprisingly warm in response to the kid’s visible excitement. The boy was beaming. “We don’t need you dying if you crash.”

“Psh, I won’t crash. I’m a quick learner.” Peter didn’t make any move for the seatbelt. “What’s a seatbelt?”

“Fuck.” Clint groaned, though his voice had a particular edge to it. He sounded choked up, the note a crumpled ball in his fist. “You didn’t just ask that question.”

Tony reached over Peter and grabbed the seatbelt. The teen really did look like he was being strapped into a spaceship as he watched Tony buckle him in, his eyes even brighter when he met Tony’s again. He could hardly believe that getting buckled into a car was something this exciting, but to a kid who had spent his whole life trapped in FEDRA’s boarding school, it made sense.

The reminder of the kid’s age was like a punch to the stomach.

They’d just been chased by hordes of infected, attacked by a bloater and found Clint’s ex-lover strung up in the living room.

Yet, Peter was here, all giddy at the mere idea of being the passenger in a car, something that was considered a part of every day life before the outbreak hit.

When Tony was Peter’s age, he was used to being driven around by Jarvis, or whatever security guard Howard hired. When Morgan was a toddler, she hated being in the car because she got carsick every time no matter how short the drive. Eventually, she grew out of it, and started to ask Tony when she was allowed to drive.

“In eight years you can, Morguna. You’re too young.”

“But why not now, Daddy? I wanna drive your fancy car!”

At the time, eight years had seemed so far away. Tony had been terrified of seeing his little girl grow up.

Now, Morgan would never learn to drive. His baby boy would never learn, either. Tony never got the opportunity to teach them.

As he watched Peter fiddle with the CD player in the console, Tony realised with a jolt that there was an opportunity sitting right in front of him. Peter, a child born after the outbreak, completely and utterly clueless about what normal life had been.

However, the thought was gone before it could even fully form.

Peter was just cargo. Peter wasn’t his kid, it wasn’t Tony’s job to teach him how to drive.

Before he knew it, Peter would be gone from his life like he’d never been there.

“Woah!” Peter tugged at the seatbelt, completely and utterly fascinated by it. “It feels like I’m about to go to space! I can’t believe driving around in cars every day used to be normal before things went to shit.”

“You’d find it hard to believe most of the things we considered normal.” Tony’s mouth started moving before he could control himself. Peter started to fiddle with the CD player again, his other hand still wrapped around the seatbelt across his chest. “Hey, kid?”

Peter hummed, too distracted by the truck.

“You’re doing a good job. I thought you should know that.”

“Really?” At this, Peter’s gaze snapped to his. For a moment, he searched Tony’s face, possibly looking for anything that could allude to his words being a joke. When he found nothing, Peter’s smile, if possible, became even brighter before something serious passed over his face. “I won’t let you down with this. I promise.”

Tony wasn’t sure what he was talking about. The car, their trip to the Fireflies, or just everything.

“Alright.” Tony didn’t smile, but Peter still seemed to get the message. “Let’s get this over with. When we get out there, those things will hear us again instantly. We’ll have to be fucking quick.”

“Got it.”

Much to Tony’s disappointment, the bright smile disappeared, as did the light in Peter’s eyes. Back was the expression of a teenager who’d seen too much in his short life, the boy’s knuckles white where they gripped the steering wheel. Clint was getting ready to manually open the garage door, Bucky’s note now on the ground where it would remain forever.

Just as Tony made to head around the back of the car, Peter stopped him.

“Wait!” Peter bit his lip for a moment, radiating nervous energy. “What if I mess this up?”

“You won’t.” Tony reached into the car and squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “You’ve got it, kiddo.”

“Okay.” Peter took a deep breath. “I’ve got this.”

Internally, Tony was terrified that Peter would in fact mess something up, or panic behind the wheel. Making a kid who had never sat in a car in his life drive wasn’t the best idea, but it was the only one they had.

Even then, Tony was more worried about Peter’s life than his own.

Natasha’s words echoed around his skull as he braced his hands against the back of the truck. Clint opened the garage door with a little effort, the sound so loud that it made Tony’s skin crawl.

“Alright, put her in first!” Clint called out as he hurried to join Tony at the back of the truck.

“Okay…” Peter paused for a brief moment. “Done!”

“Now, just keep your foot on clutch until we get to a roll, and then-”

The rest of Clint’s words got drained out in the white noise of Tony’s mind. The two men pushed the car out of the garage until it started to roll, the kid frantically trying to start the car but to no avail. The tail lights flickered a few times, but the car didn’t start.

“Oh man.” Peter yelled from inside the car. “Now what?!”

In the distance, Tony heard an infected screech.

If possible, their situation became even more dire.

“Okay, kiddo, we’re going to have to try again.” Tony and Clint braced at the back of the car once again, both of them panting from the effort. “Stay focussed!”

“Just keep turning right!” Clint yelled. “Let’s get to the hill at the end of the street!”

They made it about halfway to the hill at the end of the street before a runner barrelled out of a nearby house, screaming and growling as it hurtled straight for them. There was no choice but to jump away from the car and grab the nearest thing to him, a plank of wood. With one smack to the face, the runner toppled sideways, dazed but not for long. He could hear Clint struggling with another infected as Tony kicked the runner’s head with his boot, satisfied when the body fell limp. Once Clint shoved an arrow into the throat of the other runner, they both rushed back to the car to push.

There were more infected coming, but they had no choice but to keep pushing.

“We gotta go faster!”

Both Tony and Clint upped their efforts, the car moving at a decent pace before the next wave of infected started to appear. This time, there was more than two headed their way, but they had to keep pushing until the absolute last second. Tony evaded a runner’s attack and kicked it away, hard enough for it to fall backwards and impale itself on an old wooden fence. Clint stabbed another infected while Tony attempted to push on his own, but they weren’t moving nearly as fast as they needed to.

“You know, Stark.” Clint grunted as they pushed. “You’ve really fucked my day up. You know that, Tony? Huh?”

“Just keep pushing!”

After what felt like far too long, the car finally started to move on its own once it hit the slope of the hill.

“Alright, Peter! Start her up!”

Tony watched with a bated breath as the car sped down the hill, tail lights continuing to flicker as Peter attempted to start the car. The sound attracted more infected from all angles, and all they could do was run as the car’s engine roared to life. Footsteps thundered behind the pair as they ran towards the tray of the car, getting far too close for comfort.

Tony and Clint practically flew into the tray, clickers and runners on their heels. Clint slammed his fist on the back window, frantic.

“Fucking floor it, kid!”

“Fuck!” Peter cried and slammed his foot on the accelerator. Tony almost fell back out of the tray with how aggressively Peter took off, the car swaying dangerously across the road as Peter steered them down the street. The infected continued to chase after them, but the car was too fast for them to keep up. “This is so terrifying, but so fucking cool!”

Peter swerved left at the end of the street, the tires screeching against the tarmac.

As the kid simultaneously missed hitting a light post and throwing both adults out of the tray, Tony’s mind unhelpfully reminded him that this was the first time Peter had properly driven, his only education a shitty crash coarse from Clint Barton.

However, as he looked back at the few stray infected trailing behind them in the distance, Tony decided he’d rather die from the kid’s erratic driving than be torn to shreds.

-

“Alright, that’s far enough! Stop, for christ’s sake!”

As soon as the words were out of Clint’s mouth, Peter slammed the breaks hard enough for the archer’s head to smack against the back window. Tony, already aware enough of Peter’s inexperience, had prepared for the abrupt stop and merely watched with light amusement as Clint rubbed the back of his head.

“Get me out of this death trap.” Clint grumbled under his breath as he stepped over the side of the tray. “Surprised he didn’t give me a fucking concussion.

Tony didn’t bother with giving Clint an answer. Instead, he turned to Peter, who was already peering at him through the back window, panting like he’d just ran a marathon. 

“Just keep it running, alright?”

When Peter threw him a thumbs up, Tony got out of the car and joined Clint on the side of the road.

Clint, still rubbing the back of his head, immediately began to complain.

“That little shit almost got us killed.”

“You have to admit, he held his own back there.” Tony glanced at Peter, who was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Especially for a kid who learnt what a seatbelt was ten minutes ago.”

Clint stared at him, laughed, then turned around and started to dig through his backpack.

“You’re never going to make it.” Before Tony could even decipher what that meant, Clint threw something at him. He caught it out of pure reflex, surprised to realise that it was a siphon hose. “You’d be pretty surprised how many cars still have gas in them.”

Tony almost couldn’t believe Clint’s generosity.

“I appreciate it.” Tony wrapped the hose around his hand a few times, choosing his next words wisely. “Clint, about Bucky back there… that’s a tough deal. I’m, uh…”

Tony’s words failed him, and all he could do was meet Clint’s grief-stricken eyes.

“We square?”

“We’re square. Now get the fuck out of my town.” The archer turned to make his way into a nearby building, but stopped short. “Make sure you tell Nat how much of a batshit crazy idea all this shit was.”

Tony’s chest ached with grief. Clint must’ve noticed something in his expression, because suddenly, his eyes hardened.

“Where’s Nat, Tony?”

“She’s…” Tony sighed and rubbed his left wrist with his free hand. “She’s back at the QZ.”

“Now, you see, Stark.” Clint stepped closer. “I’m just as good at this shit as she is. I can see right through you. Where is she?”

“She got fucking infected. Is that what you want to hear?”

Clint blinked once.

Twice.

“Natasha? Our Natasha?” Clint almost yelled. In the corner of his eye, Tony could see Peter watching the situation unfold. He’d stopped tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, now completely still. “When the fuck did this happen?”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s gone, there’s nothing we can do for her.”

“What the fuck, Stark?” Clint opened his mouth to say more, but seemed to think better of it. Tony’s gut swirled with nausea. “You know what? I don’t fucking care. All attachments lead to is death, I told her that. Yet, Nat still went and got attached to you. Perfect fucking Tony Stark. I guess that never changed after the outbreak.”

Clint’s words momentarily stopped Tony’s brain. While Clint did know Tony’s full name, he’d never alluded to the fact that he’d known of Tony before the outbreak. Not one person since the end of the world had ever mentioned that they recognised him. Stark Industries was nothing but a distant memory, not even a memory at all to most.

“We’re square.” Tony grit out, his fist clenched tight around the siphon hose. “Hawkeye.”

“I said get the fuck out of my town.”

With that, Clint, sour-faced and fuming, disappeared into the building without another word. Tony took a moment to gather his thoughts, his skin hot with anger as he made his way towards the truck. Peter made some effort to pretend he hadn’t been listening, but the tears in his eyes caused him to fail.

“Tony…”

“Don’t, kid.”

“I was just going to say sorry.” Peter whispered. His fingers were just as white as Tony’s where they were clenched around the steering wheel. “I know it’s my fau-”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Tony shook his head and opened the driver’s door. “None of this is your fault. Now move over.”

“Aw, why? I’m an awesome driver!” Some light returned to Peter’s eyes, but not much. “I got us away from all those freaks, and I didn’t crash!”

“Sorry, but I don’t think you would pass your driver’s test.” Tony, despite the war raging inside his head from his and Clint’s argument, almost smiled. He tossed the siphon hose into the backseat. “Move over.”

“You had to do a driver’s test? What for?” Peter, of course, struggled to unbuckle his seatbelt. Instead of pressing the button, he yanked on it. “That’s super weird.”

“To drive.” Tony eventually undid Peter’s seatbelt for him. For a split second, he was back in Texas, helping Morgan unbuckle her seatbelt the first time she rode in the car without her car seat. She’d been so excited to be a big girl. “We couldn’t have first time drivers like you causing chaos on the streets.”

Peter shuffled over to the passengers seat while Tony slid into the driver’s.

“I’d be the best driver.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Tony side-eyed Peter, who just scoffed. “How’s about we get out of this shithole?”

“Yes, please.” Peter whined. “I hate your friend.”

“Yeah. I’m not so fond of him either.”

As Tony pushed his foot down on the accelerator, he was relieved to leave Clint Barton and his hellhole of a town behind.

Chapter Text

Sometime during the hours upon hours of driving, it had started to storm.

Tony sat with his elbow on the windowsill, one hand on the wheel as he stared at the abandoned road ahead. Most of the drive from Clint’s town had been spent in silence, the kid sprawled out on the backseat, hopefully asleep.

The sound of the rain and faint thunder was almost comforting, despite everything. The further they got from Boston, the less infected there could be seen or heard. It was a welcome change from the mess they’d gone through in Clint’s town.

Throughout the drive, Tony’s mind kept attempting to remind him of how bad of an idea this was. Clint’s words bounced around his skull like a broken record, but all he could do was pretend the man hadn’t been right.

Tony was attached. Attachments got you dead, like Bucky.

Like Natasha.

But there was no way he could just ditch Peter on the side of the fucking road and call it a day.

He was just a kid.

Cargo.

Tony sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. The sun was starting to set, which meant Tony had to pull over, both to rest and to get off the road and out of sight. He didn’t want to kill the both of them if he fell asleep behind the wheel, nor did he want people to spot the headlights in the dark.

In areas like this that lacked the infected’s presence, Tony was far more worried about the people, raiders and hunters alike. If a group happened to come across them while they were driving in the darkness, Tony and Peter were like sitting ducks. All it would take was one lucky shot, then Tony was dead and the car was out of control, killing Peter too.

In the dark, Tony couldn’t see what was lurking in the shadows even with the headlights. Maybe it was paranoia, but he wasn’t willing to put them both at risk.

He’d been in similar low-visibility situations one too many times.

“Aw, man!”

The voice that cut through the silence made him jump, his eyes automatically glancing through the review mirror into the backseat. He really shouldn’t have been surprised that the kid wasn’t sleeping, but was instead was laying on his stomach, an old, worn comic book in his hands.

“Hey, what happened to sleeping?”

Peter, upon being addressed, immediately sat up and kneeled on the console between the front seats.

“I know it doesn’t look like it, but this is not a bad read.” Peter shoved the comic in his face and waved it around like Tony was supposed to agree. The kid flicked to the back of the flimsy book and jabbed his finger at a large text box on the bottom. “But there’s only one problem, right here! To be continued! Man, I hate cliffhangers."

When Tony had gone through Peter’s bag in search of his inhaler, he didn’t remember seeing any comics in there.

“Where did you get that?”

Peter hesitated, his eyes meeting Tony’s in the review mirror.

“Uh, back at Clint’s.” Tony immediately sighed as his suspicions were confirmed. Peter was quick to defend himself. “All this stuff was just lying there! I doubt he would be into comics, it was a waste to leave them behind!”

After his and Clint’s colourful farewell, Tony couldn’t even find it within himself to be disappointed Peter had stolen from the man.

Secretly, he was thrilled.

“Well, what else did you get?”

At this, Peter practically bounced in his seat and started digging through his backpack. He pulled out another comic from the same series, Tony just able to catch a glimpse of the name of the cover.

Star Wars.

Of course, with all those badges decorating the back of Peter’s backpack, he would go for the Star Wars comics.

“I didn’t have enough time to find all the comics. These two aren’t even the same story, but it’s better than nothing I guess.” Peter sighed dejectedly and placed the comic on the seat beside him. “Have you ever seen Star Wars?”

“Maybe, I don’t remember.” Tony was sure he had, maybe with Morgan, but most of the movies she made him watch were a blur. “Not my thing.”

“Wow, I’m so shocked. I wish I could watch the movies but FEDRA didn’t allow any shit like that.” Peter snorted and dove back into his backpack. This time, he pulled out a cassette tape. Fuck, Tony hadn’t heard proper music in a while. Peter handed him the cassette with a grin. “Here, this make you all nostalgic?”

Tony flipped the cassette over and glanced at the cover.

AC/DC.

Man.

“Actually, this was before my time.” Tony inserted the cassette into the player. As the familiar tune of Back in Black began, an onslaught of memories slammed into him. Most of them were of days spent in the lab and parties with Rhodey in college. AC/DC had always been a big favourite of his. “This is a winner though. Shit, it’s been a while.”

“It’s good enough I guess.” Peter, unsurprisingly, returned to his backpack. Tony concentrated on dodging a few crashed cars in the middle of the road, skeletons of the people who had driven them scattered across the tarmac. Thankfully, Peter was too busy gathering his stolen items to notice the sight, or react to the crunch as the tires went over some of the bones. “I’m sure your friend will be missing this tonight!”

Papers rustled in the back seat as what sounded like a magazine was opened.

“It’s light on the reading but it has some interesting photos.”

Curious, Tony peered at Peter through the review mirror, only for his eyes to almost bug out of his head. He whipped around to face the kid, who was eagerly flicking through the pages, eyes filled with mischief.

In Peter’s hands was a porn magazine.

“Peter, that isn’t for kids-”

“Woah!” A poster flopped out of one of the pages, Tony just able to catch a glimpse of what Peter was looking at. It was definitely something such young eyes shouldn’t be looking at. “How… how would he even walk around with that thing?”

“Get rid of that-”

“Hold your horses! I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

Tony was an inch away from snatching the magazine from Peter’s grasp, but the kid yanked it out of range and continued to ogle the graphic photos. Keeping his eyes on the road and Peter at the same time was a difficult task, especially when the next words came out of the kid’s mouth.

“Wait… why are all these pages stuck together?”

If Clint was here, Tony would’ve strangled him then fed him to the clickers.

The horror must have shown on his face, if the the cackle Peter let out was anything to show for it. His whole body moved with his laughter, his back slamming against the seats as he threw his head back. Then, he closed the magazine and slapped Tony’s shoulder with it, his hysterical laughter filling up the whole car.

At least someone was having a good time.

“I’m just fucking with you! You totally fell for it!” Peter, still doubling over with laughter, wound down his window. Rain drops came inside the car, but the kid didn’t seem to care less as he leaned out the window, magazine in hand. “You should’ve seen the look on your face! Man, I wish I had a camera.”

“Kid-”

“Bye, bye, dude!” Peter hurled the magazine out of the window. Once the window was closed again, Peter climbed into the front seat, having completely ignored all Tony’s warnings about wearing a seatbelt. He sat in silence for a moment and tapped his fingers on his thighs, before he turned up the music. “You know, this actually isn’t that bad.”

“Damn right.” Tony huffed.

They drove in silence for a while, the cassette filled with multiple AC/DC songs Tony had sorely missed over the years. As the sky darkened, Peter’s energy depleted, and he was almost asleep where he sat. Finally, Tony made the decision to turn off the road and into the grass.

The second the wheels hit the uneven ground, Peter’s eyes opened. He gave Tony a questioning look, but thankfully didn’t ask as he drove the car deep enough into the woods that they couldn’t be seen from the road. The thought of sleeping in such a remote area wasn’t as comforting as he hoped it would be, but with the headlights off, the chances of being found by raiders and hunters were slim.

Once Tony found a place concealed enough, he made sure all the doors were locked before he turned off the car. Without the headlights illuminating the space around them, the darkness was eerie. All he could hear was the rain against the roof, something he had loved many years ago when he wasn’t in danger every time he slept.

Pepper had loved it, too. Even Natasha had mentioned it once or twice.

The two women didn’t have much in common, but rain was one of them.

Swallowing the memories, Tony made sure his handgun was within reach and he turned to Peter.

“Get in the back and sleep, kid.” Tony narrowed his eyes. “Since you weren’t doing so much of that today.”

“Why did you drive in the woods?” Peter asked as he transferred back to the back seat to lay down without complaint. “Isn’t there infected out here?”

“No. The further away from the city you get, the less infected there are. We’ll be fine. Definitely no stalkers.”

“Then why do you need your gun?”

Peter didn’t miss a thing.

“It’s not the infected I’m worried about.” Tony shifted a little to get as comfortable as he could in the hard car seats. “Go to sleep, kiddo.”

“You’re worried about people.” Peter whispered. “Do you think someone’s going to find us? Do you think they’ll rob us?”

“They’d do worse than rob us.” The words were out before Tony could stop them. He turned to Peter to gauge his reaction, just barely able to see the wide-eyed, frightened look the kid was giving him. No doubt his mind was jumping to all sorts of different conclusions. “Don’t worry, no one will find us. It’s just a precaution, go to sleep.”

“Are people really that bad?”

Tony held back his sigh as he lent his head back on the headrest, more out of sadness than anything.

“Yes, Peter.” Much worse than whatever Peter could think of. “They are.”

“But… it wasn’t always like this, right?”

“No. Society functioned, once. Before the outbreak caused everyone to go insane.” Tony replied, fists clenched on his thighs as he thought about the first few weeks after the outbreak. “Sometimes, the people who weren’t infected were worse than the ones who were. Stealing shit, killing each other to get that shit, some just for sport. It just kept getting worse from there. Laws don’t exist anymore outside of the quarantine zones.”

“What about the rest of the world?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think many do. The world’s communications have been down since outbreak day.” Tony shut his eyes. “The infection was spread worldwide. If I had to guess, the rest of the world is just as shitty as it is here. No use dwelling on it.”

“Wow.” Peter muttered. His words were slightly slurred with exhaustion. “That’s fucked up.”

“Be glad you weren’t born before outbreak, kiddo. It’s better you don’t know what the world used to be like. It’s better you didn’t have to go through outbreak day.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Seeing an opportunity to end the tense conversations that was beginning to hit too close to home, he opened his eyes and turned back to Peter, whose eyes were barely open.

“Go to sleep, you’re gonna need it.”

“Yeah…” Peter trailed, and finally, his eyes closed. “Night.”

Tony didn’t reply for some time, too lost in his own head to come up with a response.

By the time he muttered his own goodnight, Peter was fast asleep.

“Goodnight, Pete.”

-

For the first time in a long time, Tony wasn’t awoken by his own nightmares, but by someone else’s.

At first, he thought he was back in Texas. Delirious, he looked around the car in search of Morgan, because who else would be crying in their sleep? Morgan tended to have the odd nightmare from time to time, and more often than not, Tony was the one to wake up and comfort her. Pepper, the amazing woman she was, always had a lot on her plate. Especially while pregnant.

“Mo?”

Though, when his eyes found a child that was definitely not Morgan, Tony was knocked out of the illusion.

It wasn’t two thousand and thirteen anymore.

Peter was curled up on his side on the back seat, eyebrows furrowed and tears leaking down his cheeks as he sobbed quietly in his sleep. For a moment, Tony just sat there and stared, all logical thoughts failing him.

“No, no, no, no…” The kid whimpered and curled up tighter. “Ned…”

That name again. Ned.

Tony took a deep breath and tried to force all the similarities with his daughter out of his mind. He reached out to shake Peter’s shoulder, much like he had back in Clint’s cellar, and made sure to keep his touch gentle. Unlike at Clint’s, Peter’s hands were knife-free, his knuckles white where they held bunches of his shirt in his fists.

This time, Tony didn’t need to worry about Peter stabbing him in a sleep-induced panic.

He tried not to think about the fact that Peter trusted him enough not to arm himself while he slept.

“Kid.” Tony shook Peter’s shoulder again. “Wake up, buddy.”

The kid muttered something illegible, his body becoming even more tense under his hand.

“Peter.” Tony shook Peter’s shoulder a little harder. “Wake up. It’s just a nightmare.”

Thankfully, after a few more seconds, Peter’s eyes snapped open. He didn’t move, not like he had at Clint’s, and instead curled up further and wiped his eyes. Tony removed his hand and sat back, unable to hold back his concern as he watched Peter take in large, gulping breaths. He was visibly trying to hold himself together.

“You mumble in your sleep.”

Thankfully, Tony’s words had the desired effect. Peter let out the smallest of laughs when he realised he was being quoted.

“Ha, ha. You’re so funny, Mr. Stark.” Tony twitched at the title, but decided to let it go for once. Shakily, Peter sat up and wiped snot from under his nose with his sleeve. “What time is it? If we had a watch that wor-”

“Six or seven, judging from the light.” Tony cut Peter off and started the car, already itching to get moving. He didn’t wait to see Peter’s reaction to his sudden hostility, but that didn’t spare him from sensing the puppy-eyed look he knew he was getting. “Need to piss or anything?”

Peter muttered a quiet affirmation and slipped out of the car, still wiping tears from his cheeks. Tony waited, his gaze searching around the trees for anything out of place, his fingers firmly gripped around his gun just in case. Only when Peter came back unharmed did he let the weapon go and force his muscles to unclench.

Thankfully, they made it back to the road with no problems, and the hours started to blend together.

Sometime during the first hour, Peter slid into the passenger seat with his two comics, another book and the red badge he kept taking off his backpack. It was clear the kid was gearing up to ask Tony something as he rolled the badge between his fingers, repetitively side-eyeing Tony as he drove.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.” Tony immediately glared at the kid, whose tears had vanished, replaced with his usual look of mischief. On his lap he had a book Tony hadn’t seen him with before open in his lap, probably something else he’d stolen from Clint. “It doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationary.”

Peter peered at him over the book, obviously waiting for Tony’s reaction.

“What?”

“I walked into my sister’s room and tripped on a bra.” Peter waited a few seconds, presumably for dramatic effect. Tony sighed. “It was a booby trap.”

“What is that?”

“A joke book!” Peter waved the book around as if it were obvious. “No Pun Intended: Volume Too by Will Livingson. You know, Too, like t-o-o.”

“Let me guess, you stole that from Barton?”

Suddenly, Peter’s face fell, and the book closed. Slightly alarmed, Tony tried to figure out what he’d said wrong as he watched the boy out of the corner of his eye, who was now fiddling with the badge more than ever.

“No.” Peter’s voice was quiet, almost too quiet for Tony to understand. “A friend gave it to me.”

“Did they give you that badge, too?” Tony nodded in the direction of the badge. “What the hell is it supposed to be?”

“Why don’t we keep our histories to ourselves.”

Tony’s own words echoed around his head as Peter stared at him, obviously deciding whether or not he should answer. Eventually, he turned back to the badge and let out a weighted sigh. A sight that told Tony he’d breached a sensitive topic.

“Yeah, he did.” Peter rubbed his thumb over the face of the badge, an action that reminded Tony all too much of himself. Unable to control it, his eyes glanced to the cracked watch on his wrist, Morgan and Pepper’s faces passing through his mind. “He made it for me, actually, for my birthday. We had this thing, you know, where we made up superhero names for each other. Mine was Spider-Man.”

Mentally, Tony started to make the connection between Peter’s current sadness and the nightmare.

He had to be talking about Ned.

“Spider-Man sounds so cool, right?” Peter showed Tony the badge, which he could only glance at for a moment before his eyes returned to the road. “We came up with this whole skillset! Me, well, Spider-Man, is super sticky like a spider. I can climb on walls and even stick to the ceiling! I’m also super strong, strong enough that I could stop, like, a moving truck with my bare hands. Then Ned came up with the idea of web shooters, so I could swing through the city with my own webs!”

Tony had been right.

Ned.
Before he could get a word in, Peter kept on going.

“He also came up with a sixth sense type of thing. I would be able to sense danger before it even happens!” Peter, despite the sadness in his eyes, was clearly excited to tell Tony all about his made up superhero. It was so childlike, so innocent, that it made his heart break.
“If I was really Spider-Man, I’d be able to sense a stalker before it even tried to kill us. Isn’t that fucking awesome? I could web up a bloater, too! My web’s would be really strong.”

“Sounds it.”

Peter, not even deterred by Tony’s lacklustre reply, continued talking.

“If I was really Spider-Man, I’d wanna help people.” Peter’s shoulders started to slump again, and he started to rub the wrist he’d been bitten on instead of the badge. “I could save them from the infected and each other. Maybe… if I had real superpowers, I could cure the infected. Maybe, since I’m immune, I can save them…”

The only conclusion Tony could draw was that Ned had gotten infected, and Peter had been there. Back when Natasha had asked him if he’d been in the mall alone, Tony could tell the kid wasn’t being entirely truthful. If Ned and Peter had gotten infected at the same time, Peter probably had to watch his best friend turn.

Or worse.

Wisely, Tony didn’t say his revelation out loud. Instead, he gestured to the badge.

“What’s that got to do with the badge?”

“Oh!” Peter, thankfully, perked up again. “We used to make fake logos and stuff for our superheroes. This was mine, and he went and made it into a badge for me. I don’t even know how he did it! It’s supposed to be the mask of my hypothetical suit.”

“Suit?”

“To hide my identity, obviously. Not that it really matters in a shitty world like this. Maybe if I was born before the outbreak, or in another fucking universe. I wouldn’t want the whole world knowing who I am. A vigilante kind of thing.” Peter laughed, though he didn’t sound too amused. “Ned came up with that, too.”

They fell into an awkward patch of silence as Tony drove around an upturned truck, the car bouncing through the rough rock on the edge of the road. Once they were able to drive straight again, Tony glanced at Peter, who still stared intently at the tiny badge.

Now that he had some context, it made more sense. The two white and black symbols were eyes.

“So, what was Ned’s superhero name then?”

“We never…” Peter huffed. “We never got to figure that out.”

Too young.

Too fucking young.

If he hadn’t been certain about Ned’s fate before, he was now.

Unable to come up with something decent to say, Tony kept his mouth shut and just nodded in understanding. Peter didn’t seem angry from the lack of response and mostly looked relieved that he didn’t have to say the words out loud. Tony’s heart ached for the kid, but at the same time, he tried to remember not to get attached.

When the silence stretched on, Tony assumed Peter was done with conversation for now.

Quickly, he was proved wrong.

“Can I ask you a serious question?”

“Shoot.”

“Okay.” Peter, his eyes bright again, sat up in his seat and looked straight at Tony. “Can I give you a superhero name?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on! Why?” Peter groaned and dramatically sighed. “You know what, I don’t care. I’m going to think of one and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”

“I’m far from a superhero, buddy.”

“So?” A beat of silence. “I’m still gonna think of one. It’s going to be great, you’ll love it, I promise.”

“Sure, kiddo.”

Peter laughed to himself and grabbed an old, ratty notebook from his backpack and sat back in his seat. Tony didn’t even have to look at the kid to know he was brainstorming ideas already, the scratching of a pencil against paper filling up the car.

Tony was the furthest thing from being a hero. Maybe it made sense to Peter, but Tony couldn’t even fathom it.

Not with all the shit he’d done in the last twenty years.

Eventually, around half an hour later, Peter closed his notebook and drifted off to sleep once again. Tony inserted the AC/DC cassette tape back in and listened to it on low volume, only stopping once to siphon gas out of one of the abandoned cars at a half-destroyed gas station. For a moment, he considered looking through the station for supplies, but thought better of it. He wasn’t willing to leave a sleeping, vulnerable kid in the car by himself.

The gas station was close enough to Pittsburgh that there were more and more smashed cars on the roads, especially around the station. However, a truck that had most likely been FEDRA’s, had already cleared the roads enough for their vehicles to drive through. It had most likely been done years ago when the quarantine zone was still operating.

For the first and only time, Tony thanked FEDRA for creating a clear enough path.

Peter slept through the entire ordeal, the last few days obviously catching up with him.

When the city finally came into view, Tony could almost sense the foreboding atmosphere. Unlike Boston, the city wasn’t in complete ruins, but it was certainly on its way. Most skyscrapers were still standing, damaged, but standing. It was nothing like the skyscrapers they’d traversed in Boston.

There was more and more vehicle pile up, no doubt from everyone trying to flee the city at once. Evidence of the panic was everywhere he looked, through the cars haphazardly scattered around, some wrapped around light poles, others flipped on their roofs miles away from the road. Those were the ones that had been there since outbreak day, not shoved out of the way by a FEDRA truck. Most of them had been completely covered in shrubbery and rusted from years out in the weather.

Along with the cars came the bodies. They were everywhere, all skeletons hanging out of upturned cars and in pieces scattered across the road.

Somehow, no matter how many people and infected he killed, things like this never got easier to look at. Each upturned car reminded him of his dead family, of Pepper’s motionless form. Morgan’s pained and frightened cries as Tony carried her around the burning town, the screams of infected and humans alike echoing around them.

If he thought about it long enough, the phantom smell of smoke burned his nose.

Unlike Boston, Pittsburgh’s quarantine zone was next to nothing. It simply couldn’t cope with the infected and became overrun, then became essentially every man for themselves. It had been the exact reason why Tony had avoided this place for so many years.

Yet, here he was with an immune kid in tow.

While most of the traffic had been cleared by FEDRA, not all of it had. On the outskirts of the city, Tony found that out when the ramp they needed to use was completely blocked by piled up vehicles with no way through unless they ditched the car and went on foot.

“No, no, no.” Tony sighed, his hands tense around the steering wheel as he stared at the mess in front of him. Peter started to stir, a small yawn coming from the passenger side. “Jesus Christ.”

“Huh.” Peter’s voice was heavy with sleep as he looked between Tony and the blocked road. “Now what?”

Their only option was to head back and around the city, or take the exit into dangerous territory.

“Ah, fuck it.”

Going back and around would just waste time they didn’t have.

Tony turned off down the exit, eyes rapidly scanning the surrounding environment as they moved deeper into the city. Peter stared out the window, his elbow resting on the window as he gazed at the towering skyscrapers.

“This looks nothing like Boston.” Peter whispered, excited when he turned back to Tony. “So cool.”

Tony hummed in acknowledgement, too focussed on the surrounding buildings to really pay attention to Peter. Anything could be hiding behind those walls, waiting to leap out at the first indication of intruders.

Tony even hoped they’d see infected and not any raiders or hunters.

After another five minutes of driving, Tony was forced to slam on the brakes when a man stumbled out of a nearby building into the middle of the road. The figure was hunched over, one hand on his stomach, the other waving at them to stop. The hood concealed most of the man’s face, but Tony could still tell immediately that this man wasn’t injured at all.

There was no blood on him to suggest there was a wound. That, and his stance was all wrong, like he was prepared to bolt at any second.

“Hey! Please h-help me!”

A growl bubbled up Tony’s throat, his words coming out stiff when he addressed Peter.

“Peter. Put your seatbelt on.”

“Aren’t we going to help him?” Peter asked as he yanked his seatbelt over his chest and buckled himself in, fumbling all the way. Tony did the same, eyes still focussed on the man who continued to stumble closer, the movements painfully familiar to Tony. Every second that passed, the closer the man’s hand drifted to the waist of his jeans, where a weapon was more than definitely hidden. “Tony, what are you doing?!”

“Help m-me!”

As Tony braced to floor it, Peter let out an alarmed sound and glanced between Tony and the man.

“Tony?! What about the guy?”

Tony knew exactly what this was.

It was a trap.

He should’ve just gone back and around the city, what the fuck was he thinking?

“He’s not even hurt.”

Tony slammed his foot down and the car took off with a screech that could be heard for miles. The man immediately gave up the act with a string of curses and pulled his gun out of his jeans. As he did so, more people emerged from their hiding spots, guns raised and ready to fire. It wasn’t long before bullets peppered the car, the man firing one shot into the windscreen before he dove out of the way of the car.

Hunters. It had to be.

Tony swerved to avoid either of them getting shot, the back end running over a man who tried to shoot out the tires. Fully in survival mode, Tony almost didn’t notice another person on top of a nearby roof, in the middle of hurling a concrete brick in their direction. Tony swerved to avoid the deadly object, only for it to land in the middle of the windshield with a sickening crack.

It didn’t smash completely, but it was damaged enough to hinder Tony’s vision.

In the corner of his eye, he spotted something headed straight for the passenger side.

Headed straight for Peter.

All of a sudden, Pepper’s voice echoed in his head and blinding headlights filled his vision.

“LOOK OUT!”

Pepper’s panicked scream pierced his ears as a bus, dislodged and pushed by the hunters, plowed into the side of the truck. Tires screeched as the car threatened to flip, but thankfully, all four wheels remained on the ground as it became harder and harder for Tony to control the vehicle.

This time, Tony heard Peter’s voice as the kid threw up his arms to shield his face from more shattered glass. The car skidded through the street, just barely missing other cars and debris, headed straight for an old storefront. There was nothing Tony could do as the car smashed through the store and into the concrete wall at the back, hard enough that Peter and Tony were seconds away from cracking their heads on the steering wheel and dashboard.

Maybe Tony did hit his head, because for a brief moment, his vision blacked out as the world around them fell quiet. The next time his eyes opened, he was bent awkwardly over the steering wheel with a new ache in his head.

The first thing he saw was Peter, blood pouring from a nasty cut on his right eyebrow, covering his cheek and dripping down his neck. The kid had a grimace on his face, and Tony barely stopped himself from reaching over to assess the cut for himself.

“I’m okay.” Peter heaved out, mostly to himself. “I’m o-okay.”

Morgan’s voice filtered through Tony’s mind as he watched Peter try to calm himself down, but there was no time to act on his impulse.

“Get out, quick!”

Peter only just managed to unbuckle his seatbelt when the passenger door was ripped open. Panic almost blinded Tony as a hunter reached in and grabbed Peter by the shoulders, violently yanking the kid out of the car. Tony latched onto the teen’s foot, desperation clouding his vision as he tried to dislodge the hunter’s grip on Peter. His attempts were rendered useless when another hunter grabbed him from behind and pulled him away.

Tony’s grip slipped from Peter’s foot, and the two of them were simultaneously yanked out of the car in separate directions.

“Tony!”

Peter’s calls for him echoed around the destroyed store as Tony grappled with the man who dragged him across the ground like a rag doll. Before he could get his feet under him, the man yanked his head up and smashed it through the glass of an old fridge. Pain exploded across his face as shards of glass pierced his skin, but there was no time to gather himself when a hand wrapped around his neck and pushed down.

Tony’s neck was inches away from being stabbed by a large protruding shard of glass that hadn’t been smashed on impact. He braced both hands on each side of the door frame and pushed against the hand as hard as he could, thankful when he could feel the man’s grip starting to weaken. With a burst of effort, Tony slammed his elbow into the man’s face and knocked him backwards.

Taking the opportunity, he gave the hunter a taste of his own medicine. Tony slammed the man’s throat onto the glass shard and let his body drop, barely hearing the gurgling sounds as he searched the area for Peter.

He spotted the boy just as he was backhanded hard across the face. Peter fell flat on his back, and Tony saw red as he ran over and kicked the man off him before he could land a fatal blow. Surprised by Tony’s sudden attack, the man stood no chance as Tony bashed his head into a nearby shelf twice hard enough to kill him.

Body rendered motionless, Tony grabbed Peter’s arm and helped him up. Now that the blood covering the kid’s face was his own and not an infected’s it was all the more sickening to look at. Peter wiped his eye and smeared more red across his face and into his hair, scared eyes darting all around the store as he pressed close to Tony.

“Motherfuckers!” Peter spat, his tone full of venom. His voice started to sound wheezy, which only elicited terror from deep within Tony’s chest as he let go of the kid to grab their backpacks from the truck. Tony needed his weapons, and more importantly, Peter needed that inhaler. “What the hell is their problem?”

“Catch your breath, we’re leaving.”

“Okay.” Peter heaved and quickly pulled on his backpack when Tony handed it to him. To Tony’s worry, the kid didn’t even try to get his inhaler. There was no time to tell him to when, suddenly, Peter’s eyes went wide at something behind Tony. “Look out!”

Peter and Pepper’s voices combined echoed around his head as a bullet whizzed past his ear and shattered the only remaining window in the car. Peter threw himself down, as did Tony, who immediately grabbed the kid’s wrist and forced him to make eye contact.

“You stay low and you keep close to me no matter what. They won’t shoot you, okay?” Peter gulped and nodded, a pained grimace on his face as he wiped more blood from his eye. The cut on his eyebrow was deep enough to scar. “They won’t shoot you, I promise.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded. “They won’t shoot me.”

With one last nod, Peter and Tony ducked between shelves and old crates until they reached the window of the store that opened into a small side alley. The entire time bullets sprayed around them, mostly in the direction of their crashed car. Tony had to shoot two hunters dead before he threw himself over the window sill, then grabbed Peter’s arm in a haste to get him over too. The kid seemed woozy on his feet, which only made Tony more desperate to get somewhere safe.

They managed to make it into another building and momentarily slip out of the hunter’s sight. Several men continued to lurk around outside, one on their way to the music store Peter and Tony had snuck into with a loaded shotgun aimed in front of him. Tony watched the man, eyes watching his every move as he stepped into the store.

The closer he got, the more the man looked like a boy a little older than Peter.

The teenager’s eyes darted around the room frantically, his movements clumsy. Even if Tony wasn’t so experienced at hiding from people, he would have heard the boy a mile away. Glass cracked under the hunter’s shoes, followed by a thud as his elbow knocked against a shelf.

He was nervous.

He was young.

At most, he was nineteen. Maybe even younger.

The shotgun was shaking in the teen’s grip, almost violently so. Outside, the hunters called out to each other, some voices far away, others much closer. There was too many for just Tony to take on, even with Peter’s help.

Tony kept a watchful eye on the teenager as he moved around the room, his heavy breathing another dead give away of his position as he darted around the corners of shelves. He was muttering something under his breath, almost like a prayer, and walked past where Tony and Peter were hidden without looking. It would take a second for Tony to grab the hunter and snap his neck.

Instead, once the teenager was far away with his back turned, Tony grabbed Peter and ushered him into the storeroom.

Deep down, Tony was glad for the teenage hunter’s inexperience.

That kid was too young to be doing shit like this, and while Tony had done it before in the most dire of situations, he didn’t want to be the one to end his life.

He didn’t want Peter to see that.

Once they made it out of the storeroom’s smashed window, Tony kept a firm grip on Peter as they rushed down the street and away from the growing group of hunters. Finally, they reached an old garage door at the end of a blocked off road. It was their only option.

Tony grabbed the chain and pulled, wincing at the noise as he opened the door enough for Peter to crawl under.

“Woah…” The kid whispered once he disappeared beneath the roller door. Something in his tone didn’t seem right, which only made Tony’s heart beat faster as he waited impatiently for the kid to get his shit together. “There’s some gnarly stuff in here. I think I’m going to be sick.”

“What?” Tony choked out. “Jesus, kid, grab something to hold up the door.”

Tony watched Peter’s dirty converse disappear from sight as he looked for something to use.

“Right, right.”

Peter shuffled around for a moment before Tony felt the pressure on the chain ease up.

“I’ve got the chain, hurry up!”

Hearing the strain in Peter’s voice, Tony let go and quickly crawled under the door. Once he was upright, he grabbed it again to take the strain off of Peter. The last thing they needed was for the loud crash to alert the hunters of their position.

Peter let go, and with as much strength he could muster, Tony lowered the garage door as slowly as he could until it was close enough to the ground that he could let it drop without too loud of a crash. It was still louder than he liked, but when there was no gunshots or yelling outside, he let out a relieved breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

For a few minutes, they were safe.

Behind him, Peter let out a disgusted grunt that ended in a wheeze, which prompted Tony to turn around. When his eyes took in the scene in front of him, he understood the horror in Peter’s tone.

The garage was a crime scene.

On two tables were two decaying bodies, fully stripped of clothes and almost unrecognisable. Strewn around the garage were piles of clothes, shoes, and anything else that would be useful to the hunters they’d just escaped.

Along with the mess of clothes and bodies, there was blood.

There was so much blood.

“What is all this?” Peter asked, still stood in the same spot beside the chain, eyes uncertainly flickering to Tony for answers. As he spoke, he blindly fished around his backpack, no doubt for his inhaler. “Who did this?”

“Hunters.” Tony stepped over a pile of clothes to reach for a note on top of a workbench in the corner of the room. It was a list of clothes that had come from each person. As he read, he heard Peter take a puff of his medicine. Thank God. “I knew I should’ve turned that damn car around.”

“So all these clothes are from the people they’ve killed? The people that try to go through the city like us?”

“Yes.” Distantly, Tony thought this might be Boston’s future if the Fireflies ever managed to overthrow FEDRA. “Just… try not to look and find a way out of here.”

“That’s a lot of people who didn’t make it.” Peter kept his eyes on Tony, the cut on his brow still leaking blood down his face. The red was even darker than the red shirt he was wearing. “I feel sick. What about that door? It’s the only one that’s not blocked by a bunch of shit.”

Tony looked to where the kid was pointing. True to Peter’s word, it was the only door that looked like it could be opened. Chances were, that was the door that the hunters used to move through the buildings on a regular basis.

Tony kicked a few stray shoes out of the way as made his way over to the door and turned the knob. It took more effort than he hoped, but eventually, he wedged it open enough for the both of them to slip through. Tony glanced out first, just in case there was anyone, or anything, waiting to jump them.

Thankfully, there was nothing but a distant shout from a hunter somewhere down the street. The door opened into a dark staircase, illuminated only by the slim cracks between the planks that boarded up the windows. He let Peter go first, who looked increasingly queasy the longer he stayed in the room.

As the kid hurried past him, Tony’s spotted something on the shelves in the corner of his eye.

It was three smoke bombs, obvious property of the hunters. Tony didn’t hesitate to grab all three and put them in his backpack for later use, then made his way up the first set of stairs, past Peter who had been waiting for him on the landing. The kid was staring at him with a look he couldn’t quite make out.

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

Tony looked away from Peter as he started up the next set of stairs.

“The ambush. How did you know that guy was playing us?”

He should’ve known Peter would ask. This kid had no boundaries.

Tony rolled his aching shoulders and grunted.

“I’ve, uh, been on both sides.”

“Oh.” Peter’s voice was small. “Does that mean you’ve killed a lot of innocent people?”

Tony couldn’t bring himself to voice the truth. He thought about what Pepper would think of him if she saw him now. Chances are, his wife wouldn’t even recognise the person the apocalypse had turned him into.

Morgan wouldn’t recognise her father. She’d be terrified of who he’d become.

Tony reached the top of the stairwell, which opened into a decaying hallway. On the left was a room filled with ratty blankets, mattresses, and ammunition. A makeshift sleeping area. Definitely a spot where hunter’s slept.

Peter, in Tony’s silence, came to his own conclusion.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” The kid made his way over to one of the dirty mattresses, which had a pile of magazines beside it. Peter knelt down and started to shift through them while Tony stole ammunition from a nearby crate. “Well, I guess this is where those assholes sleep. I wonder if they have any good shit here…”

“There’s no time to be looking for one of those damn picture books.”

“Picture books?” Peter sounded downright offended as he threw magazines haphazardly left and right. “Picture books? Tony, they’re comic books! I’m not ten!”

“You could’ve fooled me. Kid, do you want to be here when these hunters come back?”

Peter sighed, but stood up and abandoned the pile.

“Obviously not.”

“Then keep moving.”

Thankfully, there was no more complaints as they exited the hunter’s sleeping area and back into the hallway. Tony, with a little effort, forced the door that connected to the roof open, only for the smell of smoke to enter his nostrils.

It didn’t take long to spot the source of the smell. On the ground was a pile of bones and ash, still smouldering. The hunter’s work, no doubt. The bodies they’d found in the garage were likely next to join the pile.

All the sight did was make the need to get out of Pittsburgh more dire.

Before Peter could ask any questions or see the burning pile, Tony placed a firm hand on his shoulder and steered him up a set of stairs instead. He only let go once they were at the top, a clear view to the bridge Tony aimed to make their escape to.

“Alright, there’s our bridge. That’s our ticket out of h-”

Before he could finish, Peter vaulted over the dented railing and down the short distance to the roof below. Tony could only watch, his heart in his throat when Peter swayed just slightly on his feet.

For a moment, all Tony could think was that a clicker would launch out of the shadows and tear Peter to pieces.

Instead, all Peter did was raise a hand to his bleeding eyebrow with a flinch. He recovered quickly and peered up at Tony, who blinked out of his daze and let a familiar glare warp his features.

“Peter, wait for me.” Tony hissed as he followed the kid down. “Do you have any idea-”

“What?” Peter side-eyed him as he cut Tony off, arms crossed. “I’m right here.”

“How about you let me go first and keep your voice down.”

Peter, voice lowered and mocking, smirked.

“Okay”

Tony sighed, then took a moment to consider their next move. He took one look at Peter and decided that dealing with his injury couldn’t wait any longer.

“Sit down.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

“Okay, fine.” Peter slumped down and sat with his legs crossed. He watched Tony pull off his backpack and followed suit with a confused expression on his face. “What are we doing? The hunters are still looking for us.”

“I know that, brat. I’m fixing you up.”

Tony pulled out his medical kit, the medical kit he saved at the bottom of his pack for anything major like this. The faster he got that wound closed, the faster they could get as far from the hunters as they could.

He grabbed the little rubbing alcohol he had left, a rag, then a needle and cotton.

“How bad does your head hurt?”

“Pretty bad.” Peter’s shoulders hunched a little as he raised a hand to poke at his eyebrow. “Does it look bad?”

“It needs to be stitched up.” Tony poured the rubbing alcohol onto the rag before he turned to Peter. The kid’s eyes flashed with fear, and for a moment, Tony was staring into Morgan’s brown doe eyes. He blinked and the image was gone, but the protectiveness remained. “Ready?”

Peter took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Once he was sure Peter was truly ready, Tony brought the rag forward and started to clean Peter’s wound.

Predictably, the kid flinched violently and let out a string of curses.

“Try and keep still, buddy.” Tony whispered as he concentrated on cleaning the cut the best he could. Peter flinched again, but didn’t pull away and let Tony do his job. Once he was sure he’d cleaned it out adequately, he threaded the needle and prepared to stitch it closed. “Ever been stitched up before?”

Peter shook his head.

“It’ll hurt.” Tony didn’t sugarcoat it. “I’ll try be as quick as I can.”

“Okay.” Peter’s earlier sass was completely gone. “Do you think it’ll scar?”

“Probably.” Tony, laser focussed on Peter’s eyebrow, prepared to insert the needle. “I’m going to start in a second.”

“Well, if it does, I think I’d look pretty cool with an eyebrow scar.” Peter’s voice shook as Tony brought the needle closer. The kid’s eyes remained on him, boring into the side of Tony’s head as he kept on talking. “Ned would’ve loved it.”

“Sure he would’ve, kiddo.” Tony muttered. “Heaps of people have a thing for scars.”

Peter tensed slightly at the words, but Tony didn’t take any notice of it as he inserted the needle. Peter whimpered and almost pulled away, but caught himself last second. To the kid’s credit, he kept it together pretty well as Tony made quick work of stitching up the cut.

Minutes later, he was finished. Peter’s eyes were watery, but Tony didn’t comment as he handed Peter another rag.

“Good job.” Tony watched as Peter wiped as much of the the remaining blood from his face as he could. “You know, before the outbreak, that wouldn’t have hurt. Doctors made shit to take away the pain.”

As he spoke, he packed away the medical kit back into his backpack and made a mental note to get more supplies once this was all over. Once the kid was with the Fireflies, when Tony would be on his own.

If he was honest, he couldn’t see past getting this kid to the Fireflies.

Not when Natasha wasn’t waiting for him back in Boston.

“Thanks for the enlightening information.” Peter muttered, though he was smiling slightly as he raised his hand to poke at the stitches. However, when he saw Tony’s meaningful look, he lowered his hand and shoved it in his pocket instead. “Um… thanks. That didn’t suck.”

Something warm blossomed in Tony’s chest before he could shove it down. He turned away from Peter and pulled his backpack straps over his shoulders to give himself a moment to compose himself. He felt Peter watching him the entire time, and when he turned around to meet the kid’s eyes, there was still so much gratitude shining in them.

Cargo. Nothing more.

-

“I have a super important question.”

Tony sighed as he swam around in the flooded street in search of something for Peter to float on. The water completely engulfed stores, so high that it covered at least half of the street lamps. It was far too high for Peter to stand in, so Tony had to improvise.

Traversing through the city was going just as bad as Tony expected it would.

There were hunters crawling around everywhere, searching the city top to bottom in search of them. For the most part, Tony and Peter managed to steer clear of the bigger groups, but every now and then Tony had to take out a few to move forward. They’d almost been caught on a highway piled up with abandoned cars and skeletons, but the four hunters walked past their hiding spot without a second glance, too busy bickering between themselves.

“What is it?” Tony grumbled as he swam further away from Peter, who stood on the roof of a van floating in the water. “Wait over there.”

“You think I’m going anywhere?” Peter scoffed. “Anyways, my super important question. What’s your favourite colour?”

“Really?” Tony rolled his eyes. When he turned back to check on the kid, Peter had his journal out, pencil in hand. “I don’t know, red.”

“Red. Okay. Makes sense.” Peter wrote down the three letter word. “Okay, what’s your second favourite colour?”

“Is this really the time?”

“What’s your second favourite fucking colour, Tony? This is important!”

Tony spotted a crate floating near an overgrown bridge, the perfect size for Peter to sit on. A plan began to form in his head as he glanced towards an old hotel with a crashed train car beside it, high enough in the water that they could use it to get into the building.

As he swam over to the crate, he thought of the first colour that came to his head.

“Yellow.” He called out, not too loud, but loud enough for Peter to hear. “Let me guess, you want a third? Gre-”

“No, that’s enough. Thanks!”

Tony grabbed the crate and dragged it back to where Peter was scribbling in his journal. As he was bringing it closer to the kid, the sudden screech of tires almost made his heart stop. On the bridge ahead of them, a glimpse of a black Humvee with a mounted gun tore across the road. Not even a second later, there was a loud scream followed by several gunshots.

Tony hastened his swim back to Peter, who had put away his journal and had his eyes locked on the bridge as the Humvee disappeared with another ear-splitting screech. Gone as quick as it had appeared, the air around them fell silent once again.

“What the hell was that all about?” The kid asked as he looked distrustfully at the crate. “Dude, this is worse than last time. There’s no fucking way you’re making me get on that.”

“Hunters. Things are fucking bad out here.” Tony gestured to the crate. “Get on. We’re cutting through the hotel. I won’t let you fall in.”

“Okay…” Peter slowly lowered himself onto the crate. “Ready.”

The crate wasn’t as stable as the pallet in the subway station, but it was enough to transport Peter between the van and the train. He didn’t let go until Peter was safely on top of the train, then swam around for a few minutes trying to find a way up.

Eventually, he found himself inside an old cafe. The hunters had clearly been here, given the crafted pathway that led through the cafe to the truck outside. Peter stood at the far end of the train car as Tony leapt over the small gap, the entire train shaking with his weight when he landed. Thankfully, it didn’t tip, and the pair were able to make it through the hotel window safely.

Tony stopped Peter before he could try and jump down, the drop to the floor bigger than any of the drops so far. It was easy for Tony to drop to the floor with practised ease, but he was sure Peter, who still had the odd fear of high jumps, would hesitate.

“It’s all clear, come on down.”

Tony turned around and readied himself to help Peter. The kid had already sat down, his legs dangling off the side as he peered at Tony. He didn’t say anything, just gestured for Peter to jump. After a few more seconds hesitation, Peter jumped, and Tony was able to break his fall without so much as a wince.

It was much better when Tony knew Peter needed his help, rather than the kid tumbling down unprepared.

“Thanks.” Peter muttered as he stepped away from Tony to look around. “Woah, fancy. Did you ever stay in a place like this? Before the world went to shit, I mean.”

Tony had, plenty of times. Before Morgan and moving to Texas, he and Pepper would go on holidays all over the world, to the fanciest of hotels and penthouses. Whether it be for Stark Industries business, or just pleasure, it was one of Tony’s favourite things to do with his wife. That, along with going to his own estates, ones that Tony inherited when his parents died.

“Yeah.” Tony made his way over to the old reception desks that still had computer monitors mounted on top of them. What once was a luxurious hotel, was now nothing but a place filled with murky water and destroyed furniture. There was even the possibility of infected deep within the building, most likely clickers. He doubted the hunters were brave enough to go into the basement to clear it out. “Couple times.”

“Really? Were you rich?”

“Some people might’ve said that.”

“Wait, hold on.” Peter gaped, then immediately rushed over to him and practically threw his backpack onto the reception desk. The old monitor, decayed from years of sitting in the weather, cracked under the sudden pressure. Peter didn’t seem to notice as he grabbed his journal and pencil. “Are you saying you were a millionaire? Were you famous?”

“What, does that shit matter to you?” Tony tried to peer into Peter’s notebook, but the kid yanked it out of sight. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Peter sniggered as he wrote, tongue poking out in concentration. “I can’t believe I got stuck with an old millionaire smuggler.”

“I never anything about being a millionaire.” Tony snapped and chose to ignore the old comment. “Stop writing in that thing, we have to keep moving.”

“This is crucial information for your superhero alias.” Peter finished whatever it is he was writing and snapped the notebook shut. “Trust me, it’s going to be perfect.”

Tony just stared at the kid for a moment.

“You’re a weird kid.”

Peter scoffed. “You’re a weird kid.”

Tony decided he was done encouraging the teen’s strange behaviour and walked away from the reception and deeper into the foyer. The stairs to the second floor were completely destroyed, a mess of debris that would be impossible to traverse over. While he looked around for something to get them up, Peter continued to linger around the reception desks, muttering under his breath as he attempted to push a luggage trolley through the calf-deep water.

While Peter screwed around, Tony found a ladder to prop against the side of the second floor.

He made his way up first to check out the area, pleased when there was nothing but dirt and plants.

“Alright, Spider-Man, stop playing around and get up here.”

Tony wished he didn’t have to stop Peter from playing, of all things. The kid had never seen a or been in a hotel in his entire life, he’d never been out of the fucking zone until now.

Maybe that was the best, given everything he’d seen in just the last few days.

Something in his chest twisted as Peter jumped off the luggage trolley and made his way over. Despite the peril they were in, Peter was excited, thinking about superhero names and pretending to be a customer at the hotel.

“Coming!” Peter started up the ladder. “Spider-Man coming to the rescue.”

Peter giggled to himself as he climbed to the second floor. Tony started up the rest of the staircase that hadn’t been destroyed, which soon opened out to an old balcony with a greenhouse on top. The entire place was overgrown, the grass almost waist height as they walked through.

Thankfully, there was no hunters or infected in sight as they made their way back into the main hotel hallway, the space filled with boxes, empty weapon crates and debris from before the outbreak. Once, these hallways would have been spotless, pristine. Now, it was nothing but a place for the hunters to hide their weapons.

The deeper they got into the hotel, the more on edge Tony felt as he listened for any signs of movement. Peter kept close, his flashlight out as the windows had become too boarded up for any light to make it through.

Once they made it to an elevator shaft, Tony knew they had to take the opportunity of a shortcut.

Slowly, Tony squeezed through the gap between the doors and dropped down on top of the elevator, the wires screeching underneath his weight. When it held, he gestured for Peter to follow, and together they squeezed behind the metal beam to gain access to the second elevator.

This time, when Tony dropped down, the elevator shook dangerously, the wires straining to keep it steady. Quickly, he ushered Peter down and knelt on one knee to boost the kid up back into the building, one floor lower than they had been before.

“You go up first and find me something to climb on, okay?”

Peter nodded and took a deep breath.

Peter stepped into Tony’s cupped hands with one foot and stretched out to grab the ledge, his short frame doing him no favours as Tony boosted him up. Throughout the whole process, the elevator creaked and groaned dangerously, wobbling just enough that it made Tony uneasy and more eager to get the kid safe. Just when Peter’s right leg made it over the ledge, a sickening crack echoed around the elevator shaft, and at the same time, Tony felt his feet go out from under him.

One of the wires had snapped, unable to hold his weight any longer.

As he and the elevator fell, all Tony could hear was Peter’s desperate calls.

There was only one thought going through his head before he hit the water at the bottom of the shaft.

He’d failed another kid.

Just like he’d failed Morgan and his baby boy.

Chapter Text

“Tony? Tony!”

Peter’s panicked yells echoed down the elevator shaft the moment Tony emerged from the water at the bottom. He heaved in deep breaths, adrenaline in full force as he peered up the shaft, just able to see Peter watching him from the top.

“I’m alright!” He called back. “Are you okay?”

“No!” Peter snapped incredulously. “You scared the shit outta of me!”

Tony took several more deep breaths to calm his racing heart as he looked around. Thankfully, his flashlight had stayed latched onto his backpack strap, and flicked on with ease. There was a gap big enough to slip through into the room the elevator connected to.

“I’m- I’m gonna climb down there, okay? Like- like Spider-Man!”

“No!” Tony shouted, the word coming out angrier than he intended. The water was too deep for Peter to stand in, and Tony could already tell just by looking at his surroundings that he wouldn’t be able to drag Peter around. That aside, the drop alone could kill the kid. It nearly damn well killed him. “Just stay up there, I’ll find my way up to you.”

Tony could hear the panicked sounds Peter was making above, and each sound sent a jolt of pain through him.

“Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to me baby girl, come on…”

Morgan’s cries and his own voice echoed around his skull. Peter’s whimpers, borderline cries, was eerily similar to Morgan. Similar enough that Tony was barely able to stave off the panic attack that wanted so desperately to break free.

“I’ll find my way up.” Tony repeated when Peter didn’t say anything. “Okay, kiddo?”

“Okay.” Peter called back, his voice shaky. “Just… don’t do anything stupid!”

“I’ll try!”

With that, Tony set his mind on finding a way out and back to the kid.

He couldn’t stand the thought of Peter being up there, alone, with so many hunters in the area.

If a group of hunters snuck up on the kid, he would have no chance against them, even with his bow and arrow. Tony highly doubted those hunters would give a shit that Peter was just a kid. To them, he was an intruder. An intruder with clothes and supplies to steal.

The further he travelled through the dark, flooded basement, the harder it became to navigate. He found a staircase completely submerged with murky water, trash and debris floating around in the depths. Unlike the water outside, the water down here was freezing. It was a risk in itself to even consider going under but he had no other option if he wanted to get back to the kid. Tony steeled himself, took a deep breath and submerged himself into the freezing water.

Using the handrails to boost himself, Tony swam as quickly as he could. While he couldn’t see too well in the green-tinged water, he could see and feel enough to know exactly what was floating around down here. It was an odd mix of trash, debris and human bodies. He didn’t want to think about how these people died.

Just as his lungs started to burn with the need to breathe, Tony found an opening. The next room he found himself in was just as trashed, but he found something promising in the form of a locked gate.

Making it past the gate was the problem. No matter how much force Tony used, it wouldn’t budge.

Eventually, after some more searching, Tony discovered a gaping hole in the floor, and didn’t hesitate to take his chances. Tony pushed past more bodies and trash in the dirty water, stomach churning with nausea as he swam through what used to be a hallway. It didn’t take long for him to find another opening.

It was now shallow enough to stand. As Tony made his way through the waist-deep water, he discovered that he’d made it to the other side of the gate.

Just as he was about to celebrate the small victory, he spotted the last thing he wanted to see.

Spores lingering out of a doorway. The only fucking doorway.

“Fucking hell.” He muttered to himself as he yanked his backpack off and dug around for his gas mask. “Just what I needed.”

Once the mask was secure around his face, Tony stepped through the doorway and into the spore infested hallway. The first thing he spotted was a clicker fused to the wall, emitting a sickening amount of spores. Tony stared at the thing, completely unrecognisable as a human. Thankfully, it was too far gone to attack Tony. It was dead, permanently.

Tony looked away from the mess and continued forward. He had to duck under some debris, but that was the least of his worries when he heard the sickening sound of infected the second he emerged into the much larger hallway with several doorways. He was still deep in the basement of the hotel, most likely somewhere around the laundry and electrical rooms.

The infected’s screech was harsh in the silence, but when nothing followed, a rock settled in Tony’s stomach. Rats ran past him in a frenzied haste, as if they knew what horrors were lingering in the darkness ahead.

Tony thought of Peter, somewhere multiple floors above him, completely alone. He pressed forward with extra care, handgun out and ready for anything that might be hiding in the basement with him. Spores made the air thick and toxic, the particles floating in Tony’s flashlight as he turned right through the closest doorway.

The second he stepped into the room, he heard the shuffle of feet, followed by a near-silent snarl that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. From the second his foot past the threshold, he felt like he was being watched.

Tony stood completely still and used his flashlight to look around the room. In the back corner was a generator, the walls around it covered with cordyceps that had manifested over the years. His stomach rolled as he continued to sweep the room, and just as he expected, he spotted a shadow caused by the light. Not even a second later, a stalker peeked around the corner of its hiding place, its last remaining eye staring right at Tony.

If Peter was here, he would be shitting himself.

There was no time to get anything useful from his backpack. If he so much as moved, the stalkers would be on him. There was definitely more than one here, lurking in the spore-infested room, waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack. The half-clickers, half-runners were especially talented at being quiet, but every now and then they would let out an uncontrollable click or a groan that would give away their positions.

Tony grabbed the closest thing in reach, a piece of broken tile, and hurled it as far as he could in the opposite direction to where he was standing. As he expected, the stalkers immediately kicked into gear and raced in the direction of the smash, three of them emerging from the darkness to investigate.

If Tony had a molotov right now, the job would’ve been easy. Instead, he unhooked his shotgun and unloaded one shot into the closest stalker, which flew backwards with the force of the bullets and landed with a thud. The other two scattered, scrambling through the shallow layer of water that covered the floor, using their hands to propel themselves.

As the things tumbled towards him on all fours, Tony was briefly reminded of those terrible horror movies he’d seen back before the outbreak.

Both stalkers were headed towards Tony, so he unloaded another spray of bullets from the shotgun that was enough to severely injure the closest stalker. When he pulled the trigger again, the shotgun did nothing but click. There was no time to reload, and without hesitation, Tony turned on his heel and took off in a sprint.

Stalkers were just as fast-paced as runners. There was no chance Tony was going to be able to outrun them, so he dropped the empty shotgun and grabbed the closet thing he could find that could be a weapon. He ended up with a metal pole. He wasted no time in clocking the wounded stalker across the head with it, blood splattering everywhere as the thing listed sideways.

Just as Tony ended what was left of the stalker with the metal pole, he spotted the second stalker scurry back into the darkness.

Tony was used to this behaviour from stalkers, but it never got any less unsettling. They would hunt and stalk their prey until the prime moment to attack, far more alert than any clicker. It was almost impossible to sneak up on a stalker. Stalkers were smart, despite the cordyceps infecting their brains. It had likely hidden itself again because it liked the hunt.

Tony used the same technique to reveal the stalker’s location and pulled out his handgun the second it ran out. Several shots later, the body was down, and he could finally get back to exploring the basement. After he picked up the shotgun and hooked it back on his backpack, he made his way up a collapsed piece of ceiling to the second floor, handgun still raised as he made his way through the hotel’s laundromat. The room was a mess of cordyceps, along with old clothes hanging out of the washing machines.

The laundromat was only the beginning, however.

When he exited the laundromat, he stepped into a hallway that was covered head to toe in cordyceps.

The infection protruded from every wall, even the ceiling, the substance squelching under Tony’s boots as he made his way through the deformed hallway. The spores were thicker here, multiple infected fused into the walls, hopefully dead.

Through the mess of infection, he could see his exit. The door was covered in infection, the door handle the only thing that was visible. Tony pulled on the door handle, unsurprised when it didn’t budge. Tony put his whole weight against the door in the hopes that it would give in, but the piece of shit didn’t even creak. Grumbling under his breath, he spotted a keycard pad, half obscured by the cordyceps.

That keypad was his only chance. After a long, excruciating ten minutes later, Tony managed to find a keycard buried underneath debris on a desk in a small office.

Now, the generator.

He was taking too long. Tony was too far down to hear if anything was happening to the kid, the space around him eerily quiet as he made his way back down to the lower level to start the generator.

If he couldn’t get it working, Tony had no idea what he was going to do. This was his only way out.

He yanked don the cord as hard as he could, heart pounding as he waited for it to come to life.

It took several aggressive tugs for the the old thing to finally splutter to life. The noise it made made Tony on edge, and as soon as the lights flickered on, Tony broke into a run back upstairs and back through the laundromat. Just as he stepped back into the infection-covered hallway, he heard a loud crash somewhere deep within the basement, then a guttural roar that told Tony he had to swipe this fucking keycard now.

There was a bloater, likely having been hidden behind one of the blockades, that had been awoken by the loud rattle of the generator. There was no questioning that the thing had smashed through whatever blockade it was stuck behind and was on its way towards the sound.

The roar of the bloater wasn’t the only thing he heard. There was more than just a bloater and the stalkers he’d killed down here.

Tony hastily swiped the keycard, then swore violently when it failed. He could hear the bloater coming, its footsteps thundering around the basement as Tony swiped the keycard again. To his relief, the light went green, and the door unlocked.

At the same time, a stalker rounded the corner. Tony fired one shot to slow it down then threw himself at the door to break through the crusted infection around it. As the door flew open, he was just able to catch a glimpse of the bloater as it came around the corner before he slammed the door shut. He dragged an old recycling bin in front of the door just in case, chest heaving as he braced his hands on his knees to catch his breath. The stalker slammed its body on the door, screaming and wailing, followed by another one of the bloater’s sickening growls.

He wasn’t a fan of sticking around just in case the infected broke through the door and immediately started up the stairs. Tony waited until he was at the top of the stairs to take his mask off, the air now clear of spores.

His thoughts were clouded with the need to get to Peter as he tore through the hotel, adrenaline thrumming through his veins as he practically stumbled into what used to be the hotel’s kitchen. The place was trashed, as expected, a lone clicker ambling around the space.

However, before Tony could even think of an approach, he heard unfamiliar voices followed by a gunshot. He winced, the bang echoing around the kitchen painfully.

“It’s down, finish it!”

“I got it!”

“Nicely done. Any bites?”

“Not today. You?”

“Not today. Alright, spread out and make sure we didn’t miss any more of these fuckers. Pretty sure I heard a bloater down there.”

Hunters.

Wherever Peter was, Tony hoped it was somewhere safe and far away from here. Worry for the kid was almost consuming, yet all he could do was internally curse himself for getting attached.

Tony thought of Natasha and what she would say if he knew he was thinking like this. She was probably watching him right now, telling him to just get the job done. He was doing this for her. Taking the kid to the Fireflies was Natasha’s dying wish. All for those fucking guns he didn’t even care about anymore.

All this, for a crate of guns owned by his dead friend. Without her, they meant very little to him.

Peter was the cargo.

Yet, deep down, Tony knew Peter was becoming more than just simply cargo. The protective feeling that hadn’t quite left him since his family’s death reared its ugly head at him, edging him forwards, reminding him that Peter was still out there relying on him to get them out of this hell. Tony was all Peter had right now and there was no way he’d make it out of the city on his own.

Taking out the hunters was simple. He took both down by stealth, both dead before they could alert any others or each other of Tony’s presence. Blood soaked Tony’s clothes as he made his way through the kitchen, snagging ammo from the dead hunters as he went. There were two more lingering in the dining room, guns raised, eyes roving around the room. It wouldn’t be long before they realised their friends in the kitchen were dead so he had to be quick.

Tony snuck up on one and yanked him backwards behind a table. Once his neck snapped under his hold, he made his way towards the second one and took him out with a crack to the back of the head. The body slumped to the floor, motionless, and provided Tony with a few minutes of reprieve.

He grabbed a ladder nearby a crater filled with water, presumably left behind by the hunters given the decent condition of the appliance, and leant it against the ledge of the floor above. Yellow light shone through the dirty windows, bathing the room in sunlight as he made his way up. He should be getting closer to the kid now.

However, before he could reach the top, he heard quick footsteps on the approach.

There was no time to react. A hunter jumped down to the ledge in front of him and kicked Tony square in the face.

Dazed by the blinding pain across his nose, Tony couldn’t keep his grip on the ladder. He fell backwards and landed in the crater, head briefly submerged in the water. He scrambled to get up, but he was too slow, the hunter’s weight already on top him. Two hands wrapped around his neck, legs straddling his hips as his head was forced back under the water.

Tony struggled, thrashing his body under the weight as water entered his lungs. He managed to free one arm to punch the man in the face, but just as he was able to get some air back into his lungs, the hunter grabbed him again and flipped him over.

This time, the mans hand was on the back of his neck when he shoved Tony’s head back under, his knees digging into his back as he desperately tried to get free. The hunter’s other hand wrapped around his wrist and pinned it to the ground, preventing him from being bale to get to any of his weapons. Even if he could reach, the chance of firing a fatal shot was limited.

More water flooded through his mouth, his throat constricting and chest aching as his vision darkened at the edges. The longer the hunter held him down, the weaker he got, and the more light headed he became. Tony could feel his body physically giving up, but his mind was still running a mile a minute

He was going to die. He was too weak, too fucking old, to get the hunter off of him.

He was going to drown, and Peter was going to be left alone.

If he died, he was going to sentence Peter to death as well.

If Peter died, that’s on him.

Just when he thought his death was really here, the hunter’s weight on his body suddenly disappeared. Tony shot out of the water with a violent, hoarse cough, water spilling from his mouth as he greedily choked in air. His head snapped around in search of his attacker, only to find the man flat on his stomach to the side, an arrow sticking out of the side of his head. Blood tinged the water red, the man’s head half submerged in the water Tony had just been drowning in.

When Tony noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, he whipped around prepared to attack, only for his eyes to find a familiar face.

Peter, bow still raised in a trembling hand, stared at the body.

When the kid noticed Tony was looking at him, he seemed to snap out of it.

“Man… I shot the hell out of that guy, huh?”

Peter slumped onto a nearby crate, bow still held tight in one hand. He was pale, his eyebrows creased in a way that he thought the kid might cry, but the tears never came. Instead, the boy just bent over and rubbed a hand over his face, wincing when his finger brushed over the stitches on his eyebrow.

“I feel sick.”

Tony took a moment to breathe as they both collectively processed what had just happened.

Something heavy settled on Tony’s chest as he watched Peter shake like a leaf in front of him. It was likely the first time Peter had killed a living human, and that alone sparked a deep anger in him. It wasn’t directed at the kid, but more at himself for letting this happen.

He hadn’t even heard the hunter coming.

Fuck, Peter had to kill to save him. A kid had to kill to save him.

Tony’s heart seized in warning of an incoming panic attack, but he forced it back and turned away from the kid to collect himself. They couldn’t stay around here for long, more hunters would be on the way to avenge their dead friends. They needed to get out of this goddamn fucking city.

He should have just turned that fucking truck around, what was he thinking?

If Natasha was here, she never would have let that slide. She always thought with a much clearer head than him.

“Uh… Tony?” Peter spoke up from behind him, voice as shaky as his hands. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… alright.” Tony took a deep breath and turned around to face the kid. His anger simmered when he saw the panicked look in Peter’s eyes, which constantly darted to the body on the ground, arrow still protruding from its skull. Tony stepped in Peter’s view, hopefully enough to hide the gruesome sight they’d both seen so many times before. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” The kid’s grip around the bow was white-knuckled. “I’m fine, I’m fine…”

Tony lowered himself to the ground, aware that they couldn’t linger around. However, his chest was still heaving, his vision still slightly speckled with stars. He rested a hand over his pounding heart and closed his eyes, his other hand braced against the dirty floor.

When he opened his eyes again, Peter’s eyes were glassy. His gaze was back on the body, but it was like he wasn’t seeing anything at all. His mouth was pressed in a firm line, but he was breathing quickly, almost as quickly as Tony.

The state of the kid triggered something within Tony to start speaking.

“The thing is, I didn’t hear that guy coming.” Peter rapidly blinked as soon as Tony started speaking, focus returning. The glassy, traumatised look in his eyes receded, but it wasn’t quite gone. He looked away from Peter for a moment, hand still resting on his chest. “You shouldn’t have had to…”

Tony’s jaw clamped shut, unable to force the words out.

“Well, you’re glad I did, right?”

When Tony looked back at Peter, he saw Morgan’s. They were the same, but completely different.

“You’re just a kid. You shouldn’t know what it means to-” Tony cut himself off as Peter’s eyes drifted back to the body. On instinct, he shifted in front of it so the kid couldn’t see, thankful when Peter’s eyes returned to his. “I know what it’s like, the first time you… hurt someone like that.”

Tony had never forgotten the first time he killed someone. The first time he killed a living, breathing human. When he shot Yinsen, the man was already far gone into the infection that there was no coming back.

It was just days after the outbreak and Tony had been a mess. An uncontrollable, inconsolable, broken mess. The second he saw Pepper, the second Morgan’s heart stopped, Tony was never the same. In those precise moments, his fate was sealed.

He’d been with Rhodey at the time, desperately trying to find supplies before they left Texas for good. A raider tried to steal their car and supplies by attempting to kill the both of them, and Tony had to stop him.

He still remembered the look on Rhodey’s face and how horrified his best friend had been. He still remembered that feeling. The horrible, terrible feeling of knowing what he’d just done, and that there was no way to reverse it. That feeling had only been dulled as the years went by, the world too unforgiving to dwell on it.

Rhodey made his first kill only days later, and Tony would never forget that day, either.

In a way, it was worse than his own first kill.

He never wanted to see the people he loved this way.

At his words, Peter seemed to flinch and curl into himself. Suddenly, the kid’s eyes spilled over with tears, and Tony wasn’t sure what he’d done to trigger that reaction. Before he could say anything, Peter hastily dropped his bow wiped the tears away, seemingly frustrated with himself.

“It wasn’t my first time.”

Tony’s brain short-circuited. Peter wiped his face again, lower lip wobbling with the effort to keep himself together. The few seconds of silence felt like hours, and all Tony could do was wonder what the hell this kid had gone through before they met.

How could he possibly have killed someone when he’d lived in that boarding school his whole life?

Tony picked up his gun that had fallen out of his jeans into the crater and put it away, choosing to ignore the dark red water. He eased himself back into a standing position, his left knee cracking with the effort as walked the short distance towards Peter.

He bent down to pick up the bow and handed it back to Peter.

“We have to keep moving, kiddo.” Tony tried to keep his voice level, but it still came out hoarse. “There’ll be more of them on their way, we can’t stay any longer.”

“Okay.” Peter sniffed and wiped his face again. “Got it.”

When the kid was on his feet, Tony rested his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. At first, Peter tensed at the touch, but quickly relaxed and offered the tiniest of smiles at Tony. Tony couldn’t give him one in return, but the sentiment was there.

Before the outbreak, maybe he would’ve wiped Peter’s tears and given him a hug.

But Peter wasn’t Morgan. He wasn’t his son.

Tony was not this kid’s father, and he hadn’t been a father in a long, long time.

Still, the old paternal instinct within him festered. Before he could give into it, he removed his hand from Peter’s shoulder and used it to gesture to the ladder instead.

“You first, bud.”

As he waited for Peter ascend the ladder, Tony saw Morgan.

Morgan, curled up in bed with Tony wiping her tears after a nightmare.

His heart continued to pound, quick and violent, panic brimming in his throat. His lungs still hadn’t quite recovered from the near-drowning, but there was no time to wait.

He couldn’t let his guard down again.

-

Unlike usual, Peter was quiet.

Silent.

He followed Tony around, hands clenched in fists, his eyes nervously darting all around as they made their way through several buildings and streets. They encountered several hunters, but together, they were able to take most of them out without an issue. Peter mostly hung behind Tony, bow and arrow raised just in case, a determined furrow to his brow.

Tony didn’t miss the way the kid’s hands continued to tremble, or the way he hunched in on himself when the fighting started. Guilt pulled at Tony’s heartstrings every time. Peter was no doubt traumatised, if not more traumatised, from having to kill that hunter to save Tony. Knowing that it wasn’t even his first kill made Tony want to ask hundreds of questions, questions that would most likely upset Peter.

He ended up abiding by his own rules.

They keep their histories to themselves.

After a particularly gruelling fight with a bunch of hunters, Peter finally spoke.

“Hey, it’s another one.”

“What?”

“Another one of these posters. They’re everywhere.”

Tony looked up to see what Peter was looking at, only for his chest to constrict.

Dawn of the Wolf, Part 2.

The poster was ripped and shredded in most places, but the title was still completely legible. It was a movie in the same league as Twilight, movies that Tony would rather die than watching back before the outbreak.

Now he’d much rather watch a hundred shitty romance movies if it meant he could see his family again.

“I saw this right before the outbreak.”

Peter’s head snapped in Tony’s direction, eyes wide, incredulous.

“You did? Did he totally gut her by the end?”

“No one gets gutted. It’s a… it’s a dumb teen movie.”

“Oh. Who dragged you to see it then?”

The question pained Tony a whole lot more than he wanted to admit. Pepper and Morgan had made him see it, pestering him constantly that it would be the best movie he’d ever seen. It was, in fact, not the best movie he’d ever seen. But, he’d do anything for his girls.

He would give anything to go back to watching terrible teen movies with his family.

“I don’t know.” Tony huffed, unable to look at the poster any longer. He turned around and started walking without waiting for Peter’s reaction. “Let’s get going.”

Peter just sighed.

“You can remember seeing this shit, but you can’t remember if you saw Star Wars. Man.”

“Maybe it wasn’t good enough to remember.”

“Dude!” Peter snapped. Suddenly, as if the last hour hadn’t happened, Peter’s usual snark was back as he glared fiercely at Tony. “Star Wars is like the best thing ever. Well, Ned told me it was, but he was always right about things so I believed him! It’s definitely better than that shit.”

“Woah, steady there, Underoos.” Tony raised his hands in mock defence as they started down an alleyway. For once, it was clear of trash and debris, the only thing occupying the space being a car at the very end of the lane. “You really like Star Wars, huh?”

“Underoos? What the fuck?” Peter snapped, nose scrunched in disgust. However, his eyes were as bright as ever, no longer holding that glassy look they’d obtained since he killed the hunter. Tony was grateful for the change, as much as getting attached to the kid still weighed him down heavily. “Would I carry around Star Wars comics if I didn’t like Star Wars?”

“Yeah, Underoos. That’s what I imagine Spider-Man would look like.”

“Hey!” Peter snapped. “Spider-Man’s suit would look awesome, it wouldn’t look like underwear!”

“Whatever you say, kid.”

“God, you’re so annoying.” Peter whined. “I’m going to add that to your superhero trait list. Annoying. Then, I’m going to add-”

Peter was cut off by the sound of screeching tires in the distance. Both of them flinched as the sound echoed around them, Tony wasting no time in looking for cover. He grabbed Peter by the wrist as they dove into an old store, keeping ahold of the kid as he peered through the front window. Half of it was boarded up, but there was just enough of a gap to see through.

A Humvee, possibly the same one they had seen earlier with a gun mounted on the top, tore into the street with a loud screech. On the front, the words RUN where written in white spray paint, as if it was a taunt for their victims. It was followed by another truck, filled with hunters that spilled into the street the second it stopped.

“Shit.” Tony muttered as the hunters started to spread out, starting idle conversations with each other as if this was just another normal day. Another normal day of slaughtering anyone, like Tony and Peter, who had the misfortune to enter the city. “You stay right next to me. The second that car sees us, it’s going to shoot.”

Peter peered at the Humvee, terrified. “How are we going to outrun that thing?”

“I’ll find a way. Don’t use your bow unless you absolutely have to.”

Tony pulled out the shotgun and used this chance to reload. The last remaining bullets clicked into place, thankfully unheard by the hunters outside, who were too lost in their conversation about a recent stash of canned bacon they found to notice. The shotgun would be a last resort, which he hooked back onto his backpack before he grabbed his handgun instead. Peter had an arrow ready, though Tony could see that his hands were trembling.

He was scared, he was relying on Tony to get him through this.

At first, things were going okay. Tony and Peter managed to sneak through the side door of the store, the Humvee and its inhabitants oblivious to them as they weaved there way past. Tony took out two hunters on his way through strangulation, Peter watching on with wide eyes that kept flickering to the menacing Humvee. Its engine was running, the driver still inside ready to take off at the second they spotted their victims. There was no doubt someone on the mounted gun, given the way it was spinning around surveying the area.

Everything went to plan until Tony miscalculated. Just as he jumped up to take out another unsuspecting hunter, the Humvee’s mounted gun spun in their direction. There was no much more of a yell before the gun started to fire, bullets tearing up everything in its path as Tony threw himself to the ground. Peter yelled out behind him, the kid’s hand reaching for his in the midst of the panic.

The Humvee managed to take out its own guy in the process, the man that Tony had intended to take out a bloodied mess on the floor.

With their cover blown, there was no choice but to run. They sprinted towards the closest store, which contained another hunter inside. The fuckers were everywhere, almost like the infection, guns raised and ready to shoot. At the same time, the Humvee’s bullets shattered the windows, the sound so loud that Tony was sure he’d become deaf after this.

Tony picked up a wooden plank as he ran forward and didn’t hesitate to swing at the man. Thankfully, the hunter went down without a fight, and he continued to drag Peter along who was yelling behind him.

“What the fuck are they shooting at us with?!”

“Some kind of military turret, just stay down!”

They ran out of the store and around the back, where another hunter fired at them. The bullet whizzed past Tony’s head and landed in the brick wall behind him, another brush with death that was too close for comfort. He fired blindly and the bullet missed, but it was enough to make the hunter duck. Tony used the brief opportunity to take the woman by surprise and hit her in the nose with the butt of his gun. As expected, she crumbled with a cry, the sound of the Humvee reversing on the other side of the building overpowering it.

Bullets rained down on them as they ran between the gap of the buildings, just able to slip into the next building before the Humvee could smash through the weak barbed wire fencing that separated them. Tony and Peter were both heaving with exhaustion, Peter barely able to stand once he had the chance to breath.

“Come on, Pete. We have to keep going.” Tony urged as he pulled the asthmatic along. He wanted to stop, but with the threatening military vehicle outside, there wasn’t enough time. “Just hold on a little longer.”

“I’m t-trying.” Peter heaved, his grip on Tony’s hand almost like a vice. “T-they’re fucking insane!”

Tony led Peter up a few floors of the apartment building, the Humvee still stalking aggressively outside. The hunters were screaming at each other, berating each other for letting Tony and Peter get out of their sight. While they fought down below, Tony helped Peter out onto an old fire escape just as the Humvee drove by, oblivious to their presence above them.

“T-Tony!” Peter coughed as he tried to dart back into the cover of the apartment. “The c-car.”

“Don’t worry, we’re too high up. They can’t see us.”

With their backs pressed against the wall, the two of them shuffled across the gap between apartment buildings and jumped through the window opposite to the one they exited. Much like the previous apartment, it was completely trashed, furniture piled up in front of the doors to prevent intruders. The window was smashed, revealing another fire escape they could use.

Peter continued to wheeze behind him, his face incredibly red. Tony silently begged him to hold on a little longer as he once again helped the kid onto the fire escape, then moved along the side of the building with his back pressed against the wall.

The Humvee drove by once again, turret spinning around in search of them. It continued on without noticing them, much to Tony’s relief. He slipped through the window of the next apartment, adrenaline beginning to wear off as he turned around to help Peter through, urgent on getting that medicine into his lungs. Out of all the times Peter has needed his inhaler, this seemed to be the most dire.

Peter had never struggled this much.

However, before he could even extend a hand, someone grabbed him from behind and yanked him out of reach.

Just his fucking luck.

The person wrapped an arm around his neck and yanked, much like Tony would do to his enemies. He immediately threw all his weight back onto the attacker and hurled him into the back wall, but still, his grip didn’t loosen.

As Tony grabbed with the man, Peter managed to get himself through the window, switchblade in hand as he swiped at the possible hunter. The attacker, a man, hissed in pain as the blade sliced his forearm, momentarily distracted. Tony used Peter’s distraction as a chance to slam the man harder into the wall. An old picture frame that had been hanging there snapped and fell to the ground with a smash, along with the man as Tony broke free and hurled him to the ground.

Purely working on instinct, along with the voice in his head screaming protect the kid, Tony pinned the man down and punched.

He punched, and punched, and punched, until Peter’s wheezy cries broke through.

“T-Tony, T-Tony stop!” Peter yelled as loud as he could. Tony stopped and turned to the kid, who was already in the process digging through his backpack. However, his eyes were focussed on something past Tony. “L-Look!”

Tony looked, and there she was. A little girl, maybe around Peter’s age, with dark skin and dark hair. She had a handgun pointed directly at him, her gaze fierce, but scared. Like Peter, her hands trembled as she held the weapon.

“Leave him alone!” The girl’s tone was even, despite her fear.

“Easy, easy.” Tony raised both hands in surrender and backed away from the man. Instinctively, he stepped in front of Peter, who continued to rifle through his backpack. The wheezing sounded like it was getting worse. “Just take it easy.”

The man on the ground immediately turned to the girl.

“It’s alright, they’re not the bad guys. Lower the gun.” The man coughed a little as he sat up, wincing. “Man, you hit hard.”

“Yeah, well, I was trying to kill you.” Tony growled. “Thought you were one of those fucking psychos out there.”

The man got to his feet and stood in front of the girl, much like Tony was stood in front of Peter.

“Yeah, I thought you were one of them too.” The man’s eyes flickered over to Peter, and to Tony’s surprise, they softened. Peter finally took his first puff of the inhaler, much to both of their relief. “Then I saw you. If you haven’t noticed, they don’t keep kids that young around. Survival of the fittest and all.”

Tony merely shrugged, unwilling to mention the teenage hunter they’d encountered after they crashed. The man turned to the girl, his sister or daughter, he had no idea. They had the same dark skin and dark hair, but his was buzzed. Whatever relation they were to each other, they were clearly close, given the way the man immediately wrapped an arm around her after removing the gun from her hand.

“You’re bleeding.” The girl whispered, her eyes darting to Peter, glaring. “Is it deep? He hurt you.”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry. He didn’t know we weren’t hunters.” The man assured her as he moved to open her backpack. He rummaged through it for a while before he retrieved a bandage. As he wrapped it around his bleeding forearm, he regarded Tony and Peter. “I’m Sam, this is Sarah. I think I caught your name was Tony?”

Tony nodded.

Peter waved awkwardly.

“I’m Peter.”

“How many are with you?” Tony asked.

The girl, Sarah, side-eyed Sam.

“They’re all dead.”

“Hey, we don’t know that.” Sam’s voice was stern, and silent words seemed to be exchanged between the pair before he turned back to Tony. “There were a bunch of us. Someone had the brilliant idea of entering the city to look for supplies, but those fuckers ambushed us. Scattered us. Now it’s about getting out of this shithole.”

Chances were, Sam and Sarah’s group were all dead, just like Sarah said. Tony didn’t want to feel optimistic of their chances, not with everything they’d just been through.

“We could help each other-”

“Peter-”

“Safety in numbers and all that!”

When Tony fixed Peter with a glare, Sam interrupted.

“He’s right. We could help each other.” Sam wrapped his arm back around Sarah’s shoulder, and act of comfort she definitely needed. Tony watched her lean into Sam’s side, eyes downcast. It was likely she’d seen far too much for her age, just like Peter. Just like every other kid born into this world. “We have a hideout not to far out from here, it would be safer if we talked there.”

Tony hesitated, not liking his choices.

One, he takes Sam up on the offer, they get killed.

Two, they go back out there and get mowed down by the Humvee the second they stepped outside.

“Alright, take us there.”

“Great.” Sam actually smiled. “Follow me.”

Sam released Sarah and disappeared through the doorway. Only then did Tony realise what room they had stumbled into.

Once he saw it, he couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

A crib, still in decent condition, was stationed against the far wall. An animal mobile hung over the top of it, which would have once been a comfort for the baby that lived here. Tony aimlessly made his way over to it and rested his hand on the railing, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight.

The crib was stationed in the master bedroom, no doubt where the baby’s parents slept.

If things had worked out, this is what reality would have been for him and Pepper. A crib in their bedroom, just like they’d done with Morgan, for the first few sleepless months. Tony would have pulled his son from the crib and held him tight against his chest. He would have fed and changed him while Pepper got to sleep, which he would playfully scold her for in the morning. He would have soothed his son’s cries, despite how tired he was himself.

He could almost see it. He’d seen it in his dreams, he’d seen it in his nightmares in all different variations.

Tony could almost see his beautiful family, all together, complete.

Distantly, he could hear Peter and Sarah apologising to each other about the gun and the switchblade, but all he could do was stare at the crib and tune the kid’s words out.

This could have been his life if his wasn’t upturned.

His son would have been here. Alive.

He would be an adult.

Wherever this baby ended up, it was likely they didn’t survive.

Not many did.

“Tony?” Tony blinked and turned his head in the direction of the voice. Of course, it was Peter, peering up at him with his inquisitive brown eyes that reminded him too much of his daughter. “Are you… okay? What are you doing?”

Tony realised his grip was far too tight around the crib’s railing. His knuckles were aching.

“Nothing.” Tony shook himself out of it, his gaze now on the animal themed mobile. Eventually, he forced himself to look away and look at Peter instead. “Nothing, kiddo.”

Peter looked at the crib again, before he looked at Tony. He opened his mouth, most likely going to ask the obvious question, but then seemed to think better of it. Tony couldn’t have been more grateful. He had no idea how he would have reacted if Peter asked that question.

“You two coming or what?” Sam called out.

“We’re coming!” Peter called out when Tony remained silent. “We are, right? They seem okay.”

“Yeah, kid. We are.” Tony forced his brain back into gear and refused to look at the crib. “Let’s go.”

Peter gave him one last searching look before he nodded.

The pair followed Sam’s lead out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Tony felt off kilter, his heart once again abusing his ribcage as he tried to keep it all together. Peter remained beside him, hands wrapped around his backpack straps as he started another conversation with Sarah, who was with Sam just a few steps away.

“Where are you guys from?”

“Hartford.” Sarah replied.

“Shit. I heard things were getting pretty bad up there, the FEDRA soldiers used to talk about it all the time.”

“Yeah, the military abandoned the zone.” Sam cut in, his face almost crestfallen. “That’s why we left. The place probably looks something like this now, people were going insane. I’d never seen anything like it until we got stuck here. How did you manage to overhear FEDRA soldiers?”

“I, uh, was raised in one of their boarding schools.” Peter muttered, almost like he was embarrassed to admit it. Tony was about to tell him not to overshare with strangers when suddenly, Peter’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and he let out a loud, excited gasp. “No way!”

Peter darted into a bedroom, which at first glance looked like it belonged to a kid. He snatched something from a desk, hurtled back over to Tony and shoved the object in his face.

It was another Star Wars comic, in almost perfect condition aside from a few tears in the cover.

“Look, Tony!” Peter cheered, then lowered the comic from Tony’s face and practically threw his backpack off. With great care, he slid the comic in beside the others, his grin huge when he looked back up at Tony. “Fuck, I can’t believe it. Maybe this shitty city has something good after all.”

“You like Star Wars?” Sarah piped up, eyes wide with interest. Beside her, Sam was smiling, but it looked incredibly strained. Maybe she was his daughter, then? If that were true, the man had to be pretty young when he had her. He didn’t look too old himself. “You even found a comic? I’ve never found one that’s in good condition!”

“Yeah! I have two more that I stole from Tony’s shitty friend. He had a whole town to himself, you know, so he won’t be missing them. You can read them if you want!” Peter exclaimed excitedly as he put his backpack back on. Tony’s heart swelled at the sight, suddenly aware that the kid was probably overjoyed to have someone his own age for company. “I haven’t seen the movies yet, though. FEDRA never allowed us to do anything fun.”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t seen them either.” Sarah finally smiled, almost as bright as Peter. She seemed to appreciate the company of someone her own age even more than Peter. “But Sam has!”

“Yeah. You would love them, kid.” Sam nodded in agreement, but the smile fell into something more serious. Sarah and Peter immediately noticed the change, both their smiles falling. “We have to be careful. We’re right beside one of their lookout areas.”

With that, they kept moving. They exited the apartment and made their way down several staircases in silence, the air heavy. Eventually, they reached the bottom floor, which was filled with old storefronts. There was no access to the basement thanks to the massive pile up of debris blocking the way.

“Is it just you and your son travelling together?” Sam asked as they entered a toy store.

“He’s not my son.”

“He’s not my Dad!”

Tony and Peter spoke at the same time, both defensive. Tony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted, while Peter toed the ground with the point of his shoe. Sam looked between them, eyes filled with something that Tony couldn’t quite decipher, but he ignored it. He didn’t want to know what this random stranger thought of him.

“Okay.” Sam raised his hands in surrender. “Not your kid, then.”

Tony sighed and removed his hand from his face.

“I just… I promised someone I’d look after him.”

“I can respect that.” Sam turned around to peer out the window. “Wait, wait, everyone quiet! Stay down and keep away from the windows!”

The distant rumble of of the Humvee’s engine made its way to Tony’s ears as they rushed to duck for cover. The Humvee idled past, a body splayed across the hood. No doubt another traveller, one that didn’t manage to make it out of the city.

Once the Humvee was gone, they relaxed and straightened up.

“Man… that fucking truck. It’s been hounding us ever since we got to this damn-” Sam cut himself off, his eyes on Sarah, who had moved away from the window to inspect some of the toys left behind on the shelf. She had an action figure in her hand, one that looked like a Star Wars character, one he was sure Peter would love. “Sarah, what are you doing?”

Sarah jumped like a deer caught in headlights. “Nothing!”

“Get rid of it.”

Sarah’s face fell.

“But, Sam, my backpack’s practically empty-”

“What’s the rule about taking stuff?”

“It weighs nothing! I don’t have any-”

“Sarah Wilson. The rule, what is it?”

Sarah’s eyes dropped to her shoes, shoulders slumped. She threw the toy on the ground.

“We only take what we have to.”

“That’s right. Now come on.”

Sam fixed Sarah with one last stern look before he headed towards the back of the store. Sarah trailed behind, head down, fists clenched in what Tony presumed was anger. Tony understood Sam’s reasoning, but deep down, he wished he’d just let Sarah have that one thing. There wasn’t much for children to get excited about anymore.

When Sam and Sarah were at the opposite end of the store to Tony and Peter, Peter shot their backs a quick look that screamed suspicious.

In the corner of his eye, Tony watched the kid make his way over to the toy shelf Sarah had been at, which contained a few more of the same action figures the girl had taken an interest to. The kid glanced in Sam’s direction, before he took off his backpack and shoved two of the figures inside.

One for himself and one for Sarah.

Tony pretended not to notice, the barest of smiles forming on his lips at the sight.

Peter was a good kid.

Tony joined Sam and Sarah, arms crossed over his chest.

“How far away are we from this hideout?”

“We’re close. Real close.” Sam was braced against the back door. “Ready?”

Tony nodded. The second Sam opened the door, unfamiliar voices made it to his ears.

“Hunters, get down!” Sam hissed.

They split off in pairs, Tony and Peter behind one storage crate, Sarah and Sam behind another. The hunters conversation went on, blissfully unaware of their presence.

“What’d you find?”

“Nothin’. Looks like someone was up there, but they’re long gone.”

“So where are the others?”

“They wanted to give it a once over. Make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

“Alright. Keep an eye out over there, I’ll check this area.”

The hunters split up, and a plan formed in Tony’s head. He gestured for Peter to hand him the bow, which he did without hesitation. Tony grabbed an arrow from the kid’s backpack and aimed it at the closet hunter, eyes squinted with effort. Once he was sure the shot would land, he released the arrow, which whizzed through the air and lodged itself in the back of the hunter’s head. The man crumbled without a sound, the second hunter unaware of his friend’s demise.

Tony grabbed a second arrow and aimed it at other the man. With just as much care, he lined up the shot and released.

The hunter went down within seconds. When there was no more movement, Tony and Sam edged forwards to make sure the area was clear.

“Not bad, old timer.”

Tony rolled his eyes at the laugh Peter let out, the kid’s eyes shining at the borderline insult. Sam led them onto the roof of a car, then onto a truck that was high enough to reach the roof of the nearby building. They were able to jump onto the fire escape of an office building, Tony relieved to be inside when he heard the shouts of hunters below, along with the distant rumble of the Humvee.

Still, being hidden from outside eyes didn’t help Tony’s paranoia.

Sam led them into one of the rooms, which was filled with desks and computers, most of the staff’s belongings still at their respective stations.

“You sure it’s safe being so close to them?”

Sam let out a chuckle as he waited for Peter and Sarah to step through the doorway.

“I’m the only one with a key, man.”

“And how’d you manage to get that?”

“Killed one of them. They sure won’t be missing it now.” Sam closed the door behind the kids and gestured to the back end of the office. “It’s just back here.”

The hideout wasn’t much. It was just a plain office, full of things that would have been useful pre-outbreak. Nothing stood out. Still, Sam seemed proud of it as he closed the door behind them and locked it with a small, dirty silver key he had stolen from one of the hunters.

The locked door gave Tony some peace of mind, but not much. While he could still hear the rumble of the Humvee’s engine outside, he would never be able to relax.

Peter was the first to break the silence, his fingers twisting as he looked around the office.

“How long have you guys been hiding in here for?”

“A few days.” Sarah replied. “We found a little food though! Come look, it’s over here. We hid it just in case the hunters ended up finding us…”

As Sarah led Peter over to the couch beside the door, Tony turned to look out the window. There was nothing much to see, the setting sun far too blinding. All it did was give him a headache.

What a fucking day.

“Blueberries.” Tony could practically hear the smile in Sam’s voice. “We found a whole stash of them. Want some?”

“No.”

“Hey, man, relax. We’re safe here. I’m the only one with the key, none of those freaks are getting in.”

Tony wanted to laugh. Relax, in a city like this?

“So why haven’t you left?”

At this, the carefree smile dropped from Sam’s face.

“We’ve been waiting for the right opportunity.” At Tony’s unimpressed look, Sam huffed. “Alright, get over here. I have something to show you.”

Tony followed Sam towards the window. Down below was an old military checkpoint, covered in graffiti and defiled in ways that was nothing like Boston. Hunters were everywhere, patrolling the area, talking amongst themselves like this was just an every day thing.

“Every day those fuckers congregate down there guarding that damn bridge. At night time, it’s only down to a skeleton crew. After sunset, that’s our window.” Sam took a breath, his shoulders tense. “With most of them gone, we’ll be able to sneak right past them. This is our only shot of getting out of here.”

Tony took a moment to process Sam’s words, eyes still watching the movement down below.

“That could work.”

“Oh, it’ll work. It’ll definitely work, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Tony was just about to ask why, but a sudden burst of laughter cut him off. Both adults turned to look at the kids, who were both in fits of laughter as Peter threw a blueberry in the air. He aimed to catch it in his mouth, but it hit him in the eye instead, causing Sarah to double over as he whined in pain.

As Tony watched Peter laugh and have genuine fun, he could feel Natasha watching him. He could almost hear her scolding tone, the disappointment she’d feel at him getting attached to their cargo.

Cargo.

Cargo, whose entire life was an enigma to him. Tony had a feeling that since he was bitten, or maybe even since he was put in that boarding school, Peter hadn’t gotten many chances to just be a kid. As an orphan growing up in a military school, Tony bet there wasn’t many things that brought Peter happiness in his life.

“Wow.” Sam whispered, his eyes glassy. “It’s been a while since that girl even cracked a smile.”

Tony let himself smile a little.

“He doesn’t seem bothered by all of this.”

All at once, whatever good Tony was feeling dissipated. Peter’s face after he killed the hunter invaded his mind, along with the guilt attached to it. He squared his shoulders and looked away from the kids, and instead turned back to Sam, who was already looking at him.

The man had that look on his face again, like he had discovered something.

Tony didn’t care.

“Where are you headed?”

Sam hastily grabbed a chair and sat down, which prompted Tony to do the same.

“Well, we heard the Fireflies are based out west somewhere. We’re going to join up with them.”

“Oh, yeah…” Tony trailed and almost laughed in disbelief. “The Fireflies.”

“What, something funny?”

“Maybe. Just seems like there’s an awful lot of people putting their life into the Fireflies these days.”

“Yeah, well maybe there’s a good reason for that.”

“You’re telling me you’re going to drag that little girl across the country to find the Fireflies when you don’t even know where they are?”

Tony’s words inflicted the desired reaction. Sam became tense as he glared at Tony, fists clenched and tone threatening when he spoke.

“Tell you what. How about I worry about my sister and you worry about your boy.”

“Easy.” Tony smirked. “We’re looking for the Fireflies too.”

Sam was rendered speechless for a few seconds, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Eventually, an uneasy smile broke across the man’s face, before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a map. He opened it on the table beside him, a two locations marked in bright green marker.

“This is us.” Sam pointed to the first circle. Then, he pointed to the second location marked RADIO TOWER. “There’s an abandoned military radio station just outside of the city. Any survivors from our group are supposed to meet us there tomorrow. If you and your boy want to join us, it goes down tonight.”

There really was no other choice. Tony searched Sam’s expression for any kind of warning signs, but all he saw was a worried brother willing to do anything for his sister.

“I guess we better rest up then.”

Sam nodded in agreement, clearly relieved. 

That was all that had to be said. Sam got up and made his way over to the kids, presumably to explain the plan. Tony took the opportunity to take off his backpack and dump out its contents on the table, relieved to find that he had enough supplies to make some nail bombs. Thanks to Clint’s expertise, he should be able to replicate them.

As he set to work, he kept an eye on Peter, who remained sat on the couch with Sarah. They had one of his comics out, excitedly pointing at the pictures and reading out the lines in funny voices. Sam was stationed at the main office desk closest to Sarah, working on something Tony couldn’t see.

After a few minutes, the comic book was put away, and conversation made its way to Tony’s ears.

“How old are you?” Sarah asked, a lot less timid than she had been earlier.

“I turned fourteen a little while ago. How old are you?”

“Fifteen. I’m almost sixteen!”

“Really?” Peter almost sounded disappointed. “Damn.”

“What, you’re jealous because I’m older than you?”

“No!” Peter laughed, but it sounded strained. “Why would I be jealous?”

“I dunno.” Tony saw Sarah shrug out of the corner of his eye. “Can I see your other comics?”

“Sure!”

As Peter delved back into his backpack, Tony turned back to his task. In the next hour, Tony managed to make two bombs, thankful that his skills from before the outbreak remained. He almost longed to be back in the lab, working on things for Stark Industries, and even things for his own home.

With the bombs placed safely in his backpack, he sighed and turned to Peter and Sarah. Sarah was asleep, curled up on one corner of the couch, arms crossed protectively over her chest. Peter was sat up the other end of the couch with his journal in his lap, sketching. They’d fallen quiet some time ago, most likely because Sarah had fallen asleep.

Sam was still in the same spot, watching over his sister, his face displaying everything he was feeling.

The man was terrified. He was young, far younger than Tony, but old enough to have lived before the outbreak. He also looked exhausted, his eyes drooping, but he seemed far more intent to stay awake and keep an eye on Sarah.

There was no telling what the siblings had been through before landing in this city. If Hartford was as bad as the rumours said, Tony had a pretty good idea the horrors they had to have gone through. There were clearly no parents in the picture, but there had to have been once for Sarah to exist.

Instead of dwelling on the stranger’s past, he focused on the kid he was responsible for instead.

“Peter.” He called out, quiet enough that he wouldn’t wake Sarah. Peter looked on the brink of exhaustion yet again, the bags under his eyes dark when he glanced up at Tony. His pencil paused it’s sketching as he waited for Tony to speak. “How’s your head?”

“It feels fine, I think. It hurts.” Peter made an aborted move to poke at the stitches, but stopped himself at last second and lowered his hand. “But I’m okay.”

“Good.” Tony breathed a silent sigh of relief. “What about your chest? Breathing okay?”

“It’s fine.” Peter shrugged it off like it was no big deal. “I’m used to it.”

“Where do you get your medication?”

“FEDRA usually supplied it to me before I- you know. Even though they thought I was a burden like everyone else…” Peter’s hand started to rub at his wrist where the bite mark was. Tony quickly glanced towards Sam, whose eyes were now closed, a deep frown on his face. He was awake, and most likely listening, but he hadn’t noticed Peter’s automatic movement. “Carol got me a refill too.”

Tony nodded, not liking their chances of finding more.

If they made it to the Fireflies quick enough, he could send Peter on his way knowing he would have a chance of getting more refills.

He’d also send Peter on his way with the knowledge that there might be a cure.

But, the thought of a cure didn’t excite him as much as it would have twenty years ago.

“You should get some sleep.” Tony suggested. “We have a few hours before we have to move.”

Peter, to Tony’s shock, didn't even complain like he expected. The kid got up from the couch and made his way over to Tony, journal still wide open, the pages just in Tony’s view. Unable to hold back the curiosity, he looked at what Peter had been sketching.

The drawing was as big as the page, little notes and arrows scribbled all alongside it. It looked like a robot, but at the same time, it also looked human. On the next page was a similar drawing that had even more notes than the first, this one looking significantly more human. The eyes on the face looked almost identical to the ones on Peter’s badge, and the longer he stared, the more dots started to connect in his head.

Peter’s fascination with superheroes. The second drawing had to be Spider-Man.

Before he could take another look at the first drawing, Peter abruptly snapped the journal shut.

“Hey!” The kid glared fiercely at him. “What the hell, man? No peeking!”

“I don’t care about your robot drawings, kid.”

“They’re not robots.” The kid plopped down to the floor a few feet away from Tony and unzipped his backpack. He tucked the journal away, then pulled out his switchblade, the blade itself sheathed. “They’re- actually, I’m not telling you. You weren’t supposed to see them yet!”

“Whatever you say.” Tony rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t nearly as annoyed as he seemed. “What are you doing on the floor?”

“Going to sleep?” Peter stated like it was obvious.

“Why aren’t you sleeping on the couch? It’s more comfortable than the floor.”

Peter outright ignored him, but Tony noticed the slight tinge of red that appeared on the kid’s cheeks as he got himself comfortable. Much like in Clint’s cellar, Peter used his backpack as a pillow and curled up on his side, switchblade held tight in his right hand.

“Kid-”

“I don’t want the fucking couch.” Peter muttered and curled up tighter. He looked up at Tony then, eyes pleading to drop the subject. “Okay?”

“Suit yourself.”

As he watched Peter get himself as comfortable as he could on the floor, it hit Tony like a train.

Peter had chosen the floor because it was closer to Tony and further away from the strangers. While they may be proving trustworthy, the kid clearly didn’t want to take any risks, given the switchblade held protectively in his hand. He’d decided to take the floor because he trusted Tony to protect him.

Tony had to lean on the desk with both elbows to keep his breathing under control. He held his head in his hands, his heart pounding.

How had he let himself get into this?

“You okay over there, man?”

Sam’s voice was quiet. Tony pulled his hands away from his face to look at the man, who was watching him curiously, the concern poorly hidden on his face. Tony must have been lost in his mind for longer than he thought, because when he looked down at Peter, the kid was fast asleep.

Even in sleep, his grip remained tight around his switchblade.

Tony’s heart ached.

“Yeah.” Tony let out a deep breath. “Fine.”

“You should get some rest too, it looks like you need it. I’ll keep watch.”

When Tony didn’t reply, Sam continued.

“I won’t kill you or your boy in your fuckin’ sleep. I’m not like them.” Sam jabbed at thumb in the direction fo the window, alluding to the hunter’s checkpoint just outside. “Remember, I’m the only one with the key. Rest. I’ll wake you up when it’s time to go.”

“And I’m just supposed to trust your word?”

Sam gave him an unimpressed stare.

“You want to get out of this fucking city or not?”

Tony sighed and let himself give in. If Sam wanted to attack him, he would have already. They both had someone to protect. His body was also begging for rest, the day’s worth of driving and escaping the hunter’s beginning to add up.

“Fuck’s sake.” Tony shuffled around a few times to get himself comfortable, not after making sure his handgun was in reach, just in case. If Sam noticed, he didn’t say anything. “Wake me up as soon as you’re ready.”

“Yeah.”

Arms crossed over his chest, Tony looked down at Peter one last time. The kid hadn’t moved, his body angled towards Tony as he slept. Images of Morgan curled up in bed made themselves known, all those times she said she loved him echoing through his head as he watched the gentle rise and fall of Peter’s chest.

“Love you tons, baby girl.”

“I love you three thousand.”

Tony closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

“So when are you going to tell me his name?”

“Huh?” Tony blinked. “What did you say?”

“Stop bullshitting me.” Rhodey glared playfully and elbowed him. The coffee in his hand sloshed precariously close to the rim, but didn’t overflow. “I’m going to be his uncle, I deserve to know his name.”

They were sat outside on Tony and Pepper’s porch, watching over Morgan, who was hidden away in her little play tent. Pepper was inside resting, the pregnancy taking a toll on her. It had been a rough night.

They hadn’t picked a name for the baby yet, but Rhodey didn’t need to know that.

“You’ll be the first to know, I promise, Honeybear.” Tony took a sip of his coffee. “Patience.”

“I guess that’s as good as I’m going to get.” Rhodey took a sip of his own coffee, a content smile on his face as he looked at Tony. “You know, I’m so proud of you, man. I never imagined little fifteen-year-old Tony Stark would come to his senses like this.”

“Is this your way of saying you never believed in me?” Tony sneered half-heartedly. “What kind of friend are you?”

“Shut up, you know I’m just happy for you, idiot. You thought the same.”

Tony could do nothing but nod in agreement.

Morgan poked her head out of her tent a few seconds later, the brightest of grins on her face when she spotted Tony looking. She waved, then ducked back inside her tent.

Tony and Rhodey sat in content silence for a while, sipping at their morning coffees, taking in the rare downtime from work. Yinsen’s lawnmower could be heard next door, along with the laughter of the Khan’s over the road.

It was nice.

When Morgan’s shrill scream cut through the peace, Tony was out of his chair in an instant. His coffee spilled in his haste to get to his daughter, the heat burning his skin as he made his way towards Morgan’s tent. Rhodey followed close behind him, but his footsteps sounded distant.

When Tony opened the tent’s flaps, all he could see was blood and his daughter in the middle of it.

Tony hastily pulled his daughter into his lap and placed both hands over the wound on her stomach. It gushed blood, the substance already staining Tony’s clothes. Suddenly, Rhodey was very far away, and the world around him was dark. All he could see was Morgan, his baby girl, and her vacant eyes that no longer saw him.

Tony sobbed, his chest shuddering with the effort to breathe.

“Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to me baby girl, come on…”

Tony’s eyes snapped open.

His stomach heaved, but he forced the vomit down as the aftershocks of the nightmare came over him in waves. The first thing his conscious brain saw was Peter stood in front of him, his hand retreating from Tony’s shoulder. The kid must’ve been the one to wake him.
Behind Peter, Sam was talking intently to Sarah, his hands on both the teen’s shoulders. Tony could just make out their hushed conversation.

“Now, we’re going to be moving fast, okay? You stick to me like glue no matter what.” Sam squeezed his sister’s shoulders. “Like glue.”

“Like glue. Got it.”

“Good, good. If something… if anything happens to me, you stick with Tony, okay?”

“But… nothing will happen to you, right? We won’t end up like the others?”

“Nothing will- the others are fine. Didn’t I already tell you not to talk like that?” Sam paused, the lie hanging in the air. When he spoke next, he sounded guilty. “You stick with him just in case, okay? We can’t take any chances with this.”

“Alright, I’ll stick with him if something happens to you. I promise.”

“Good.” Sam cupped his sister’s cheek affectionately, worry shining in his dark eyes. “I love you.”

“I know, Sam.” Sarah rolled her eyes, but it was fond. “I love you too.”

Tony’s heart ached.

“I love you three thousand.”

Peter nudged Tony’s boot with the tip of his dirty converse to get his attention, arms crossed over his chest. Morgan’s sleepy face disappeared from Tony’s mind as he turned to the kid.

“Sam said it’s time to go.”

Tony took a second to process the sentence, his brain working in overdrive. When Peter’s words finally made sense to him, he nodded and got up. Peter hovered by him as he gathered himself and painfully pulled his backpack over his shoulders. His body continued to ache like it always did, but the small amount of rest had done enough to refresh him for a short while, even with the nightmares that plagued it.

When Tony made his way over to Sam, he immediately turned around and clapped his hands together. The man looked nervous, but was trying his hardest to keep it together for Sarah.

“Ready?” When he received nods from the both Tony and Peter, Sam visibly reigned in his emotions. “Good. Let’s get going. Stick close, alright?”

Tony turned to Peter, automatically checking the kid for any discomfort. While Peter looked nervous, he didn’t seem to be in any pain, and the stitches looked decent. As Sam and Sarah disappeared down a hallway that connected to the office they resided in, Tony gestured for Peter to go first.

If anyone were to attack them from behind, they’d hit Tony first.

Sam led the way while Tony took up the rear with kids in between them.

“Have you tried this before?” Tony asked as they made their way through the eerie, dark office building. Their flashlights remained off to avoid being spotted by any hunters outside. “Escaping?”

“Uh, yeah.”

The tone of Sam’s voice said it all.

“Wow, that’s comforting.”

“Relax, old man.” Peter sniggered at Sam’s words. “I know the way.”

“For your sake, I hope you do.”

They travelled through the building in silence after that, the only sound being their footsteps as they headed down a few floors. Sam held a finger up to his lips once they reached the bottom, the faintest of light shining through the cracks of a closed door. A second later, he heard an unfamiliar voice on the other side of the wall. It was distant, but too close for comfort.

Tony positioned himself in front of both kids as Sam silently opened the door, the light from the makeshift fire now brighter than ever. He peered around the corner and spotted two hunters with their backs to the group, stood in front of a burning barrel that they were using as a campfire.

Sam left the safety of the stairwell followed by Tony and crouched behind a couch.

“Let’s try and take them out quietly.” Sam whispered as Tony went to grab his gun. “You take the one on the left, I’ll take the right.”

Tony nodded in affirmation and prepared to strike. In tandem, Sam and Tony darted between covers until they were close enough to the hunters. The two men didn’t suspect a thing as Tony leapt behind one and pulled him into a chokehold. At the same time, Sam stabbed the second hunter, one hand around his mouth to conceal any noise. The hunters went out in complete silence, much to Tony’s relief.

“Okay, kids, up here.” Sam waved to Peter and Sarah, who were still huddled behind the couch. “Keep low.”

Their next problem came in the form of the checkpoint itself. Tony led the way outside, hunched painfully behind an old concrete barricade, his back aching from the overuse. He ignored the pain and peeked over the edge of the barricade, eyeing the checkpoint ahead. The spotlight roved around the area, searching for victims, illuminating the old cars that were scattered around the area.

The second he noticed the spotlight headed in their direction, he ducked.

The light passed over the group slowly, almost agonisingly. Eventually, it drifted into a different area and they gained the opportunity to move forward.

There were hunters everywhere. There were three up by the spotlight, their voices echoing around the buildings around them. There were two patrolling the ground by the generator that powered the spotlight above, weapons in hand, ready to strike at any moment. Tony was sure there were more behind the checkpoint just waiting for any unfortunate travellers like themselves to show themselves.

Tony was starting to believe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Using timing and a little bit of luck, Tony and Sam used other concrete barricades and cars as cover. Peter and Sarah were between them, huddled together holding hands so they could stay together, both of their faces showing different degrees of fear.

Despite being the older of the two, Sarah looked terrified. Her body shook almost violently when the light passed over their heads every now and then. Peter looked more composed, but Tony knew he was just as scared as Sarah.

Before they could move any closer, the sound of infected broke through the air. The spotlight immediately snapped in the direction of the sound, all the hunter’s attention focussed on the lone clicker that stumbled out into the street from a nearby building. Tony was just able to see the thing and its flailing arms in the spotlight, and it wasn’t long before the deafening gunshots pierced his eardrums.

The clicker fell with a thud, and the hunters continued sweeping as if nothing had happened.

This was their normal.

“Shit.” Sam cursed. “There’s too fucking many of them.”

He was right. There was no way through without getting spotted by either the two hunters on the ground or the ones above by the spotlight. The second any of them were spotted, they would be dead.

“Hey, kid.” Tony whispered as he turned to Peter, an idea sparking in his mind. “Give me the bow.”

Peter quickly handed the weapon over, along with the last arrow he had left.

Tony had to make the shot count.

As he readied to aim at the closet hunter on the ground, another clicker exited the same building as the last. It was the perfect distraction.

Without enough time to make sure his aim was perfect, Tony took the chance. He released the arrow at the same time the hunters shot down the second clicker. The arrow whizzed through the air and pierced the hunter in the side of the head, enough to kill him immediately. The body slumped to the ground, concealed behind a police car, unbeknownst to the rest of his friends.

He handed the bow back to Peter as Sam crept over to the other hunter. With the threats on the ground minimised, there was the perfect opportunity to take him out.

When the spotlight was on the opposite side of where they were positioned, Sam fatally stabbed the hunter and brought him to ground.

It wouldn’t be long before the others noticed their friends were gone. Tony ushered the kids forward until they were directly under the spotlight and out of view, right in front of the generator that powered it.

After a moment of consideration, Tony turned it off.

The hunters, predictably, were immediately alert.

The next few minutes was a blur. In a flurry of movement, the gunfire began, but the hunters were easily overpowered by them due to the element of surprise. Between Tony and Sam, they were able to take them down, but it wasn’t long before the rumble of an engine made its way to their ears. Tony immediately ran over to the large metal gate and started pushing, desperate to get the thing open.

“Sam, help me with this!” Tony yelled, the Humvee’s engine getting louder as the deathtrap approached. “Hurry the fuck up!”

“Got it!”

With both of their efforts, the gate eventually opened enough for them to get through. Without thinking, Tony grabbed Peter and shoved the boy through first. Sarah followed close behind, her hand still clinging to Peter’s, followed by Sam and then Tony. The two men slammed the gates shut just as the Humvee hurled around the corner, headlights illuminating the street as the thing barrelled down the road at an alarming pace.

“Tony!” Peter suddenly yelled. “Behind us!”

“They’re over here!”

“Shit!” Sam yelled as he fired at the hunter positioned on top of a truck. In three shots the hunter was down, the body falling from the truck to the ground below. “Got em’”

For a moment, Tony floundered. With the Humvee just on the other side of that gate, they didn’t have much chance of getting away. His eyes scanned the area, breathing heavily from the exertion. Finally, his eyes landed back on the same truck the hunter had been on top of, and saw a half-broken ladder connected to the trailer.

Tony wasted no time in kneeling down, hands cupped to boost the others up.

“Kids!” He yelled over the noise outside. “Get over here!”

Peter was quick. He dragged Sarah along with him and let go of her hand to push her in Tony’s direction. The girl didn’t hesitate to put her foot in Tony’s hand and her hands on his shoulders, and with as much force as he could, he boosted Sarah high enough to grab to the rung of the ladder. Once she was safely over, Sam went next, followed by Peter.

Just as Sam pulled Peter the rest of the way up, the ladder gave way. Tony stumbled back just in time to avoid the metal landing on his head, dread filling his stomach as he locked eyes with Peter, who was still dangling from the side of the truck held up by Sam. The kid was looking down at him, eyes suddenly wide with fear.

Tony could hear the hunter’s screaming on the other side of the gate, their time alone dwindling.

“Move out of the fucking way, we’re going to ram it!”

“Fucking go!” Tony yelled at Peter, who continued to stare down at him, horrified. “Go!”

Instead of running like Tony wanted him to do, Peter turned to Sam.

“Fuck, we’ve gotta help him up!”

Sam looked between Peter, Tony, and then Sarah.

The decision was already made. He could see it on the guy’s fucking face.

This was a horrible idea, he never should have trusted a stranger.

“Sam?!” Peter yelled, desperate. Tony’s stomach twisted. “Help me!”

“Ah…” Sam grabbed Sarah by the hand and pulled her away from Peter. “Man, I’m sorry! We’re going!”

“Sam?!” Sarah tried to pull against her brother’s hold, but it was no use. “What are you doing? We can’t just leave them behind! You have to help-”

“I’m sorry, we’re going! Come on, Sarah!”

Sam turned on his heel and ran. Sarah had no choice but to follow.

“Hey!” Peter started to run after them, but stopped short. “What the fuck, Sam?! You fucking coward!”

There was no response. Sam and Sarah disappeared over the wall without as much as a look over the shoulder. The Humvee slammed against the gate, the metal grinding beneath the force. With one or two more hits, it was going to give in, and they were both going to die at the hands of those freaks.

“Kid, just fucking go!”

Tony had already started to look for a way out as he screamed at Peter, hoping the kid would just fucking listen and run after Sam and Sarah. But, of course, Peter did the exact opposite of what he wanted him to do.

For the first time, Peter didn’t hesitate. He dropped down from the trailer and landed with a thud beside Tony, a determined look on his face.

“We stick together.” Peter heaved, a slight wheeze to his breaths. “I’m not leaving you.”

Before Tony could say anything, the Humvee slammed against the gate a second time. As it reversed for the final hit that would make their deaths a certainty, Tony immediately ran over to the first escape he spotted in the form of an old garage door. It was covered in grime and graffiti, but that was the least of his problems as he forced his fingers through the small gap between the ground and the door.

Tony lifted the garage door as high as he could, his muscles screaming for relief as he urged Peter to get moving. The kid didn’t need to be told twice as he collapsed on all fours to crawl under, his movements frantic as the Humvee reversed.

Just as Peter’s feet disappeared under the door, the Humvee slammed through the gates with a sickening crash. Immediately the turret began to fire, bullets spraying everywhere as Tony tried to get his body under the door. Peter held it open the best he could, the kid clearly struggling which made Tony move even faster.

The kid’s grip gave way just as Tony pulled his last foot through. The door slammed shut without a gap, bullets peppering against the metal as the hunters screamed orders at each other on the other side. The Humvee screeched as it reversed, another crash following, but from having reversed into something as opposed to crashing through the door.

The Humvee screeched again, the engine getting further away. It was more than likely that they were going to try circle the building to meet Tony and Peter on the other side.

There was no time to wait around for that to happen. Tony and Peter ran through the building, which was an old restaurant, more hunters scattered throughout. Tony used the last of his shotgun ammo to take two out at once, unfazed by the blood that splattered across the floor and tables. Peter made a small noise at the sight, but didn’t slow down.

When they made it back outside through the back door of the restaurant, the bridge was in view. There was no time to regroup when the Humvee crashed through the second gate of the checkpoint, the heavily armoured vehicle even more threatening in the darkness. Tony’s efforts to be quick hadn’t paid off at all.

Doused in the Humvee’s headlights, the pair broke into a sprint towards the bridge.

The hunter’s yells followed them.

“Hurry the fuck up, they’re headed towards the bridge!”

Bullets began to fire all around them, several obstacles making it hard to make ground quickly. Tony vaulted over a road block, Peter’s body coming in and out of view as they weaved around cars and other blockades.

The noise was ear-splitting, the Humvee tearing through almost every obstacle it came across. Peter disappeared behind a bus and an upturned truck a few feet ahead of Tony, the panic doubling when he could no longer see the kid.

Picking up the pace as best as he could, Tony followed Peter’s trail and found him at a dead stop.

It didn’t take long to figure out why.

The bridge was no longer a bridge. There was a massive, gaping hole in the middle of it, the river below a blur of rushing water. All Tony could do was pull Peter back from the edge, suddenly acutely aware of his lack of ability to swim.

“Fuck!” Peter yelled, his terrified eyes locked on Tony’s. “What are we supposed to do now?!”

The Humvee approached, still loudly crashing through everything in its path.

“You take this.” Tony pulled out his handgun and handed it to Peter.

“What?” Peter shook his head and shoved the gun back at Tony. “Are you insane? They’re gonna kill us!”

“What other choice do we have?” Tony thrust the weapon in Peter’s direction again. “Take the fucking gun!”

“No!” Peter shook his head violently, his gaze flickering to the rushing waters below. “We… we jump!”

Tony’s brain went blank. He looked between Peter and the water, knowing for a fact that Peter wouldn’t be able to handle it. The second the kid hit the water, he would down.

“No. It’s too high and you can’t swim.” The Humvee crashed into the bus which shook violently, the remaining windows shattering. “I’ll boost you up and you run past them-”

The Humvee reversed and slammed into the upturned truck instead. A car that had been hanging precariously over the ledge was also pushed, enough that the vehicle slid off the edge and into the waters below. It was immediately pulled away in the current, floating out of sight.

Peter looked between Tony and the water again as the Humvee reversed a third time.

Like Sam, Tony could see the decision forming on Peter’s face.

“You’ll keep me afloat.”

“Peter!”

“Fuck!” Peter yelled and took fearful a step back towards the edge. “There’s no time to argue!”

The kid turned on his heel and jumped.

For a second, all Tony could see was Morgan’s lifeless eyes, her stomach drenched in blood. His body moved on autopilot, his arms already outstretched for Peter who was already out of reach and falling. Tony didn’t hesitate to jump after him, his stomach rolling as his body hurtled downwards. He saw Peter hit the water, his smaller body immediately submerged and out of sight.

When Tony hit the water, it was like ice. He was disorientated for a few seconds as he desperately tried to reach the surface, the water already carrying him at an alarming speed. The second his head emerged, he searched the area for Peter, desperate to find the kid. When he couldn’t see him, the worst possible outcomes already started to form in his mind, along with the images of Pepper and Morgan, both lifeless. This time, they were accompanied by an image of Peter floating face down in the water, unmoving, dead.

Just when he thought he’d lost this kid forever, Peter popped up a few feet away from him, arms waving desperately.

“Tony!” The kid called out for him before his head went back under.

Tony used the current to his advantage and swam as fast as he could, eyes focussed on Peter’s flailing hands when they resurfaced.

“I’ve got you.” He muttered between coughs. “I’ve got you kid, I’ve got you.”

Once in reach, he latched onto Peter and pulled the boy to his chest, supporting him so his head was out of water. Peter was coughing and joking, his hands wrapped tight around Tony’s forearms as he held on for dear life.

“T-Tony!”

The fear in Peter’s voice made Tony hold him even tighter.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, kiddo.”

In the corner of his eye, he spotted large rock in their path, unavoidable. The current was too strong, and there was no way Tony would be able to get the two of them out of the way in time.

Instead, Tony turned his body the best he could to shield Peter from the brunt of the impact.

The last thing he registered was the air leaving his lungs before everything went black.

-

“Baby, what happened?” Tony whispered as he knelt down to his crying son, tears spilling down his red cheeks as he reached for him. He didn’t hesitate to bring the toddler into his arms. “Shh, baby boy. It’s okay, I’ve got you. Can you tell me what happened?”

The toddler didn’t say a word. Instead, he continued to wail, head buried in Tony’s shoulder as he rocked him.

Morgan sat beside her baby brother, hand rubbing his back with a frown.

“Mo? What happened?”

“I don’t know.” She whispered. “I was inside my tent when he started crying.”

Tony stared at his daughter. She looked different, older.

“Can you use your words, sweetheart?” Tony tried to persuade the toddler to remove his face from his shoulder, but the kid didn’t budge. “That’s okay. Let’s go inside and see Mommy, okay?”

When he received a nod from the toddler, Tony got up and made his way back into the house. Morgan trailed behind him, one hand wrapped around his shirt, clearly distressed about her brother. Tony’s heart swelled with love for his children, though he couldn’t shake that something was wrong.

He couldn’t think of the toddler’s name.

Pepper laid on the couch with a blanket pulled to her shoulder, eyes closed, clearly asleep. Tony almost felt bad for waking her, but when the toddler caught sight of his mother, his eyes lit up and his tears started to recede almost instantly. Tony knew Pepper would never be mad at being woken up when one of her children was in distress.

“Why don’t you wake up Mommy, hm?” Tony put the child down on the couch at Pepper’s feet. “Go on.”

The toddler happily made his way up to Pepper’s shoulder and hit it lightly a few times. Pepper didn’t stir, her eyes still shut, her mouth in a thin line. The toddler whined and tried again, but she still didn’t move.

Something uncomfortable settled in Tony’s stomach as he looked at his sleeping wife.

“Try again!” Morgan encouraged. “She must be super sleepy.”

The toddler tried for a third time, but again, Pepper didn’t move.

“Silly Mommy.” Morgan giggled. “I think she’s tricking us.”

“Pep?” Tony shook Pepper’s shoulder this time, harder than a toddler could. Usually, Pepper would wake up quite easily, given she could be a light sleeper at times. “Pepper, wake up.”

Pepper remained still.

“Pep, this isn’t funny.” Tony shook her again. “Pepper!”

Pepper didn’t move.

“Dad…” Morgan whimpered. “Why isn’t Mom waking up?”

Tony continued to shake his wife, unable to answer Morgan’s question. When she didn’t move, Tony’s eyes started to well up, panic gripping his heart as he wrapped his fingers around the blanket and pulled it back. The sight he was met with made his blood run cold, horror overcoming him at the sight of red.

Pepper’s pregnant belly was covered in blood.

When Tony moved to pull the toddler away, he was gone. It was like he’d never existed.

Tony couldn’t breathe. He turned away from his dead wife in search of Morgan, mind already working to get her away from the gruesome sight. Morgan was as pale as a sheet, staring at her mother with wide eyes, unable to comprehend what she was seeing.

Before Tony could comfort her, he heard the cock of a gun and the whispered words of a soldier.

Before the bullet was fired, consciousness returned.

He was met with an immediate ache that expanded over his entire body, his lungs tight as he tried to bring in air. Voices met his ears, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying or who they belonged to, his hearing too distorted to make sense of any of it.

It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours, before he finally managed to peel his eyes open. The first thing he saw was Peter, alive and breathing, crouched over him with the most worried look on his face. Tony let out a relieved breath at the sight of the teen, whose eyes brightened when he noticed that Tony was awake.

“Sam, he’s awake!” A voice that wasn’t Peter’s broke the distortion in his ears.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.” Peter tried to smile, but it wavered. He grabbed Tony’s hand to help him up. His eyebrow was bleeding again. “We’re alive.”

“Yeah.” Tony forced out, wincing as he was pulled into a seated position. “Fuck.”

“See, what’d I tell you, huh?” Sam’s voice. Sam’s voice. “He’s good. Everything’s fine.”

When Tony caught sight of the traitor, it was like all the pain left him. It was replaced with red hot fury, his fists clenching as he staggered to his feet. Peter hovered close beside him, arms outstretched like he was sure Tony was about to fall over.

Sam looked nervous as he looked at Tony, rightfully so. Beside him, Sarah was smiling, looking relieved.

“It was Sarah who spotted you, you guys have taken quite a bit of water.” Sam was saying, but Tony wasn’t really listening.

All he could see was the gun in Sam’s right hand.

Once he had his feet under him, Tony headed straight for Sam and shoved the man on his ass. At the same time, he snatched the handgun from the man’s hands with practised ease and pointed it at him instead.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Sam snapped as went down, eyes widening at the sight of the gun pointed in his direction.

Tony was almost overcome with fury as his fingers twitched on the trigger. He stared at the coward splayed on the ground, only growing angrier when Sam had the audacity to act shocked at Tony’s reaction.

Sam was coward who had almost caused Peter’s death.

“Hey, what are you do-”

Sarah tried to get between them, but Tony pointed the gun at her instead.

“Step back, girl!” Tony growled.

Sarah recoiled, visibly scared, eyes darting between him and her brother on the ground.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay!” The words were directed at Sarah. Sam wasn’t even looking at Tony anymore. “He’s pissed but he’s not going to do anything.”

“Oh, you sure about that?” Tony sneered. His finger twitched. “Give me one good fucking reason not to shoot you in the face right now.”

“Stop!”

Sarah screamed at the same time Peter shouted his name.

“Tony!”

Peter grabbed his shoulder and tried to pull him back, but Tony didn’t move.

“He left us out there to die.” He gritted out. “That fucking car was going to mow us down.”

Sam shook his head, and this only made Tony angrier. His hands tightened around the gun.

“No. You had a good chance of making it, and you did.” Tony edged forward and Sam threw up his hands, one in Tony’s direction and the other in Sarah’s. “Coming back for you meant putting her at risk. Are you going to stand here and tell me you wouldn’t have done the same for him, if he was at risk? Would you have come back for us?”

Tony’s mouth remained in a thin line. Anger still burned deep with in his chest, but the more Sam spoke, the more he came to realise that there was truth to his words.

If their situation were flipped, Tony would have absolutely done the same.

“I saved you.” Sam said. “If it wasn't for Sarah, you would both be at the bottom of that lake.”

Tony’s grip loosened slightly.

“He saved me too.” Tony glanced at Peter, who looked on the brink of tears, his expression begging Tony to let it go. “We would’ve drowned.”

Tony looked at Sam one last time before he sighed. He threw Sam’s gun at his feet and walked away, still trying to shake the anger off as Sarah collapsed at her brother’s side. He turned around to face the pair, guilt starting to make itself known as he watched Sarah rub Sam’s shoulder.

What was he thinking, pointing a gun at a little girl like that?

“Sam, are you okay?”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Sam started to get to his feet with his sister’s help. He turned to Tony once he was standing, hardly any anger present in his expression. The younger man just looked tired, and even understanding. “You know, for what it’s worth, I’m really glad we spotted you.”

Tony just nodded.

“Now, that radio tower is just on the other side of that cliff. Okay?” A smile started to spread over Sam’s face. “That place is going to be filled with supplies! You’re going to be really happy you didn’t kill me. We’re going to search this area, see what we come up with.”

“Yeah.” Tony muttered. “Alright.”

Sam and Sarah walked away from him, having a hushed conversation between themselves as they disappeared up a trail in search of supplies. Tony took a deep breath, not moving just yet, trying to gather himself. Now that the anger was starting to disperse, the pain returned. It wasn’t unbearable, but it was bad enough that it was going to be hard to get going.

“Woah.” Peter sighed. “That was intense. You… cool? For a second there, I thought you might shoot him.”

“Yeah… almost did.” Tony rubbed the back of his neck and tried to ignore the pain that flared up in his back. “I’m cool. You?”

“I’m okay.” Peter offered him a tiny smile. “Promise. You saved me back there… thank you. I knew you would. I think it might be good to have Sam and Sarah around. They’re nice, even if they left you behind… but I get it.”

“I think you’re right.” Tony relented. As much as he didn’t want to believe it, Peter was right. Sam was right. Tony wouldn’t have put Peter in harms way if he could prevent it, just like Sam had. If the situation had been flipped, Tony wouldn’t have hesitated to leave Sam behind if that meant Peter would survive. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Cargo.

“Yeah!” Peter chirped, surprisingly chipper for someone who had almost drowned. “Just fucking drenched.”

At his own words, Peter seemed to pale. Any sign of happiness dropped from his face within a second, and before Tony could ask what was wrong, the kind yanked off his soaked backpack and nearly ripped it open in his haste. Tony noticed now that his bow was missing, most likely dislodged from the kid’s shoulder when he hit the water. Similarly, both Tony’s handgun and shotgun were missing.

They were both unarmed.

However, that seemed to be the least of Peter’s problems as he tipped his backpack upside down and poured out its contents all over the sand.

Everything spilled out, including the three comics he’d picked up. They were all ruined. Peter didn’t even seem worried about the comics as he shoved them out the way, the pages ripping and ink smearing as he did so. Peter continued to move everything around and eventually snapped up his journal, which was in just as bad of a state as the comics were.

“No, no, no.” Peter whispered brokenly as he opened the journal. “Fuck.”

The journal was soaked all the way through, most of the pages tearing as soon as Peter tried to turn them. Everything that was written in it was destroyed, too wet to ever be returned to the condition it was once in.

When Peter looked up at him, his eyes were filled with tears.

“This is the only thing I had left after-” Peter shook his head, eyebrows creasing with the effort not to cry. Tony, despite the pain he was in, found himself kneeling to Peter’s level as he tried to turn the pages. “I can’t- I can’t replace this. It’s fucking ruined. What am I- what am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sorry, kid.” Tony sighed slightly, feeling sorry for Peter. “We can find you a new one. There’s a shit ton of them lying around.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Peter sniffed and a tear slipped down his cheek. “This had… everything in it. I can’t r-replace it.”

“I get it.” Tony picked up Peter’s backpack and started to put everything that wasn’t destroyed back inside. His interest was sparked when he found an old Firefly pendant amongst Peter’s things, but didn’t question it, especially when he saw Peter’s crushed expression worsen at the sight of it. “I do. Really, kid. I had to… I had to leave my entire life behind. I get it.”

Peter sniffed again, still trying to fix the sodden pages. It was no use.

“We’ll find you a new one.” Tony repeated and gently took the journal from Peter’s shaking hands. He tucked it in the kid’s backpack with everything else, knowing he wouldn’t just want to throw it away. He was starting to reach the end of his emotional capacity, but seeing the kid cry again was something he had wanted to avoid. “It won’t be the same, but it might help.”

“Okay.” Peter wiped his face and took his backpack from Tony. “I just…”

Peter didn’t look like he could finish.

But somehow, Tony understood.

“I know, Underoos.” Tony ruffled Peter’s wet hair without even thinking. At first, Peter flinched at the action, before the tiniest of smiles broke through the heartbreak. Tony’s heart swelled, but he chose to ignore it as he retracted his hand. “I’m sorry. Why don’t we get going to that radio tower?”

“Yeah… radio tower.” Tears were still slipping from Peter’s eyes as he got to his feet. “Hey, maybe there’s something in that old boat over there?”

In the distance there was a boat beached on the sand, mostly intact but completely covered in algae and rust. It had been there for a long time, most likely years, long enough for it to go through several storms and other weather alike.

They made their way over to the boat, Tony keeping any eye out for any hunters as they walked along the riverside. They’d ended up beside the larger expanse of the lake, hopefully far enough away from the hunters that there was a slim chance of being caught.

For now, at least.

Tony climbed onto the boat and made his way to the cabin, Peter following close behind. Sam and Sarah could just be seen on the higher piece of land, the two of them still conversing as they looked around for supplies.

“Awesome.” Peter whispered.

“What?”

“This is the first time I’ve been on a boat.”

“Well… it’s a bit different in the water.”

“Hm. One step at a time, I guess.” Peter shrugged as he watched Tony pull the cabin door open. He wiped his face, blood from his eyebrow smearing with his tears. When they got the chance, Tony would have to fix those stitches. “Did everyone own a boat back then?”

“Not everyone, but a lot of people did. It was more a… luxury than a necessity.” Tony replied. “You know, I had a ninety foot yacht.”

“Really?” Peter’s eyes widened. Thankfully, his tears seemed to have stopped thanks to the distraction. “Nah, you’re fucking with me. Sarcasm. We’re making progress.”

“Oh, I wasn’t being sarcastic.”

“Wait…” Peter followed Tony into the cabin. “You really had a yacht? A ninety foot yacht?”

“Yep.” Tony sifted through a few things on the cabin table. “It probably looks a bit like this right now. Maybe even worse.”

“So you weren’t lying about being a millionaire?!” Peter exclaimed. “What the fuck? I really should be calling you Mr. Stark. Were you famous? Would… would people still recognise you now if they saw you?”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Tony rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the last half of Peter’s question. The kid was already skirting too close to Tony’s boundaries. “That shit reminds me of my father.”

“Oh.” Peter eyed him, something like guilt appearing on his face. “Was your Dad… not good?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Talking about Howard was something he hadn’t done since his parents died. He hadn’t even spoken to Rhodey about them. Tony lifted a pile of books, only to find something that would definitely lift Peter’s spirits. “Kiddo, look what I found.”

Tony picked up the Star Wars comic and handed it to Peter.

“No way!” Peter literally jumped with glee. “Whoever owned this boat is fucking awesome! I wonder if they’re still around somewhere.”

Tony let Peter ramble on as he pulled out draws in search of any kind of weapon. Each draw he pulled out was empty, filled with useless things that weren’t any help at all. He looked under everything he could see, desperate for some kind of protection, but there was nothing useful. Whoever owned this boat had likely taken everything they could before abandoning it.

“Tony, look at this.”

Tony accepted the piece of paper Peter found on the floor, curious.

Well… It’s looking like I’ve dodged the chaos and mayhem long enough. My time out at sea is coming to an end. I’m short on supplies and the boat has seen better days. And you know what… this was bound to happen sooner or later. I guess it’s time to go see what’s left of mankind.

What could possibly go wrong, right?

If you happen to find my skeleton, please don’t step on my skull. Thanks.

-Erik

“Hm.” Tony hummed. “Maybe they are around here somewhere.”

“I hope they’re not… you know. Infected.”

Tony nodded as he felt under the cushions. 

Nothing.

“There’s nothing here. Let’s keep moving.”

They pressed forward, only to find a dead end. There was another beached boat, this one in much worse condition than the first. It was a small wooden boat, most of the wood rotten and covered in algae. There was nothing of use inside it, but Tony did take a plank of wood. 

It wasn’t much in terms of a weapon, but it was something.

“Dead end.” Peter kicked a piece of the rotten wood, which immediately crumbled away.

As they doubled back past the first boat, they spotted Sarah standing by a small waterfall.

“Hey!” She called out. “We found something, come check it out!”

“Let’s go see what it is!” Peter started to climb up the rocks, but immediately slipped and stumbled backwards on the slippery ground beneath them. “Ow.”

Tony rolled his eyes and knelt down, hands cupped in front of him. Peter’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, especially when he noticed Sarah was making the climb with no problems, but he accepted the help nonetheless.

Once they made it to the top, they found Sam standing by a pipe closed off by a large grate. Nearby there was a skeleton scattered across the ground, which Tony chose to ignore as he made his way over to Sam and joined him beside the pipe. Sam was in the middle of shining his flashlight through one of the gaps, eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

Water rushed out of the pipe at an alarming speed, enough to have caused the small waterfall they had just climbed.

“I bet this goes all the way through.” Sam turned to Tony, hopeful. “You willing to give it a shot?”

Tony shone his own flashlight down the pipe, unable to see anything but darkness and rushing water.

There wasn’t much choice. It was either swimming across the lake or going through the pipe.

“Alright.” He placed his hands at the bottom of the gate. “Let’s get this thing up.”

Sam immediately got into position and together they lifted the grate. Sarah went in first, but Peter needed a little more coaxing.

Before Tony could offer any kind of support, Sarah extended her hand.

“Come on, Peter!” Sarah smiled, though Tony could still see the fear. “It’s shallow. You can hold my hand if you want.”

“Psh. I’m not a baby.” Peter took her hand even as he complained. “I fucking hate water. This sucks.”

“Hurry up.” Tony grumbled, the weight from the grate starting to make itself known. “We can’t hold this up forever.”

“Yeah, move it.” Sam gritted his teeth. “This is heavier than it looks.”

After Peter cleared the grate, Tony went next and held the grate up for Sam. The tunnel itself was grimy and slippery, his boots sliding slightly as he walked. The pipe was big enough for Tony to stand up straight, the group’s flashlights illuminating the otherwise pitch black area as they advanced deeper into the tunnel.

Within a few feet, the pipe opened up into a much larger area that split in two different directions. Not much needed to be said as they split into pairs, Sam and Sarah headed left while Tony and Peter went right. It became clear fairly quickly that their path wasn’t the one, if the barbed wire gate blocked by a buildup of trash was anything to go by.

“I’m not a fan of this place.” Peter said as Tony tried to move the garbage by forcing the gate. “Do you think there’s stalkers down here? Don’t lie to me.”

“Neither am I.” Tony grunted as he tried again. “There could be.”

Peter turned around in a full circle like there was a stalker hiding behind him.

“Don’t worry about that now, kiddo.” Tony cut Peter off as his mouth opened to ask more questions. “Just keep your wits about you.”

“If you say so…” Peter looked over his shoulder again. “No luck with the gate?”

“No luck. Let’s hope the others found something better.”

Just as Tony was about to turn around, he noticed a piece of paper stuck halfway under the gate. He knelt down and picked it up, a lengthy note written neatly between the lines.

I’m gone for a few months and the world doesn’t waste any time going to shit. Everywhere you turn there’s infected - and non-infected - trying to kill you. Mankind is back to the food chain, baby! I’m kind of shocked I’ve survived this long.

These sewers are pretty safe. Limited exits/entrances make it easier to defend, and if anyone gets in here, I can lose them in the maze.

I might not be tough, but I am quick. Maybe I just need to bide my time down here until it all gets sorted up there. I think I’ll become a sewer mole-man for a while.

Wish me luck.

-Erik

“That dude who owned the boat came down here?” Peter asked as he read the note along with Tony. “Does that mean he could still be down here?”

“Maybe.” Tony frowned. “Let’s hope he’s friendly.”

Tony discarded the note, unsettled. If Erik truly was down here, he could ambush them with guns blazing. Tony and Peter were still weaponless, and all Sam had was his handgun. If they had any luck, Erik was gone and his weapons were left behind.

As they doubled back and headed down the path the siblings had taken, Sam called out to them.

“We found a way through up ahead!”

Sam’s path required a bit of work, but eventually, they made it through the worst of the debris and into a large flooded room. Sam didn’t hesitate to jump into the water, leaving the kids and Tony behind on the platform. While the younger man swam around in search of a way out, Tony looked around for anything Sam might miss.

Sam eventually managed to climb onto a platform on the other side of the room, his flashlight illuminating an old generator. It took a few tugs, but it came to life with a splutter, and immediately an old piece of machinery started to move across the space.

Tony and the kids hopped on before it could get out of reach, Peter clinging to the middle pole as they made the slow trip across. Sarah seemed quite at ease as she beamed at her brother, arms spread like she was pretending to surf. 

When the machinery came to a stop at the other side, Sam helped Sarah and Peter off while Tony followed close behind.

“Tony, look. It’s another one of Erik’s notes.”

“Who’s Erik?” Sarah asked as Peter handed him the note.

Yesterday I met some people that did not want to shoot me on sight. Shocking I know. We traded some supplies and went on our merry way.

They had kids with them and they seemed pretty scared. I almost told them about this place. What if they’re like the others? What if…

You know what? I don’t care. What’s the point of surviving if you don’t have someone to laugh at your corny jokes?

Tomorrow, I’m going to search for them. See if they want to join me down here.

-Erik

“Tony.” Sam held something out to him. “It was by the generator.”

A gun.

Relief washed through him as he handed Sarah the note to read and went through the motions of checking the revolver, surprised to see that it was almost full of ammo. He tucked it into his pocket, feeling much more secure now that he had something to defend himself and Peter if any infected, or people, attacked them down here.

They advanced through the pitch black tunnels, the only sound being their footsteps and running water. It wasn’t long before the tunnel came to an end in the form of a set of doors, surrounded by what looked like children’s paintings.

All it did was remind Tony of Morgan’s kindergarten. There had been one wall dedicated to a mural painted by the kids, their cartoonish drawings having looked just like these. The paintings completely surrounded the door and covered the walls around it, the sight almost creepy.

“Do you think there’s still people in there?” Sarah asked as she ran her fingers over one of the drawings. It was a blob that looked vaguely like a person holding hands with another person. two big smiles on their faces. “It’s… really quiet.”

Tony gently pulled Sarah away from the doors and behind him and pulled out the revolver. He listened for any sound, but the teen was right. It was completely silent.

The second he pushed the door open, something fell from above. Bottles, held in a crate, tied up with a rope triggered to let go the second someone opened the door. Tony recognised the alarm immediately, an alarm used to alert the people inside of any intruders. When the room remained silent with no signs of infected or people, Tony let out a breath and stepped into the room.

“What was that?” Peter asked as he followed Tony in, glass crunching beneath his shoes.

“A sound trap.” Sam replied. “Someone used to live here. It doesn’t look like that’s the case anymore.”

As the group advanced into the hideout, memories started to hit Tony like a truck.

There was evidence of children everywhere. Whether it be through the stacks of toys and books scattered around the space, or the small tables that were short enough for children to sit at. Tony gulped as Peter and Sarah took off ahead, completely overcome with excitement as they looked around. The area was dreary, but that didn’t seem to affect the kids at all.

The mural inside the room was much larger than the one outside, much like the one that had been inside Morgan’s kindergarten. It was a castle, most likely painted by one of the adults, while the children contributed with their own drawings closer to the floor where they could reach. The kid’s drawings consisted of more blob’s holding hands and animals.

There was something written on the front of the castle, but Tony had to get closer to read it.

XAVIER’S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS

On the left of the castle was a list of names.

Charles Xavier
Erik Lehnsherr
Raven Darkholme

Jean Grey
Scott Summers
Alex Summers
…

There were a few other names, but Tony couldn’t bring himself to read any more. He couldn’t when he knew most, if not all of these kids were dead. Things had been untouched down here for too long.

Tony turned away from the mural to observe the rest of the space. More shelves filled with toys and books, even a soccer goal positioned against the back wall. On the tables were stacks of paper, some with half-drawn drawings on them, others with nothing. The pencils had been left behind like there was the intention to come back and finish the drawings.

It was a school. They’d made a school down here in the sewers to make the kid’s lives more enjoyable, to hide from the rest of the cruel world.

Whether someone left the door open or they were killed by raiders, Tony didn’t want to know.

Instead of letting himself think about it, Tony made his way over to what looked like a workbench and started to sift through the items towered on top of it. Most of it was useless stationary supplies, but what was hidden beneath the table itself was just what Tony wanted to see.

It was a rifle, hooked to the underside of the table out of sight, much like the one Tony had stolen in Boston. Like the revolver, it was almost full with ammo, and Tony suspected he’d find more hidden around if he looked hard enough.

Tony hooked the rifle onto his backpack, drawing reassurance from the familiar weight. He made his way over to a set of shelves and started to dig through it for anything useful, ammunition in particular.

There was nothing of use in terms of a weapon or ammunition, but he did find something of interest.

An old journal tucked between some picture books, completely empty and in perfect condition. It had a dark red leather cover with only a few tears, but it wasn’t like the kid would mind. A small smile pulled at Tony’s lips as he flicked through the pages, thankful to see that every page was completely blank. Hopefully it was a good enough replacement for the kid’s old one.

On a lower shelf was a zip-lock bag of coloured pencils. He hesitated for just a moment before he snagged those as well.

He looked up in search of Peter, soon spotting him tucked behind another shelf, digging through its contents much like Tony had. Sarah was beside him, the two conversing in low tones as they move objects aside.

Tony made his way over to the kids, ignoring Sam’s watchful eye that followed him like a hawk.

“Hey, Pete.” Tony said once he was close enough, catching Peter’s attention immediately. Sarah also turned to him, curious. “Found these for you.”

Tony offered the journal and pencils, a slight tremor to his own hands as he held it between them.

“Wow.” Peter’s eyes brightened as he took the journal. He flicked through the pages a few times, eyes wide with interest before he closed it again and took the pencils next. To Tony’s surprise, Peter’s eyes were wet when he looked up at Tony, his knuckles whitening around the journal. “Thank you, Tony.”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Tony reached over and squeezed Peter’s shoulder. The kid leaned into his touch the same way Morgan used to, and that was enough for him to pull his hand back after a few short seconds. “Alright, let’s keep on going.”

“Oh, come on!” Peter whined, but his tone was wobbly. “There’s actually shit to do here! Can we just stay a few more minutes?”

Sarah nodded along eagerly, sporting the same puppy eyes as Peter.

The same look Morgan used to give him. The look that made him give in every time.

“We could use a break.” Sam interjected from the other side of the room. “Especially you.”

“Okay.” Tony nodded, defeated. “Not for long, though.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stark!”

Tony didn’t have the heard to correct him when Peter bounded off to one of the tiny tables with Sarah trailing behind, almost breaking the chair at the force at which he sat down. Without much care, he moved the abandoned drawings out of the way and placed his open journal down. Next, he threw off his backpack and dug around until he found what he was looking for. The grey-lead pencil.

Peter’s excitement practically radiated around the room as he hunched over his notebook and started to sketch. Sarah followed suit with a piece of paper, eyes staring longingly at the zip-lock bag of coloured pencils Tony found.

“You can use them too.” Peter nudged the older teen without looking at her. “I don’t need them yet.”

“Thanks!”

Sarah poured out the pencils with just as much excitement as Peter and immediately got to drawing.

Tony’s heart hurt. He turned away from the innocent sight and made his way to one of the bigger tables where Sam was already sat watching the kids with tears in his eyes. Tony didn’t question it as he slumped down on the opposite end of the table, backpack on the floor as he shut his eyes for a brief moment.

“Looks like we have two aspiring artists.” Sam eventually spoke up, quiet enough to go unheard of by Sarah and Peter. Peter was incredibly concentrated, tongue poking out of his lips as he sketched. Whatever he was drawing, it was important. “Sarah’s always had a talent for art. She got that from Mom.”

Tony opened his eyes and found himself watching Peter and Sarah again.

“I’ve heard of places like this.” Tony side-eyed Sam, who had leant back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “That people would use places like this to hideout from the infection and raiders. You know, I had a friend who disappeared to do the same. She’d just had a baby. I never heard from her again. I still don’t know where she went, or if she even made it.”

Tony couldn’t find anything to say, so he kept his lips pressed in a thin like. Sam didn’t seem to mind his silence.

“It looks like they turned they turned this into a school. I bet the kids would have loved it.” Sam picked up one of the toys left on the table, a stuffed animal. It was missing an eye. “You think they just left, or…?

“No.” Tony shook his head. “They would’ve taken their weapons with them.”

“Yep.” Sam sighed. “It’s been in this state for a while. If there was anyone alive, we’d know by now.”

There was nothing else to say.

Tony watched Peter hide his drawing from Sarah, the two giggling amongst themselves.

“Tell me something.” Tony eyed Sam again. “Am I a bad guy?”

“What?”

Tony fully turned around to look at Sam, eyebrows raised.

He was the last person Sam should be asking.

“Killing those hunters. Leaving you and Peter behind to die to save my sister. Am I a bad guy?”

Tony opened his mouth, then hesitated.

Yes, no.

“I don’t know what you’re waiting on, man.” Sam’s gaze returned to the kids who continued to hide their drawings from each other. His smile was sadder now, almost melancholy. “The answer’s easy. I am a bad guy because I did bad guy things.”

Tony just nodded along, unsure where the younger man was going with this.

He had done many more bad things than Sam could even begin to imagine. The younger had no idea who he was.

“But you get it, though.” Sam’s voice lowered. He pointed a subtle finger in Peter’s direction. “You might not be his father, but you were someone’s. You see, I can tell.”

It felt like a switch had been flipped. Tony’s guard was immediately up as his shoulder’s tightened, lips pressed in a thin line. His heart roared in his ears as he thought about Pepper and Morgan. He tried to imagine their voices, but even through his nightmares, what they sounded like had started to fade. When he thought about them, all he could see was their lifeless eyes staring at nothing as destruction occurred around them.

He could almost smell the wreckage from that day.

Tony’s eyes wandered back to Peter, who continued to sketch, oblivious to the inner turmoil going on inside Tony’s mind.

“I’m more her father than I am her brother.” Sam continued as if he was completely unaware of the affect his words were having on Tony. Or, maybe that was intention. “When our parents died, there was no choice but to be that for her. I would do it all over again.”

The longer he sat there, the quicker the panic attack symptoms started to affect him. Sam’s words echoed around his skull as he shoved his chair back hard enough for it to screech against the damp floor, his backpack already slung over one arm as he desperately tried to get himself together.

When he looked at Sam, there was a look of realisation on his face, then guilt.

Whatever he was feeling guilty about, Tony didn’t care anymore.

He had to get moving or he would crumble.

“Let’s get moving. We’ve waited around long enough.”

The words were more directed at Peter and Sarah, who looked devastated to have their moment of peace severed. Guilt swarmed Tony’s stomach like a hive of bees, but he ignored it and started scope out the tunnel that connected to the room for anything moving.

However, it was more to get out of sight. The second he disappeared around the corner, Tony braced against the wall with one hand, the other resting over his pounding heart. His throat constricted painfully, his ability to breath becoming harder as the panic attack threatened to overcome him. After a few seconds, he heard the others starting to make their way down the tunnel, their voices echoing around his head.

Resorting to old strategies that Jarvis taught him all those years ago, Tony managed to reign in his emotions just enough to stave off the panic attack. It continued to brew in the back of his mind, but as the other three came around the corner to meet him, he was standing up straight under the illusion that nothing was wrong.

Even then, Peter seemed to notice. He sent Tony a weird look, but thankfully, didn’t question it.

Tony didn’t know what he would have said if he did.

They continued through the tunnels, where there was more evidence that this place had once been lived in. When they came into another open space, Tony spotted the infected far too late to slip into stealth.

A runner thundered towards them the second they stepped past the threshold, arms flailing and screaming. Tony’s gun was out within seconds, body positioned in front of Peter as he unloaded two bullets into the thing. The runner went down with a screech, body thrashing for a few seconds before it didn’t at all.

That wasn’t the last of them. Another runner and a clicker, obviously attracted by the noise, revealed themselves and hurtled towards the group. Sam started to fire along with Tony, the runner going down quickly, but the clicker was harder. Just before it reached the stairwell they were stood on top of, Sam delivered the last deadly shot in its fungus covered head, its body falling down with a thud on the stairs.

The group stood in a tense silence for a few more moments, but when no more infected came, they relaxed.

“Well… I guess we know what happened to these people.” Peter whispered as they stepped down the stairs, past the clicker that laid face down. “Fuck. What about the kids?”

“Seeing how there was a clicker, they’ve been gone a long time.” Sam replied. “We keep moving forward. All we can do is hope that there isn’t any more of them.”

The first path they went up was a dead end, but they were greeted with the sight of a long decayed body. The skeleton was slumped awkwardly against an old water barrel, still clothed. On the table above it was another note, and Tony almost didn’t want to know what it said.

Hey Raven,

I just wanted to drop you a quick line and say these rain-catchers were a great idea. Super smart to gather water without leaving the place. I hope you don’t mind, but I gave the kids a couple of water guns. So of course… I’ve been drenched all day. All of them, but mostly Scott, like to pretend they have superpowers. Did you know he calls himself Cyclops?

If you don’t want them to have the water guns, let me know and I’ll take them back.
See you at dinner tonight. Fair warning, though, your brother is making his special ‘meatloaf’ again.

-Erik

Tony’s heart sank as he turned to look at the infected they’d just killed. It felt different from the usual infected he came across. All around them was indicators of who had lived here, the notes especially. When he killed other infected, he didn’t know their stories. He didn’t know of the people they used to be.

But here, Tony knew.

He found himself asking the same question as Peter.

What happened to the kids?

They pressed on. Most of the tunnels looked the same, scattered with objects of people who used to call it home. He looked for supplies as he walked, ducking into what used to be storage areas before the outbreak that had been turned into hideouts. There was a lot of medical supplies in them, enough that he could offer some to Sam and Sarah too.

When Tony opened another door, expecting to see another storage area, he wasn’t prepared for the sight he saw.

Bathed in the light from his flashlight was a message scratched into the floor.

THEY DIDN’T SUFFER.

Peter stepped into the room behind him, eyes immediately locked onto the message. Before Tony could even think of what else might be in the room, Peter powered forwards, only to stop dead in his tracks.

“Oh my god.” The kid whispered. “Tony…”

The protective instincts that he had left had Tony moving in front of Peter to shield him from whatever he’d seen, only to see the gruesome sight himself.

Bodies, covered by a sheet. Four small bodies.

Children.

Next to them was a body of an adult, a gun still in the skeleton’s hand.

“Come on, kiddo.” Tony’s fingers were numb when he turned around and placed both hands on Peter’s shoulders with the intention of directing him out of the room and away from the bodies. Peter’s face was as white as a sheet, his eyes still staring at the bodies. “Don’t look at that.”

“There’s another note.” Peter muttered and pointed in the general direction. “Do you think… they did it?”

Sam peered into the room, mouth open to ask what they were doing, but then he spotted the bodies.

“I don’t know. Let’s go.”

As Tony urged Peter to the door, Sam stepped past both of them and made his way over to the bodies. He picked up the note and began to read it out loud.

We’re trapped. I think everyone else is dead. Some of the little ones are with me, there’s infected pounding on the door. I don’t know how long we’ll hold out. If Charles, Erik and the others are alive, maybe they can reach us. They have to reach us.

If it comes down to it, I’ll make it quick.

-Raven

Obviously, it had come down to it.

He felt sick.

“Jesus.” Sam whispered. “This is fucked up.”

“There’s no use dwelling on it.” Tony muttered, even though all he could think about was Morgan and Pepper. His hands were still on Peter’s shoulders, keeping him away from the sight. “There’s nothing we can do for them. We have to get out of here.”

“If there was infected pounding on the door…” Sam replied as they stepped out of the room and closed the door behind them. Sarah seemed to know exactly what they had found, her face downcast as her brother joined her at her side. “They could still be down here. We have to be careful from now on. No loud noises.”

Tony silently agreed and released his hands from Peter’s shoulders, who seemed to slowly be coming back to himself. Without another word, the group continued down the tunnel until they reached a dead end.

Something felt off about the air down here. Tony made his way over to a gate, which was the only way through if they wanted to get out, the darkness on the other side unsettling. Thankfully, it wasn’t locked, but the loud crash of a barrel colliding with the ground broke him from the depressive haze he’d fallen under.

Another sound trap.

This trap, however, seemed to have much more detrimental effects. Behind him, something clicked, and he turned around just in time to see a massive metal gate slam down to the ground between the group. Sarah barely missed getting killed by the gate as it fell, the teen having stumbled backwards just in time.

Tony’s stomach dropped with dread when only he and Sarah were on one side, Peter and Sam trapped on the other.

“Sarah!” Sam yelled as he hurried forwards, reaching through the gap through the barred window in the gate. “Sarah, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay!” Sarah reached for her brother’s hand, fear evident on her face as she turned to Tony for help.

Tony could only stare at Peter, who stood on the other side, eyebrows creased with worry.

“Fuck.” Tony swore. “That was me. Must’ve triggered some fucking safety gate or something.”

The sound the gate had made was loud. Loud enough that any infected lurking within the sewer system would be attracted to it, which only made Tony more on edge as he tried to think of a way to get to the kid. He and Sam tried everything, but there was no way to lift the heavy gate.

Before they could come up with a solution, the sound of infected interrupted.

“Clickers!” Peter yelled, backing up into Sam. “Sam, clickers!”

“Man, this gate isn’t fucking budging!” Sam panicked as he shoved Peter behind him, most likely out of reflex. Tony felt his own panic increasing tenfold as the clickers got closer, the knowledge that he had no way to protect Peter settling over him like a cloud. He tried one last time to get the gate open, but there was no way they’d be able to move it. “Tony!”

“Give this to Peter.” Tony shoved the revolver through the barred window to Sam. “Just go. Just fucking go!”

“Sarah, you stay with him!”

Sam looked on the brink of tears at having to leave Sarah.

“Sam, we have to fucking move!” Peter tugged on Sam’s arm, desperate. “Now!”

“You keep her safe!”

With that, Sam and Peter took off, a horde of clickers and runners following close behind.

Fuck.

As he watched them hurtle past, both him and Sarah keeping silent so their position wouldn’t be relieved, all Tony could do was think the worst possible outcome.

That Peter would end up like Pepper and Morgan. That he’d end up like Natasha.

He couldn’t lose someone else.

He couldn’t lose another kid.

Chapter Text

Once the sounds of infected started to disappear, Tony took a short breath and took a few steps way from the gate. If he didn’t breathe, he’d have a panic attack, and that was the last thing Sarah needed. That was the last thing Peter needed.

“They’re gonna be fine.”

Tony wasn’t sure who he was trying to reassure.

Sarah, or himself.

“Yeah, I know.” Sarah nodded a little too enthusiastically. She kept glancing at the gate like it was going to magically open with her brother alive and well on the other side. “I know they will.”

“Come on, kid. Let’s see if we can find our way out of this place, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Tony hesitated by the gate for a few seconds and listened out for any sign of Sam and Peter’s return. There was nothing but the faint gunfire and screaming infected, too far away for them to make their way back so soon.

There was no other choice but to leave them behind and hope they’d make it out alive.

There was no other choice but to trust Sam.

If Natasha were here, they probably wouldn’t have even gotten into this mess. She would have seen the trap attached to the gate before Tony’s fingers could even wrap around the handle. She’d always been good at spotting anything suspicious, another reason why Tony had always teased her about being a spy before the outbreak.

If Natasha had been with them, they wouldn’t have gone through this hell of a city at all.

The logical part of his brain knew Sam wouldn’t just let Peter die to save himself, not when Sarah’s life was also on the line. Sam wouldn’t leave until he saw his sister was safe. Even then, in the short time they’d known each other, Sam didn’t seem to be the type of person that would leave a child behind to defend himself.

Tony took another breath, this one steadier, and pulled himself together. Whether Sarah noticed his minor freak out or not, she didn’t say, her attention focussed on the darkness that lay waiting for them.

“Stay close and quiet.” Tony said as he unhooked the rifle. “We don’t know what’s lurking down here. If it’s anything like that shit back there… we have to be careful.”

“Stay close and quiet.” Sarah repeated his words, much like she did with her brother. “Got it.”

Tony kept his steps light as they made their way through the darkness, rifle pointed in front of him as he tiptoed into a bigger room. Like everywhere else, it was littered with personal belongings, but unlike the first room they’d stepped into, this one was a complete mess. Objects were strewn everywhere, some drenched in dried blood, others torn to shreds from being trampled on.

If the mess was any indication, the infected had been through here. A lot of infected.

If it was anything like Peter and Sam were dealing with, Tony had a good feeling that they were still here.

It wasn’t long before Tony felt the back of his neck prickle with unease. The second he stepped around a stack of crates he felt like he was being watched.

He threw up a hand to stop Sarah, then placed a finger against his lips to stop her from asking why. Sarah sent him a questioning look but did as she was told.

Tony stood perfectly still and listened. A few seconds later, he heard the faintest of shuffles, then a low wet gargle. He turned his torso just slightly to shine his flashlight deeper into the room, and practically the second he moved, he spotted a half-fungus covered head disappear behind a large bookshelf. If Tony had blinked, he would’ve missed it.

Tony’s suspicion was correct. Now that the shelf was doused in light, he could see the shadow of an infected waiting to pounce. It twitched violently, followed by another low animalistic gargle. It didn’t react to the light, like all infected, and was stuck under the illusion that its prey were unaware of its presence.

When the infected peaked around the corner of the shelf again, its sole eye locked right on Tony and Sarah, Sarah let out a near-silent gasp. The infected only stared for a few seconds before it ducked back into its hiding spot.

It was unrealistic to believe that this was the only stalker watching them right now. Tony started to look around for something to use as a distraction, trying to keep his movement as minimal as possible. He heard another shuffle somewhere behind him, then another somewhere further in the room.

Once he properly moved, there wouldn’t be much time. Tony gestured for Sarah to keep behind him as he tip-toed to the closet shelf. The stalkers activity increased around him, and as quick as he could, he snatched a small toy car and hurled it in the opposite direction to him.

No infected was intelligent enough to realise it was a trap. At least three stalkers revealed themselves and hurtled in the general direction Tony had thrown the toy, scrambling on all fours to get there as fast as they could.

Tony aimed the rifle at the back of the closest stalker’s head and fired twice. Blood splattered as two stalkers went down, the others revealing themselves from their hiding spots at the loud bangs.

There were still three of the things ambling around, one already hiding in a doorway while the others scrambled towards Tony and Sarah. Tony fired and missed, but his second attempt hit its target in the shoulder. The stalker went down from the force of the bullet at such close range, screaming and writhing as it struggled to get back up. It wouldn’t be long before it achieved its task, so Tony used the few seconds he had to finish it off.

Tony closed the distance between himself and the stalker and kicked it in the head once to force it back onto his back. Tony ended its life with one fatal stomp, it’s weak, infected skull crushed under his boot with a sickening squelch.

The sight didn’t faze Tony. He turned around and hit the second stalker in the face with the butt of his rifle, then repeated the same action with the few seconds he had to spare. There was still another stalker lurking somewhere within the room, but when he shone his flashlight on its last location, it was gone.

Fuck, he hated these things.

Before he could resume the search for the last infected, he heard the rush of footsteps behind him, accompanied by Sarah’s sudden cry.

“Tony, behind you!”

The stalker tackled Tony from behind and sent him to the ground in one swift move. The rifle clattered across the floor and out of reach, the stalker’s hands grabbing at anything and everything as it tried to bite anywhere it could reach. Tony thrashed violently, struggling under the weight of the infected. It was on the bigger side, which made it almost impossible to shake it off.

For the few seconds that the infected was on top of him, he was sure he was going to get bitten.

He was sure this was going to finally be the end after twenty gruelling years.

Instead, three deafening gunshots pierced his eardrums. The stalker instantly stopped moving, its body slack when Tony shoved it off him. He heaved in deep breaths, eyes wide as he rolled over to look at Sarah. She had the rifle in shaking hands, her own chest heaving with effort as she stared down at Tony.

“Are you okay?” The teen asked, eyes wide. Her voice was muffled behind the ringing in Tony’s ears, but he could just make out the words. “Did you- did it get get you?”

“No- fuck, I don’t know.” Tony scrambled to check everywhere he could, hands running over the back of his neck and head. His hands came back blood-free, and there was no new pain anywhere in his body that hadn’t been there before. “See anything on my neck? Head? Anywhere?”

“No.” Sarah lowered the rifle as she peered at the back of Tony’s neck. “I don’t see anything.”

“That was too fucking close.” Tony swore, the adrenaline starting to fade as he hunched over to catch his breath. After a few seconds, he straightened up and took the rifle back from Sarah and reloaded it, his brain struggling to recover from one of the closest encounters he’d had with an infected. “You saved my ass there, kid. Thanks.”

Sarah only nodded, her eyes as wide as saucers. It looked like she was entering some stage of shock.

“Are you okay?” Tony found himself asking as he subconsciously ran his hand over the back of his neck a second time. There was no breaks in his skin, no blood. Just sweat and dirt. “No bites?”

“No bites.” Sarah repeated. “I’m okay.”

Tony nodded, unable to force anymore words from his lips.

That had been far too close.

Even though the room was now clear, Tony didn’t want to take any chances. He scoped out the entirety of the base for any more of the fuckers, and was relieved to find that there were none.

The room infested with stalkers turned out to be a sleeping area combined with a classroom. Three sets of bunk beds were positioned against the back wall, a group of child-sized tables not far away, surrounded by the shelves the stalkers had used as cover. In front of the tables was a massive whiteboard, still standing, the remains of math problems still written in black ink.

There was just as many toys and books here as there was in the other room, and all Tony could do was shake his head in disbelief. The more he discovered about this place, the worse he felt. There had been at least fifteen people living down here, perhaps even more.

Some of them were the stalkers, no doubt.

The only logical outcome was that someone had left the fucking door open. That was all it could take for an infected horde to destroy the place and infect, and kill, everyone inside.

“It looks like there was a lot of them here.” Sarah whispered as she picked up an old teddy bear, which was falling apart at the seams. The child it belonged too was likely long gone. Maybe, it was even one of those kids they’d found. “People, I mean. There’s so much… stuff.”

Tony felt sick as he ran his fingers over one of the bunks, so many little toys and blankets that belonged to the kids left behind with the intention that their owners would come back.

“Yeah, looks like it.”

He removed his hand and concentrated on looking for an exit. Faintly, he could hear gunfire.

They were still alive.

“It must have been good, while it lasted.” Sarah placed the bear down with a sad sigh, then gestured to another whiteboard. This one was mounted to the wall, hanging precariously on its side. “Look. They had so many rules in place to keep this place safe from the infected. They had everything planned, they even had traps, but they still couldn’t keep them out. Why couldn’t they just do that?”

“I don’t know, kid. All it takes is one open door. They didn’t deserve what happened to them.” He spotted a ladder above them, locked in place. If he could get Sarah up there, she could lower it down for him. Thinking about what to do next was enough of a distraction from the thoughts whirling around his mind. “Think you could get up there and free that ladder for me?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

As Tony boosted Sarah onto the higher ledge, the gunfire started to get louder. Sarah struggled to loosen the ladder, the kid swearing under her breath as she hurriedly looked behind her as the noise got closer. For a terrifying second, Tony thought the kid might leave him behind to go find her brother, but the latch finally gave way and the ladder slid down with a screech.

“Do you hear that?” Sarah asked as he hastily climbed up. Tony could hear shouting now, mixed with the gunfire and infected. “They’re close! The tunnel must loop around, we have to hurry!”

Tony and Sarah jumped down from the ledge, flashes of white emitting from one of the tunnels. Just as he was about to go investigate, two bodies skidded out from the tunnel and almost fell over each other from how fast they were moving.

Sam was clutching Peter’s upper arm with one hand, the other with his gun raised in the direction they had just come from. Sam fired again, and Tony though he heard a faint thud of a body in return.

When Sam registered who he was looking at, relief mixed with elation ignited his face, but not for long. Tony could hear the infected approaching quickly, and there was no time for him to even check if Peter was okay.

“Sarah!” Sam called out as he ran towards Sarah, dragging a haggard Peter with him. “Are you okay?!”

“We have to move!” Tony called out even as he reached for Peter. The kid had the revolver in his hand, but there was no way of telling if he’d actually tried to use it. He replaced Sam’s hold on the kid’s arm and started to force him along, terribly aware of how terrible the kid looked. “Come on, Pete.”

“F-Fuck!” Peter coughed and almost hunched over from the force of it. “There’s too m-many of them! They k-kept coming from everywhere!”

The group took off just as the first clicker came around the corner. They moved through winding tunnels with no real direction, just with the hope that they would eventually come to a way out. It wasn’t long before they came to a dead end, a gate with a crowbar locking it on the other side. Sam and Tony tried the best they could together to get it open, but it was no use. The crowbar wouldn’t budge.

“Wait!” Sarah suddenly sprinted away from where she’d been holding onto Peter and threw herself to the ground. She crawled through a narrow gap in the fence and sprung up on the other side, her panicked brother staring at her wide-eyed and speechless as she grabbed the crowbar and yanked on it. It took a few tries before the crowbar released, the tool clattering to the ground as Sarah opened the gate. “Hurry, they’re coming!”

On the other side of the gate was a stairwell, the first real sign of an exit to the outside world since they’d entered the tunnels. The group hightailed it, the panic palpable in the air as they raced up the stairs. Peter struggled to keep up, but Tony’s hand around his arm was enough to keep him moving. As he ran, the sounds of infected drilling at his skull, his mind threatened to throw him back into the night of the outbreak.

He could almost feel Morgan clinging to him, her arms wrapped tight around his neck as she cried for her mother. He could hear the screeching tires of the car that had killed his wife and baby.

Tony tightened his hold on Peter to ensure they wouldn’t get separated and pushed the memories away.

Eventually, after four flights of stairs, they reached a storage area. Light from outside shone through the windows, and Tony couldn’t have been more relieved. As Sam ran over to the only door that lead outside, Tony stopped Peter and checked him for any injuries. Aside from the painful wheezing, the kid was luckily unscathed.

The kid was covered in dried blood, both his own and infected’s, almost his whole shirt stained with the substance.

After this shit was over, Tony was going to find him some new clothes.

“The damn thing won’t budge!” Sam screamed, then yelled in fury as he kicked the door to no avail. “Fuck!”

“Sam, give me a boost!” Sarah yelled at her brother. “I can open the door from the other side.”

“Sarah-” Sam paused, then sighed shakily. “Okay, but make it quick!”

“You’re not staying in here.” Tony said to Peter as Sam boosted his sister through the broken window above the door. “Get outside and use that fucking inhaler.”

“But-”

“Kid, just do as I say, for once. Get out of here!”

Peter looked reluctant, but was in no state to argue. When Sam boosted him over the door, the kid practically fell out the window as opposed to climbing out, which caused panic to shoot up Tony’s spine when he heard the thud of the kid landing on the other side. Sarah started to talk to him, but there was no time to ask if the kid was okay. The infected were already on the last set of stairs.

The next few minutes was a blur. As Sarah struggled to open the door, Tony and Sam fought off as many of the infected as they could. When she finally got it open, they quickly hurried out of the room and slammed the door behind them. With Sam’s help, Tony shoved an old vending machine in front of the door, eliminating any chance of the infected breaking down the door and escaping.

“Oh, are you fucking kidding me?” Peter suddenly snapped from his place on the top stair, inhaler in hand. He pointed a shaky window at the wall beside the door, which was covered in red spray paint. An unhinged laugh bubbled up Tony’s throat when he read the words, almost unable to believe what he was seeing. “Thanks for the warning on the other side guys.”

WARNING

INFECTED INSIDE

DO NOT OPEN

“Yeah, some fucking warning.” Sam, doubled over, shook his head. “Fresh air, thank God. How are you doing, little sister? You okay?”

As Sam and Sarah checked each other over, Tony made his way over to Peter and sat down on the stair beside him. The kid was still breathing unevenly, but looked relatively okay despite the circumstances.

Peter looked relieved to see him.

“That was scary.” Peter muttered. “There were so fucking many of them and there was nowhere to hide. Did you see any?”

“Yep. Stalkers.” Peter’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. “You know, one of the fucker’s almost got me. If it wasn’t for Sarah, then… I would’ve been good as dead.”

“What?!” To Tony’s surprise, Peter looked a lot more horrified than he expected. He almost thought Peter would laugh it off and say something sarcastic, but the look on his face was entirely different. It almost looked like he was going to cry, his hand moving to grab the wrist that housed his bite marks. “Are you okay? Are you sure it didn’t bite you?”

“Don’t worry, kiddo. I’m still kicking. No bites.”

Peter’s eyes looked over him, as if he was looking for the lie in Tony’s words.

“Kid.” Tony caught Peter’s eyes. “I’m fine. Sarah shot it before it could do anything.”

“I know, I know.” The kid sniffed a little. “Just… making sure. Since, you know…”

Peter opened and closed his mouth a few times like he was going to say something, but eventually seemed to give up. Tony didn’t know what else to say, the kids crestfallen expression doing enough to make his heart twist.

“Did you get any use out of that?” Tony pointed to the revolver sat between them on the step.

“Yeah, a little. I think I got a good hit on a clicker!” Peter suddenly beamed at him, his eyes brightening with pride. “But then the fucking asthma attack started and I couldn’t concentrate on shooting and running at the same time. Fuck, I can’t even run without needing this stupid medicine… no wonder the soldiers in the QZ hated me so much. I don’t know why they kept me around… but at least the fresh air’s helping now.”

“You did good, Pete.” He settled for patting Peter’s shoulder before he got to his feet, despite how much his muscles begged for him to stay down. He picked up the revolver and tucked it into his jeans. “Even for a kid who has asthma, you can run pretty fast.”

Peter smiled up at him, but it seemed strained.

Tony wished he knew what to say.

He always used to with Morgan.

“So, Sam.” Tony stretched his arms in an attempt to get rid of the stiffness. “That radio tower. Where is it?”

“We’re close.” Sam gestured to the horizon. “You see it?”

He did. The radio tower stood out against the skyline, towering over the buildings in the town they had stumbled into.

“Alright.” Tony turned back to Sam. “Let’s get going.”

-

The town was like most. Abandoned, decayed, silent.

Remnants of old lives were everywhere, scattered within houses and all through the streets. Sam led the way, the group scavenging through most of the houses for any useful supplies. They hadn’t been walking for long, half an hour at most, but everyone was exhausted. The kids especially, who looked dead on their feet.

They found themselves inside a larger house, Sam looking through the kitchen draws while Tony went through the hallway cupboards. In the living room, Sarah and Peter sat together on an old beat up couch, resting.

Their conversation echoed into the hall, loud enough that Tony was forced to listen to everything they were staying.

“It was pretty intense back there, huh?”

“Yeah, it was.” Peter replied. “I thought we were going to get lost in there. Everything looked the same, and there was infected everywhere. Tony said you saw stalkers?”

“Stalkers… is that what you call them?”

“I mean, that’s what Tony calls them. He and his friend Natasha have all these weird names for the infected. Weird, but pretty cool, too.”

Tony’s shoulders tensed at the mention of Natasha and the rush of pain that followed.

“Really? Weird. We did see them, I even killed one!” Sarah sounded proud of herself, and Tony couldn’t help but agree. She’d really saved his life. In a way, he was in her debt. “I hate those things. If Tony wasn’t there I probably would have died, I didn’t even know they were there, they’re so quiet. I guess the name makes sense.”

“I’ve never seen one. I hope I never do.” Peter coughed. “That’s so awesome that you killed one.”

“Yeah… I don’t know, it wasn’t so awesome at the time. It would have bitten Tony if I didn’t. I’m just happy I didn’t miss.” Tony shivered at the thought. When he peered into the room, Peter had that look on his face again. Worry. “How did you two meet, anyways? Since he’s not your Dad.”

“Oh… I… um.” Peter hesitated, obviously struggling to come up with what to say. “A friend of mine, Carol, asked him to take me to the Fireflies. We’ve been travelling together for a few days.”

“Oh.” Sarah paused. “Well, you seem to get along well. I really thought he was your Dad.”

“Yeah, I guess we do. I mostly just boss him around.” Peter snickered. “But he’s not so bad.”

Tony smiled a little at Peter’s words, however it dropped with frustration at finding nothing of use in the cupboards. The second storey was blocked off by debris, as were most of the rooms, so he made his way back into the living room. The kids had fallen silent, Sarah picking at a loose thread on the couch while Peter scribbled away in his new journal.

From where Tony was standing, he saw a glimpse of red and blue before Peter snapped the book shut.

“Find anything useful?”

“No.” Tony shook his head. “Nothing. Place’s been stripped already.”

“Man.” Peter sighed as he tucked his journal back into his backpack. “What would this place have been like without infected? I can’t even imagine it. People could just go about their lives without worrying about getting infected, or being murdered every day.”

Fuck, Tony wished Peter and every other kid born into this world didn’t have to live like this.

It just wasn’t fair.

“I was about five when the outbreak hit.” Sam began, a troubled look on his face as he recounted his memories. “My memory’s pretty hazy, but… I remember living in a neighbourhood just like this. I remember some of what it was like before everything went to shit.”

“Woah, really?” Peter looked incredibly intrigued. “What do you remember?”

“Ahh… barbecues. Our parents, they would throw these crazy big barbecues and invite a ton of people. I remember the smell more than anything. Weird.” Sam smiled fondly, but sadly. “We used to own a boat, too. Mom and Dad had a seafood business. That’s all I really remember about it, they didn’t like talking about it after the outbreak. That old boat is probably still out there, rotting in the sea along with everything else.”

“What about you?” Sarah turned to Tony. “What was your life like? Where did you live?”

Peter perked up at the question. Tony tensed, bombarded with the memories with his family. Moving to Texas, playing in the backyard with Morgan, late nights with Pepper where they would just relax and watch old movies. He’d had barbecues every now and then, too. The only people he invited were Rhodey and Yinsen.

His life outside of Stark Industries had been all he wished for. In his little home in Texas he’d sometimes been able to forget he was Howard Stark’s son, or that he was a famous billionaire.

“Texas.”

“Texas?” Peter repeated. “But you don’t have an accent?”

“I wasn’t born there, we- I moved.” Tony ignored the look on Peter’s face when he slipped up. “It was… quieter.”

Quieter than New York. Quieter for Morgan, and for Pepper.

His perfect life, as far away from the spotlight as he could get without leaving the country entirely.

“Did you live in a neighbourhood like this?” Sarah asked. “What was it like?”

“You could say that.” Tony turned away and started to head out of the house. He couldn’t have this conversation. “It was just a neighbourhood. We should keep moving, we’re wasting time.”

To his relief, no one questioned his abrupt change of topic.

However, he didn’t miss Peter’s curious stare.

The group left the abandoned house and made their way through a few more streets, all looking the same as each other. Worn down, dirty and disheveled. At the end of one of them were two stray dogs playing, playfully biting and snarling at each other. It was odd, to see such a sight after the horrors they’d just witnessed in the sewers.

When the dogs caught sight of the group, they scampered off into the bushes with a yelp.

“What is this?” Peter’s voice cut through the silence. Tony turned to the kid to see him looking at an old ice cream truck, eyebrows furrowed with confusion as he squinted at the menu. Most of it had flaked off, but a few of the ice cream selections and their prices were still there. “Is that… ice cream? Who stuck ice cream on their truck, and why?”

“It’s an ice cream truck!” Sarah replied. “Sam told me about these!”

“An ice cream truck?”

Christ, the kid had never even seen an ice cream truck before.

“Yep! You’ll never believe it, they used to drive around and sell ice cream out of a truck!”

“What?” Peter’s head snapped to Sarah, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “No way… Tony?”

It took a moment for Tony to realise he was being addressed, the creepy ice cream truck tune playing on repeat inside his head. Even after all these years, he hadn’t forgotten the sound. Morgan had always talked her way into getting an ice cream, mostly by bribing Tony, because Pepper had a much bigger resolve against their daughter’s puppy eyes. She might as well have been immune to them.

“It’s true. These things would drive around all day long and play loud, creepy music. Kids would come running from their houses for ice cream at the sound of it.”

“Psh, you’re totally fucking with me.” Peter outright laughed. “That’s too weird.”

“No, I’m serious. You’re looking at the proof right now.” Tony pointed to what was left of the menu. “Right there. Overpriced chocolate ice cream.”

Peter narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to decipher whether Tony was lying. After a few seconds, he seemed to come to his conclusion and turned back to the truck.

“Dude, you lived in a strange time.” Peter ran his fingers over the ice cream picture. “I wish I got to know what it was like.”

Neither Tony nor Sam knew how to respond to that. When Peter wasn’t looking, Sam sent Tony a meaningful look, one that was filled with grief. The younger man shook sadly shook his head, most likely out of disbelief, then turned away and resumed walking down the street. Sarah trailed behind her brother, Peter by her side as they happily chattered about how bizarre ice cream trucks sounded.

The town seemed far larger than it was at first glance. Tony trusted Sam knew what he was doing as he weaved through streets and ducked through alleyways, occasionally stopping to look for supplies in the odd house. The longer the walked, the more the kids started to slow, the events of the last twenty four hours definitely catching up with them despite the short rest they’d had in between.

Thankfully, they didn’t come into contact with any infected or hunters, but Tony kept an eye and ear out just incase.

“Hey, look. We’re close now.” Sam said as they entered what looked like to be the main street of the town, the road lined with shops. There were cars scattered everywhere, a few lodged in the storefronts. The area around one of the stores was scorched, a massive fire having burned there. Whatever building that was there was unrecognisable. “Once we get there we’ll hide out in a house until the others get there.”

Tony almost wanted to laugh. With the way the hunters had chased them all over the city, then the infected in the sewers, the chances of Sam’s friends being alive was slim to none.

But, in the very back of his mind, was hope.

“What if they’re dead?” Sarah stated as she and Peter kicked a rock between them along the tarmac. “We haven’t seen any signs of them.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Sam snapped. “We’re almost there.”

Tony looked to the end of the street, where above a few stores was the radio tower.

As he was calculating how much longer it would take, Tony’s eyes caught a flash of light. He’d only seen it for a split second, but after several encounters of avoiding snipers, Tony knew what to look out for.

At the same time he screamed for the others to get down, the first shot rang out.

The bullet hit the ground at Sam’s feet as Tony lurched forwards and grabbed the kids by their arms and pulled them behind the nearest car. Sam scrambled after them, eyes wide with shock as he collapsed against the side of the car. The window above Tony’s head smashed as another bullet pierced through it.

“Fucking sniper.” Sam swore, now looking angry more than anything. “For fuck’s sake, after everything- did you see where it came from?”

“That building at the end of the street, top floor.” Tony replied. “Alright. Stay here, and I’ll-”

“What?” Peter snapped. “Are you fucking cra-”

Tony threw up a finger to shush the kid and sat up straighter. He looked into Peter’s eyes and made sure his tone was stern.

“If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you.” Peter went to protest, but Tony shook his head again. Another two gunshots echoed down the street, both bullets lodged in the rusted metal of the car. “I’m gonna go around and try get in through the back. I’ll take him out.”

“But if you go out there, he’s gonna kill you. Then he’s gonna come and kill us!”

Peter, again, looked like he was on the verge of tears. The kid had his fingers clenched around Tony’s sleeve, his grip so tight that the fabric was almost suffocating around his wrist.

Tony gently pulled Peter’s fingers away and squeezed his hand.

“Do you trust me?”

Peter hesitated, eyebrows creasing with the effort not to cry. After a few seconds, he nodded once.

“Then you stay here and you don’t move. I won’t get shot.”

“Okay.” Peter sniffed. “Fine.”

“Good.” Tony squeezed Peter’s hand one last time, ignoring the voice in his head telling him not to get attached. When he pulled away, Peter looked like he wanted to follow, but thankfully remained crouched behind the car. Sam moved and placed his body over Peter and Sarah, arms protectively around the both of them as he glanced in the direction of the sniper. Another bullet lodged into the car, this time detaching one of the review mirrors. “All of you stay put until I get up there.”

“Stay here.” Sarah repeated. “We got it.”

Tony gave them one last look before he darted out of cover and to the next car. Predictably, the sniper fired a shot at him, but missed. Tony could see the glint of the weapon as it moved around, the sunlight hitting it perfectly to reveal its position. With ease, Tony ducked around behind the stores and crept along the wall, revolver out and ready.

The noise was sure to attract the rest of the hunters to their position. This entire time, the hunters had probably been looking high and low for them, furious that they’d gotten away. That was the exact reason that sniper was up in that building, just waiting for unsuspecting outsiders.

Tony progressed into the scorched building, timing his movements so he slipped into the open when the sniper was looking the other way. As he got closer, more voices made its way to his ears, along with the distant rumble of an engine.

Suddenly, the situation was more dire than it had ever been. As he hasted his pace, he became sloppy, and the sniper spotted him just as he ducked out of the burnt building and back into the alley.

Three consecutive shots fired after him, which alerted the other hunters in the area to flood towards his position.

Knowing he’d lost the element of surprise, Tony fired the second the first hunter came around the corner. He managed a headshot, the body slumping immediately as Tony hurried forward. The sniper fired again just as he ducked behind an old stone wall, now close enough that he could just see the person operating the sniper. He ducked again just before the weapon fired again, chest heaving as he tackled the next hunter that advanced towards him.

Once the hunter was taken care of, Tony took his chances and made a run for the back of the building the sniper was inside. There were two more hunters in his path, but he used them against each other. He grabbed the closest man to him and yanked him in front of his own body just as the other hunter fired. The bullet lodged into the hunter’s back, and the second shock from the second hunter was enough for Tony to fire his own shot.

The second hunter went down with a thud. Tony dropped the writhing body he’d used as a shield and kicked him in the head hard enough to knock him out.

Tony made his way through the store, the sniper upstairs completely silent as he made his way up. Trading the revolver for the rifle instead, Tony crept into the storage room, but was unnerved to see it was completely empty. There was evidence of the sniper that had been there moments ago, the weapon itself leant against the wall next to a chair.

The second he stepped past the threshold, he was grabbed from the right, a knife headed towards his head. Tony reacted just in time to avoid getting fatally stabbed, his muscles screaming with effort as he pushed against the heavy weight that was the hunter. As he struggled, he caught a good look at the man’s face, which was filled with fury and maybe even a little bit of fear as he pushed against Tony’s hands.

Tony threw up a knee and caught the man in the chest. The hunter, winded, stumbled back and gave Tony just enough room to finish it. He snatched the knife from the hunter’s hand and turned his own weapon against him, blood spraying as he neutralised the man.

Once it was done, Tony dropped the knife and stumbled towards the sniper. He picked it up and settled against the wall, aiming out into the street just as Sam, Sarah and Peter hurried out from their cover. Behind them, hunters stormed out into the street, bullets spraying as they fired at the trio.

Sam had an arm around each kid as he dragged them to better cover, sending worried glances up to the sniper nest Tony had taken over as he did so.

Heart in his throat, Tony aimed at the hunter closest to Peter and fired. The bullet missed its target, but the sound startled all the hunters, and gave Tony an opportunity to perfect the shot. The hunter went down and Tony aimed for the others, firing shot after shot as more and more poured into the street. The rumble of the Humvee’s engine was getting closer and closer, and it wasn’t long before the intimidating vehicle came around the corner at a menacing, slow pace. Tony had taken out all the hunters he could see, sniper now focussed on the Humvee as it started moving down the street.

The turret started to fire at anything and everything, which forced the trio to move. The second the Humvee caught sight of them, the turret spun in their direction and fired relentlessly.

Tony aimed at the Humvee, helpless. There was no way to snipe the driver through the windows.

Just as he thought there would truly be no way to save Peter’s life, the hatch on top of the turret flew open and a man appeared out of it. He had something in his hand, some kind of explosive, his arm reeling back to hurl it in the group’s direction.

Tony fired just before the man could release the explosive. The hunter bent awkwardly over the turret, the grenade falling back into the cabin of the Humvee. Seconds later, there was a muffled boom followed by smoke emitting from the turret, before the Humvee went out of control. It accelerated full-pelt towards a nearby store and crashed with a deafening crunch.

He held his breath, sniper focussed on the Humvee just in case anyone had somehow survived. When nothing happened, he took a breath of relief and turned the scope to Sam, Peter and Sarah, who had emerged from their cover looking incredibly relieved. They were talking amongst themselves, too far away for Tony to hear them, but Peter grinned and threw Tony a thumbs up.

They’d created a lot of noise. Enough noise that everyone in the nearby radius, hunter or infected, would have heard the commotion. Just as Tony was about to yell out to the group, the three of them spun around, Sam’s gun raised. When Tony looked at what had stated them, fear coarse through him at the sight of the infected barrelling towards them.

As if they hadn’t dealt with enough already.

There were five infected, enough to overpower the three humans. Tony fired at a clicker that was about to leap on Peter, the bullet piercing through the fungus as the body flew backwards into a nearby fence. Sam fired at a runner that was heading for him and Sarah, unable to hold off the other two runners that followed it.

Tony shot the fifth runner headed for Peter, selfishly, at the same time the runner’s leaped onto Sam and Sarah. Sam called out for his sister as she struggled beneath the runner, her screaming loud as Tony lined up the shot. The second he fired, he turned to the runner pinning Sam down and fired again.

“Move it!” Tony screamed as loud as he could, more infected barrelling down the street from the noise. “Now!”

Tony shot the closest infected as the trio made a run for the building he was in, thankfully holding them off until he was sure they’d made it safely inside. He ditched the sniper and hurried down the stairs, only to breath a sigh of relief when all three of them were inside, unscathed, infected pounding on the closed door.

Peter instantly darted over to him, arms outstretched like he wanted to give him a hug.

“You’re okay!”

“Yeah, buddy. Still here.” Tony replied. “You hurt?”

“No, no I’m fine. We all are.” Peter turned to Sam and Sarah. “Right?”

“We’re good.” Sam wrapped an arm around Sarah, gun still pointed at the door. “Sarah?”

Sarah looked spooked, like all the colour had been drained from her face. She was sweating profusely, her chest heaving so violently Tony started to think she was having a panic attack. Her eyes darted between the infected and Sam, filled with so much fear that Tony almost reached out to steady her.

Instead, she gulped and nodded. Her smile looked forced.

There was no time to ponder on the reaction when the infected became more aggressive on the other side. It wouldn’t be long before the door gave way.

“I think it’s time we get away from that shithole.” Tony said. “Radio tower?”

“Yep. This way.” Sam grabbed Sarah’s hand and pulled her along with him. “We can sneak out the back.”

As Tony squeezed his way through the wooden fence out the back of the store, there was only one thought going through his head when Peter waited for him, fingers twisting anxiously as he looked over Tony for injuries.

He’d gotten attached to the damn kid, and it looked like Peter had too.

Cargo.

-

The remaining walk to the radio tower was, thankfully, uneventful. It took a little longer than expected, thanks to various damage to buildings and the walk through the woods, but they finally made it. By the time they were inside the building next to the radio tower, the sun was starting to set.

As the sun slowly went down, Sam delved into his backpack and brought out four cans of food. While it cooked, Tony tried to relax alongside the others, the adrenaline from the day’s events finally starting to wear off.

Peter sat in front of him, drawing away in his journal, the coloured pencils making an appearance. The kid had originally been sitting beside him, but when he caught Tony trying to peek, he moved away in a huff and hid his journal away from him, muttering about Tony being nosy. He’d only quirked an eyebrow, intrigued when Peter let Sarah watch over his shoulder, the two whispering amongst themselves. There was a lot of red and yellow pencils being used.

Even though Sarah seemed happy to engage with Peter, she looked dead on her feet. Whether it be the exhaustion, or the aftermath of everything that had happened in just one day, the poor kid looked like she was on the brink of passing out. Not only that, but she still looked scared, her eyes darting to her brother every now and then like she wanted to say something.

When it was time to eat, Tony and Peter respectively inhaled their portions, while the siblings ate theirs at a more respectable pace. Sarah, after eating half of her meal, declared she was too tired to eat anything else and gave the rest to Peter before she disappeared into the other room.

Somehow, across the coarse of dinner, Sam and Peter had roped Tony into talking about Rhodey.

“Shut the hell up.” Sam cackled, almost spilling the beans off his plate as he laughed. “He almost blew up your lab? You had a lab, like full of science shit? Jesus, that sounds like something straight out of a movie.”

“Of course he had a lab, he was rich and famous.” Peter, despite his teasing tone, had eyes full of wonder. “That’s so fucking cool, I wish I could do science shit.”

“You were famous, man?” Sam narrowed his eyes like he was trying to remember who Tony was. “Bullshit.”

“Dead serious.” Tony smirked, feeling some of that old arrogance he always used to carry around with him making a reappearance. “It was Rhodey’s birthday, which he just used as a shitty excuse to get into my lab. First thing he did was almost blow up half the room with one of his experiments.”

“What was it?” Peter asked. “Was it something cool?”

“You know, I can’t remember. It was unrecognisable when he was finished with it.”

“Oh, man. What I would give to do anything like that.” Sam sighed wistfully as he took his last bite of food. “There’s no way you were a celebrity. You don’t strike me as the type at all.”

Tony shrugged, barely holding his wince back.

“The outbreak tends to change a person.”

There was an awkward pause after Tony’s admission before Peter got up and clapped his hands together to ease the tension.

“You know what? You two deserve a little privacy.” Peter made a point to snatch his journal from the floor, eyeing Tony suspiciously like he was going to read it when he wasn’t around. “I’m gonna go see what Sarah’s doing.”

“Yeah, alright.” Tony nodded to the journal. “You can ease up, kiddo, I’m not going to read your diary when you’re not around.”

“It’s not a diary. Ugh.” Peter rolled his eyes. “You’re so annoying.”

With that, Peter disappeared through the same door Sarah had.

The awkward silence persisted between the two men as they sat there staring at their empty cans. Sam seemed to be thinking hard, the frown on his face dark. After a few minutes, he looked at Tony with a sense of hopelessness, his shoulders slumped.

“I don’t think anyone from our group is gonna to show up.”

Tony nodded slightly in agreement. He’d made that conclusion the first time they met.

It was a miracle they’d managed to outrun the hunters. They’d only been here two days, but it felt more like a week. So much had happened in two days.

“The worst part of it all is explaining it to Sarah.” Sam huffed out an unamused laugh and fiddled with the can on the ground in front of him. “She’s old enough to understand, I know she is, but there’s so much that I can’t tell her. That I don’t want to tell her. We’ve already lost so many people, and now our group… her best friend was with us. How am I supposed to tell her?”

Tony had no idea how to reply. He just nodded along in the hopes he came across as understanding.

“It never gets easier, does it? You’ve lost people, I know you have.” Sam sent a fleeting glance to the closed door. Tony felt anger rise within him, but as quickly as it came, it fizzled out. All that was left was the bone deep grief he felt every day of his life. “We just have to… keep going, you know?”

“I do.” Tony’s fingers twitched slightly.

“At least they have each other now. Sarah really likes him, you know? He’s a lot like her best friend. With a little more time, I think they would become close.”

“Yeah, me too.” Tony also glanced at the closed door. “He sure seems to need a friend.”

“Yeah.” Sam hid his face in his hands for a few seconds, clearly overwhelmed. Tony looked away, unsure how to handle the rapid beating of his own heart. “We all do, don’t we?”

“I suppose.”

More friends meant more loss.

They fell into another patch of silence. In the lull between conversation, Peter slipped back into the room, a troubled expression on his face.

“Something wrong?” Tony asked, eyebrows raised in question.

“No, nothing.” Peter hugged his journal to his chest. That troubled expression didn’t fade. “Just… nevermind. I’m tired.”

Peter made his way over to where Tony was sitting and, like he had every time before, used his backpack as a pillow. He kept his journal hugged to his chest when he laid down, the frown never leaving his face, even when he closed his eyes. Tony glanced to Sam, but he wasn’t even looking at Peter.

Sam was staring at the closed door, his little sister hidden behind it.

There wasn’t much more conversation to be had. Tony searched around their space for a little while, surprised to find blankets on the very top of one of the shelves. It seemed like they weren’t the first ones to make camp here.

Tony handed one of the blankets to Sam, then draped the other one over Peter. The kid was still awake, his gaze shifting to Tony when the blanket covered his body.

“Thanks.” The kid whispered.

“No problem.”

Tony and Sam got themselves situated. Tony used his backpack as a pillow just like Peter and laid down on his side, his back to the wall so he had a full view of the room. Sam had the foresight to use some crushed glass from one of the shattered windows to put on all exits just in case someone happened to stumble across them. The second a foot crunched the glass, Tony would know.

It was uncomfortable, but better than what could have been. If he hadn’t have made it to that sniper, they would all be dead.

He pretended not to notice when Peter got up and moved his things closer to Tony.

As he drifted off, he thought of Morgan, Pepper and his baby boy, wondering what they would think of what he’d done that day. He wondered if Pepper was watching over him right now, shaking her head in horror at the man he’d become.

He thought of Natasha, left behind in the Capitol Building.

With Peter’s back to him, hidden in the darkness, Tony let his tears fall for the first time in a long, long time.

-

Morning came too quickly for Tony’s liking.

He had a dreamless sleep, maybe even one of the best sleeps he’d had in recent years.

When he awoke, Peter was still in the same place he was when Tony fell asleep, but facing him. He continued to hug the journal like it was a teddy bear, that same troubled expression on his face even though he was asleep. Whatever was bothering him, Tony tried to pretend like it wasn’t his problem, but he couldn’t help the worry.

His mood had changed after he spoke with Sarah. Had they had some kind of fight? Tony found its hard to believe that there was anything for them to fight about, considering they barely knew each other.

Sam was already cooking breakfast. They acknowledged each other with silent nods as Tony got up and stretched, then made his way over to the window to observe their surroundings.

It was calm. There was no infected or human in sight. Maybe, if they were lucky, they’d make it out of the city without having to go through any more traumatic encounters. If luck was on their side, they’d make their way to Rhodey’s without any problems.

Around ten minutes later, Peter woke up with a yawn.

“Damn, that smells good.” Peter stretched as his eyes landed on the food. Then, he looked around the room, only for his eyebrows to furrow. The kid turned to Sam, hands on his hips. “Where’s Sarah?”

“I let her sleep in for once.” Sam continued to stir, a fond smile on his face. “I’ve never seen her so tired, she really needed it.”

“Oh.” Peter slumped. “Okay.”

“Well, if you want her to join us, you can go wake her ass up.”

Peter scratched his nose for a moment, clearly still half asleep. He placed his journal on top of his backpack, then gave a pointed stare to Tony who raised his hands in surrender. Peter sniggered at that, then yawned again as he went to wake up Sarah.

While he waited for the kid to return with Sarah, Tony took another look out the window. Still no sign of any movement, aside from a few birds in a nearby tree. Peaceful wasn’t something Tony was used to, the feeling of being safe almost making him on edge. He was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Then, it dropped.

Any sense of peace was gone within seconds when Tony heard Peter’s panicked cry.

“Sarah?!”

Both Sam and Tony tensed with alarm, the food forgotten when they heard the gargles of an infected. Before either of them could react, the door Peter had just disappeared into flew open with enough force that it almost came off its hinges.

Peter, being pushed by Sarah, fell backwards onto the ground with a scream. Sarah threw herself on top of him, arms flailing desperately as she growled. It took a second for Tony’s mind to process what he was seeing.

Sickening, black protruding veins stood out against her skin, expanding from her neck to just under her eyes. Her eyes that held none of their warmth, none of the emotions that Tony had seen since they met. They were hungry, wild.

Her movements were erratic, just like a runner. She screamed, growled, cried. Tony could physically see the last piece of who Sarah was dying, broken words between the uncontrollable gargles becoming more and more illegible.

“Shit, she’s turning!” Tony yelled as he immediately fell to his knees and dove into his backpack for the revolver. The second he pulled it out, the sound of a gunshot echoed around him as the revolver was forced out of his hand by the force of a bullet. Tony gaped, his hand still out as he turned to Sam. His gun was pointed at Tony. “What the hell?!”

“That’s my fucking sister!” Sam yelled, his gun still on Tony.

“Sarah!” Peter cried again, and when Tony glanced at the kid, he could see the tears running down his face. “Sarah, it’s me! It’s P-Peter!”

“Fuck it.” Tony scrambled to retrieve his fallen gun.

Just as he wrapped his fingers around the handle, another gunshot made him flinch.

Peter let out a heartbreaking sound that was borderline a scream. Sarah’s body slumped onto his, and Tony had to watch as the kid pushed her off him and scrambled away. Unable to think clearly, Tony rushed over to the kid and pulled him close, an arm wrapped around his shoulder as Peter continued to stare at the twitching body of Sarah.

Sarah jolted a few times, unseeing eyes locked on the ceiling as life left her. After a few seconds, the movements ceased, a growing puddle of blood pooling around her torso as everyone in the room just stared.

“Peter, are you okay?”

Tony looked away from the gut wrenching sight and looked at Peter. The kid barely nodded, his mouth ajar, tears freely flowing down his cheeks as he looked at the corpse of his friend.

“S-Sarah…” Sam’s grief-stricken voice snapped Tony out of his daze. “Oh m-my- Sarah-”

Sam still had his gun in his trembling hands, his movements erratic as he stared at his sister.

Tony shifted so he was in front of Peter, aware of all the possible things that Sam could do with that gun. He slowly got to his feet, arms raised to show Sam he wasn’t a threat, entire body trembling.

“Sam, hey, listen. I’m going to take that gun away from you, alright?”

“S-Sam… what have you done?” Even as he spoke, he threw the gun in Tony’s direction. “What have you… what have you done?”

“Okay, okay, easy.” Tony made sure Peter was fully shielded by his body. “Easy.”

“This is your fault!” Sam weeped, face convulsing with so much pain that Tony felt it deep in his soul. He knew this kind of pain all to well. “All your… all your fault.”

“No, this isn’t anyone’s fault!”

“This is all your fault!”

Tony was sure that in the haze of grief Sam was feeling he was going to get shot. In the few seconds where it was just him staring into Sam’s hazy eyes, a million things went through his head.

Then, Sam turned the gun on himself and fired.

Sam’s body slumped to the ground with a heavy thud.

Tony couldn’t move.

He didn’t move until he heard Peter start to cry behind him, all his parental instincts kicking into gear as he turned around and gathered the kid in his arms. Peter latched onto him, but his wide-eyed gaze remained on Sam.

“Hey, hey.” Tony whispered and tried to catch Peter’s eye. “Don’t look, kiddo. Don’t look. You keep your eyes on me, okay?”

As he echoed the words he’d said to Morgan all those years ago, he felt a few tears of his own spill over. Peter choked on a sob, his gaze shifting between Sam and Sarah a few times before he turned away and hid his face in Tony’s shoulder. After a few seconds, Tony helped Peter stand on shaky legs and guided him into the room Sarah had been in and closed the door behind them.

“I’m just going to get our stuff, okay?” Tony made sure they made eye contact so he could get through the shock the kid was clearly in. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Peter managed a nod, but didn’t say much else.

Tony made the journey back into the room to grab their backpacks, he couldn’t help the way his chest heaved. He took a moment, unable to look at the sibling's broken bodies on the floor. A panic attack threatened to take him under, but he forced it away with practiced ease and made his way back to Peter. He pressed the kid’s journal into his shaking hands, which Peter immediately latched on to.

“We should…” Peter choked for a moment, struggling to keep his tears at bay. “We should bury them.”

Tony thought about denying, but found he didn’t have the guts to.

It was what the siblings deserved.

-

Later that morning Tony buried Sam and Sarah just by the radio tower.

After Peter placed the toy he’d stolen for Sarah back in the toy store on Sarah’s grave, Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into his side.

After a few seconds silence, Peter let out a strained sigh.

“Can we… can we go now?”

“Sure we can, Underoos.” Tony rubbed Peter’s shoulder one time before he let go. “Come on.”

With one last glance at Sam and Sarah, they left.

Chapter Text

“It’s not a diary. Ugh.” Peter rolled his eyes. “You’re so annoying.”

Peter turned away from a smirking Tony and Sam and made his way towards the door Sarah was hidden behind. He made sure to grab his backpack along the way, the Leia and Luke Skywalker action figures he’d picked up practically weighing it down. He couldn’t wait to give Leia to Sarah. Now seemed to be the perfect time.

He’d seen how sad she was to part with it when Sam told her no. If he was going to take one, she deserved to get one too.

If she was still awake, that is.

He stopped in front of the closed door and knocked a few times, but no reply came.

Peter hesitated for a moment before he turned the door handle and peeked into the room. A grin formed on his lips when he saw that Sarah was indeed awake, sat in front of an old table with a stack of canned food in front of her.

“Well.” Peter slipped inside and closed the door behind him. Sarah didn’t even look up at him. “It’s safe to say that those two have officially bonded.”

Unlike he was hoping for, Sarah barely reacted to his attempt to lighten the mood. She glanced at him, shrugged a little and added another can to her stack. Peter shrugged off the odd reaction and closed the distance between them, now standing on the opposite side of the table.

“What’re you doing? I thought you’d be asleep.”

“Taking stock of how much food we found today.” Sarah fully looked at him this time, a wobbly smile passing over her face before her grown returned. “We did pretty good, I think.”

“Hm, fun.” Peter picked up one of the cans and squinted at the label. “How are we doing on canned peaches?”

The reaction Peter received was nothing like he expected. He wracked his brain to try and figure out what he’d said wrong when Sarah snatched the can from his hand with a glare, adding it back to the pile as if Peter had messed it up. At the slightly hostile reaction, Peter took a step back and bit down on his tongue.

Sarah huffed, followed by a deep breath before she looked back at Peter.

“Did Sam send you?”

“What? No.” Peter raised his eyebrows. “Why would Sam send me?”

“I don’t know, to make sure I’m not fucking up somehow.” Sarah shrugged again, her movement slightly erratic, like she was trying to hold in what she was really feeling. Her frown deepened with anger, before it quickly morphed into pain. “Or to soften the blow before he tells me that our group is dead. That my best friend is dead. It’s obvious, isn’t it? None of them are going to show up.”

Peter almost took another step back at the force behind her words. Grief tugged at his heart at the words best friend, but he pushed it away before Ned’s face could plague his mind.

His best friend is dead, too.

But he couldn’t tell her that.

“Oh.” Peter paused, struggling to form the right words. In the short time he’d known Sarah, she’d never acted like this. She’d been fine a few hours ago, and it sounded like something else was bothering her as well as grief. “Well, I’d say we all did pretty well back there. Especially you.”

Again, this seemed to trigger something in Sarah. She shoved her chair back and got up, Peter just able to catch a glimpse of her trembling hands before she turned around and headed for the window. She had her back to him now, her shoulders tense like the whole world was resting on them.

Peter knew what that felt like.

Subconsciously, he rubbed his wrist, feeling the bumps of the bite mark under his sleeve.

Ned’s face flashed through his mind again, along with the bleeding teeth marks on his best friend’s palm.

“Are you okay?” He asked, prepared for her to snap at him again.

Instead, she didn’t. She just sounded defeated.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

“Um… alright.” Peter took a few steps back, headed for the door. It was clear his presence wasn’t wanted. “Have a good night then, I guess.”

Before he could wrap his fingers around the doorknob, Sarah stopped him in his tracks.

“Wait.” Peter waited. “How are you… how is it that you’re you never scared?”

Peter wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the question.

He was fucking terrified, all the time. All day and night he’d been terrified of the mere thought of losing another person. It terrified him even more than the hunters and the clickers. It terrified him more than being a fucking asthmatic in an apocalypse.

Hearing that Tony had almost been bitten by a stalker, knowing that he wasn’t immune…

It made Peter feel sick.

His parents, May, Ned, Natasha… he didn’t know what he’d do if he lost anyone else.

It was Peter’s turn to let out an unamused, uncertain laugh.

“Who says that I’m not?”

Sarah turned to face him, tears in her eyes.

“Okay, sure. What are you scared of, then?”

“Hm, spiders are pretty creepy.” Peter joked, another attempt to steer the conversation in a lighter direction. He knew it wasn’t working from the crease that appeared between Sarah’s eyebrows, but he continued. “I know, makes no sense for Spider-Man to be scared of spiders, but seriously, they're-”

“Stop it.” Sarah snapped, anger leaking back into her tone. Her fists were clenched tight at her sides, shoulders heaving with how heavily she was breathing. Peter desperately wanted to know what was bothering her, but he knew asking would just make it worse. “Stop trying to turn everything into a fucking joke.”

Peter gaped soundlessly for a moment before a little spark of anger flared in his chest. It was gone as quickly as it came, his shoulders slumped as he tried to figure out what was going on with his new friend.

“Okay, fine.” Peter looked away from Sarah and at his journal instead. Practically his entire life was in his old journal, and now it was gone. His drawings of May, his and Ned’s superhero planning, the only pictures he had with Ned… “I’m scared of… being by myself. Ending up alone, or forgotten. Yeah, um… what about you?”

His worst fear had almost come true after Ned. If he hadn’t found the Fireflies when he did, there was no telling if he’d still be alive now.

“Those things out there.” Sarah glanced back at the window. “The infected. What if the person is still inside? What if they’re trapped in there without any control of their body, just watching as they kill people? I’m… I’m scared of that happening to me. Shit.”

Don’t think about Ned. Don’t think about Ned.

Don’t.

“Listen, we’re a team now. We’re gonna help each other out from now on.” Peter tried to smile through his own pain. Sarah looked at him with sad eyes, now glassier than ever as she listened to him. It looked like the other teen was hanging off every word he said. “And- they may still look like people, but I don’t think the person is in there anymore.”

Don’t think about Ned.

“Sam says that they’ve moved on, that they’re with their families now. In heaven.” Sarah lowered her eyes to the floor. “Do you think that’s true?”

“I go back and forth.” Peter ran his fingers over the bite again. “I mean, I’d like to believe it.”

He’d like to believe Ned was in a better place now.

“But you don’t, do you?”

Peter frowned, then shrugged. “I don’t know.”

The pair fell into silence, Sarah’s sad gaze once again focussed on the darkness out the window. Peter once again struggled to come up with something to say, before he suddenly remembered the reason he’d come to see Sarah in the first place.

“Oh! With all this serious talk we’re having, I almost forgot!” Peter pulled off his backpack and placed it and his journal on the table. He grabbed the Luke and Leia action figures and placed the Leia one on the table in front of Sarah. “There! If he doesn’t know about it, he can’t take it away. Look, I have Luke!”

Sarah made her way over and picked up Leia, the smallest of grateful smiles appearing on her lips as she ran her shaky fingers over the action figure.

“Also.” Peter put down Luke and opened his journal. Beside his Spider-Man suit design, was the design he’d been drawing for Tony. “I had an idea. Tony was talking about having a lab back before the outbreak, which is so fucking cool by the way, and I thought maybe he could’ve invented something to power the suit. You know, like a centrepiece or something. Since he’s super smart, maybe he invented a new element that no one else had.”

“Yeah… that sounds cool.” Sarah hadn’t even looked at the journal. Her glassy eyes were focussed on the Leia action figure in her hands. “I’m sure he’d agree.”

Unable to school his expression, Peter’s shoulders slumped at the lacklustre reaction.

Ned would have immediately bounced back with more ideas. He would have snatched Peter’s journal and started writing in it himself, sketching all kinds of ideas for Peter to go off.

But, as it had been proved multiple times since they met, Sarah wasn’t Ned.

No one could be Ned.

“Well… I fucking hope so.” Peter shut his journal and pretended like Sarah’s reaction didn’t bother him. He put his Luke action figure back inside his backpack and zipped it up, then slung it back over his shoulders. “Anyways, I’m exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Sarah couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from Leia. “Night.”

As Peter left and closed the door behind him, he felt troubled.

There was something he was missing. He hardly knew Sarah, but she was acting off. He thought about telling Sam, but after the way Sarah had asked if her brother had sent him to check on her, he decided against it and got himself situated on the floor beside Tony instead.

That night, when Peter drifted off, his dreams were filled with his best friend’s smiling face.

-

It was too late when Peter realised what was going on with Sarah.

Sarah was infected.

Sarah was dead.

Sam was dead.

Yet, all he could see when he looked at Sarah’s body was Ned.

Ned’s blank face, staring up at the ceiling, black veins expanding over his cheeks and neck.

The bullet hole in his forehead leaking blood that puddled beneath his torso where he laid on the floor of the dirty, abandoned mall.

His parents. May. Ben. Ned. Natasha. Sarah and Sam.

They were all dead, but Peter wasn’t.

-

THREE WEEKS AGO

BOSTON QUARANTINE ZONE

Peter hated being the only asthmatic in the zone.

He struggled behind the rest of the group, chest heaving and throat closing in as the asthma attack threatened to incapacitate him. The other kids side-eyed them as they ran past, no doubt because Peter had been the reason everyone had been forced to run extra laps on multiple occasions.

It wasn’t his fault he’d been born an asthmatic. It wasn’t his fault the FEDRA dickheads refused to give him any leeway. He didn't even understand why they still kept him around.

Sometimes, it didn’t bother him so much, mostly when he had his inhaler on him. Today, however, was one of those days where he didn’t. He’d left it behind in his room, tucked away in his bedside drawer. Usually, Ned would be the one to remind him to bring it.

But Ned wasn’t here anymore.

Peter hastily shoved away the bitterness he felt at the thought of his friend. Music blasted in his ears from his old walkman, a desperate attempt to tune out everyone else around him. He could barely hear it over the sound of his own breathing, his lungs desperately trying to bring in air as he trudged around the old basketball court.

Peter shouldn’t have been surprised when someone grabbed his headphones and violently yanked them off his head, followed by the walkman attached to his hip.

“Hey, give it back!” Peter snapped, fists clenching at the sight of the older teen towering over him.

“Then pick up the pace, Penis.” Flash sneered, an arrogant smirk on his face. “I’m not running doubles again just because you can’t get your shit together. I know you can run faster than that. You and your shitty attitude always ruins shit for the rest of us, I wish they would just throw you out to the infected already. You’re just about as useful as one of them.”

A multitude of curse words ran through his mind as he glared daggers at Flash. However, the hurt at Flash’s words threatened to overtake his anger as the other kids laughed in agreement with the bully. Aware that the FEDRA instructor was most likely keeping a close eye on them, Peter took a deep breath and restrained himself from retaliating.

“Come on, dude, just give it back. I don’t wanna fight about it.” Peter reached for his walkman, only for Flash to snatch it away at the last second. The anger started to boil deep in his stomach, his cheeks heating up with the intensity of it. He’d already been having a shit day. “Just give it back, man.”

Flash outright cackled in his face. “Fight about it? You, Puny Penis Parker, a fighter?”

“Please.” When Flash didn’t move, Peter felt like he was about to blow a fuse. “For fuck’s sake, Flash!”

“You can fight just as much as your shitty little friend. But he’s not here anymore, is he? Shame. He was just about as useful as you.”

Peter’s heart twisted violently at the mention of Ned, which only fed into his anger.

“So get a move on, Penis. What’re you waiting for?” Flash had the audacity to poke him in the chest, the walkman still far out of Peter’s reach. “Is Puny Penis Parker going to punch me?”

Fuck the FEDRA instructor.

In the blink of an eye, Flash was flat on his back, blood bleeding profusely from his badly broken nose.

Peter didn’t hesitate to throw himself on the teen and land another fist.

-

“What’s going on, Peter?”

Peter stared at Captain Morita dead in the eye, trying to ignore the steady pulse of pain coming from his darkening left eye. Flash got him good, but Peter got him better. Flash had been right, he wasn’t a fighter, not usually. But ever since Ned left, something had been triggered inside him fuelled by the betrayal he felt. Especially after their final conversation before the teen vanished.

He’d lost another person he cared about, so what was the point?

When Peter didn’t reply, Morita sighed and leaned forward in his chair. Peter sat across from him, slumped in the chair he’d been in so many times. Most of the time, it had been for mouthing off to his FEDRA teachers and other kids, not really for physical fights.

The person who enraged him the most was Flash, and most of the times he’d ended up here it had been because of him. The whole time he’d been here Flash had been the consistent thorn in his side, pricking and prodding at him constantly. Not only him, but Ned too, and another few unfortunate kids who Flash decided to pick on.

“You’ve never been what I call well behaved, but the last few weeks?” Morita shook his head in disbelief, maybe even disappointment. Probably both. “Your behaviour has been… abysmal, Peter, to put it lightly.”

“Flash started it.”

“Well, Eugene is in the infirmary with fifteen stitches.”

Peter had to stop himself from laughing out loud. If Ned was hearing what Morita was saying right now, he would have given Peter the best high five of his life. Ned hated Flash just as much, or even more, than Peter did.

“Good!”

“Okay.” Mortia shook his head in disappointment once again. “Peter-”

“Whatever, I know you think the same as everyone else. Peter’s an asthmatic, he’s useless, he’s a burden on all of us, he shouldn’t even be here! Blah, blah, blah. Just put me in the fucking hole already, I don’t care. If I’m so much of a burden, why do you insist on keeping me here?”

The hole, more like a pit, was never pleasant.

In fact, Peter hated it because he was completely alone down there with only his thoughts to keep him company. When he was down there, all he could think about was the parents he didn’t remember. All he could see was the gruesome image of the last time he’d seen his aunt and uncle.

But, if he’d managed to give Flash fifteen stitches, maybe it would be worth it.

“I’ve put you in the hole three times, Peter. It doesn’t work.” Morita looked at a loss, and Peter was proud to have pissed of the Captain that much. The man completely disregarded the rest of Peter’s rant and continued in his usual disciplinary tone. “So, this time I’m going to try something different.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“I’m going to tell you the truth.” Peter raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. He didn’t give a shit about what the man had to say. “You’re smart, Peter. You’re so smart, you’re stupid. You can’t see where this is going? Let me help you out.”

“I don’t need he-”

“There’s two paths ahead of you.” Morita’s stern eyes bored into Peter’s. “First path. You keep acting like a grunt, you get the life of a grunt. Up at dawn, walk the streets, walk the wall. You eat shit food, you do shit jobs, you take shit orders from your patrol leader, who will probably be Eugene. That patrol leader will think you’re a burden, which means it will be even worse for you. You’ll get the shittiest of the shit jobs. No one wants a burden on their team.”

Peter broke eye contact and rolled his eyes, even though the man’s words made his stomach sink.

“That will be your life until you eventually catch a bullet from a Firefly.” Morita continued. “Or, maybe, you’ll get so drunk you’ll fall off a roof. Better yet, without proper access to medication, your asthma will kill you before anything else does.”

“Ha, yeah right.” Peter sneered, mostly to hide the fear that came from Morita’s words. As if he hadn’t been terrified of his asthma killing him since he was old enough to understand. “That’s all bullshit.”

“Here’s the other path, Peter. You’ll swallow this pride of yours and you’ll follow the rules. You’ll become an officer.” Morita’s chuckle was fond, like being an officer was the best thing in the world. Peter couldn’t think of anything worse. He saw how the people in the zone got treated. “You’ll have your own room with a nice, warm bed. We don’t go on patrol, we eat well, you’ll have plenty of access to the medicine you need. Best of all, when you’re an officer, you get to tell the Eugene’s of the world exactly where to shove it.”

Peter considered the man’s words for a moment, his eyes drifting around the Captain’s desk.

“Why do you even care?”

“I care, because no matter what everyone else says or thinks out there, we’re the only ones holding all of this together.” Mortia’s eyes seemed to sadden, and Peter could almost see the weight on his shoulders. Still, he didn’t feel any remorse for the officer. “If we go down, the people out there will starve or murder each other. Or, better yet, the infected will take over and everything we’ve built here would be for nothing.”

Peter couldn’t think of anything worthwhile to say.

“There’s a leader in you, Peter. One day, it could be your turn.” Morita paused. “Or not. So, which path would you prefer?”

Both options sounded less than ideal, but becoming a soldier, having his own room for the rest of his life, not having to deal with the Fireflies or Flash… it did have some kind of appeal. It would certainly be better than being bullied by the officers for the rest of his life while shovelling shit down in the sewers, or burning the bodies of infected people.

He’d seen, and heard, many rumours about what went on in the zone. It was bleak.

As an officer, he would have authority over people like Flash.

And there were many Flash’s in the QZ.

Hell, he wouldn’t have to constantly worry about his asthma killing him either.

“Fuck it, then.” Peter muttered. “I’ll take the second.”

“Good.” Morita seemed rather pleased at Peter’s reply, which only infuriated him more. As his eyebrows furrowed, his eye ached, but he pushed away the pain. “That’s all for today. You can go.”

“That’s it?” Peter immediately stood up, shocked that he hadn’t earned himself another night in the hole. He thought about asking for his Walkman back, but he’d had enough luck already, and he didn’t want to jeopardise that. Tomorrow he’d ask. “Awesome.”

On his way out, the elation left him immediately.

He didn’t want to become an officer.

It was completely against everything Spider-Man was. Yeah, Spider-Man wasn’t even real, but it was him and everything he wanted to be.

He didn’t want to become a bully like Flash.

As he headed back to the room he used to share with Ned, he sighed.

Being an officer was his only option if he wanted to live a somewhat decent life.

-

That night, after re-rereading the same Star Wars comic for the hundredth time before being yelled at by one of the guards to turn his light off, Peter drifted into a fitful sleep. Several faces floated around his dreams, mostly May and Ben’s.

However, after what felt like only ten minutes of sleep, he was woken by somebody hovering over him.

Peter was up within seconds, scrambling unceremoniously out of his bedsheets as he snatched his switchblade from its usual place on his beside table. He pushed the body away from him, purely in survival mode as he flipped the blade out and thrust it in the direction of the intruder. The person fell over with a loud thud and a pained grunt.

“Dude!” The person whisper-yelled, one hand thrown up to defend their face. Peter recognised their voice immediately. “It’s me! It’s Ned!”

“Ned!?” Peter said in disbelief, the switchblade still pointed in Ned’s direction. “What the hell are you- I thought you were a fucking infected or something! Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in… I don’t even know how long!”

Ned gingerly got to his feet, an uneasy smile on his face as he met Peter’s eyes.

“Forty-five days. Well, forty-six, technically.” Ned glanced at the blade, eyebrows raised. “You’re not going to kill me, are you, Spider-Man?”

Peter continued to gape as he sheathed the blade and tucked it in his pocket. He couldn’t take his eyes off his best friend, convinced he was seeing a ghost.

He’d been so sure that Ned was dead. The teen had left without a word after their fight. He didn’t even leave a note behind.

“Ned…” Peter trailed, his throat suddenly closing up as tears threatened to well in his eyes. “All this time, I thought you were dead. I really thought… fuck, dude!”

“Yeah…” Guilt passed over his best friends face as he moved to unclasp something from his neck. Peter recognised it immediately, a mix of emotions overtaking him as he took the pendant in two hands. A Firefly pendent, engraved with Ned’s full name on the back. “You wanna know what I’ve been up to?”

Peter, unable to look away from the necklace, felt something like betrayal deep in his gut.

“You’re a Firefly?”

“Yeah.” Ned walked past him and over to the wall that was covered with Peter’s posters. In the middle of it all was a picture of him and Ned, one he’d never taken down. Ned plucked it off the wall to look at it, a soft smile on his face. Peter’s stomach fluttered with something that wasn’t anger, but he shoved that down as well. “You kept it up.”

“Of course I did. Why would I take it down if I thought you were dead?” Peter muttered as he made his way towards his door. He opened it and stuck his head out into the hallway in search of any soldiers, suddenly aware that there was a Firefly in his room. If FEDRA caught wind of that, he and Ned would be dead. Morita would never give him another chance. “Dude…”

“There’s no soldiers on the entire floor.” Ned was looking at him again now, the picture held in Peter’s direction. “Here.”

Peter stared at Ned’s hand for a moment, then reached out to snatch the picture. He stuck it back in its usual place on the wall, the anger starting to return at full force when he turned back around to face his friend. Ned’s hand was still extended in his direction, fingers trembling slightly.

“Are we cool?”

Ned was so hesitant, his eyes practically begging Peter to do their secret handshake.

Peter stayed where he was and couldn’t help but let out an unamused laugh.

“Are we cool? Man, seriously, are we c-”

“Okay, I get it. I disappeared, and you’re mad.” Before Peter could get a word in, Ned continued. His hand was still between them. As irritated as Peter was, all he wanted to do was give his best friend a hug. “And I owe you an explanation. How about we get out of here and I can tell you everything?”

“It’s almost morning and I have those stupid military drills.” Dread filled him when he started to realise the situation they’d found themselves in. “You know, where we learn how to kill Fireflies?”

“Dude.” Ned picked up a pair of Peter’s pants from the floor, clearly deflecting. “Put some pants on and let’s go. I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

Peter took the pants from his friend, his decision already made.

As pulled on his pants, he stared at Ned as he peered into the hallway. Tears once again threatened to take over, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath.

Ned wasn’t dead. That was a good thing.

But, Ned being a Firefly?

Fuck.

He didn’t know what to think, or if he should think anything at all.

“You ready?”

Peter blinked out of his daze to find Ned’s hand in front of him again. Unable to hesitate any longer, he nodded, and gave Ned his hand. Unexpectedly, they didn’t do their usual, over-complicated handshake. Instead, Ned kept Peter’s hand in his as he pulled him towards the door, his grip so tight Peter thought he might’ve gained super strength in his time with the Fireflies.

That feeling flared up in Peter’s stomach again, and for a brief moment, it was like they’d never been apart.

-

A million questions ran through Peter’s mind as they wound through the apartment buildings near the boarding school, their conversation light as they ducked in and out of cover to avoid the FEDRA soldiers. It had been going well so far, to Peter’s surprise. He and Ned had snuck out this way many times before, but this time, Peter was at a loss for where they were headed.

Ned seemed different. He was much more subdued than usual, not a constant stream of chatter than Peter was used to.

He hated it. Knowing Ned had been with the Fireflies this entire time didn’t sit well with him, especially with his new behaviour.

Unable to stand the silence any longer, Peter hesitantly asked his most pressing question.

“So… how did you even find the Fireflies?”

Ned laughed a little, though it wasn’t his usual, uncontrollable laugh that would always set Peter off. Like the rest of his behaviour, it was subdued, and Peter almost wanted to shake the truth out of him. After forty-six days of radio silence, he wanted to know everything and it infuriated him that Ned was keeping it to himself.

They were supposed to be best friends. Peter wanted to know why Ned left him behind without a word. Didn’t the other teen understand that?

“Well, you know that Firefly that you bit and stole her gun?” Peter hummed in affirmation, almost wincing at the reminder. “That’s Minerva. I saw her walking down the street, so I tailed her. I followed her into this sketchy alley, you would’ve hated it, and all these Fireflies ambush me. They took me right to their hideout and straight to Carol.”

“Shit… were you scared?”

“Are you kidding? I was terrified. I thought this was the time she was going to shoot me, but instead, she just said ‘What took you so long?’” Ned laughed again, this time more nervous than anything else. “She was expecting me.”

“So what, she just made you a Firefly, right then and there?”

“Something like that. Apparently, the whole almost killing me thing was a test. I guess she just wanted to know if I was committed. Anyways, who do you hang out with these days?”

Peter laughed this time, though it was bitter.

“I don’t know. No one really.” He shrugged half-heartedly. “MJ’s still pretty cool, but she mostly keeps herself company. She seems to be the only one who doesn’t hate me in there.”

“Dude, what about Liz? She doesn’t hate you.” Ned looked over his shoulder with a smirk, his eyes twinkling. “I think it’s the opposite of hate when it comes to her? Is she still fawning over you? I bet she is.”

Peter was perfectly aware of Liz and how she felt. A few years ago, he’d tried to convince himself to feel the same.

But, as he got older it became apparent that pretending to like Liz was exhausting when he didn’t feel anything like that towards her.

“I don’t know, haven’t noticed.” Peter lied, mostly to change the subject. “Hey, look.”

Peter pointed to the black spray-painted Firefly logo on the wall in the room they had just entered. Above it, the usual slogan look for the light was hastily written. Peter huffed an unamused laugh, then turned to Ned, who looked at the logo with a certain expression he couldn’t read. Peter felt his shoulders slump. He felt so far away from his best friend even when he was standing right next to him.

It was the same Firefly logo that had always been there every time they took this route. He and Ned used to constantly make fun of it, but now, Ned didn’t seem too cheerful.

“Oh, har har.” Ned eventually said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Let’s keep moving, Spider-Man?”

Begrudgingly, Peter did as he was told.

“So you buy into this whole thing now? Look for the light, and all that?”

Ned shrugged as he ducked beneath a gap in the wall. It had been there as long as Ned and Peter had been sneaking out.

“All I know is that I’m not a soldier.”

“You think I am?” Peter asked as he dodged the jagged pieces of wood protruding from the gap. “But I still think it’s better than being a Firefly. Morita even grilled me about it today for beating up Flash.”

Before Ned could reply, the intercom that was used throughout the zone interrupted their conversation.

“Attention. We are pleased to report the zone has been free of cordyceps infection for thirty days. Your cooperation and dutiful attention to suspicious activity keeps this city safe.”

As they headed up another flight of stairs to reach the top floor, Ned let out an unamused sound at the information.

“Thirty days my ass. People are getting infected all the time, they just do a good job of hiding it.”

Something uncomfortable settled in Peter’s stomach at the words. Finally, they reached the top floor and made their way over to the window that was always open. No one ever came through here except them. Ned climbed over the windowsill and landed with a thud on the other side. Peter hesitated for a moment, processing his friend’s words before he climbed over as well.

“You’ve seen the infected?”

“Well, yeah. As part of my initiation, they actually made me kill this…” Ned cut himself off abruptly. Peter saw the way his shoulders tensed with discomfort. “You know, let’s talk about something else.”

Curiosity burned within Peter like a fire. Ned had seen an infected up close and the Fireflies made him kill it? So many questions circulated through Peter’s mind as the steady rain started to wet his skin. He knew none of his questions would be appreciated, so he kept his mouth shut as they came to the edge of the roof. Peter hadn’t been out here since before Ned left him.

Peter was broken out of his train of thought by the sound of rumbling engines. Ned quickly dragged Peter down to crouch behind the remaining brick on the building that overlooked the road as two FEDRA trucks passed by at low speed, headlights illuminating the street ahead. They were on patrol for stragglers and infected alike.

Stragglers like them sneaking out in the middle of the night breaking almost every rule they could.

“Sorry.” Ned said once the vehicles disappeared from sight. Peter frowned as he watched Ned straighten up. Even his posture was different, like he was on edge. He wasn’t sure he could blame him if he was spending all his time surrounded by the Fireflies. “I’m a bit… jumpy lately. Careful, it’s wet.”

Peter followed his friend over the plank they’d situated between two buildings months ago. Thankfully, he didn’t slip and made it to the other side safely.

Now Peter was pretty sure where they were headed. The deserted mall was close by, a place they frequented. It was one of Peter’s favourite places.

Ned barely looked at him as they travelled, the silence between them becoming more and more tense. There was something unspoken, like an unspoken dread that he couldn’t shake. Peter was starting to think that there was something else Ned was hiding from him.

The closer they got to the mall, the sadder Peter felt. Why would Ned bring him here now after everything?

It was their place, the only place that didn’t crawl with FEDRA soldiers. While there were rumours about infected existing deep within the building, the pair had never run into any of the freaks. They hadn’t even heard one before.

Peter had never seen an infected up close, just from afar. Sometimes, in the dead of night when he had trouble sleeping because of his nightmares, he could hear their screeches far in the distance. When he asked Ned in the mornings if he heard them too, the teen would shake his head and tell Peter he was paranoid.

Ned had seen an infected up close. He’d killed one. Peter was dying to ask.

Instead, he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“Maybe I should join the Fireflies.”

It was an impulsive thing to say and Peter wasn’t sure how his friend would take it.

“Peter, that was the first thing I asked Carol.” Peter’s heart swelled with affection at that. They came to a large gaping hole in the roof of the mall, which Ned dropped into without hesitation. Peter followed, still unnerved by the darkness like he was every time they came here. “But she said she wants you safe at that stupid school. I’m not even supposed to come see you, you know.”

“Why does she care?”

They were inside of the mall itself now. Ned descended down the elevator, though it wasn’t actually moving. It probably hadn’t moved for twenty years.

“She doesn’t want me to get you into trouble.”

Peter rolled his eyes at Ned’s back.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

The idea of a shopping mall always fascinated Peter. A massive building filled with all kinds of stores? It sounded like heaven to him. In all truths, anything in the old world before the outbreak seemed like heaven. Being able to fly from country to country in a massive plane that was basically a spaceship? Cool. Even just owning a car sounded awesome. Peter would kill to just go back for a day and experience what it was like before the world was overrun by the infected.

“Why did you bring me here?” Peter asked as they continued through the dark, dreary building. Peter couldn’t imagine the hundreds of people that used to fill this space, all looking in different stores and buying different things. Hundreds of people who weren’t worried about getting bitten, or being murdered. It must have been so carefree to not have to worry about those things, or even food. “Ned?”

“I have a surprise for you.”

Peter’s interest spiked. “A surprise?”

“Mhm.” Ned turned back for just a second to grin at him, his eyes shining like they used to for the first time since he came back. Peter’s cheeks flushed a little at the sight. “Can’t tell you though. Top secret guy in the chair business.”

“Oh, come on!” Peter sped up to catch up with his friend so they were walking side by side. Even though he was excited by the fact that Ned had a surprise for him, he couldn’t shake that feeling that something was wrong. Ned was definitely hiding something from him. “Not even a hint? Is it a Spider-Man suit? If its a Spider-Man suit I’ll be your friend again!”

“Maybe.” Ned laughed a little. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Man, we never got to decide what kind of Superhero you are going to b-” Peter’s stomach dropped as his shoe caught an uneven tile on the ground and caused him to trip. “Woah!”

He would have fallen face first if Ned didn’t grab his arm. Peter hastily straightened himself up, cheeks flushed red as he turned to thank his best friend. Ned’s hand grazed his for a moment, and for some reason, it felt like his skin was on fire. His heart jolted, but he pretended like nothing happened. Ned didn’t seem fazed at all.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, sure.”

The two walked in an awkward silence for a few minutes, side-by-side as they made their way through the mall. It was overrun by grass, plants and trees, most of the structure destroyed from years of weather damage just like every other building Peter had ever seen. He spent so much time daydreaming about the world before the outbreak.

“Ned, seriously, what’s the surprise?” Peter asked. “If it’s not a Spider-Man suit, what could it possibly be?”

“Shh.” Ned shushed him. They arrived at the bottom of another set of escalators where the hallway had caved in. Usually, they would have made their way under to the other section of the mall, but it seemed more of the building had decayed since their last visit. “Oh, shit. Help me?”

“Yeah.” Peter sighed. “I hate crawling through here.”

“I know, but let’s try.”

They both grabbed onto an old metal pole and tried to lift some of the debris. However, before either of them could even attempt to make their way through, the pole shifted and the debris started to fall. Ned pulled Peter back as a car that had been balanced dangerously on top of the concrete for months finally became dislodged.

“Let’s find another way…” Ned trailed, eyes surveying the area. He made his way over to one of the stores and pulled on the door handle. Locked, but above the window was smashed, the opening big enough for either of them to slip through. “Can you boost me? I’ll try unlock it from the inside.”

Peter nodded and braced himself. With ease, he hauled his friend into the room and waited on the other side. Ned made a sound of amazement followed by silence.

“So, what’s in there?” Peter called out but was met with silence. “Ned?”

Silence was a good thing. Silence meant no infected. Right?

He couldn’t lose his best friend again.

Just as Peter was about to call out again, the door unlocked and opened just an inch. Not wanting to waste time in case his friend was actually in trouble, Peter pushed the door open and was surprised by what he saw inside.

It was… freaky.

Before he could call for Ned, the life was startled out of him by a clown mask roaring in his face. Peter jumped, a brief wave of anger washing through him when he realised it was just Ned pranking him. Anger because Ned thought it was fine to joke like this after leaving Peter for the Fireflies. However, the anger was gone as quick as it came when he heard Ned’s cheerful, uncontrollable laugh. The laugh he had missed so much.

“Dude, seriously?” Peter rested a hand over his pounding heart. “That’s two times today!”

“How did we never find this place before?” Ned’s breathing was heavy under the mask as he rushed to explore the rest of the store. “So cool. I have the perfect mask for you!”

Now that Peter’s fear was gone, he could properly observe the store. It was full of a bunch of creepy stuff, probably a Halloween shop. If Peter was in the old world he would have loved Halloween. Maybe making a Spider-Man suit would actually be possible.

“Put it on, put it on!” Ned shoved a mask in his hand. Peter let out a surprised laugh at the horrifying thing in his hands, his skin prickling at the sight of it. It was a Spider mask, complete with eight legs dangling off the side. It was furry, too. “Peter, c’mon!”

“Okay, okay!” Peter, despite the unease at the texture of the mask, shoved it on his head. “This is so fucking stupid.”

“What do you mean?” Ned cackled. “You’re really Spider-Man now!”

“Hey, you know I’m not supposed to look like this!” Peter laughed, even though the dust from inside the mask started to irritate his lungs. “Spider-Man is supposed to be cool, not, not… creepy! I feel sick, this mask is disgusting.”

“Spider-Man is scared of spiders! How will he save the city now?”

“I won’t be saving the city from fucking spiders, Ned!” Peter pretended to shoot webs out of his wrists. “I’ll be saving it from the infected and the criminals with my super strong webs.”

“I know, silly.” Ned’s tone was suddenly fond. He took off his mask and replaced it with a zombie one instead. “You’ll be saving me from all the zombies.”

“Fuck yeah.” Peter grinned, thankful that Ned couldn’t see his once again red cheeks. “What else do they have in here?”

He had mostly said it so he could take the mask off. His throat was starting to itch.

“I can’t believe people used to buy this shit.” Peter muttered, mostly out of wonder. He looked at a few of the costumes that still hung on their hooks, the price tags long gone. So were the costumes, really. Most of the packaging and the costume itself had deteriorated. On the shelf next to it was some fake eyeballs in a jar. “So cool. Can you imagine actually being able to do Halloween properly?”

“Yeah.” Ned was by another shelf filled with masks. He now wore a vampire mask. “So cool.”

The two lingered around the store for a few minutes more, playfully picking things up off the shelf and showing them to each other. Peter even managed to scare Ned one time, having hidden behind one of the shelves and waited long and quiet enough for the other teen to get worried.

Finally, just like Peter thought, their momentary fun would come to an end. They left through the second entrance on the opposite side of the store, which led them through another part of the mall. Peter kicked stones and other debris as he followed behind Ned, curious as to what this surprise could be. There was nothing Peter really wanted in the world except his best friend.

They made their way through the mall, past the old carousel and down a stairwell that looked like it belonged to maintenance. Peter had never been down here and he was confused as to when Ned had. Before he could ask, his friend started talking.

“So, you know how we thought they only powered certain parts of the city?”

Ned broke into a jog down the dirty corridor.

“Yeah?”

Ned briefly glanced at him and grinned.

“Follow me.”

Peter jogged a little slower behind him, his breaths becoming harder to come by. He would have to use his inhaler soon. However, the curiosity overtook his rational thinking as he followed Ned through the dark hallway, the only light source being their flashlights. It alarmed Peter in the moment that he hadn’t even considered that there could be an infected lurking down here.

Even if they’d never seen one before, there were the rumours.

And if what Ned said was true about people getting infected every day…

He didn’t want to think about that.

Soon they arrived at what seemed to be the source of the mall’s power. Ned walked over to the the power supply cabinet and began to hit the padlock with the butt of his flashlight. Peter watched with great interest, curious as to what was about to happen.

For the first time since Ned had unexpectedly shown up, Peter felt content.

“So, turns out, the entire city has power. They just flip the circuit breakers.” Ned hit the padlock a third time, hard enough for the lock to break and clatter to the floor. Inside was a single lever. “All you have to do is flip it back. Care to do the honours?”

Ned stepped aside and gestured to the lever.

“There’s no way this is gonna work.”

Peter didn’t hesitate to push the lever up, not really convinced that anything worthwhile was going to happen. However, to his surprise, the lights above them switched on and the room was doused in bright white light. The sudden brightness made Peter squint, but he quickly got over it when a thought ticked in his brain.

“Wait, so the whole mall is lit up?”

Ned’s grin was fond, but almost sad.

“Let’s go find out.”

The pair jogged in the direction of the exit, excitement building in Peter when he saw warm light barely visible through the dirty windows. Ned hadn’t been lying, or tricking him. The mall was really lit up. He couldn’t wait to see how it looked, if it was anything like what he had imagined.

But before Ned could open the door, a sudden wave of sadness hit Peter. His hand reached out for Ned’s to stop him, eyebrows furrowing as he thought through what he was going to say.

“What’s wrong?” Ned asked, a frown replacing his smile. “I thought you would like this.”

“I…” Peter trailed. “I know what you’re trying to do and… I’m really glad you’re not dead.”

Ned looked away at the comment, shoulders slumped.

“What I’m trying to say is I’m glad we’re back together again, and-”

“I didn’t mean it.” Ned cut him off before he could finish. “All that stuff I said before I left. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Peter’s heart started to pound in his ears. Tears threatened to burn in his eyes, but he forced them away and took a deep breath. Ned seemed to notice, his features softening in that way they did when he knew he’d hurt Peter’s feelings. It hadn’t happened often, but they argued every once in a while. The last time they saw each other before Ned left they had their biggest fight they’ve ever had.

“Ned…” Peter sighed. “You’re such a sap.”

Thankfully, Ned’s eyes brightened and most of the sadness left his expression.

“Hey, dude, you started it!” Ned laughed and lightly shoved him but he shoulder. “Come on, are you ready?”

Peter nodded, and without another word between them, Ned pushed open the doors.

The warm light was a complete opposite from the harsh white that was in the maintenance corridors. Peter’s eyes widened as he looked around at the sight before him. While the mall still looked old, run down and destroyed, there were still parts of it that were beautiful. The carousel in the middle of the mall was completely lit up and functional, its lights illuminating the whole area. Peter couldn’t begin to imagine what this would have looked like before the outbreak.

Not everything was lit up, however. There were many stores that were still just as dark and dreary as before, but Peter hardly cared. Seeing the carousel lit up like that made up for it.

“Woah… are you fucking kidding?” Peter trailed. “This is beautiful.”

“I know right.” Ned smiled softly and headed for the carousel. “The carousel looks cool. Wanna try it?”

“Wait…” Alarm filled Peter’s senses. “Won’t the soldiers see the mall all lit up?”

“Nah, the exterior lights don’t work. Nothing to worry about, Spider-Man.”

“But how do you know?”

Peter felt anxious. The thought of getting caught was terrifying, especially after his conversation with Captain Morita. If he found out Peter was down here with Ned he would be done for. Any promises of a nicer life as an officer would go down the drain.

“This Firefly, Jason, told me about it.”

Yet, when Ned gave him that soft look, all those worries fell away. Right now he wanted to get on that carousel.

Peter did just that. The second Ned pushed the button and the ride began to move, Peter felt elation he had never felt before. The ride was slow, but it was the only ride Peter would ever get to go on. He didn’t even think any rides would still exist, let alone work. He’d heard of theme parks and the awesome rollercoasters people used to ride. That, among flying in planes, was some of the coolest things to Peter.

Well, that and the fact a human being had gone to space.

“Ned, get on, next to me!” Peter called once he completed the first lap. “Quick!”

“Coming!” Ned exclaimed as he stumbled onto the moving carousel. Sadly, the second Ned was situated on the horse beside Peter, the ride started to slow to a stop. “Aw, come on man, I just got on! What the fuck?”

“Fuck.” Peter sighed. “Well, if it means anything, I loved it.”

“Good.” Ned reached for his back pocket and grabbed something. “I got something else here.”

Peter tried to look at the small book Ned was holding but the other teen held it just out of view, his fingers obscuring the title.

“What did the triangle say to the circle?” Peter immediately lit up. No way. “You’re so pointless.”

“You have another pun book?” He exclaimed, almost bouncing with excitement. “Ned!”

“What did the cannibal say when he showed up to the party late?”

He hummed, excited to hear the answer.

“A cold shoulder.”

Peter laughed at the sheer absurdity of the pun. His cheeks hurt from how much he was smiling, his glee intensifying when Ned gave him the book to keep. For a few minutes they stayed sat on the carousel telling each other puns back and forth. Peter’s lungs ached from the laughter, but he made no move to grab his inhaler. He wanted to bask in this moment for as long as he could.

He hadn’t felt this happy in ages.

After a few more puns, Peter closed the book and they slowly got off the carousel. Directly opposite the ride, barely hidden by one of the supports that helped keep the building standing, Peter spotted a photo booth. Unlike everything else around it, it was lit up, the sign flashing at them as if it was an invitation.

“The photo booth’s on!” Peter exclaimed. “Come on Ned, we have to try it.”

Once they were situated inside of the booth, Peter’s heart started to race from being squished in so close with his friend. He shoved the feeling down and concentrated on the photo booth itself. Somehow, the machine was still functional enough to take a few photos. Most of them were silly poses, Peter’s cheeks burning red when Ned threw an arm around him and pulled him close enough that their faces were touching.

By the time they were done, both of them were panting from the laughter. Their photos were displayed on the screen, both their faces happy. Peter wished it could be like this all the time.

However, when they tried to print them, the machine failed.

“Shit.” Ned mumbled as he punched the machine with his fist. Peter pressed the retry button over and over to no avail, his inhaler in his other hand. The exhaustion of his day finally caught up with him. “Stupid machine.”

Ned punched it again, but this time, the entire booth went dark.

After a brief moment of awkward silence, Ned sighed.

“Oops.”

“Damn.” Peter let out a sigh of his own. For a second they just stared at each other, long enough for Peter’s heart to jolt. The air between them had suddenly become painfully awkward. “So…?”

“You wanna keep exploring?”

“Hell yeah.”

Their next stop was an old arcade on the upper level. None of the arcade machines worked, but Ned did his best to make up a story for Peter to follow. With his eyes closed, he imagined everything his best friend was saying, and it was almost like he was actually playing the game. He used both hands to move the joystick and press the buttons on the machine, the images Ned put in his head so vivid. They used to do this a lot back in the QZ before Ned left.

Most of his stories consisted of Spider-Man. Sometimes he would save people from fires, from criminals, from the infected.

Anything felt possible when he had Ned by his side.

He wasn’t sure how long it was before Ned finished his story. Peter opened his eyes, full of adrenaline as he turned to face his friend.

“That was awesome.”

“Yeah, wait until you see-”

As Ned started to go on a tangent about the next thing he wanted to show Peter, the excitement started to drain away from him all at once. Peter felt his shoulders slump as he watched Ned head towards the exit and back into the mall, hands flying everywhere as he explained their next adventure. Peter could barely hear him.

They had been out for hours. It wouldn’t be long before he had to wake up for the FEDRA training drills, and if he was caught sneaking out again…

Morita would lose it.

That, and there was still something Ned wasn’t telling him.

“Wait, Ned.” Ned immediately stopped where he was and turned to face Peter, a furrow appearing between his brows at his sudden change in tone. Peter hadn’t wanted to ruin their moment. “You know, we should head back. I need to head back.”

“You have plenty of time.” Ned shook his head and tried to get him to leave the arcade. “Come on-”

“Ned… I don’t have anymore strikes left at this place. Tomorrow we’ll just pick up where we left off, okay?”

The second the words were out of Peter’s mouth, he knew. The look Ned gave him said it all, but he wanted to believe he wouldn’t. He wanted to believe that his friend wouldn’t ditch him again for the fucking Fireflies. That he would stay.

“I can’t.”

All of Ned’s enthusiasm was gone.

Peter felt his heart start to break.

“Okay, then we’ll just do it another time.” Ned only shook his head. “Okay, Firefly-boy, when?”

“They’ve asked me to leave.”

No.

“Leave what?”

“Boston. I’m supposed to join another group in another city.” Peter’s heart started to roar in his ears. Both hurt and anger swirled in his stomach as he stared at Ned, who fiddled with his fingers as he held eye contact with Peter. “I argued with them to stay here, but you know how Carol is. Nothing’s easy with her. Everything’s a test. They’re… they’re picking me up tomorrow.”

Peter just stared. He barely processed the words.

Why would Ned leave him?

“Okay.”

Ned stared at him for a few seconds like he was expecting something more.

“That’s it?”

Peter threw his arms up in exasperation, unsure what else Ned wanted from him. Was he supposed to be happy? Was he supposed to accept right now that the last person he cared about was going to leave him again?

“Well, what do you want me to say? That I’m happy you’re leaving again?”

“I don’t know, how about some friendly advice?” Peter couldn’t hold back his scoff. “I’m serious, dude.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

Ned hesitated for a moment, his eyes starting to brim with tears. Peter’s heart continued to break.

“I wanted to see you.”

“No. Why did you bring me here?”

Ned looked away.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.” Peter crossed his arms and avoided eye contact with Ned. It felt like he was being stabbed repeatedly in the heart. Ned had gotten his hopes up only to crush them within hours. “You want my advice? Go. Come on, let’s just say our goodbyes. Maybe you shouldn’t have come back to see me.”

A tear slipped down Ned’s cheek.

“Okay.” Ned nodded. “I’m going to go check out this music.”

Peter could barely even hear the music because it was so distant. The anger surged within him a second time when Ned just walked away without looking back. Ned left, just like he did last time, and left Peter floundering. Tears of his own started to burn in his eyes as he called out for his friend.

“Ned? Ned!”

Nothing.

Peter took a moment to compose himself and leant against one of the arcade machines. He took a few deep breaths and tried to hold back his tears. He wanted to punch the machine, kick it, smash the glass with a metal pole, but he did none of it. Instead, he steeled himself and headed after his friend.

Peter made his way out of the arcade and headed in the direction he hoped Ned went. He used the faint music as directions, which led him through a small hallway to another section of the mall he had never been to. It looked like a storage area, but Peter ignored everything in there and headed straight for the sound of music.

Soon he found Ned with his back to him staring at some kind of display. If they weren’t arguing right now, Peter would have been amazed at the display. They seemed to be in some kind of science store, or maybe it was a science exhibit. The only display that had light was the one Ned was looking at.

Ned, obviously having heard him, was the first to break the tense silence.

“You ever seen something like this?”

The nonchalance in his tone made Peter’s hurt immediately be replaced with anger.

“What, we’re just done talking?”

“I don’t know, are we?”

The rage Peter felt at Ned’s tone was unbearable and that same very anger started to pour out of him. Forty six days of pent up frustration suddenly rushed out of him as he stared at Ned in complete and utter disbelief.

“You don’t get to be pissed off at me. I’m pissed off at you!”

“For what? Asking you what you think?”

“When have you ever cared about what I think? We were good. We were better than good, and then you told me to fuck off. Then you just up and vanish and leave me behind without even leaving a note. What happened to Spider-Man and his guy in the chair? We’re supposed to be a team, Ned.”

Ned just stared at him.

“This whole night…” Peter sighed and rubbed his face for a moment. “Do you feel guilty? Do you want an out? Well, I’m giving it to you right now.”

“I’m supposed to be holed up on the other side of town. I get caught as a Firefly I’m dead. Guilt didn’t make me cross a city full of soldiers, Peter. Yeah, I did and said some shit that I don’t know how to take back but I’m trying.”

“Why couldn’t you have just said something?” Peter asked desperately, hands trembling. “You knew how I would feel and you just… you just left me there! I thought you fucking died, that an infected got to you just like they got to my aunt and uncle!”

“I know.” Ned locked eyes with Peter. “I know, Peter. I’m sorry, but I just-”

“What?” Peter breathed out. A tear slipped down his cheek. “You what?”

Ned’s shoulders began to slump even further, if that was even possible.

“I don’t know.”

Peter just stared, his breathing getting heavier and heavier with grief and frustration. Without another word, he stormed past Ned and sat down with his back against the science exhibit. The stress of the conversation tore him apart as he ripped his backpack off and grabbed his notebook and pencil from inside. He opened to the next free page and started to sketch.

The silence dragged on forever. He knew he should go back, but at the same time, he didn’t want to leave Ned.

Ned had sat down beside him some time ago, but the two didn’t speak. Though, gradually, the tension started to evaporate.

“I had an idea for my web shooters.” Peter muttered and offered his notebook to Ned. “I could infuse them into the suit. Maybe that way the bad guys won’t be able to rip them off or break them. What do you think?”

“Hm.” Ned hummed. “I think it’s a good idea. How would the cartridges fit though?”

“Huh.” Peter stared at his sketch for a moment. “I’ll find a way. Maybe a new design? I could make them smaller.”

They fell into a few more minutes of silence before Peter let out a small sigh.

“Ned…” He trailed. “I know I said it like a dick before, but you should go with them. This is something you’ve wanted for like, forever, right? Who’s going to stop you?”

“The only one who can.”

He looked at Ned then. Peter was suddenly aware of how close they were, their sides completely flushed against each other. Ned looked at him in the eye, filled with sadness, and for a brief moment Peter’s eyes flickered to his friend’s lips. Before either of them could react, Peter turned away and focussed on his sketch of Spider-Man.

“I have to go back.” Peter whispered. “Morita will have my head if he finds out I sneaked out again.”

“Okay.” Ned’s voice was smaller than he’d ever heard it. “Can I at least walk you home?”

“Obviously.” Peter nudged Ned’s shoulder with his. “Let’s go.”

Slowly they got up and Peter put away his notebook. Just before he started to walk, Ned grabbed his hand to stop him.

“Wait.” Peter raised his eyebrows inquisitively. “I have one more surprise. Can you spare a few more minutes?”

Peter nodded. Ned didn’t let go of his hand as he pulled him behind the science display to a row of shelves. Once they reached what looked like a sound system, Ned released his fingers and grabbed a VHS tape from his backpack. Peter didn’t question him as he watched Ned plug it in to the speaker and press play.

Peter’s favourite song began to blast around the mall.

“No way.” Peter beamed at Ned, who reached for his hand again. “You found it?!”

“Course I did, man. It’s your favourite. Found it lying around in the Firefly camp.” Ned led him over to another display case and hopped on top. “Come on, dance with me!”

“Dude…” Peter huffed, but climbed on top anyways. “This is so stupid.”

Ned grabbed both his hands this time and forced him to dance. After the initial embarrassment passed, Peter started to have fun as he jumped around and danced with his best friend. For a few minutes, the world around them didn’t exist as the music drowned it out. For a moment, Peter was a normal teenager who wasn’t in a world riddled with infection.

It didn’t take long for the sadness to return. Peter’s movements slowed, as did Ned’s when he realised something was wrong.

“Peter?” Ned squeezed his hands. “What’s wrong?”

Tears suddenly burned in his eyes.

“Please don’t leave me.” Peter almost saw the heartbreak on Ned’s face. Even though the music continued to blast around them, it seemed quiet now. Peter squeezed Ned’s hands back. “Don’t go.”

“Peter…” Ned sighed. His eyes were glassy. “Okay.”

Peter’s mouth dropped open.

“Okay…?”

“Okay.” Ned smiled slightly. He raised his hand and grabbed the Firefly pendant that hung around his neck. After a moments hesitation, he ripped it off and tossed it aside. Peter’s heart felt like it was about to explode. “I won’t go.”

Peter, overcome with emotion, threw his arms around Ned in a suffocating hug. Ned laughed and hugged back just as fiercely. After a few moments, Peter pulled back, and finally let his impulsiveness take over. He surged forward and pressed his lips to Ned’s. It was too quick for his friend to kiss back, but from the look on his face, he didn’t seem to hate it.

“Sorry.” Peter said anyways, his face flushed.

“For what?”

He beamed.

The music continued to roar around them, but Peter didn’t care.

Ned wasn’t going anywhere.

“How will we do this?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.” Ned squeezed his hand again. “I don’t think Carol will go for it, but-”

Before Ned could finish, Peter heard a guttural scream echo through the mall, loud enough to be heard over the music. Terror shot through him the second he processed the sound, a sound he’d never heard so close. Any time he’d heard it, it was late at night while he was safe in his bed.

Not even a second later a person careened around the entrance of the store. However, it wasn’t a person at all.

It was an infected.

Peter stared at the thing with wide eyes, horrified at the sight before him.

He couldn’t move.

The rumours were true. The music must have attracted it.

The man’s face was covered in black veins, blood all over their body that twitched unnaturally. Peter felt sick at the gargled moans the infected made, blood dripping from its mouth as it stared right at them. Beside him, Ned pulled out his gun and aimed it at the infected man and fired.

The shot hit the infected in the shoulder, but that didn’t seem to faze it. It only made it more bloodthirsty, and within seconds the thing was running in their direction.

“Run!” Ned screamed. “Peter, run!”

Peter almost fell from the display case, his ankle aching as he took off in a sprint behind Ned. The hurried, inhuman footsteps thundered behind them as they tore through the storage room they came from. The infected was quick, so quick that he felt like if he looked back, the infected would grab him and kill him.

They were going to die, Peter was sure of it.

As they ran through the mall, more and more infected started to make themselves known from the amount of noise they were making. Tears poured down his cheeks as he followed Ned through the mall which suddenly seemed like a terrifying maze. They ran back through the maintenance corridor and out the other side, only to be blocked off by an infected woman crawling up the stairwell.

“The scaffolding!” Ned yelled and headed left instead. “We can get out through there!”

There were infected everywhere. How had they been hidden for so long?

Ned jumped over the gap between the walkway and the scaffolding, Peter close behind. It was starting to get light out, but Morita finding out about him sneaking out was the least of his problems as he ran for his life. Ned started to climb another set of scaffolding that led to freedom from the hell they’d found themselves in.

Most of the infected had gotten trapped in other parts of the mall, but there was at least three still chasing them. He hadn’t seen them, but he could tell by the amount of footsteps thundering behind them.

Peter climbed behind Ned as quickly as he could, his limbs shaking dangerously. He made it to the second level of the scaffolding before one of his feet slipped on the metal. Unable to keep ahold of the scaffolding, Peter’s grip weakened and his fingers released. His stomach turned as he fell back down to the floor of the mall, the wind knocked out of him as stars danced around his vision. His asthma started to act up, his chest wheezing as he tried desperately to make his body move.

The infected were going to kill him.

Not even a second after he had the thought, one of the things threw itself on him. Peter barely held it back, sobbing the entire time as he grappled with the monster. It was far bigger than him and far stronger. Peter would never be able to overpower it. He hoped at least Ned would make it out alive.

“Ned!” Peter cried desperately as the infected snapped its teeth at him. “Get off me!”

A deafening gunshot pierced Peter’s ears, along with the thud of footsteps landing behind him.

Pain exploded in Peter’s right forearm, but he barely registered the pain when another gunshot threatened to deafen him. The body on top of him fell limp, blood splattering all over his face as the infected slumped. Peter shoved it off him and looked to Ned, who was taking in heaving breaths and staring down at him.

Within the blink of an eye another infected launched itself at Ned and tackled him to the ground.

Peter, without hesitation, pulled out his butterfly knife from his pocket and threw himself at the infected. It struggled violently against his hold, teeth snapping as much as the one that had tackled him. He stabbed it in the back three times before he delivered the last blow to its neck. The thing gargled and struggled, but Peter’s grip was firm enough to render it dead.

The body slumped to the ground with a thud. Peter heaved in violent breaths, relieved when there were no more sounds of infected anywhere near them.

They’d made it.

“Peter…” Ned’s trembling voice made its way to his ears. “Your arm.”

As if Ned’s words triggered the pain, Peter glanced down at his forearm. There were teeth marks in his skin, bleeding profusely. He dropped his knife in shock, his heart roaring in his ears.

Horror threatened to suffocate him. No. It couldn’t be…

He’d been bitten.

“No, no, no, no.”

Peter tried to wipe it away desperately, tears pouring profusely down his cheeks as dread pooled deep in his stomach. No matter how many times he tried to get rid of it, the teeth marks that broke his skin remained.

He couldn’t breathe.

When he looked to Ned, hopeless, his friend held up his hand.

Blood leaked from the obvious bite mark on his hand. Teeth indents that were exactly the same as Peter’s.

He stared, mouth slightly agape, barely able to process what he was seeing.

This had to be some kind of cruel nightmare.

Blinding rage and grief suddenly flooded Peter’s senses. He grabbed the closest thing he could find, which was a piece of the scaffolding that had fallen from the main structure when he fell. His knuckles whitened from how hard he gripped the pole, tears blurring his vision as he smashed the first thing he could find. That happened to be one of the windows.

The light from outside blinded him, however that didn’t stop him from smashing the next window. Peter screamed, loud enough for it to echo around the otherwise quiet place that had just been swarming with infected.

They were infected. Both of them.

Peter sobbed on his third swing, so violently that his knees almost buckled. All of the energy drained out of him at once, the pole dropping from his hands as he collapsed to the ground beside Ned. Ned, who looked rather emotionless as he stared straight ahead at nothing. It didn’t look like Peter’s loud and violent meltdown even affected him.

“There’s some more windows for you to smash.”

Peter hiccupped as he wiped his bloody face. Whether it was his own blood or the infected’s, he had no idea now. He didn’t care.

The fear was immobilising. Peter felt weighed down by it, like someone had put bricks on both his shoulders. His forearm pulsed with pain, beating in time with his racing heart. Blood steadily leaked from the would, dripping on the floor between his legs. He could barely look at it.

He was really infected. There was no going back now.

Peter was going to turn into one of those things. He was going to lose every piece of himself to the infection within days, or maybe even hours. He was going to forget who he was, who Ned was, who his family were… his life was over.

Peter didn’t want his life to be over. He didn’t want to die.

“What are we gonna do?” Peter choked out. “We’re infected, Ned. What- what are we gonna do?”

Neither of them could go back to the boarding school or the Fireflies now.

Ned finally looked at him. The gun was still in his trembling, uninjured hand.

“The way I see it, we have two options.” Peter ran his fingers over his forearm, still trying to believe that he had actually been bitten. He felt the ridge of uneven flesh beneath his fingertips, followed by the sharp pain the contact caused. Another desperate whimper tried to force it way from his chest, but he shoved it down and kept his mouth shut. There was no use using his inhaler if he was going to end up dead anyways. “Option one. We take the easy way out. It would be quick, painless.”

Another wave of terror made his stomach churn.

Peter didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to kill himself. 

But, he didn’t want to become one of them, either. It felt like a fate worse than death.

Ned put the gun down on the floor in front of his feet and reached for Peter’s hand instead.

“Two, we fight.”

Peter almost scoffed in disbelief.

“Fight for what?” Peter eyed the dead infected spread around them. The smell was foul, but Peter could barely process it through everything else. Fuck… they would end up smelling the same when they were turned by the infection. “We’re… we’re gonna turn into one of those things. I…”

“There’s a million ways we could have died before today.” Ned squeezed Peter’s hand with his infected one. He could feel how much his best friend was shaking, though his tone was almost calm. “Dude, there’s a million ways we could die tomorrow. We have to fight. We have to fight for every second we get to spend with each other. You’re Spider-Man, Peter.”

“Like Spider-Man would ever get in this situation.” Peter huffed a small, unamused laugh. “My sixth sense would have saved me from getting bitten. I would dodge super fast and web up the infected before it could even touch me or you.”

“Maybe.” Ned gave him a small, pained smile. It was probably fake. “Listen to me. Whether it’s two minutes or two days… we can’t give that up. I… I don’t want to give that up. Especially now, after… after I left you.”

When Peter looked at Ned, he spotted a tear roll down his cheek. Guilt was written all over his face.

“My vote is we wait it out.” Ned’s chest heaved a deep breath. “You know, lose our minds together and all that.”

Peter couldn’t think of anything worse, but what option did they truly have? Both ways, they ended up dead.

“Okay.” Peter squeezed Ned’s hand one more time before he rested his head on his friend’s shoulder. His chest felt like it was about to explode. “We… we wait it out.”

“Yeah.” Ned whispered. He leant his head against Peter’s. “We wait.”

-

Two hours passed.

Peter felt the same.

Ned’s veins started to turn black. His arm had started to jolt every now and then, violent and unpredictable. Peter felt Ned’s fingers clenching and unclenching around his, his friend’s stare locked straight ahead and almost unseeing. They didn’t speak. They barely breathed.

They waited.

-

Three hours.

Peter felt normal.

The veins started to expand higher up Ned’s arm, black and pulsating. The twitches became more frequent and more violent. They extended to Ned’s shoulder and head, the boys jaw clenching and unclenching rapidly and almost painfully.

Peter looked at his own bite mark. It looked the same as it had when the infected bit him.

He looked at Ned. The infection would reach his neck soon.

Ned was dying in front of him and he could do nothing but watch.

-

“P-Peter.”

Three hours and a half was when Ned broke the silence.

“Yeah?”

“I…” Ned groaned and twitched so violently Peter was startled. The grip on his hand started to become painful. “I… I f-feel it. Ugh. I- I can’t think any-”

Ned convulsed. Peter’s heart continued to break as he looked desperately at his wrist.

Nothing. No black veins, no twitches. Nothing.

“It’s okay.” Peter tried to keep his tears in for Ned’s sake, even if they boy wasn’t really coherent anymore. “I know. We’ll be okay.”

“‘M sorry.” Ned coughed wetly and convulsed a second time. “S-so sorry.”

“I know.” Peter whispered. He hoped Ned could still feel his hand. “It’s okay. I forgive you. You are my guy in the chair, how could I be mad at you?”

Ned’s lips quirked into something that could be a smile for a split second before he convulsed again. This time he gargled, violent and wet, tears streaming from his eyes.

The infection would reach Ned’s brain soon.

Maybe it was already starting to.

“I love you.” Peter whispered, almost desperately. “Please don’t leave me again.”

Ned groaned again but didn’t reply. Maybe he couldn’t.

Peter started to sob.

When Ned didn’t react, he cried himself into an unintentional slumber.

-

Peter was woken violently by a body slamming violently into his.

He screamed in panic, body flailing desperately as the infected held him down. The infected gargled and snapped its teeth at him just like earlier, desperately trying to reach any of Peter’s flesh. When he caught a glimpse of the infected’s face, he saw his best friend, overrun by the cordyceps.

Peter couldn’t breathe as he tried to get Ned off of him. Ned’s eyes were wild and blood shot, black veins all over his face as he lunged for Peter’s neck.

“Ned, it’s me!” Peter sobbed as he tried desperately to hold his friend back. Ned was strong, almost two strong. Peter’s body was too tired to fight. “Please, it’s me, it’s Peter!”

Ned just snarled, though for a moment, Peter thought he saw life appear in his friend’s eyes for just a moment, but it was gone in the blink of an eye. Ned then moaned, mouth moving inhumanly as he lunged at Peter for the umpteenth time.

“Ned!” Peter screamed. “P-please.”

He didn’t want to die.

Peter used his last remaining strength to push as hard as he could against Ned’s chest then used his foot to kick him back. It worked, his friend’s body sprawling on the ground as Peter hurried to get to his feet. He grabbed the gun that had been left discarded on the floor, sobbing so violently that he felt like he would pass out any second as he raised it in front of him.

“Ned, it’s me.” Peter tried one last time as Ned scrambled to his feet, blood and other fluids dripping from his mouth as he did so. Ned’s eyes were locked on Peter yet they held none of his usual warmth. All Peter could see was the infection. “Please, it’s Peter.”

His finger hovered on the trigger. He didn’t want to do this, he never wanted to hurt anyone he loved.

Ned would hate to know that he hurt Peter. His best friend never wanted this.

He had no other choice.

“Please…”

Ned only snarled and hurled himself ferociously at Peter.

Peter closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot deafened him, but not as much as the sound of Ned’s body hitting the floor did. Peter choked on air, lungs barely functioning as he collapsed to the ground seconds after his friend. He dry heaved, but nothing came up.

Peter crawled to Ned’s lifeless body with the last of his strength.

He’d just killed his best friend.

“I’m sorry.” Peter cried, unable to tear his eyes away from the bullet hole in Ned’s forehead. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry Ned, I-”

Peter curled up on the dirty mall floor beside Ned and wailed.

His bite still looked normal. He still felt normal. No veins, no twitches.

Nothing.

Why me?

-

Two days passed.

Peter still hadn’t turned.

-

Three days.

Nothing.

No black veins, no uncontrollable twitches.

Nothing.

The word immune had started to pass through his mind frequently. There was no one in the world who was immune to cordyceps. Everyone who got bit turned and died and that was it. There was nothing to a person’s life after they got bitten and it had been that way since he was born.

But here Peter was, alive and well while Ned laid dead on the dirty mall floor.

Immune.

There was no way, right?

-

On the fourth day, Peter sought out Carol and the Fireflies.

Chapter Text

FALL

“Jackson County.” Peter announced through wheezing breaths. “That means we’re close to Jackson City, right?”

Worry filled Tony as he trudged up the last of the hill they had been traversing, his own lungs starting to suffer from the exertion. Peter was already at the top with his back to him, but Tony could see that he kept bringing his hand to his chest in pain.

Peter’s asthma had steadily become more frequent the more they travelled and his medicine was running low. They’d been lucky to find some more in a stash that hadn’t been abandoned too long ago, but it had only been half full. Whoever used to own it left in a hurry.

Where they were going to find medication was a constant thing Tony thought about lately, enough that it started to invade his dreams. He just hoped that there was some at Rhodey’s, because if there wasn’t, he had no idea what they were going to do. Peter would die without it.

Due to being low on medicine, Peter tended to ignore his symptoms until he absolutely couldn’t anymore. Tony hated it.

“Shouldn’t be more than a few miles.” Tony took a deep breath as he stared at the old billboard Peter had spotted. Jackson County was written on front of it in large printed letters, somehow still mostly intact. They were incredibly close to Rhodey’s now. “Kid, use your inhaler.”

“I will.” Peter replied but made no move to take off his backpack. “Are you ready to see Rhodey?”

“Kid.” Tony sighed and ignored his question. “Inhaler.”

“I said I will, Mr. Stark.” Peter did take his backpack off this time. Tony could see the worry on the boy’s face. “Are you nervous to see him?”

“I don’t know what I feel, bud.”

Nicknames for Peter came out a lot easier these days.

Almost two months had passed since they lost Sam and Sarah. In those two months, Tony had started to let the care he felt for Peter grow and fester deep in his heart even though he knew he shouldn’t let it. The more he cared, the harder it would be to let the kid go once they reached Rhodey’s. Tony didn’t know what would happen to himself after Peter was gone from his life.

In the first few days after they witnessed Sam and Sarah’s deaths, Peter was a shell. He stuck close to Tony wherever they went and often had a glassy, distant look in his eyes whenever they encountered an infected. The kid had nightmares every night without fail, and so did Tony.

Sometimes, in the dead of night, Peter would wake up screaming and sobbing so uncontrollably that it sent him into an asthma attack. It broke Tony’s heart. He constantly ignored the voice in his head telling him not to get too attached every time he bundled Peter up in his arms and comforted him until he was calm enough to drift back to sleep. Peter always latched onto him and held him so tight as if he were terrified Tony was going to disappear.

Tony thought about Morgan in those moments, broken and bleeding on the ground, her doe eyes wide and unseeing. She had clung to him the same way while they were running from the infected during outbreak day, her cries still loud and vivid in his mind. Tony even thought about Sarah, her skin covered in dark black veins, twitching on the ground as life left her body.

The gunshots from both of those memories echoed around Tony’s skull enough to pull Peter closer and hold him tight.

They never spoke about those bad nights.

They never spoke about Sam and Sarah or the nightmares.

Tony continued ahead once he was confident Peter was okay to move on. It was a dreary, rainy day, the mud squelching beneath their shoes as they followed the dirt road towards an old bridge. There was a car smashed into the trees just off the road, the door wide open and dented, a skeleton spread on the ground beside it. In its hand was a gun equipped with a scope that could be useful for them. Tony didn’t hesitate to take it.

“Guess what, Tony.” Peter sped up to walk beside him while Tony tucked the gun away in his back pocket. “I had another idea for your superhero.”

“Yeah?” Tony replied. When Peter only smirked mischievously at him, he sighed. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“Nope!” Peter skipped as he said it, his eyes shining. That look always made Tony’s heart swell the same way it had when Morgan looked at him like that. This time, he didn’t shove it down and indulged the kid’s secrecy. He was genuinely beginning to become curious about what kind of creation Peter was sketching. “It’s top-secret, remember. You’ll get to know when it’s perfect, which is soon, by the way. I’m almost done!”

“Whatever you say, kiddo.” Tony reached over and ruffled Peter’s hair.

Something uncomfortable settled in his gut as he looked at Peter’s happy face and carefree body language. It had always been the plan to leave Peter with Rhodey who would then get him to where he needed to be. Tony knew that. Yet, every time he thought about it actually happening, his heart would start to pound and the guilt would start to flood his thoughts. Tony knew Peter had become attached to him, more so after Sam and Sarah’s traumatic demise. The kid had even started to speak like they were going to stay together even after the Fireflies did what they needed with him.

Tony’s jaw clenched. A part of him wanted to leave Peter and return to his old ways even though Natasha was no longer around.

The other part of him wanted to hide the boy away from the Fireflies so they could never get their hands on him, cure be damned.

It was selfish, but Tony had always been a selfish person even before the outbreak.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked as they came to a stop. The road in front of them had collapsed into rubble by the river. They’d have to find another way through. “Damn. So much for this road.”

“We’ll just follow the river. It’ll take us straight to Rhodey’s.” Tony looked around for a moment. He spotted a ledge with a decent drop, a decent enough height that it would spook Peter. He still didn’t know why Peter got so nervous. He had a feeling it had something to do with the mystery that was Ned. “Over here kiddo.”

Tony led Peter towards the ledge and jumped down with a heavy thud. His knees and thighs screamed with pain, but he ignored it and turned around to help the kid. Peter was already sat down and ready to shuffle off the edge, that usual nervous look in his eyes. After Sam and Sarah, that look seemed to have become more haunted.

It was routine now, helping Peter like this. He couldn’t find it in him to refuse when Peter looked so scared, as if he were reliving some horrible memory. He more than likely was.

The kid’s eyebrows were furrowed slightly, the one Tony had stitched up now scarring. He caught the kid with a slight huff of effort, then repeated the process all the way down to the bottom.

“What happened between you and Rhodey?” Peter asked as they made their way along the edge of the river. The kid picked up a stone every now and then and threw it into the water, a thoughtful expression on his face as he spoke. “You two aren’t together, so clearly something must have happened between you guys right?”

“We just had a disagreement, that’s all.”

Tony would rather not think about the last time he saw his friend.

“What was it about?”

“He saw the world one way, I saw it the other.”

“So that’s why he joined the Fireflies?”

“Yep. Your friend Carol promised him hope, which kept him busy for a while. But he eventually quit that too.”

“How was it the last time you saw him?”

“I don’t want to ever see your goddamn face again.” Tony mocked in Rhodey’s angry voice. He remembered that moment so vividly, the heartbreak he’d felt when Rhodey turned his back on him. It was enough to break him all over again for months. “That was the last thing old platypus said to me. It wasn’t pretty, kid. The outbreak… changed us.”

“Oh…” Peter mumbled. “Will he still help us?”

“I don’t know.” Tony replied. “We’ll find out.”

“Well, with or without his help, we’ll get there!”

Tony closed his eyes for a moment, thankful he was walking ahead of Peter so he couldn’t see the turmoil on his face. The kid had no idea that Tony planned to leave him with Rhodey and that they were going to go their separate ways.

“Let’s just keep going.”

For the next few minutes they walked in silence. The terrain was difficult to navigate, the walk proving exhausting as they climbed over rocks and fallen trees. Peter was visibly tiring as Tony helped him over a particularly large slop. The kid was too short to climb over by himself.

Their days had mostly been like this. Walk for hours, stop for a break, walk for a few more hours until they found a safe place to spend the night. It was exhausting but it was their only chance of reaching Rhodey’s. Thankfully being so far from the cities meant that coming across any infected was rare. Not rare enough that they’d never see one, but rare enough that when they did, it would only be one or two. Even then, most of the infected they countered had already been killed by other survivors.

Eventually they arrived at an old power plant, the building dirty and decayed like everything else in the world. Tony made his way up the steps, a plan already forming in his mind as he picked the lock on the door and kicked it open. It looked like an old storage room for the staff that would have worked on the plant.

There was nothing useful inside.

“What is this place?” Peter asked when Tony remerged from the building.

“A hydroelectric power plant.”

Tony made his way over to the water gates instead. He found a red wheel that controlled the metal gates in the water and immediately started to turn it. It was difficult to turn, but with enough effort he would be able to turn it the whole way.

“A hydro who?”

“It uses the river’s movement and turns it into electricity.” Tony grunted. “Fuck, this is heavy.”

“Spider-Man would use his super strength to move that without even breaking a sweat.” Peter said as he watched the grate move. To Tony’s disappointment, only the first gate spun to create a walkway. There was another wheel identical on the other side. “Then I would swing across with my webs and turn the second one for you to get across. Man, I’m so fucking useless like this.”

“Stop it, kiddo.” Tony took a break to catch his breath. “You’re not useless.”

“Okay.” It didn’t sound like Peter believed him. Tony frowned, but didn’t say anything. “How are we gonna get to the other side? The ledge is too high for you to climb.”

Tony looked at the water and spotted an old pallet blocked beneath other debris submerged in the water. If he was lucky, maybe the thing wouldn’t have rotted enough for Peter to get on it and reach the other side to turn the wheel.

“I’m gonna get you a way across.”

Tony jumped in the cold water and swam down to the pallet. With some strain, he managed to dislodge the crate from the debris and pull it out. It floated to the surface, just big enough for Peter to balance on it. He brought it over to the kid who watched on warily, his knuckles white around his backpack straps.

“What if I fall in?” Peter asked. “My notebook…”

“Leave your backpack behind. I’ll bring it over.”

Peter did as he was told and hesitantly stepped onto the pallet. As quickly as Tony could without causing the kid to lose his balance or sink, he swam Peter over to the other side and to the ledge.

Slowly, Peter climbed off and sighed with relief once he was in the clear.

“Okay, Spider-Man, turn that wheel.” Tony said as he swam back to the other side.

“Okay.” Peter huffed and puffed with effort. “Spider-Man’s got this.”

It took a few tries but Peter managed to turn the grate the whole way. Tony carefully made his way across, Peter’s backpack in his left hand as he did so.

“Be careful!” Peter called out. “That’s a big drop…”

“I will. Don’t worry.”

The water roared around him, however all the noise fell away once he reached the other side. Peter stood there with his hand raised for a high five, eyes doe-like and hopeful, a mirror image Morgan’s. Tony felt pain stab his heart at the thought of his daughter, but shoved it down and decided to indulge the kid.

Tony gave the kid a high five. Peter beamed so big that an uncontrollable smile curved Tony’s lips.

“Yes!” Peter bounced on his heels. “Teamwork!”

There was still a big portion of the power plant to get through. The ground was uneven and broken, making their ability to navigate their way through rather difficult. Eventually they made it to an opening, though as Tony survey the area, he saw that there was no way out. One side was blocked by a high fence that was impossible to climb. On the other side was a large gate that headed into the rest of the plant.

Tony considered his options for a moment before he made his way over to the gate.

“What are we gonna do?” Peter asked as he followed Tony’s lead. “Are we gonna go in?”

“If I can get this damn gate open.”

Tony used both hands to pull on the gate but it didn’t budge. It must’ve been chained together on the other side.

“Tony!”

Peter’s panicked voice made Tony immediately become defensive. At the same time, he heard the sound of multiple guns cocking, and didn’t hesitate to pull Peter behind him and pull out the gun he’d found by the car.

Tony looked up, only for dread to fill him when he saw that they were outnumbered.

There were three people with their guns raised stood on top of the concrete wall on either side of the gate. Tony backed up a little, trying to cover Peter from all angles. He could barely see the stranger’s faces.

“Drop your weapon now!” The woman on the left side of the gate yelled. “Drop it!”

Tony saw that there was no way out of this if he shot at her. The second he did, the others would shoot him and the kid and they would both end up dead. He raised his hands and removed his finger from the trigger, looking between both parties as he assessed his options. All he could hope was that these people weren’t as savage as the hunters in Pittsburgh.

“Please tell me you’re lost.” The woman growled, gun still raised and pointed at Tony’s head.

“We didn’t know this place was occupied.” Tony replied. Peter remained silent behind him, though Tony could feel his hands gripping the back of his jacket. “We’re just trying to make our way through, alright? We’re not here to cause any trouble.”

“Through to where?”

Before Tony could answer, the chains on the other side of the gate started to rattle. He took another step back, arms still raised, gun pointed toward the sky. He hadn’t even noticed one of the men on the other side of the gate had disappeared from his post.

“They’re alright.”

Tony’s heart almost stopped.

He hadn’t heard that voice in years.

The woman didn’t relent. “You know them?”

The gates slid open, the sound loud and grating against his ears. However, that didn’t matter when he saw who was stood on the other side.

“I know him.”

“Rhodey.” Tony breathed out, suddenly breathless. “Holy shit.”

“Tones.”

Rhodey wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him tight. Tony didn’t react for a moment, eyes wide with shock, before he relaxed and wrapped his arms around his brother. Tears threatened to pool in his eyes as he held it back, years worth of memories flooding back to him as he hugged his best friend. He almost wanted to pinch himself to make sure Rhodey was real.

“How’ve you been, platypus?”

“Goddamn.” Rhodey huffed a laugh and pulled back. He had the beginnings of a beard now. “Let me get a look at you.”

The woman who had interrogated them slowly made her way out of the gate, still wary of him and Peter. Peter was stood beside Tony now, though when he looked at the kid, there was something akin to hurt in his eyes. Tony’s eyebrows furrowed at the look on the teen’s face, but before he could ask what was wrong, Rhodey was talking again.

“You got fuckin’ old.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Careful, it’s gonna happen to you too.” Tony turned to the woman next, who seemed to be easing up the more he and Rhodey interacted with each other. “Ma’am. Thanks for not blowing my head off.”

“That would’ve been embarrassing, considering you’re my brother-in-law.”

Tony’s brain short circuited for a moment. He looked at Rhodey, who suddenly looked like a deer caught in headlights. Then he looked at the woman, who wasn’t even looking at him but at Rhodey instead. Her eyes were filled with love when she looked at him, her face now relaxed in comparison to how hostile she had been minutes earlier.

Pepper used to look at him like that.

Tony’s jaw clenched painfully at the thought of his late wife. All the memories of her death crashed into him like a tsunami as he processed the scene in front of him.

Rhodey was married.

Married.

“This is Maya.” Rhodey gestured to the woman when Tony didn’t say anything. “You’d better be nice to her, she kind of runs things around here.”

Tony still couldn’t find the words. Instead, he just nodded.

Rhodey frowned a little, his eyes flickering to where Peter was stood. The kid was uncharacteristically quiet, still stood slightly behind Tony. He wanted to turn around at reassure Peter that they were safe, yet all he could do was think about Pepper as he looked between Rhodey and Maya.

He missed her so much.

“What’s your name?” Rhodey eventually asked Peter. Then he looked back to Tony, his eyes betraying how he truly felt. He was looking at Tony the way he used to when they met. Like he was broken. He’d looked at him the same way the last time they saw each other. “What brings you two through here?”

“Uh, I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”

“Nice to meet you, Peter.” Maya’s smile was warm when she looked at Peter. “Hungry?”

“Yeah, starving.”

“Tony?” Rhodey stepped closer and reached out to grab his arm. Tony flinched just slightly, but let his old friend clutch his arm. “You doing alright?”

“Fine.” Tony deflected. “What’re you doing all the way out here? I thought we’d find you in Jackson.”

“Come inside first.”

Maya pulled the gate further open to let them through. Tony went in first behind Rhodey, Peter following close behind with Maya bringing up the rear. Inside there were around five more people posted on the concrete walls on watch. They were all armed with rifles.

“We’ve been trying to bring the plant back to life. We had it working before but one of the turbines went south.”

“We have electricity, Tony.” Rhodey sounded so… happy. Far happier than he had ever sounded after outbreak day. “Well, had electricity. We’ll get it running again.”

Rhodey and his crew must have been out here for a few days. He could see the makeshift setup they had made for themselves in the old buildings that were apart of the power plant, along with three horses tied to the fence ahead of them. Peter let out a sound of excitement when he spotted the horses and took off from Tony’s side to get closer to them.

“Horses!” Peter exclaimed. He seemed more at ease now that they were inside the plant. “Awesome. I’ve always wanted to ride a horse. Have you ridden a horse, Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah.” Tony replied. He saw Rhodey’s gaze snap to Peter when he heard the professional title. “A while ago.”

“If you want we can take him riding later.” Maya cut in with a soft smile. “I can teach you how to ride.”

“Yes please, that’d be awesome!” Peter beamed. Tony didn’t have the heart to tell him that there was no time for learning how to ride a horse. “Can I pet him?”

“Go ahead.”

While Peter was distracted Tony took a second to calm his racing heart. As he watched Peter pet the horse Tony wondered how he had gotten himself wedged so deep in this job. Peter was supposed to be cargo, not… not someone he grew to care about.

He was going to get Peter killed if he stayed with him, he was sure of it. Everyone he cared about ended up dead when they were around him.

That’s what happened to Natasha. She stuck with him for so many years, tended his wounds, cared for him when Rhodey left. Then she got bitten and she died. Rhodey was probably lucky to get away from him when he could because Tony would’ve ended up causing his death too.

He couldn’t do that to Peter.

No, Peter couldn’t get infected, but that wouldn’t stop him from being torn apart by a mass of infected or murdered by just ordinary people.

It made Tony feel sick to think about. He brought those kinds of people in.

He would not let Peter die because of him.

“Tones.” Rhodey broke him out of his train of thought. “We’re going inside, come on.”

Tony nodded and followed without a word. Together the group made their way into the main building of the power plant, Peter back by his side as they made their way through. Maya’s radio crackled to life as they stepped over the threshold of the doorway, the words echoing around the otherwise quiet space.

“Maya?”

“Yeah, here. What’s the update?”

“We’re in the control room. We’re about to start it back up, do you wanna come check it out?”

Maya sighed and her shoulders slumped. Now that Tony looked properly at her, the woman looked exhausted. Her face was ghostly pale and there were dark rings beneath her eyes. At any moment it looked like she would collapse. Her condition made Tony feel on edge, but if she was infected, Rhodey wouldn’t have kept her around.

“Ah, I’d rather eat with Peter.” Maya sighed. “James?”

“It’s my turn anyway.” Rhodey made his way over to his wife and lovingly caressed her cheek. Tony had to look away. It felt like he’d been shot. “I’ll go.”

This would be a good opportunity to talk to get Rhodey alone.

“I’ll go with you.”

The second Tony spoke Peter’s head snapped to look at him.

“What?” Peter interrupted. The kid stepped closer to him, eyes wide with fear as he looked between him, Rhodey and Maya. “Tony…?”

“Go with Maya and get some food in you, okay?” Tony went to step away but Peter grabbed his sleeve to pull him back. He could feel Rhodey’s eyes burning into the side of his head but he ignored it and focussed on the kid. “Bud, go with Maya. You can trust her.”

“But…” Peter trailed. “You’ll come back?”

“I’ll come back.” Tony squeezed Peter’s shoulder. The teen lent into it, his brown eyes so wide and trusting. For just a moment, Morgan was staring up at him. “Now go.”

“Come on, Peter. Let’s give the boys some space.” Maya chimed in. “I bet they have a lot of catching up to do.”

Peter reluctantly released his sleeve and nodded. With another worried look, he followed Maya into one of the other rooms while Tony followed Rhodey.

That same guilt hit him like a truck as he watched Peter disappear behind the door with Maya. Peter didn’t want to be separated. A part of Tony didn’t want to be separated either, yet he was faced with the same ultimatum.

He was going to leave Peter with Rhodey. He had to. Rhodey would be able to safely deliver him to the Fireflies, Tony had no doubt about it.

Peter would hate him for it.

Tony shouldn’t care about what Peter thought because this was in the kid’s best interest, yet here he was fighting an internal war with himself. Getting Peter to the Fireflies was a necessity Tony had to fill for Natasha. He wasn’t supposed to care about the cargo, but after Sam and Sarah… even before them, he’d started to care for the kid.

“This will be the sixth time they’ve tried to get those turbines moving.”

Rhodey’s voice forced Tony out of his mind. The man had led him into what looked like a sleeping area filled with a row bunk beds and some packs. The bunk beds had probably been here for the last twenty years, though the the metal frames still seemed to be sturdy. It looked like Rhodey’s crew were using it as a temporary sleeping area while they were here.

“We’ve only been here for a week but it feels like forever.” Rhodey walked over to one of the bunks and unzipped the packs on the bottom bunk. Tony hung back, arms crossed, unsure what he was feeling in the presence of his best friend again. “Last year I went back to Texas. Back to our homes. Most of our stuff was long gone, but not everything. Here. It’s a little faded but it’s still good.”

Tony’s breath caught in his throat when he looked what Rhodey gave him.

It was a photo of himself, Pepper and Morgan.

He stared at it for a long time, eyes burning with the urge to cry but the tears never fell. It felt like his heart was going to explode from his chest as his hand started to tremble, the picture shaking in his hand.

They looked so happy. Tony hadn’t seen their faces in twenty years.

Tony had become content in forgetting some of the features of his family because he knew he would never see them again. The only time he saw them was in his nightmares, and even then, they didn’t look like they did when they were alive. Now that he saw them for the first time since he watched them die…

Seeing Pepper and Morgan’s faces again did nothing but reopen the wound that had barely been closed.

It felt like he was back in outbreak day staring at his wife’s dead body in their upturned car. It felt like he was watching the life leave his baby girl, her desperate cries for her life echoing around his skull as he stared at her bright face. He could feel the blood that stained Tony’s skin and clothes as he begged and pleaded for his daughter to stay with him.

Morgan’s beautiful brown eyes, identical to Peter’s.

Seeing their faces made Tony’s memories sharpen. It was like the wind had been knocked from him as he stared, and stared, and stared. He couldn’t look away from his girls.

Tony wasn’t sure how long he stared at the photo before he snapped out of it.

“No.” Tony thrust the picture against Rhodey’s chest. “No thanks.”

Rhodey looked hurt and confused by his reaction, but took the photo back.

“Are you sure, Tones?” Rhodey asked hesitantly. “I thought…”

“No.” Tony repeated and turned away for a second to compose himself. When he faced Rhodey again, the man looked drained. It seemed like being in Tony’s presence alone drained any ounce of optimism out of him, just like it used to right after the outbreak. It seemed nothing had changed, really. “Rhodey, I need to talk to you about something. Privately.”

“Sure, okay.” Rhodey put away the photo, much to Tony’s relief. “But first let me check on my guys first. We need that electricity on. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but you should see the town. We’re over twenty families strong now.”

“Sounds like you’ve been living the life out here.” Tony could hear the bitterness in his voice but exhausted to even attempt to mask it. They headed up a flight of stairs that led outside, the cold air flowing in from the open door. “That’s good for you, platypus.”

“It was Maya and her father at first. They set this place up with the idea of being self-sustained. We’ve got crops, livestock, electricity.” Rhodey sounded so proud as he ignored Tony’s bitter remark. As they walked over the dam wall, Tony looked out at the raging water. It looked a lot like what was going on inside of his head. “Remember how we thought no one could live like this anymore? Well… we’re doing it. I still can’t believe it.”

“What do you do for protection?” Tony asked. “Can’t imagine some people would be happy about being locked out of your little salvation.”

“The adults take turns guarding the perimeter. We even have an electric fence when the power’s up and running.” Rhodey continued to lead him through the power plant, the place predictably trashed. There was a golden retriever sat outside the doorway they were headed to, the owner presumably one of Rhodey’s crew. “Keeps the infected out and turns away most of the raiders ad bandits. We get the most use out of it with the infected, though. That’s just how it is now.”

“Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be.”

Tony knelt down to the dog’s height. The dog’s tail wagged the second it noticed it was about to get some attention, its eyes brightening with excitement. He felt some of his hostility drain away as he gave the dog a few strokes on the head. He wondered if this innocent animal understood the horrible world they were forced to live in.

“You sound a lot like Carol.” Rhodey chuckled a little. “That’s Cosmo. He’s not much of a guard dog but he’s good to have around. He belongs to one of my guys, you’ll meet him in a minute. He’s working on getting those turbines working.”

“Cosmo.” The dog perked up at hearing his name and licked Tony’s hand. “Hey, buddy. That’s a good boy.”

After he gave Cosmo a few more pats Tony got to his feet and followed Rhodey into the control room. There were three people inside, one by the control panel and two bent over a set of plans. The pair made their way over to them, Tony’s mind wandering to Peter. He knew the kid would be safe with Maya, especially if she was Rhodey’s wife, but he couldn’t shake the distrust.

At least Peter would be able to eat some food. They had been running low on rations for a few days now.

“These two geniuses are gonna bring this plant back to life.”

“We think we got it this time.” One of the men bent over the plans retorted. Rhodey snorted. “What, you don’t believe us?”

“I didn’t say that did I, Quill?”

“It’ll work.” The man, Quill, replied. “This is the one!”

Tony followed Rhodey towards the turbines themselves.

There were two men lowering the final turbine into place. If Tony still had his lab and access to the resources he had before the outbreak he could have made something much more efficient to power their little town no matter how big it was.

Ideas he couldn’t create spun around his brain as Rhodey bantered with his crew. Rhodey looked virtually the same since the last time Tony saw him, save for a few lines beneath his eyes. His hair was longer, too. He was sure faring a lot better than Tony and most of the general population.

Tony flinched slightly when the power plant suddenly roared to life. He blinked, his eyes blurred.

He must’ve gotten lost in thought.

The men and Rhodey cheered as the turbines spun.

“Nice work boys. Someone get on the radio and tell Maya the good news.” Rhodey gestured for Tony to follow. “Now that’s out of the way, let’s go talk.”

Once they were tucked inside of an old office, Tony felt his shoulders slump. He rested his hands on one of the desks and sighed. When he looked at his friend, Rhodey was already looking at him with his arms crossed over his chest.

The man was worried, it was obvious, but there was something else in his expression that Tony couldn’t quite place. Rhodey was different, somehow, not just physically.

“Quite a crew you got out there.” Tony’s thumb caressed his watch. “Where’d you find them?”

“They’re good men. This place gives them a second chance. It gives us all a second chance.” Tony knew what Rhodey was alluding to. Their dark years together when they did anything and everything to survive. The years before Rhodey left him for the Fireflies. “They come from all over, but you don’t care about that, do you? Why did you leave Boston, Tony? Who’s the kid?”

“I’ve been on quite the adventure, platypus. You wouldn’t fucking believe the shit I’ve been through just to get here.”

“I bet. The kid. Peter.” Tony closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “I never thought… I never thought I’d see you with a kid again. This adventure… I’d assume it has something to do with him?”

“It has everything to do with that kid.”

“Well, go on then. Tell me.”

Tony took a deep breath and steeled himself.

Once he said it there was no taking it back.

It didn’t matter if he had grown attached to the kid.

“He’s immune.”

Rhodey blinked.

“Immune to what?”

Tony stared at his friend with a deadpan expression. Rhodey’s eyes widened for a moment before he scoffed and shook his head in complete and utter disbelief. He wasn’t the least bit surprised that his friend didn’t believe a word he said. He wouldn’t have either if he was on the other side of things.

“Really, Tony?” Rhodey sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you think this is some fucking joke?”

“It’s not a fucking joke. I’ve seen that kid breathe in enough spores to take down a dozen men.” Tony straightened himself up and took another deep, shuddering breath that rattled his ribcage. “Rhodey, I saw him get bitten a second time. Nothing. No symptoms. He didn’t turn and that was months ago.”

Rhodey stared at him for a long time analysing his expression. Tony stared right back without flinching.

“Alright.” Rhodey took a seat and stared right into Tony’s eyes. “I’ll bite. Why bring him here, then? Does Nat know anything about this? Where is she, anyways? I find it hard to believe she’d think you’d be okay travelling alone with some random immune teenager.”

Tony’s stomach flipped and his deadpan facade crumbled.

“Nat…” Tony shook his head. “She’s gone.”

“What?” Rhodey’s shoulders slumped. “She’s… how?”

“She was bitten, Rhodey, how the fuck else?” Tony almost yelled as tears started to burn in his eyes. “This was her fucking job. She and Peter got bitten at the same time, and guess what, she started to turn and Peter didn’t! I saw it myself, this is real. Do you really think I would bullshit something like this after… after everything we’ve been through? Natasha died for this!”

Rhodey didn’t say a word. He just nodded for Tony to continue.

“We were supposed to deliver Peter to the Fireflies.” Tony felt his stomach churn at the thought of leaving Peter behind. He was nothing more than cargo. “I need you to take him there. You finish the job, you get the whole damn payment. All I’m asking is for some simple gear to set me on my way, that’s it. You’ll never have to see or hear from me again.”

Multiple emotions flickered over Rhodey’s face and Tony could decipher none of them.

“I haven’t seen a Firefly in years.” The other man’s tone was scarily even. Whatever grief that had been displayed on his face was gone in seconds and replaced with frustration. “What makes you think I would do this for you?”

“You know where they are.” Rhodey’s face didn’t change. “This isn’t for me. This is for your damn cause. This is a cure to mankind.”

“My cause is my family now. Maya is my cause. Believe it or not, I gave up on hope for a better world a long time ago. She is the most important thing to me.” Rhodey looked so disappointed in him that it felt like he was back at that fucking boarding school. It was the same look that Howard used to give him. Rage and grief started to simmer deep in Tony’s gut as he listened to his friend deny the one thing he needed. “I won’t leave her. I’m not doing any more jobs for you, Tony. This isn’t Boston.”

“After all those goddamn years I took care of us?” Tony snapped. “This is how you repay me?”

“Took care? That’s what you’d call it?” Rhodey really looked at him then. There was fire in his eyes. “I got nothing but nightmares from those years.”

“You survived because of me!”

“Well, it sure as hell wasn’t worth it!” The man took a step closer to him and jabbed Tony in the chest with his finger. “You want some gear? Fine, take it, but I am not taking that boy of your hands. Maya is… she’s pregnant, Tony. I’m going to be a father. I have to protect my family no matter what.”

Tony blinked.

He blinked and saw Pepper on the couch caressing her pregnant belly, her eyes filled with love when she looked at him.

He blinked again and saw Pepper dead in the car, the glass shard protruding from her skull, her pregnant belly covered in red.

“I bring you the cure to mankind and you don’t even want to take that chance?”

Rhodey shoved him this time, hard enough for Tony to stumble back a few steps. The rage, grief and guilt combined made Tony want to hurl himself at Rhodey and punch him in the face repeatedly but instead he stayed rooted to the spot and waited for Rhodey’s anger to rear its head.

“Really? That’s all you’ve got to fucking say?” Rhodey growled. “You think I don’t miss Pepper and Morgan too? You think I didn’t grieve for them? You and them- you guys were my family.”

Hearing Pepper and Morgan’s names out loud felt like Tony had been stabbed. Before he could throw an insult back to deflect the agony he felt, Rhodey continued to yell at him.

“You were my family, Tony. You were my brother.” Rhodey jabbed him in the chest a second time. The man’s eyes were filling with tears. “You might not think it but you died that day too. I grieved you the same way I grieved Pepper and Morgan. They were your world and I get it, fuck, do I get it.”

It felt liked he was being stabbed repeatedly now.

“But just because life stopped for you, Tony, doesn’t mean it has to stop for everybody else.” Rhodey had stopped yelling at him now. “Maya is my family and I cannot take that risk.”

Tony didn’t even get the time to process everything his friend had thrown at him before a deafening siren echoed around the power plant.

“What the fuck is that?”

“We’re under attack.” Rhodey turned away from him and grabbed a rifle that was leant against the wall. “You still know how to kill, right?”

Tony sighed and grabbed his gun from his pocket. He forced Rhodey’s words to the back of his head and focussed on the worry he felt for Peter instead. Fuck, they should never have separated.

“Yeah.”

The second they exited the office, hell broke loose within the plant.

“Bandits!” One of the men yelled as a smoke bomb exploded by the turbines. Gunfire echoed around the space, Tony only able to watch as one of Rhodey’s men crumpled to the ground in a heap of limbs. He’d been shot in the head. Everyone else, Tony and Rhodey included, ducked for cover as the smoke cleared. “Don’t let them into the building!”

He had to get back to Peter.

Tony and Rhodey slowly fought their way through the building with the help of Rhodey’s crew, only losing two on their way through. Outside was even more chaos, the gunfire loud and piercing as both sides fired at each other. Cosmo was gone, hopefully safe and hiding somewhere and not shot dead by one of the bandits.

The brisk outside air didn’t faze Tony as he charged ahead and shot the first bandit he saw on the bridge. He ducked behind an old crate and waited for Rhodey to slide down beside him.

Their conversation and hurtful words forgotten, the two worked alongside each other just like old times and forced themselves over the bridge and into the second main building that made up the power plant.

Rhodey’s fighting hadn’t changed a bit. He was just as brutal as he had become in the early years of the apocalypse.

“James, bandits! They’re breaking into the building!” Rhodey’s radio suddenly roared to life. Tony could hear the gunfire through the static, along with Peter’s panicked sounds in the background. Fear that he was going to lose the kid only made Tony kill faster. He grabbed a chunk of concrete that had been dislodged from the floor and cracked a bandit over the head with it. The man dropped instantly without a sound. “We’re trapped, they’re- they’re here! Peter, hide!”

“Maya, we’re coming!” Rhodey yelled into the radio but was met with silence. “Just hold on- Maya? Fuck!”

Silence was never good.

Peter and Maya weren’t too far away now.

If the kid wasn’t alive when they reached him, Tony didn’t know what he would do.

Fuck.

He couldn’t lose another kid.

The rest of the fight was a complete blur. Tony fell into the motions of killing anyone who wasn’t one of Rhodey’s crew without a second thought. He didn’t look at their faces, he didn’t listen to their pleas, he didn’t care about who he was killing. All he cared about was getting to Peter.

The lower levels of the power plant was like a maze to Tony, but Rhodey seemed to know exactly where he was going. There were many bandits scattered within the building, what they were here to steal, Tony had no clue, but that was the least of his priorities.

His only priority was to get to his kid.

“Maya?” Rhodey called into the radio as they ran. “Can you hear me?”

Nothing.

Peter was alive, he had to be.

It felt like hours before Tony saw them.

Maya and Peter were cornered by three men on the lowest level of the building. They were hidden from sight of the intruders, but that wouldn’t be the case for long. The men were all on edge, guns raised and ready to shoot at the slightest movement. Rhodey and Tony stood on either side of the doorway, silent. When he looked to his friend he understood the look the man gave him immediately.

They’d done this plenty of times during the early years of the outbreak whether they were stealing from people or getting out of a sticky situation with infected.

It was nothing but target practice. Tony took out the first man without a sound and choked him to death. Then the pair took out the last two men in tandem with twin shots to their heads. Both bodies slumped to the ground and finally the world around them became silent.

“James, Maya, we’re all clear up here!” A voice echoed through the radio. “You guys good?”

“All clear down here.” Rhodey heaved into the radio. “We’ll come back up soon.”

Without waiting for a reply, Rhodey turned off the radio and rushed past Tony to grab his wife.

“Maya!” Rhodey almost cried out. He gently cupped her face and then caressed her belly, his hands shaking. Tony’s heart twisted painfully at the sight. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah… yeah I’m okay.” Maya almost collapsed into Rhodey’s arms and hid her face in his shoulder. “We’re both okay.”

“Tony!”

Peter.

The kid rushed past the husband and wife and practically threw himself at Tony.

Tony stumbled a little when the kid hugged him, not having expected the sudden contact. Peter hid his face in Tony’s chest and squeezed him tight, his entire body trembling so much he may have fallen over if he hadn’t latched onto the older man. Tony was brought back to the morning Sam and Sarah died, the way the kid clung onto him so similar to that day. That same protectiveness started to overcome him as he wrapped his arms around Peter and rested his chin on top of the kid’s head.

With a deep sigh of relief that his kid was safe, Tony squeezed Peter just a bit tighter to make sure this was actually real. Peter melted into the contact instantly, his hands gripping the back of Tony’s jacket in tight fists.

After a moment he pulled Peter back to get a good look at him. He kept his hands on the boy’s shoulders as he checked him over, thankful when he couldn’t see any blood on the boy.

“That was scary.” Peter heaved, eyes wide with fear as he looked up at Tony. “They came in every direction, and Maya was like, we gotta run and we threw o-ourselves over these tables and-”

Peter started to cough. Only now did Tony realise how red the kid’s cheeks where and how much his chest was heaving.

“T-then some guy shot at us with a massive s-shotgun, and-” Peter coughed and wheezed again, one of his hands moving to grip Tony’s wrist. “I thought we were gonna die!”

“Are you hurt?” Tony asked, his own chest tight. “Did they get you?”

“No- no, I’m o-okay.” Peter coughed and hunched over. “I c-can’t- Tony I can’t breathe!”

“Shit, hold on kiddo.” Tony mumbled with panic as he pulled Peter’s backpack off for him. He rifled through the thing to find Peter’s inhaler as the teen lowered himself to the ground, one hand on his chest. “Just wait a little longer buddy.”

“Ow.” Peter heaved. “I c-can’t-”

“I know.” Tony finally found the inhaler the bottom on Peter’s backpack and dropped to his knees. Without thinking Tony cupped Peter’s face and gently lifted his head. Peter’s eyes were wide with panic as one of his hands snapped to grab onto Tony’s sleeve. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? You’re okay, bud. You’ll be okay.”

Tony raised the inhaler to Peter’s lips and pushed the button down. Peter did as he was told and inhaled the medicine, immediate relief showing on his face. He took two more puffs of the inhaler before he pulled away and rubbed his face.

Tony could feel eyes on him. When he turned his head just slightly he saw Rhodey and Maya watching them, quiet conversation going on between the husband and wife.

“Spider-Man wouldn’t have fucking asthma.”

Rhodey and Maya forgotten, Tony turned back to Peter. Peter’s face was returning to its normal colour, though his hands continued to tremble. Tony wasn’t sure what to do now as he watched Peter calm himself down, the guilt tearing him apart when the teen looked at him with so much trust. They’d come so far, much further than Tony should have ever allowed, since they first met back in the QZ.

Tony slowly got to his feet and offered a hand to Peter. The kid took it after a moment’s hesitation, still heaving in deep breaths as he looked around at the gruesome sight they were faced with.

After twenty years Tony had become so desensitised to the dead that he had forgotten the bodies were even there. The longer Peter looked at the bodies, the quicker his demeanour started to change and the mored concerned Tony became.

“Come here, kid.” Tony wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders and pulled him to his side. Peter did so without protest but his eyes didn’t lose that haunted look. Guilt threatened to eat him from the inside out. How was he ever going to let Peter go? “Let’s head outside.”

When Tony turned around he was met with Rhodey’s stare. It took one look at his friend to know exactly what he was thinking.

Morgan.

Without a word shared between them, the group made their way back upstairs and into the courtyard. Rhodey’s people had congregated there, some injured but nothing fatal. Cosmo was glued to Quill’s side, eyes as sad as Peter’s as the man petted him on the head. Thankfully it looked like most of Rhodey’s crew had made it out of the ambush alive, including their horses. With the turbines working it looked like they were getting ready to head back to Jackson.

Peter remained tucked under his arm but seemed to show some interest in Cosmo. Tony rubbed the kid’s shoulder despite the voice in the back of his head and turned to Rhodey, who was looking at his people rather than Tony. There was sadness in his expression, most likely for the two men they had lost to the bandits.

Rhodey’s eyes flickered to his.

“Tony…” Rhodey trailed. “You should come with us back to Jackson. We have gear for you there and you two deserve a good nights rest. We have spare houses and there’s plenty of kids. You won’t believe the progress we’ve made.”

Tony wanted to protest, but the more he thought about it, the more sound the proposition seemed. Maybe once he saw where Peter would live until he went to the Fireflies it would be easier to let him go.

“Alright.” Tony replied. “What do you think, kid?”

“Sounds good.” Peter yawned. “How will we get there?”

“You can take one of our horses. It’s not far from here, you’ll love it.” Rhodey smiled warmly at Peter. Maya held her husband’s hand in a white knuckled grip. She looked even more exhausted than she had before, but Tony found it hard to look at her now that he knew she was pregnant. “We’d better head off before dark. You two take Shimmer.”

Rhodey gestured to the closest horse. With a nod, Tony led Peter over to the horse and helped him mount it. The haunted look started to leave Peter’s eyes as he looked at the horse in wonder, his hands gently patting its fur.

“Awesome.” Peter whispered. “But… kinda scary. I didn’t realise horses were so high up…”

“Don’t worry, Shimmer’s a good girl.” Rhodey reassured the kid as Tony hopped on himself. The man turned to Tony next, one hand stroking Shimmer’s snout. “Follow Maya, she’ll lead you to Jackson.”

“Got it. Hold on, kiddo.” Tony said as he took the reins in his hands. “You don’t wanna fall off, do you?”

“No!” Peter wrapped his arms around Tony and rested his head on his back. “You wouldn’t let me fall, right?”

Tony’s heart swelled with protectiveness and something else he didn’t want to acknowledge. He thought of Morgan, her beaming face fresh in his mind, and shoved it down before the guilt could consume him for the umpteenth time. Morgan had also loved horses back when she was alive.

“No, bud. I won’t let you fall.”

Peter hummed, obviously too exhausted from the day’s events to give a proper reply.

“I promise.”

As he started to steer Shimmer to follow Maya, dread started to cloud Tony’s thoughts.

He didn’t want to leave Peter behind.

The kid would despise him.

However, it was his only choice.

It was in Peter’s best interest.

He had to.

Chapter Text

Tony had become used to the destruction that followed in the wake of outbreak day. In the early days after, houses were relentlessly looted, ravaged by infected or just abandoned all together. It didn’t take long for nature to reclaim the earth, most towns now overgrown and unliveable. Houses, no matter the condition, were targets and unsafe to stay for in long periods.

Unless you were lucky like Clint to have an entire town to himself with a reputation so intimidating that no one ever tried to break in.

In the early days most people died trying to get back to their homes. Tony and Rhodey never got the chance to head back home after Pepper and Morgan died. Tony couldn’t stand the thought of it, mind blinded with the unbearable loss of his babies. Rhodey had just followed whatever he did in those early years, probably out of fear that Tony was going to kill himself.

He’d definitely thought about it.

His life before cordyceps destroyed his world had only been a distant, agonising memory until Rhodey showed him that photo. It increased his guilt tenfold, his thoughts filled with Pepper, Morgan and his baby boy as they made their way to Jackson. Peter’s weight against his back was heavy, the boy having fallen asleep somewhere during the ride.

He knew he was going to get this kid killed. Tony had to make Rhodey see, it was the only way Peter would survive.

Cargo. Just cargo.

Though, when Peter flinched in his sleep and squeezed Tony a little tighter, that little voice in the back of Tony’s mind started to talk louder.

With each glance at his shattered watch, his heart broke a little more as the guilt threatened to swallow him whole.

He didn’t want to leave Peter.

Tony shoved that thought down.

The trip to Jackson was short enough that they made it just shy of sunset. When the town finally came into view, Tony couldn’t help the way his eyes widened at the sight of the town. True to Rhodey’s word, the town was surrounded by an electrified fence good enough to turn away any unwanted humans or infected.

When the gates were opened for them, his shock only increased.

Jackson was unlike anything Tony had ever seen in the years after outbreak day.

The town was… a town. Rhodey hadn’t been lying when he said Tony wouldn’t believe the progress they’d made.

The town was in great condition, better than anything in he’d seen in years. Something uncomfortable settled in the pit of his stomach as he looked around at the well-maintained buildings that didn’t suffer the same weather damage and overgrowth as the rest of the places Tony had been through. It almost looked like something he would see before the outbreak.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was amazing considering the world they lived in. Natasha had told him the rumours of course, but Tony had refused to entertain them.

There were people everywhere. While it wasn’t unusual for big groups of people to exist, this wasn’t like Boston where everyone looked miserable and hated everything about their lives. These people actually looked happy, their clothes much cleaner than anything Tony had ever owned after the outbreak. They looked well fed, too. Healthy.

People stuck in the QZ would kill to live in a place like this.

Even Natasha, as hardened as she was, would have loved to live here. No wonder she brought it up to him so much.

“Woah.” It was the first thing Peter had said since they left the power plant. Sometime while Tony was taking everything in the kid had woken up. “Fuck, this is so much better than FEDRA’s boarding school. Ned would have…”

Peter trailed off and didn’t say anything else. Tony’s heart broke a little but he shoved that down too.

As Maya led them towards the horse stables, most, if not all the people they passed greeted Maya with warm smiles and bright eyes. She was definitely well respected if she had created this place. It looked as if Rhodey had found one of the good ones in this hell of a world, and while he did feel some kind of happiness for his friend there was also that deep rooted grief and even jealousy that would never go away.

At least Peter would be happy here after the Fireflies did what they needed with him.

Tony immediately hopped off Shimmer once they reached the horse stables. He didn’t even have to look at the kid to know he’d need help getting down.

Peter had that wide-eyed look as he looked at the ground and then at Tony.

“Here, kid.” Tony raised his hands to lift Peter off the horse. “I’ve got you.”

He tried not to think about Morgan as he lowered Peter to the ground. The kid seemed wary once his feet were on the ground, his eyes focussed on the stable full of horses. There were a few kids hovering around, most of them crowded around a foal.

“Follow me, I’ll take you both to one of the free houses.” Maya said as she got off her own horse. Rhodey had split off a little while ago with a few of his men with the promise that they would catch up again soon. Another woman came forward to grab both horses. “Riri will look after Shimmer.”

Maya just smiled kindly at them before she led them out of the stable. Tony wasn’t sure he was prepared for how different experiencing the town would be at street level. He blinked, and for a second he was back in Texas going for an evening walk with his family.

“Mr. Stark.” Peter, as he usually did, broke Tony out of his memory. “This is so cool… is this what it looked like before the world went to shit? I’ve seen it in books at FEDRA.”

“Yeah.” Tony replied. “Mostly like this. You would have loved it, kid.”

“I know. I’d love not being scared of fucking dying every day.” Peter said it with a laugh, but Tony could hear the underlying tone in his voice. “Dude, you were famous. Did you live somewhere like this? Where was your lab?”

“I did.” Tony winced. “Kid…”

“I bet your lab was so cool.” Peter bounced beside him with excitement. “I could have used it to make my webs and make my suit. I would tell you if I was Spider-Man, by the way, even if his identity is supposed to be secret and all… but if you had that cool fucking lab… aw, man!”

Ahead of them, Maya looked back at Peter, her expression warm. Tony didn’t miss the way she caressed her stomach for a moment. After a second, she looked at Tony, and her face hardened a little. Not completely, there was no hostility, just curiosity. He was sure Rhodey had a lot to say about him after their last explosive conversation.

“We don’t have anything as cool as a lab here, but we do have some art supplies.” Maya said to Peter, whose eyes widened. “I can take you there tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Tomorrow.

Tony shut his eyes for a moment and tried not to hear Peter’s excited reply.

They won’t be here for long. Peter will go with Rhodey, or any of his men that he trusted, and Tony would go his own way.

Alone.

There would be no Natasha waiting for him like there used to be.

“You’re welcome to stay for however long you like.” Maya smiled kindly at them. She had no idea about the conversation that had gone down between Rhodey and Tony. “We have more than enough space and supplies for you both. My father and I worked so hard to bring this place to life. He would have loved to welcome you two here.”

“Really?” Peter looked at Tony then. He looked unsure. Tony knew it was because of his condition and the Fireflies. Sooner or later, the kid would figure Tony out and hate him for it. Fuck, sooner or later he would actually have to leave the teen. It wouldn’t just be a thought anymore. “Your Dad sounds like a nice man. Thank you.”

“He was.” Maya’s shoulders slumped a little at that. “He gave everything for this place.”

Maya’s father, like most people’s, was dead.

Tony wondered if Howard was looking down on him right now. What would the man think of what he’d become? He’d hated Tony enough before he died, but what he turned into after the outbreak was something else entirely. His mother and Jarvis would have been horrified at the things he'd done.

It didn’t take long for Tony’s mind to get away from him. They continued down the main street, the sky almost dark now. Peter walked a little ahead of him now, happily conversing with Maya and asking her a million questions about the town. She looked just as happy to answer him.

There were families everywhere. They were happy, living in a way that was almost like how things were before the infection destroyed the world. Grief tore him apart from the inside as he watched a mother help her young daughter climb down the stairs of their house, memories of Pepper and Morgan flooding his mind.

He’d done the same when Morgan was a toddler and learning how to walk. His little girl had spotted a butterfly in the garden and wanted nothing more than to get to it. Tony had held her hand and watched with a smile as he helped his baby down the steps. There had been so much determination in her brown eyes.

Pepper and Morgan would have loved this place. They could have lived out their lives here together if they had all made it. If his baby boy at made it.

Tony looked at Peter, then. The kid looked happier already, eyes full of wonder as he listened to Maya.

The kid would be better off without him.

The house Maya led them to was at the end of another street by the wall. It was a two storey house, big enough to fit Tony’s family inside. He could imagine where the nursery would be, where Morgan’s bedroom would be, where his and Pepper’s bedroom would be before they even entered the house.

It was difficult to think that Morgan and his baby boy wouldn’t be kids anymore if they were alive today. Their ages were forever frozen and Tony would never get to watch them grow up.

Peter was back by his side now. Maya opened the front door for them, her eyes shining with some worry when her eyes met Tony’s.

“Tomorrow, when you’re ready, James will meet you in the middle of town.” Maya said as she brought them to the front door. “Have a shower, rest, do whatever you like. Even take a look around and grab some food. Like I said, you’re welcome here for as long as you need. We’re happy to have you both.”

“Thank you, Maya.” Tony said as he wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders without thinking. Peter leaned into the contact, his exhaustion evidently starting to return. “Come on, Pete.”

“Thank you.” Peter said to Maya as they entered the house.

“You’re welcome, boys. Have a good night.”

With that, Maya headed down the front steps and left them alone.

Tony closed the door behind them and flicked the light switch. The inside of the house itself was quite bare but still had evidence of whoever used to live here before the outbreak. Broken picture frames, old toys. However, there were other things, too. The house had been prepped for someone to stay in, most likely by Maya and Rhodey.

“Wow.” Peter whispered as he peered around the space. “This is nice. Even my room at FEDRA wasn’t this nice.”

“Yeah.” Tony headed towards the stairs. “Come on, kiddo.”

Just like his old home, upstairs were several bedrooms and a bathroom. One of the bedrooms had definitely belonged to a kid, which Peter immediately realised as well. Peter disappeared into the room and started to rifle through the bookshelf. Tony knew he shouldn’t stay and watch, but he felt compelled to look over the teen as he looked at every single book on the shelf.

“No fucking way!” Peter exclaimed as he yanked out several comics from the bottom shelf. “Star Wars!”

Peter tossed them on the bed along with his backpack and continued to look around the room. It wasn’t perfect, but there was still so much left behind from the old world. Tony almost couldn’t believe how much had been left here. Most of it usually got destroyed by the weather or looters.

Tony leant against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as Peter found another three Star Wars comics. Peter, for the first time in the time since Tony had met him, was truly acting his age. For the first time, they weren’t running from infected or hunters, or walking in silence for days on end.

Tony thought of Morgan, how he would lean against her doorframe and watch her and Pepper play with her dollhouse. It was their favourite thing to do together, and even Tony would join in sometimes. Mostly he adored watching the people he loved the most spend time together.

To his surprise, his eyes started to burn.

Before he could attempt to hide it, Peter looked directly at him. Tony could see the emotions cycle through his expression at a rapid pace.

Confusion, shock, worry.

“Are you okay?” The kid asked. His shoulders slumped and all his excitement disappeared. “Tony?”

Fuck, Peter was never supposed to see him like this.

The only time he’d cried was after Sam and Sarah. He wasn’t even sure if Peter remembered.

“Fine.” Tony turned away from Peter to hide his vulnerability. “You should shower, kid.”

“Tony…?”

Peter’s voice trailed off but Tony kept walking.

He made his way to what looked like the main bedroom and didn’t look back. He ignored the pain in his chest that came from the way Peter had called for him, his tone sad and lacking any of his previous excitement. Tony closed the door behind him and tore off his backpack, a sudden urge of grief fuelled anger coursing through his veins as he slumped onto the bed with his head in his hands.

He wanted to punch something. He wanted to scream and tear his hair out, but he did nothing of the sort.

Instead, Tony just sat there and let the tears flow down his cheeks.

What was he doing?

He’d let himself get too deep into this job.

Internally he screamed at Natasha for ever getting them in this mess. He screamed at her for dying, for leaving him, for taking this job at all. Tony fell deep into the clutches of the panic attack without realising, his chest heaving with shaky and uneven breaths as his mind replayed everything he wished to forget. He didn’t want to leave this kid, he cared for Peter, but he couldn’t fathom the thought of breaking him the same way he broke Natasha.

Somewhere in the midst of his panic attack he heard movement outside the door. He held his breath and forced himself to calm, his chest jolting with the effort as he held everything in. He could sense Peter out there, hovering by the door. Listening.

He couldn’t let Peter see him this way.

After a few moments of silence, Tony heard a small sigh come from the other side of the door. Retreating footsteps followed shortly after.

Tony let out a shuddering breath and slumped on the bed. He stared at his watch for a long moment and caressed the shattered glass with his thumb. The exhaustion came over him in a wave of anguish, his eyes already beginning to shut. However tears continued to leak from his eyes, draining down the sides of his head as he thought about his family.

Eventually the grief and guilt lulled him into a fitful sleep.

-

“Mr. Stark!” Peter stumbled into the lab with his arms full of… Tony wasn’t actually sure. He abandoned his project to watch the teen head in the general direction of his desk, a box blocking his vision. How the kid had made it to the lab in one piece was a mystery to him. “Tony!”

“Jesus, kiddo.” Tony huffed a laugh as he watched Peter. “Need a hand?”

“Nah, I’ve got this!”

Peter dropped everything in his arms onto his desk with a thud. The cardboard box tipped sideways and out spilled a clump of red and blue fabric. Peter’s pencil holder was also knocked over, his coloured pencils spilling over the side of his desk and on the floor. Peter rushed to catch them, but most ended up rolling in different directions across the lab floor.

“Shit.” Peter huffed and sighed. “That’s so fucking annoying.”

“Careful, Underoos. Don’t let Pep hear you talking like that.” Tony smirked at Peter’s terrified expression. Tony got up from his desk and made his way over to Peter’s. He ruffled the kid’s hair, who smiled brightly at him from the affection. “What’s all this?”

“Leftover shi- uh, stuff from school.” Peter grabbed the fabrics and showed it to Tony. “It was perfect for my Spider-Man suit? I was, uh, hoping you could help me make it?”

“‘Course I can.” There were already plans forming in Tony’s head as he picked up the fabric and looked at it himself. He wasn’t someone who knew how to sew, or do anything in that realm really, but for Peter he would learn. The kid had been talking about his Spider-Man costume for months. “When do you want to start?”

“I have to finish my sketch first.” Peter kneeled down to pick up his pencils. “Ned gave me some cool ideas. I can’t wait!”

“Sounds like a plan, bud.” Tony didn’t look at Peter as he reached to pick up a red pencil that had disappeared beneath his own workbench. “I think Pepper and Morgan would love to help you, too. They know a lot more about sewing than me.”

Peter didn’t reply, but Tony just assumed the kid had become distracted by his notebook. Tony finally managed to reach the red pencil, but when he pulled back, he bumped his head on the underside of his workbench.

“Fuck.” Tony cursed and rubbed the top of his head that now throbbed with pain. “Hey, bud, I have your-”

He was cut off by a pained whimper.

Tony whipped around, immediately on high alert.

His heart stopped when he saw the scene in front of him. Peter was splayed across the floor, his chest heaving, his head and stomach covered in blood. The fabric was abandoned on the ground, soaked with Peter’s blood, his eyes wide with fear as he reached for Tony with shaky, bloody fingers. Tony collapsed on the ground beside his kid, tears blurring his vision as he pulled the boy into his arms.

Peter was crying and holding his wrist up to him. The bite mark was fresh and dripping blood, black veins already spreading over the boy’s skin.

“No, kid, don’t do this to me.” Tony muttered as he hugged Peter’s body to his chest. “Please don’t do this to me.”

“T-Tony…” Peter cried out, his hands now resting on his bloody stomach. “T-Tony!”

A few moments later, Peter’s body went still. Tony stared into his kid’s lifeless eyes, his own leaking with tears as he felt his heart break. Before he could properly react, a shrill screech of an infected came from upstairs followed by the panicked screams of Pepper and Morgan. Along with their screams was a baby crying so loud that it made Tony’s skull ache.

He couldn’t do anything to save them.

He stayed on the floor, Peter’s body bundled in his arms, sobbing as the infected destroyed his life. It wouldn’t be long before it came to get him too.

Tony rested his head on Peter’s forehead and shut his eyes.

The infected hurtled down the stairs, uncoordinated limbs unable to hold it up. Tony heard it fall over at the bottom, snarls and growls filling the otherwise silent lab.

The moment the infected jumped on him and dug its teeth into his neck, Tony awoke with a jolt.

For a moment he didn’t remember where he was. He heaved in deep breaths, his heart pounding as his eyes wildly took in the room.

He was in Jackson with Rhodey. Not in the imaginary lab he shared with Peter in the dream.

Peter.

Tony slowly got to his feet, his body drained and exhausted of any energy. It felt like his arms and legs were filled with water weighing him down, but even despite the pain, he pushed himself to his feet and headed for the bedroom door.

It was still dark out, but from the sounds of people’s voices outside, it wasn’t late. He’d most likely been asleep for an hour or two.

Tony left his bedroom and headed for where he’d last seen the kid. The teen’s cries for him echoed around his skull as he headed for the closed door, terrified about what he might see behind it. His knuckles wrapped around the doorknob, skin white as he braced himself to open it. His entire body was trembling with aftershocks of the nightmare.

He’d never had a nightmare involving Peter before.

Tony slowly pushed open the door and peered into the room. His shoulders slumped with relief when he saw the kid was still inside.

Peter laid on his side facing the door, eyes closed and body relaxed with sleep. He was bundled beneath the blankets, only his head poking out the top. Quietly Tony made his way over and sat on the side of the bed, far enough away that he hoped he wouldn’t disturb the kid’s rest. Peter’s eyebrows furrowed slightly when he sat down, but other than that, there was no reaction.

Peter was alive and safe.

He hadn’t thought it was possible for his nightmares to get worse.

Tony heaved in a shaky breath and stared at Peter’s sleeping face. He looked so much younger when he was asleep, so much more vulnerable. Protectiveness filled him as his hand reached out in an aborted motion to caress the kid’s face like he would with Morgan when she drifted off. He abandoned the action at the last second and rested his hand on the teen’s shoulder instead.

Peter shifted a little and burrowed deeper into the blankets. His little girl would always lean into his touch whether or not she was awake.

Tony couldn’t let his nightmare become a reality.

He didn’t want to leave Peter behind, fuck, he didn’t, but there was no other choice.

Everyone that got close to Tony died.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would get it through to Rhodey that he couldn’t do this job.

Tomorrow Peter would learn the truth and hate his guts.

Maybe it was easier that way.

Tony slowly got to his feet and headed for the door. Before he could leave, however, he stopped and turned back around to look at Peter one last time. How could he possibly think of this kid as cargo after everything they’ve been through? How could he after that nightmare?

The boy trusted him with his life. Tony wasn’t blind to that.

It was all the more reason that Tony shouldn’t stick around.

He closed the door behind him and headed into the bathroom instead to take a shower. He desperately needed one, and it looked like the kid had gone ahead and had one too. There were even spare clothes in the bathroom of all sizes. Maya and Rhodey had really thought of everything.

As he showered, he avoided looking in the mirror the entire time.

By the time Tony was back in bed, all he could do was stare at the ceiling until the exhaustion eventually claimed him once again.

This time, however, there were no nightmares to greet him when it did.

-

Peter seemed a lot happier when he met Tony downstairs the next morning.

Tony had spent most of his morning staring out the window contemplating how he was going to get through to Rhodey while he let the kid sleep in. Even though it had been hours ago the nightmare he’d had was on a constant loop inside his head. Peter’s cries, the look on the teen’s face before his life left him. The sounds of Pepper and Morgan upstairs, how rigid his body had felt as the infected clambered down the stairs to end his life too.

It made him fucking sick.

When Peter bounced down the stairs dressed in nice, clean clothes, Tony almost couldn’t handle the guilt that was slowly tearing him apart. Peter already looked much happier here, most of the stress that was usually on his face gone entirely.

The kid didn’t mention anything about the night before as they made their way to the middle of town. Peter was chattering away like he always was, Tony humming and replying when it was necessary as his eyes roamed around the area for Rhodey. The sooner Tony got through to him, the sooner he could pack up and leave. The sooner the better, or else he would start having second thoughts.

Peter had to go with someone else.

Just like when they had arrived the town was bustling with people. Builders worked on fixing some of the buildings while children played in the street without a worry in the world, their parents watching from their porches with fond, relaxed smiles.

It was almost alien. Tony always heard rumours about places like these across the country but it always sounded too good to be true.

Tony almost stopped walking completely when he saw a blonde woman holding a baby on her front porch. While her only resemblance to Pepper was her hair colour, and even then it wasn’t the same as his late wife’s beautiful hair, Tony couldn’t help but imagine the woman as her. In another life, maybe this could have been Pepper with their baby boy.

“I’m almost ready to tell you your superhero name, Mr. Stark.”

Peter’s voice sounded far away as Tony tore his gaze away from the mother and her baby. His eyes were blurred when he turned to look at Peter, who wasn’t even looking at him. He was looking at the same mother and baby Tony had been looking at, eyebrows furrowed just slightly.

Please don’t ask. Please don’t fucking ask.

Peter looked away from the mother and back to Tony.

“I can’t wait to see your reaction. You’ll love it!”

Thank you.

“I’m sure I will, bud.”

He wanted to know what superhero name Peter had conjured up for him. He cared.

“Tonight I can tell you!” The kid grinned at him. Tony’s heart sank when that grin quickly fell from Peter’s lips, his breath catching slightly in his throat. For a second, he panicked that Peter had seen something on his face and figured him out immediately. “Wait… when are we going to keep going? We can’t, uh, forget about you know…”

Tony looked away from Peter and focussed on the street ahead. In the corner of his eye, Tony saw Peter clasp his wrist.

“We’ll talk about that later, okay?” Tony lied. The guilt increased tenfold. “First, food.”

“Later… okay. If you say so, Mr. Stark.” Peter muttered. Tony immediately noticed the change in the boy’s tone but refused to look at him. “I’m fucking starving.”

The walk to the middle of town didn’t take long. The town itself was very close-knit and everything was within a reasonable walking distance. Peter didn’t talk much on the way, not nearly as much as he had been when they left the house. The kid’s silence didn’t help the guilt thrashing through Tony’s body in the slightest.

All he could do was remind himself that this was in Peter’s best interest.

Tony spotted Rhodey almost immediately. The man was sat out the front of what looked like used to be a restaurant before the outbreak. Maya was sat beside him, their hands intertwined as they talked quietly amongst themselves.

Maya spotted them first.

She waved them over with a kind smile, though her face was even paler than it had been the previous day. Pepper had looked the same in the early weeks of both her pregnancies and Tony had felt so hopeless watching her suffer through the terrible morning sickness. He felt sorry for Maya now, having a child in the midst of an apocalypse. While it wasn’t too abnormal in more recent years, Tony couldn’t imagine trying to raise a baby in a world like this.

“Good morning.” Maya said once Tony and Peter reached them. “Hungry?”

“Starving.” Peter replied with a sigh.

“Come with us.” Maya turned into the restaurant. “You can have as much as you like.”

The inside of the restaurant didn’t have too many people inside, most likely because Peter had woken up rather late. The tables were set up like a high school cafeteria, but instead of feeling like he was back in the boarding school Howard forced him into, it felt cozy. Almost homey.

They were served two plates of breakfast food. Peter immediately began to eat, but Tony felt himself hesitate. While he was starving, the guilt caused him to feel so nauseas that he had no longer had much of an appetite.

Rhodey, even though he was trying to be subtle, watched over him like a hawk. It was the same way he used to watch him back when they first met. There was something the man wanted to say, it was obvious. Tony wished he would just spit it out.

Slightly annoyed by his friends intense stare, Tony forced himself to eat. It was better that he did, especially when he didn’t know when the next time he would get a decent meal like this.

To his surprise, Peter cleared out his entire plate in record speed. He was shocked the teen didn’t make himself sick with how fast he ate, but when Peter showed no signs of discomfort, he didn’t decide to mention it.

“That was amazing.” Peter said and took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. “Thank you.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Maya replied, her smile soft. “I was thinking you could come with me to check out all of our art supplies. I could even give you a proper tour of Jackson, maybe you could meet some of the other kids while we’re out?”

Peter absolutely lit up. He turned to Tony, eyes wide with excitement. This time, Tony found himself smiling at the kid despite everything going on inside him. For just a moment, he forgot about the Fireflies, about the job. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel the same warmth he felt when he looked at Morgan as he looked at Peter.

When his eyes briefly met Rhodey’s, however, the moment was broken and all at once the guilt and grief flooded back.

“That sounds awesome!” Peter turned back to Maya, practically vibrating with excitement. He didn’t seem to notice when Tony’s smile fell, all signs of his earlier suspicion gone. “Are there a lot of kids my age here?”

“Yes, there’s quite a few.” Maya stood up and grabbed her and Peter’s plates. “I think you’ll really get along with Miles. He also loves to sketch and draw.”

“Really?” Peter got to his feet. “My friend Sarah liked to draw too.”

The sudden mention of Sarah felt like a punch to the chest. Tony tried to school his expression but he knew Rhodey could see right through him. Peter also turned to look at him, his eyes sad, but he was still smiling.

“Are you coming with us?” Peter asked, the brief sadness morphing into hopefulness. “This is the perfect time for me to tell you your superhero name, you know?”

“No. Rhodey and I have some more catching up to do. Sorry kid.”

Tony didn’t miss the way Peter’s shoulders slumped with obvious disappointment.

Peter got up from the table, eyebrows furrow and smile gone. Overwhelming dread filled Tony as he watched the teen shove his chair back and snatch his notebook off the table with animosity he hadn’t seen since before Sam and Sarah died.

Tony immediately wanted to reach out, apologise, do something, but his body remained rigid in his chair. Peter looked at him again, his eyes searching Tony’s almost desperately.

Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t seem to find it.

Tony couldn’t shake the feeling that Peter knew exactly what was going through Tony’s head.

“It’s fine.” The kid borderline snapped. “It’s… fine. Whatever.”

With that, Peter turned his back on all of them and headed out of the restaurant without another word. Tony’s eyes locked on his plate, his half eaten food now even more unappealing than it was before.

“I’ll look after him.” He heard Maya say. “You two figure out whatever is going on between you, okay?”

“Yeah.” Rhodey replied. Tony heard them kiss. “We will.”

With that, Maya left the two of them alone.

When Tony mustered the energy to meet Rhodey’s eyes, he immediately wished he didn’t.

“What?” Tony snapped. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Tony…” Rhodey sighed and pinned the bridge of his nose. “Get up.”

Rhodey, with as much frustration as Peter, shoved his chair back and headed towards the exit as well. Tony took a moment to gather his thoughts before he stood up and followed his brother out of the restaurant. They didn’t speak as Rhodey led him down the street, Tony’s eyes roving around the area in search of Peter and Maya. They’d already vanished from sight.

Rhodey led him to the very back of the town, right up to the electric fence.

“This needs fixing.” Rhodey pointed in the general direction of the wall. Tony could already see the issue, the mechanic part of his brain kicking into gear. “No one else here can figure it out, so that’s where you come in. It was good we found you.”

Tony, in desperate need of a distraction, started to work on the wall without a word of complaint.

-

The day had passed by in a blur. Tony fixed the issue with the town’s electric fence within a few hours, his mind filled with thoughts of Peter as he did so. Rhodey hovered by him and helped when needed, though they didn’t speak. Most of the day was spent in a tense silence neither of them wanted to break.

Now, on the cusp of night, Rhodey brought him into his home.

Unlike the house Tony and Peter had stayed in, this home was a lot more personalised. There were pictures of Rhodey and Maya, a mountain of supplies that people in the QZ did all kinds of shady jobs for. People like Tony and Natasha.

It was a home, nonetheless.

It made Tony’s heart sting.

They sat in the living room in silence for a few minutes. Tony’s body ached with exhaustion yet sleep felt so far away. Peter and Maya were still out, and even though he knew the kid was safe, he couldn’t shake the worry and fear that something was going to happen to him. If this was how he felt now when Peter was still within walking distance, how was it going to be when Tony inevitably left him here with Rhodey?

How could he have let himself get this attached to some random kid?

“Tones.” Rhodey was the first to break the silence. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. I know it’s complicated for you hearing that Maya’s…”

Tony barely contained a flinch.

“The point is, I’m sorry.” Rhodey continued. “I know you’re happy for me in your own way.”

“Yeah.” Tony huffed out. Deep down, he was happy for his friend. It was something the man had always wanted before the outbreak but he could never find the right person to start a family with. “I am.”

Another patch of silence dragged on between the two.

“Peter.” Rhodey was the first to break it yet again. “I’ve watched you two. That kid trusts you, Tony, and I know you care for him too. I never thought… I never thought I would see you act this way again after Pepper and Morgan. This is going to be just as hard on you as it will be on Peter.”

“It’s the only way.” Tony flinched at the mention of his girls. “He would be safer with anyone else.”

“What makes you say that?” Rhodey asked. “Tony, I can’t…”

“Can’t what, Rhodey?” Desperation and anger began to surge up his throat. “If you’re about to tell me you can’t take the kid-”

“No. Let me finish.” Rhodey interrupted. “I can’t watch you fall apart again. You’re different around Peter, I can see it. I see the old you, even when you try so hard to hide it. You might be able to hide it from everyone else, but you can’t hide that from me, Tones.”

“You heard me yesterday. I’m not sticking around.”

“Tony.” Rhodey insisted. “I’m sorry for the things I said yesterday. I mean that. I understand now.”

“Do you, Rhodey?”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved in a deep breath. The longer he sat here listening to Rhodey talk, the harder it was going to be to break the news to Peter. He flinched again when Rhodey placed a firm hand on his shoulder and squeezed, the touch almost comforting after so long without it. He’d missed his brother.

“I’ll take him to the Fireflies. You don’t have to worry about it.” Tony looked at Rhodey then, his eyes starting to tear up. “Just please, stay. Maya will look after you while we’re gone. When we come back, stay. Please, Tones.”

“No.” Tony shook his head. “Natasha died and I couldn’t do anything about it. I watched a brother shoot his own fucking sister and himself and all I could do was stand there and watch. Pep, she was dead before I could even- my- my son-”

Tony choked on a barely contained sob.

“I wasn’t even fast enough to protect my baby girl from that fucking soldier.” He pulled away from Rhodey and wiped his face to rid it of tears. Pain was etched into every crevice of his friend’s face, Rhodey’s eyes also beginning to fill with tears. Distantly, he heard the sound of the front door creek, but his mind was too foggy to properly comprehend it. “Everyone who gets close to me, everyone I start to care about dies. I can’t- I can’t watch that happen to you. To Peter. This is the best for him and it’s the best for you. So you take him to the Fireflies, you do what I can’t.”

Before Rhodey could reply, Maya’s voice ruptured the atmosphere.

“James?” Maya’s voice was scarily even. Tony’s head whipped around to the living room archway, eyes wide when he spotted both Maya and Peter standing there. “What the fuck did I just hear him say?”

Peter’s face was as white as a ghost. He held his notebook tight to his chest, his knuckles as white as his face, eyes filled with hurt and betrayal as he stared directly at Tony.

“Maya-”

“You can’t seriously be fucking considering doing this? Tell me you’re not, James!” Maya’s hand rested on her stomach as she stormed her way over to her husband. At Rhodey’s stunned silence, her anger increased tenfold. “All it takes is one fuck up. One! One fuck up and I become like those widows and our baby will grow up without a father!”

Peter was still staring at him.

Tony stared back, unable to form one coherent thought.

Fuck.

After a few more seconds of staring at each other, Peter turned on his heel and took off running.

“Peter’s immune, baby.” Rhodey replied as he watched the kid disappear out the front door. “I have to do this.”

Tony got to his feet with the intention fo chasing after Peter, Maya and Rhodey’s conversation still finding its way to his ears.

“Immune?” Maya huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, right. Nobody’s immune.”

“It’s true.” Rhodey replied. “I wouldn’t do this if this wasn’t real. I have to, Maya. For us. I’ll come back.”

“For us? Staying here is the best thing for us.”

Maya turned on Tony then, her anger fierce like a raging fire. She jabbed her finger into his chest, much like Rhodey had done the day before, her eyebrows furrowed with fury and even desperation. He could see the tears filling her eyes as she stared into his soul.

“James has told me all about you. I know all about what you two did in your past. I don’t blame you for it, I even understand the situation you were in. I know a lot about grief.” Maya growled. “I lost my baby boy on outbreak day too. I lost my father. I’ve done terrible things. But if anything, anything fucking happens to James, it’s on you.”

Tony just stared, unable to find the appropriate words to stem her fury.

“I will never forgive you if James doesn’t come home.” Maya spat at him. “He’s all I have left.”

With that, Maya shrugged off Rhodey’s attempts to comfort her and stormed out of the room.

Rhodey swore and slumped on the couch with his head in his hands. Tony couldn’t think of anything to say, so he said nothing at all and left the house entirely overwhelmed with guilt. Peter could have gone anywhere and neither of them knew the town well enough to know where to hide.

Tony ran through the town nonetheless, eyes searching frantically for Peter’s familiar curls. He was nowhere to be seen, the panic only becoming more intense as he checked every single communal building. Peter was in none of them.

He wouldn’t have left, right? The kid wasn’t that stupid.

In a last ditch attempt at finding the kid, Tony headed back to the house they’d been given in the hopes Peter would have gone there. When he entered the house, it was dark and silent inside with no sign that Peter had returned. He headed upstairs without hesitation and made a beeline straight for the room the kid had slept in.

When he opened the door, his shoulders slumped with relief when he saw Peter inside.

The kid was sat on the windowsill with his notebook in hand. It was open, the kid’s fingers caressing one of his sketches. It was the one of the robot Tony had seen months ago, coloured in with red and yellow pencil.

Peter didn’t even look at him when he entered. His eyes remained locked on the sketch, lips pressed in a thin line.

After a moment, Peter slammed the notebook shut and picked up another book that looked like a diary. It wasn’t Peter’s, so it must belong to whoever lived in this house before the outbreak.

“Is this really all they had to worry about?” Peter asked as he flicked through some of the pages. “Boys. Movies. Deciding which shirt goes with which skirt. It’s just… bizarre. They didn’t have any of this shit to worry about, you know? I can’t imagine not looking over my shoulder every five seconds.”

“Kid…”

Peter flicked to another page.

“Reed gave me his pencil today, he even smiled at me! Maybe he does feel the same for me?”

“Kid.”

Peter ignored him and turned a few more pages.

“I’m going to ask Reed on a date today. I hope he says yes! Maybe roller skating could be our first date?”

“Peter!”

Peter slammed the diary shut and sneered at Tony.

“Why are you here?” Peter asked.

“I’m here to talk to-”

The teen scoffed and shook his head with a pained looked on his face.

“No, why are you still here?” Peter looked at him then, eyes watery and filled with hurt. “If you’re going to ditch me, ditch me. I heard what you said. Get it over with already.”

Tony couldn’t breathe. He said nothing, his chest tight with pain as he stared at Peter who stared right back at him with piercing brown eyes.

“Right.” Peter curled in on himself and hugged his knees. “I was going to show you my notebook today because I thought you actually gave a shit. I- I really fucking thought you cared. But you’re just going to leave me behind with Rhodey like none of this even mattered!”

“Rhodey knows this area better than I do.” Tony managed to force out through the rock lodged in his throat. Peter’s grip on the diary became white knuckled as he turned to glare at Tony. “You’ll be safer with him-”

“Fuck that!” Peter threw the diary on the floor and got to his feet. “Just admit that you wanted to get rid of me this whole time!”

He didn’t. He didn’t want to do this.

Fuck, what was wrong with him?

“I trust him better than I trust myself.”

“Stop with the bullshit.” Peter looked at him, pleading. “What are you so afraid of? That I’ll end up like Sarah? I can’t get infected, I can take care of myself!”

“How many close calls have we had, huh?”

Tony yelled, loud enough that Peter jumped. All at once the grief, rage and guilt poured out of him. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to turn around and leave Peter here without a second thought no matter how much it hurt the both of them.

It would be better than this.

“Well we seem to be doing alright so far!”

“And you’ll be doing it even better with Rhodey!”

Tony turned his back on Peter and took a deep, heaving breath that shuddered through his ribcage.

“I’m not them, you know.”

Tony spun back around and focused his glare on Peter.

“What?”

“I heard you talking about your family.” Peter replied, his voice quiet and hesitant. Tony froze, fists clenched, memories of his daughter’s eyes piercing his heart as he stared at Peter’s brown doe eyes. They were just like hers. “You had a son and a daughter-”

“Peter.” Tony growled. “You are treading on some very thin ice right now.”

“I’m sorry about your family, Tony, but I’ve lost people too.”

This only made the rage boiling within him worsen.

Peter hadn’t seen what he’d seen. He hadn’t seen his pregnant wife with a glass shard in her head, he didn’t see her lifeless body broken in the upturned car. Peter hadn’t seen Morgan in Tony’s arms covered in blood as she died right there in front of him while he could do nothing to stop it.

Peter hadn’t seen any of the nightmares that plagued Tony’s dreams every time we went to sleep.

“You have no idea what loss is.”

It was a selfish thing to say and Tony knew it was untrue deep down. However, the urge to push the kid away so it was easier on the both of them overrode any guilt he felt in that moment.

Peter’s eyes spilled over with tears at the words and he took a step closer to Tony.

“Everyone I have cared for as either died or left me.” Unexpectedly, Peter shoved Tony hard in the chest. He stumbled backwards a few steps, his own heart breaking as he watched Peter cry desperately in front of him. “Everyone fucking except for you! So don’t tell me I’ll be safer with someone else because the truth is I’d just be more scared.”

Tony couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t look at Peter, a crying mess in front of him, pleading for Tony not to leave him with Rhodey.

“You’re right.” Tony crossed his arms over his chest. The next words that left his mouth were unexpected and he regretted them immediately the second they came out. “You’re not my son and I’m sure as hell not your Dad. Tomorrow we are going our separate ways whether you like it or not.”

Peter just stared at him, breathing heavily with tears streaming down his face. Then, he picked up his notebook from the windowsill and hurled it at Tony.

“Fuck you!”

He didn’t move. He let the book hit him in the shoulder hard and fall back to the floor with a thud. It opened on another page that contained a sketch of the robot, the words Iron Man written in bold letters at the top of the page. It was coloured in the same red and yellow pattern.

Distantly he remembered Peter asking for two of his favourite colours. He’d said red and yellow.

There was no doubt that Iron Man was supposed to be Tony.

Right now he felt the furthest thing from being a superhero.

Peter turned away and slumped back onto the windowsill. He didn’t look at Tony again, his chest heaving with the sobs that he was trying to keep in as he rested his chin on his knees. Tony wanted to go over there and apologise, maybe bring the teen into a hug and comfort him like he used to with Morgan, but instead he turned around and left the room without another word.

Tony closed the door behind him and leant on it with a heavy, broken sigh. He stared down at his watch, the jagged glass resembling the way his heart felt. He almost felt like ripping the thing off his wrist and never wear it again.

Every urge within him told him to go back in there and tell the kid he was sorry. He could hear him sniffling behind the door, no doubt still crying because of Tony's words.

Tony forced himself to head into the same bedroom he’d slept in the night prior. He slumped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Somehow he felt more alone than he ever had as he laid there with only his thoughts for company.

He thought of Morgan and her beautiful smile that belonged to Pepper. She was the perfect mix of both of them. Tony had been the obsessed with the idea of his son, curious about the features his baby boy would have. Would he have Morgan’s doe brown eyes, or would he have Pepper’s blue eyes?

He never got to find out.

His thumb caressed the watch for a moment before he let out another heavy sigh.

Tony thought about Natasha. If she were here right now she would have smacked some sense into him. He could almost hear her now, telling him to get over himself and just take the fucking kid to the Fireflies like they were supposed to. It was her dying wish, he could at least give her that much.

Natasha would force him to admit that he’d started to care about Peter like he was his own son.

The longer Tony thought about everyone he loved, the more he hated himself.

The longer he thought about Peter, the worse the thought of leaving him became. Peter’s words echoed around his head, the broken look on the boy’s face at the very front of his memories.

Saying those things to the kid was supposed to make it easier to let him go.

“Fuck.” Tony groaned and rubbed his face. “What the hell am I doing?”

There was no one there to answer him.

-

Tony was awake and out of the house at first light.

He didn’t check on Peter before he left. The kid’s door was still closed, the entire house completely silent as Tony tiptoed around. If he checked on the teen he wouldn’t be able to leave. The guilt would consume him and he would eventually get Peter killed.

That thought alone was enough to propel him out the front door.

All he thought about was leaving as he snatched the gear that had been left on his porch sometime during the night and made for the horse stables. It must have been Rhodey who dropped it off because no one else except Maya knew about Peter, and there was no chance Maya would ever provide him with anything now.

Tony managed to reach the stables in record time with the intention of stealing one of the horses so he could make his leave quickly without interruption. By the time the reins were in his hands and it was time to go, the first ounce of guilt broke through the facade and brought his plan to an abrupt halt. Tony’s entire body slumped as he stared at the horse, who just blinked back at him, blissfully unaware of the tormented man that was about to steal it.

Tony sighed and gave the horse a stroke on the snout. Morgan would have loved to be in a horse stable like this. She would have begged to pet every single one, then eventually pick out her favourite to ride. This horse shared the same innocence that Morgan had. The same innocence that Peter had from time to time even though he was a lot more hardened than Morgan had ever been.

He thought about the look on Peter’s face when Tony told him he wasn’t his son.

Peter trusted him. Peter wanted him around, the very thing that Tony had tried to avoid, yet here he was standing next to this stupid fucking horse frozen on the spot. It would be so easy to just get on and ride out of Jackson without a second thought. That was how it was supposed to go.

That was how it would have gone months ago when he first met Peter. Tony would have ditched the kid with the Fireflies without a second thought, got those fucking weapons Natasha cared about so much and be on his way. If he was lucky, he never would’ve thought about Peter again. He and Natasha would have continued life as usual.

But, Natasha died and the plan went skyward.

Where would he even go once he left Jackson? He had no purpose without Natasha.

He had no purpose without Peter.

Eventually, when the memories became too much, Tony would probably let himself get mauled to death by a crowd of clickers. He would give up the way he wanted to after Pepper and Morgan died.

At first, Rhodey had been the one to keep him alive. Then Natasha, then…

Peter.

Tony glanced at the horse, then his white knuckled grip around the reins.

His feet remained rooted to the ground.

He didn’t move.

-

Tony wasn’t sure how long he stayed inside of the stables before Peter and Rhodey showed up.

Peter’s shoulders were slumped when he came into view, his hands wrapped around his backpack straps as he followed behind Rhodey. Rhodey was packed and ready to go, his large hunting rifle hooked into his backpack that was filled with supplies. The pair hadn't seen Tony yet.

Rhodey’s face was unreadable, there was no way to tell how he was feeling. The kid, however, had his emotions written all over his face. It looked like he was a second away from crying, his gaze focussed on the ground with no interest for any of the horses around them.

Peter nor Rhodey noticed him until they reached the very back of the stable where Tony had hidden himself. Peter’s eyes widened at the sight of him, several emotions flickering across his face before it settled on disappointment.

“Tony.” Rhodey asked, one eyebrow raised as he began to prepare the horse beside Tony’s. “I thought you were gone.”

Tony shrugged and began to fiddle with the horse’s saddle to keep his hand and mind busy as he sifted through his thoughts.

“You’re leaving?” Peter asked, his tone scarily even. “You weren’t even going to say goodbye, were you? Why are you even still here?”

“Well, I came here to steal one of Rhodey’s horses.” Tony sighed and stared at the horse. It continued to stand there, existing, waiting for Tony to do something. “I was going to leave before any of you could notice I was gone.”

“Figures.” Peter scoffed and shook his head. Hurt shined in his eyes. “Well, fuck off then.”

“But then I thought…” Tony sighed and met Rhodey’s eyes. The man stopped what he was doing to look at his friend properly, eyes widening slightly as he caught on to what Tony was implying. “Your wife kinda scares me. I don’t want her coming after me, she’s scarier than a fucking bloater.”

“Tones?” Rhodey asked as Peter’s disappointment and anger faded away into a look of confusion. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that wife of yours would kill me if anything happened to you.” Tony replied with a slight smirk, even though his heart was pounding. He felt the furthest thing from cocky right now. “So it’s best you stay here, platypus. I got this one.”

Peter’s mouth fell open slightly in shock.

“Tony, can we at least talk about this back at-”

“You know me. Once my mind is made up, the deals done.” Tony gestured for Peter to come over. “Come on, kiddo. Up you get.”

The smallest of smiles spread over Peter’s face as he made his way over to Tony and let him help him up onto the horse. The kid was hesitant, as if Tony was going to take it back at the last second. He just ruffled the kid’s hair and relished in the relief he felt once the kid was situated on the horse.

When Tony stared at Peter’s relaxed face after the pain he’d seen the night before he realised this was the right decision. There was no way he would have been able to live with himself if he left Peter with Rhodey without a word. If something happened to either of them and he had just left…

He wouldn’t have been able to take it.

“Where can I find the Fireflies?”

“University of Eastern Colorado.” Rhodey replied as he removed his backpack and unhooked the rifle. He handed it and a map to Tony, who took it without a word and hooked it onto his own backpack. After a moment, Rhodey surged forward and wrapped Tony up in a tight hug. “You’ll find their lab in the science building. It’s like a giant mirror, you can’t miss it. You’ll find what you’re looking for there.”

Tony took in the information carefully.

University of Eastern Colorado.

It should be easy enough to reach, especially with a horse and a map.

Tony squeezed Rhodey back and shut his eyes.

“Rhodey…” Tony trailed off. “Thank you.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Rhodey pulled back and stared at him right in the eyes. “The university is all the way out.”

Tony nodded and smiled at his friend. This time it was genuine.

“You take care of that wife and baby of yours.”

“Don’t worry. I will.” Rhodey slowly released him and took a step back. The one hand that still remained on Tony’s shoulder squeezed. “There’s a place for you here, you know. Both of you.”

Tony just nodded with a slight smile, his heart constricting with love.

He almost considered ditching the mission all together right then and there. Maybe once the Fireflies were finished poking and prodding at Peter they could come back and live a calmer life. Tony wasn’t so sure about returning to the hell that was the Boston QZ.

Tony heaved his tired body onto the horse and let the relief fill him when he felt the familiar presence of Peter behind him.

“You good, Spider-Man?”

Even though he couldn’t see Peter’s face, he could hear the contentment in the boy’s tone.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

With one last meaningful look sent in Tony’s direction, Rhodey stood out of the way to let them through.

“Bye, Tones. Stay safe, alright? There’s some more medicine for Peter’s inhaler in his bag.”

Relief flooded through Tony.

“Will do, platypus.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Thank you.”

With that, Tony rode the horse out of the stables and towards the exit of Jackson. The people manning the front gate didn’t say a word as they let them out, most likely having been briefed by Rhodey beforehand.

Tony nor Peter said anything as they rode further and further from the safety of Jackson, the silence almost awkward as Tony checked the map every now and then to make sure they were headed in the right direction. Eventually, they reached a slope that looked over Jackson, a strange feeling washing over Tony as he stared over the little town.

“Kid…” Tony began. “I’m sorry for the things I said.”

“Me too.” Peter whispered. “I’m just… I’m just so fucking glad you changed your mind.”

He looked away from Jackson and at the map Rhodey had given him instead. Any remaining regrets he had about changing his mind left Tony’s body as Peter rested his head on his back and sighed. It was a sigh of relief.

University of Eastern Colorado was circled on the map. It would take days to get there.

But as Peter squeezed him slightly in a hug, Tony pocketed the map and turned the horse away from Jackson.

“Me too, buddy. Me too.”

Chapter Text

The days following their exit from Jackson were calm.

No infected, no bandits. Nothing. It was just a peaceful ride throughout the forest that seemed to be never ending. The map Rhodey gave them was extremely useful and easily prevented them from getting lost. It ended up taking a week to reach Colorado.

In the last few days the weather had started to become colder as winter approached. Peter had his head rested on Tony’s back, as he seemed to do a lot lately, absentmindedly talking about anything that came to his mind. Tony listened along, thankful that their argument hadn’t seemed to change much between them. Somehow things even seemed to be better between them.

After Tony’s initial apology they hadn’t really spoken about the fight. There was no use.

“There it is, Underoos.” Tony said as the university came into view. “Go Big Horns.”

“What the fuck are Big Horns?” Peter muttered as he peered over Tony’s shoulder. “That’s the university? That’s huge!”

“Big Horns is the school football team.” Tony replied as he urged their horse, Peter had called him Sandwich for whatever odd reason, towards the massive group of buildings. “I wasn’t really into any of that shit. I had other things to focus on in college.”

“Yeah, cause you had a lab and you were famous.” Peter replied. “Did you go to a super fancy university like this? Did people really live here and study, even when they were all grown up?"

“You could say so. Study, party. Mostly find themselves and figure out what to do with their lives.” Tony replied. “My memories of it aren’t so fond, though.”

“Oh… why?”

Initially, months and maybe even days ago, Tony would have snapped at the kid for even thinking of asking about anything in his past. But now that he’d made the decision to take Peter to the Fireflies himself he’d found himself more willing to talk about those things he’d buried deep down for twenty years.

“My father was the overbearing type. He sent me to MIT when I was fifteen straight after forcing me to go to boarding school.” He could almost hear Howard’s voice now. The man had screamed at him for hours after scoring less than what was acceptable on the first assignment he received from MIT. He’d scored an A-. “I don’t like to talk about him much, even so many years after he died. Howard Stark was… complicated.”

“Fifteen? In college? I thought it was for grown ups.” Peter went quiet for a moment. “Did he, uh, die in the outbreak?”

“No.” Tony bit down on his lip to stop any anger from brewing. “All that was… before. He and my mother died years before any of this happened. Howard would be rolling in his grave right now if he knew how the world turned out. Fuck, how I turned out. He was always the most disappointed in me.”

“Well, he sounds like he was a dick.”

Tony let out a surprised laugh at that.

“You’re damn right about that one.”

Tony brought Sandwich to a stop out the front of the university entrance. The old brickwork was covered in overgrowth, abandoned cars filling the parking lot along with old barricades from outbreak day. There were no signs of any infected but Tony was sure they were lingering inside the buildings. If the Fireflies were just contained to the science building they wouldn’t have bothered to clear out any of the other buildings that weren’t of use to them.

Hopefully they wouldn’t have to worry too much about that once they found the science building.

“Tony, none of these buildings look like a mirror to me. How big is this place?”

“Pretty big. We’ll head to central grounds, we should be able to see most of the campus from there.”

To Tony’s surprise the courtyard of the university was open enough for the horse to navigate through. Most of the buildings were still standing and in decent condition but there was no way of telling what was hidden inside. A lot, if not all of the doors to classrooms were barricaded off and had likely been that way since the outbreak. He’d been right in his assumption that the Fireflies wouldn’t touch most of this place, there were far too many buildings.

To think this had been a bustling school once. Peter probably would have liked to go here.

Their first sign of any human life was an open door to one of the old maintenance buildings. It was the first one Tony had seen that wasn’t barricaded off, the balcony the perfect spot for a sniper nest. If he was lucky, if the Fireflies were smart enough to guard this lab of theirs, he would find a nest up there.

“I’m going to check on the upper floor.” Tony said as he brought Sandwich to a stop. “You stay here with… Sandwich. What kind of name is Sandwich, anyways?”

“I dunno, I thought it suited him. Not my fault that Rhodey didn’t tell us his name!” Peter looked worried as Tony slipped off the horse and landed on the ground with a dull thud. The kid looked itching to get off the horse as well, but instead Tony handed him the reins. “Can I come with you?”

“Stay here, bud.” Tony clasped Peter’s knee in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “Call out if you see anything, alright?”

“Okay…” Peter shuffled to where Tony had been sitting previously and held the reins tight. “Be quick.”

Tony headed up the staircase taking two steps at a time until he reached the doorway that exited out onto the balcony. Just as he expected there was an abandoned sniper nest positioned in the very corner of the balcony. All that remained was two chairs, some old crates and spare ammo. Tony took the ammo and tucked it into his pocket, using his other hand to pick up a notebook that had been discarded on the ground. It was a log of everything the Firefly that had been posted here saw.

Tony skimmed all the irrelevant information until he found something interesting in the very last log.

20/08

4 10-ton trucks and a flatbed IN

1 personnel carrier truck IN

2 veteran drivers IN

4 recuit drivers IN

New blond guy was giving me eyes. I hope he sticks around. BTW, what’s with all the commotion? Is anyone going to to tell us what’s going on?

Something about the final words in the log made Tony feel unsettled. The university was too quiet. If the Fireflies kept their lab here there would still be a sniper in this nest checking over anyone that wasn’t a Firefly entering the area. That’s what Tony had expected the second they set foot behind the campus walls, but there was nothing. Just ominous silence.

Like most times, luck wasn’t on their side. There was nothing else in the sniper nest that would help them at all, so Tony left the notebook behind and made his way back to Peter.

“There was an abandoned sniper nest up there.” Tony said as he came into view. Peter immediately relaxed once he saw the man safe. “Scoot.”

Peter scooted back and let Tony get back onto Sandwich. “That’s a good sign right?”

“Yeah…” Tony sighed as they continued through the campus. Thankfully Sandwich was a decent enough horse to jump over one of the barricades that blocked off the road. “Hadn’t been touched for a while, though. Keep an eye out.”

“Shit.” Peter muttered. Tony could hear the frown in his voice. “They’re still here though, right?”

“I hope. Keep an eye out for that building.”

It took another fifteen minutes to navigate through the university before Peter spotted the science building. Rhodey was right, it looked like a massive mirror especially with the sun shining on it. It was a multi-storey building that probably used to house so much equipment that Tony would have adored before the outbreak. Even Peter would have loved it.

Their only way through to get closer to the science building was through one of the other buildings nearby. Every road was blocked off with debris that was too big and too decayed for them to move or climb over. Tony decided to hop off of Sandwich and walk instead, leading the horse down a dusty hallway with Peter still sat on top. The hallway was mostly bare aside from a few cabinets and desks crammed against the walls, some blocking doors.

For a building that had been abandoned for years it was in better condition than most. Eventually they reached the end of the hallway that was blocked off by metal gate. Tony immediately began to pull on it, the metal screech loud and piercing as he forced the gate to slide open.

Just as he was thinking of grabbing one of the cabinets to hold it open for the horse and Peter, Sandwich started to become restless and started to pull hard on the reigns. Fear for Peter who was still sat on top of the stressing horse shot through him as the familiar screech of infected echoed through the building.

“Runners?” Peter asked, eyes wide. “Tony?”

“Stay with the horse.”

Peter’s eyes became wider when Tony stepped on the other side of the gate and quickly shut it behind him, separating the two. It was a library that had two-storeys, the shelves still filled with books, though most of them were flaking away and becoming destroyed by the years of weather.

“What?!” Peter looked at the ground and then the horse, obviously deciding whether or not he wanted to jump off. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I don’t want him running off. I’ll be right back.”

Peter shot him a scared look but did as he was told. Tony could already see movement of the runners on the upper level balcony, their disjointed limbs jolting as they snarled and stumbled around. They were alert from the noise but didn’t know where he was yet.

Tony stayed there for a moment, counting. At least four runners lurked around up there, but no clickers that he could see or hear. Eventually they disappeared into the room above which gave Tony a chance to gather himself. He spotted a generator beside the roller door that blocked off their way out. It was likely that belonged to the Fireflies.

If he started it now it would alert every infected on the upper level and he’d be swarmed in seconds.

The fact that there were runners inside the building was concerning. Whether these people were Fireflies or a different group of people was an entirely different question that he didn’t even want to ask. If they were students, they would have become clickers right now.

Or even worse, bloaters.

He tried not to think about the bad signs and how uneasy he felt. Tony slowly unhooked his rifle from his backpack and made sure it was fully loaded before he left his hiding place. Silent, he crept up the staircase to position himself better, using his left hand to grab a piece of wood that had broken off from the staircase railing to use as a distraction. Now that he was closer to the runners he had a much better idea of what he was dealing with.

He could see two more runners hidden in the library through the archway, both of them stood still and unbothered. Another stumbled into the open in direct line of sight. If the infected weren’t blind it would have spotted Tony in seconds. It jerked and moaned, hunched over itself like it was holding its stomach. It’s mouth snapped and contorted inhumanly, vague cries mixed between the gargles as it stood there.

Tony didn’t care enough to know if the runner was fresh. He threw the piece of wood over the runner’s head so it landed on the other side of it. Immediately three of the infected’s attention was grabbed, the things hurtling in the direction of the sound. After a moment he put down the rifle and decided to use the scoped pistol he’d found in Wyoming and aimed for the thing’s head.

If he was quick enough to get all three shots off the rest would be easy.

If only he had the kid’s bow and arrow.

Tony took a deep breath and fired three quick shots. The first two hit and the bodies slumped immediately, though the third missed and lodged in the wall behind it. The runner immediately threw itself around and headed for Tony along with the three others that were lurking amongst the bookcases.

Tony swore and turned on his heal, just barely managing to pick up his rifle as he shot another round with his other hand. It hit its target in the shoulder, slowing one of the infected down as he stumbled back down the stairs. Just briefly he caught Peter’s worried face through the bars of the gate, the horse neighing with discomfort as the infected threw themselves down the stairs without care.

One of them definitely fell down the stairs. Tony turned around just in time to see it fall on its neck with a sickening crack, effectively taking itself out. The other two followed, though they didn’t suffer the same fate. One of them, a woman, tripped over the dead infected’s body and fell straight into the metal gate Peter was stood behind.

Peter shrieked in alarm along with Sandwich who bucked at the snarling infected that reached for them through the bars. The second was headed for Tony at an alarming pace, the last still at the top of the stairs dripping with blood. That had been the one he shot.

Tony dropped the pistol and aimed the rifle for a headshot. He fired, the sound deafening as the bullet lodged itself in the infected’s weak skull. The body slumped to the floor without a sound.

Before the other infected could make its way down the stairs, Tony shot again. Another fatal headshot.

“Tony!” Peter cried out, the infected still bashing itself against the metal gate to get to them. “The horse is going to throw me off!”

Tony, without thinking, ran to the gate and kicked the infected in the side. The infected fell over with a snarl, already trying to get back up and sink its teeth into him. Tony used his boot to force the thing down, rifle already aimed for the kill. Without hesitating, Tony pulled the trigger and sighed with relief once the world around him fell quiet.

“Are you okay?” Tony asked as he pulled the gate back to let Peter and Sandwich through.

“I’m fine.” Peter heaved. “Fuck, that was scary. I want to get down.”

“Okay, buddy.”

Once Peter was on the ground he appeared much more relaxed. He held onto Sandwich’s reigns as they made their way over to the generator, carefully avoiding the dead infected that littered the floor. Tony noticed Peter staring at the infected that had fallen down the stairs, its body twisted unnaturally on the ground. It was a putrid, gruesome sight.

Tony powered up the generator without much thought, relieved when it turned on without any trouble. With one press of a button, the roller gate opened up and allowed them to exit the library. He almost expected there to be more infected waiting for them but the only sound he could hear was the faint chatter of birds.

A whole new part of the university was revealed to them, the air cold as they stepped out of the building into the fresh air. Peter stuck close by him, his eyes wide as he looked around the massive quad area. There was a giant staircase straight ahead of them, the science building just visible over it. While they were still far away, they were slowly getting closer.

What was on the other side of the staircase was even more of a spectacle. There was a fountain in the middle of the quad surrounded with statues. On those statues were…

“Woah, are those monkeys?” Peter asked as the animals screeched when they saw them. One of the monkeys swung of the statue and tumbled onto the ground in its haste to get away from him. Minutes later, the monkeys were gone from sight. It happened so fast Tony could have imagined them ever being there. “Why are there monkeys here? I thought this was a university.”

“Well, zoos aren’t exactly functioning anymore.” Tony replied as he headed down the steps. “There’s probably all kinds of animals roaming about.”

“Cool.” Peter muttered. “Wait, is that the football stadium over there? It’s so big!”

“Yep, that would be it.” Tony replied. “Thousands of people pack into stadiums like that. You wouldn’t believe it, kid. The world was so…”

“Good?”

“Peaceful.” Tony felt his shoulders slump slightly at the memories. “This quad would have been full of students rushing to class, studying, or just sitting outside on a nice day. They were probably excited for the big Friday game, you would have been amazed by the amount of people that went to those things.”

“Do you… miss it?”

Of course he missed it. He missed it so much.

He missed his babies, his life…

He couldn’t say that to the kid.

“Yeah. I do.”

The mood was somber as Tony gestured for Peter to get back on the horse. Sandwich was calm now, any signs of the earlier panic gone. Peter let Tony help him up without complaint, their conversation coming to a stop as they turned away from the football stadium and headed in the direction of the science building.

Neither of them spoke again until the Firefly logo came into view. It was spray painted on the wall in white spray paint, the first real sign that the Fireflies were here.

Seeing the logo did nothing to soothe Tony’s unease.

It was too quiet.

Their next obstacle came in the form of another metal gate. Tony saw no option but to head into the dorm building itself, his stomach churning at the thought of leaving Peter alone out here. The kid was quiet now, clearly thinking hard about Tony’s response. He could practically feel how Peter was about to burst with questions.

Thankfully, he didn’t ask.

Tony dismounted from Sandwich and turned to the kid. He’d spotted a gap in the debris that blocked a window big enough to get himself through.

“Okay, Underoos. Same thing again.” Tony made sure Peter was listening. “I’m going to check out the building for another way through. I’ll be back, okay? Stay with… Sandwich. Hide if anyone or anything comes, got it?”

Tony didn’t feel good about leaving Peter out here on his own but there was no way of getting the horse through the building. His stomach churned with worry but there was nothing else he could do. Peter would be safer out here than inside the building and there was no fucking way he was sending the teenager in to scout instead. It could just as well be filled with infected people that had been locked in there to die.

This was his only option.

“What if you don’t come back?” Peter asked, his voice small. “You won’t leave me here, right?”

Internally Tony cursed. For the briefest of moments he regretted not leaving Peter with Rhodey.

He swallowed down the awful feeling of guilt and took a deep, shuddering breath to calm his nerves.

Peter was terrified of Tony leaving him. This was his doing.

“I won’t leave you, I promise.” Tony frowned when it looked like Peter didn’t believe him. “Get down for a sec?”

Peter, with Tony’s help, obliged.

Tony made sure Peter was listening as he placed his hands on both shoulders and met the boy’s doe eyes.

“Kid, I…” Tony took a deep breath to calm his shaking voice. Whatever regret had flown through him was gone in an instant as he looked into Peter’s brown eyes, Morgan’s staring back at him for a split second. “I’m not going to run off on you. I’m not going to leave you, I’m sorry that I almost did back at Rhodey’s.”

“I know.” Peter shrugged like it didn’t bother him but it was obvious that it did. “I know you’re not gonna run off, I just… I don’t know, it’s fucking stupid. But what if you actually die in there or something? You think there’s a bloater in there? Fuck…”

“Hey, hey.” Tony brought Peter’s attention back to him. “I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you on the other side of that gate, you just wait for me here, okay bud?”

“Okay.” Peter took a deep, slightly wheezy breath. “I’ll stay.”

With a final small smile sent in Peter’s direction, Tony stepped through the gap in the window and into the dorm building. It was silent inside, the room caked with dust as he looked around for anything useful. There were a few rags that could be used as bandages but that was it. The rest of the items were old books, schoolwork and a few torn and mouldy backpacks.

Tony pulled out his rifle and shoved two shivs in his pocket just in case as he stepped into the main hallway. The hallway was lined with dorm rooms, most of the doors barricaded, some completely torn off their hinges, others covered head to toe in graffiti. The few dorm rooms Tony entered were still filled with the student’s belongings, ranging from clothes to books to university trophies and medals. An open diary lay on one of the desks, the lines filled with words though Tony didn’t feel like reading them.

Like everywhere else the university was frozen in time. As he passed by one of the dorms near the end of the hallway heard the faint clicking of a clicker inside. A student had no doubt gotten infected and locked in their dorm until they turned. They had most likely been stuck in there for the entire twenty years, very well closer to being a bloater than a clicker.

Before Tony could take another step forward he spotted spores in the air. Immediately he grabbed his gas mask and pulled it over his face, swearing under his breath as he followed the direction of the spores. The poisoned air leaked out of a gaping hole in the floor that revealed the lower level of the dormitory building. Tony could already see the infection clinging to the walls below, dread filling him when he realised this might be his only way of getting through to the other side of the gate.

Tony grabbed another two shivs from his backpack and tucked them into his pocket. Once he was ready, he silently dropped down into the lower floor and prepared himself for the inevitable.

As he crept through the floor the sounds of clickers made its way to his ears. He could see one far off in the distance jerking around and screeching every few seconds. It was covered in infection, definitely on its way to becoming a bloater. There was one clicker fused to the wall, clearly dead for some time. There wasn’t a trace of who this person used to be.

These clickers were probably all students. Young adults.

Tony turned his attention to the closest clicker that stood still in one of the doom room bathrooms, twitching and clicking ever so slightly. Tony grabbed one of his shivs and stabbed the thing in the neck before it could notice his presence. It went down with a screech, blood pouring over Tony’s hand as he let the body slump. Once he was sure it was dead he moved on, his breaths heavy through the mask.

Before he could progress much further Tony heard it.

Somewhere deep in the hallway was the guttural groan of a bloater.

With the state of the floor he wasn’t surprised to learn that there was a bloater amongst all the clickers. Tony focussed on the clickers for now, using his remaining shivs to take out as many as he could quietly. He had molotovs ready in his backpack for the bloater, his heart starting to pound as he spotted the thing at the end of the hallway.

The bloater was surrounded by bulging masses of infection that coated that entire area. Behind the bloater and the infected was the door, Tony’s only way out. He hung back behind a cabinet, aware of the rest of the clickers that lingered in the remaining rooms. He slowly took off his backpack and grabbed the molotovs.

He took a deep breath, prepared himself and hurled the molotov at the bloater.

The thing roared with fury, arms swinging as it burst into flames. Tony used the opportunity to grab a piece of debris and hurl it into one of the dorm rooms to attract its attention. Without another person to help, his chances of killing the bloater were slim. If he could just distract it long enough to get the door open…

The bloater, along with the clickers, charged into the room Tony had thrown the debris in. Tony used this as his chance to move, using the dorms and their connected bathrooms to make his way around behind them. The bloater was still on fire, the burning flesh making Tony’s eyes tear up from the disgusting smell. He pushed it to the back of his mind and hurled the second molotov into the room. The infected screeched and screamed as they ignited, the bloater’s roar even louder as it became more and more agitated.

Tony ignored them and headed straight for the door. The door itself was also coated in infection, though it was old and crusted compared to what surrounded the bloater. Tony yanked on the door with all his strength, the hinges screeching as he pulled. The bloater roared behind him at the sound, the infected definitely headed his way now. If he was lucky the molotovs were enough to kill both of the clickers.

If he took any longer he was going to be torn apart. Tony pulled on the door handle hard, hard enough that he heard the infection begin to crack. The thunderous footsteps shook the floor behind him, Peter’s worried face appearing in his head when he couldn’t get the door open.

He had to get back to the kid.

Fuck, he knew this was going to happen.

If he died, Peter would end up dead too.

It would be on him.

With one last effort, Tony yanked on the door with everything he could. Thankfully it was enough to dislodge the infection, the door swinging open so violently that he might have pulled a muscle in his arm. A pulled muscle was the least of his worries as he threw himself through the door and slammed it behind him. The bloater would charge through it in a second if he didn’t find anything to block the door.

Tony used the first thing he found, a large metal filing cabinet, and dragged it in front of the door just as the bloater crashed into it on the other side. Tony’s body jolted along with the bookcase, the bloater’s loud growl shaking him to his core.

He wasted no time in leaving. He made it back to the upper level in record time, finally able to take off the gas mask when the spores gradually disappeared and the air became clean again. There wasn’t anything of interest on the rest of the upper floor which made it easier to make his way out.

When he finally made it outside he could have cried. He made his way over to the gate, silently praying that Peter would still be where he left him.

“Tony!” Peter called out. “You’re okay! Fuck, I heard the infected, was there a bloater down there? It was so loud I could hear it from here!”

“There was.” Tony heaved in a deep breath as he made his way over to his kid. He wiped the clicker’s blood on his pants, disgust curling in his stomach as his mind unhelpfully reminded him of Morgan and Pepper’s blood on his hands the night they died. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Tony heaved and took another shaking breath as he wiped the rest of the blood off. “I’m good.”

There was a generator ready by the gate, most likely placed there by the Fireflies. After a moment of fiddling with the wires, the generator powered to life and the gate started to lift to allow Peter and the horse through. Tony tried not to think about the fact that they still hadn’t seen any Fireflies, or any living people at all. Even the fact that the infected were so close to their lab…

“Do you think those clickers were Fireflies down there?” Peter asked as Tony helped him back up. “Or students?”

“Students, definitely. They’ve been down there for a long time.” Tony replied as he looked at the science building. They weren’t far now. “The bloater has probably been down there for twenty years.”

“So fucking scary.” Peter breathed out and leant his head against Tony’s back as Sandwich trotted towards what looked like a Firefly camp. A Firefly camp with… no Fireflies. The runners, the infested dorms, empty camp. It was all starting to add up. “When I heard it, I panicked. I nearly came in after you, I was so scared you weren’t going to make it out.”

“It got a bit hairy down there for a while, but I’m okay bud.” Tony rode through the camp and kept an eye out for anything useful. “This is a Firefly camp.”

“But it’s empty?” Peter asked. “The clickers were so close to the lab. Why would they leave them that close? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Yeah. Clint used them as a defence tactic, maybe the Fireflies are doing the same.”

As he said it, Tony wasn’t so sure there was any truth to his words. Everything they had seen so far was adding up to the Fireflies being long gone. If they were still here they would have definitely seen or heard something by now.

He couldn’t help the shred of relief that pierced the unease.

Deep down Tony was thankful there was no one here to take Peter away from him.

He didn’t want the teen to be experimented on, poked at with needles or whatever else the Fireflies had planned for him. Even if they could make a cure, how many could they possibly make? The world was too far gone to be saved. Peter had been burdened with the impossible.

Tony said none of his thoughts out loud as they pressed on.

It took another five minutes for them to reach the base of the science building. Tony could see old solar panels on the overhang, multiple power cords running through a gap in the wall, obviously used by the Fireflies. It was still too quiet as Tony dealt with the closed gate, using an old dumpster to smash it open. That alone should have raised some alarm, but even as the dumpster crashed into the brick base of the building, there was nothing. Not even the screech of an infected.

“Come on, kiddo.” Tony said as he tied Sandwich to one of the fence posts. “That’s our way in up there.”

The world remained silent as Tony helped Peter into the building. The kid’s eyes immediately widened as he rushed over to an old microscope that was hanging precariously off a table with only three legs. They were in one of the many science labs, this one almost completely destroyed by the weather.

“There’s plenty more of that in this building.” Tony said as he headed into the main hallway. “Let’s keep moving.”

Tony figured it would be best to follow the power cords. The pair made their way through multiple old classrooms, the kid in awe at any science equipment that remained intact. Tony felt his heart pang with sadness for the teen as he watched him pretend to make something for his Spider-Man suit at one of the desks that still had some beakers on it. The kid would have loved to go to university. He would have loved Tony’s lab. He could imagine Peter fainting at the sight of it.

“Wait… Tony!” The alarm in Peter’s tone set him on edge. He rushed over to the kid, hand ready to grab his rifle, only to see what Peter was ogling at. “That’s… there’s no way that’s you?”

“Ah, fucking hell.” Tony groaned and rubbed a hand down his face.

The poster was old, torn and faded but there was no denying that was Tony’s face. He looked young and well kept in the picture, the goatee he always used to have on his face in full force. The kid kept looking between the poster and Tony, his eyes impossibly wide as if he couldn’t believe that they were the same person. It was an old promotional poster that had probably been plastered across the world in all kinds of schools and universities.

“You look so… different.” Peter gently ripped the poster off the wall and held it in his hands. “Stark Industries?”

“That was my company.” For some reason thinking about the company stung. “It was my father’s first. When my parents died, it all went to me. None of it means shit now.”

“Wow.” Peter looked at the photo again. “I still can’t believe you were famous. Like, the whole world actually knew who you were? You know, I kinda thought you were fucking with me…”

“Yeah, buddy. The whole world knew my face.”

“But they don’t now?”

“Some people noticed over the years. When the outbreak happened I wasn’t really too invested in the company. I… I stayed with my family most of the time.” Tony watched as Peter folded up the picture and tucked it away in his backpack. He had no idea why the kid would want to keep it but he decided not to question it. “People noticed especially a few months after the outbreak when my face was still plastered everywhere. But after a while, people started to care less and anyone who was famous at the time were forgotten about or died. It’s better that way.”

Peter looked at him with a look that Tony couldn’t quite place.

Before he could urge the kid on so they could continue their search, Peter stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Tony’s middle in a tight hug.

It took a few seconds for the shock to wear off before Tony wrapped his arms around the kid and hugged him close.

“Underoos…” Tony trailed, confused at the sudden affection from the kid. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry about your family.” Tony’s heart seized. His jaw clenched with pain, Morgan and Pepper’s faces appearing in his mind. He rested his hand on the back of Peter’s head and held him tighter, the kid’s words instilling the fear of loss in his stomach. Peter almost melted into his hold. “Maybe it didn’t sound like I meant it back at Jackson but I did. I was just so fucking scared that you were going to… I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Tony whispered. “I know kiddo.”

Peter pulled away and grabbed something from another pocket in his backpack.

“Rhodey gave me this when he came to get me from the house after you left.”

Tony stared at the photo in Peter’s hand. It was the same photo of Pepper and Morgan Rhodey had tried to give them when they reached the plant. He could see Peter anxiously looking between him and the photo, eyes wide with both nerves and curiosity.

“He told me a little about what happened…” Tony closed his eyes, fists clenching at his sides. “I, um, understand now. Why you wanted to leave me.”

“Kid…”

“Sorry.” Peter sighed a little. “Do you want to keep it?”

Tony pushed away the grief and opened his eyes. A tear slipped down his cheek which he hastily wiped away and chose to look at Peter instead of Pepper and Morgan. Peter’s eyebrows were creased worry as he continued to hold the photo out in Tony’s direction.

“Why don’t you hang onto it for me?”

“Okay.” Peter replied and carefully tucked the photo away in the same pocket he had placed the old poster. “I promise to keep it safe.”

Peter gave him a small smile, to which Tony reached out and ruffled his hair. The kid playfully swatted his hand away as they continued their search for the Fireflies.

They didn’t find any more evidence that the Fireflies had even been inside the building until they reached the main reception area. There were supplies scattered everywhere, many clipboards filled with medical terms Tony barely understood. Most of what had been written had been scribbled out or destroyed.

Peter picked up another clipboard, eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to read the barely legible handwriting.

“Anything useful?”

“Just a bunch of medical mumbo-jumbo.” Tony sighed and dropped the clipboard. “Looks like they all just packed up and left.”

“I don’t get it.” Peter returned. “Why would they leave all this stuff behind?”

Before Tony could answer there was a loud crash upstairs. Both of them jumped at the sudden sound, the older of the two immediately defensive as he pulled out his rifle and held it in a white knuckled grip. It could be anything. A Firefly, an infected. A non-Firefly would be worse than both. There were plenty of people out there who wanted to see an end to the Fireflies.

They stood there for a few moments, bodies tense as they listened for any more movement.

Nothing. The building remained quiet.

“Stay close.”

Tony and Peter headed upstairs, Peter in front with his rifle in hand. There were more crates throughout the upper levels abandoned by the Fireflies, the hope of there actually being a living Firefly here starting to dwindle the further they got in the building. They reached a sectioned off area covered by a tarp, the floodlight still illuminating the otherwise dark space. The sound had to have come from somewhere up here.

As they made their way through the tarp, Peter started to talk.

“There’s no bodies. That’s a good sign, right?”

“We still have to find where they went.” Tony replied once they made it to the other side. This area was clearly meant for testing, a pile of x-rays left behind on one of the counters in a classroom. Tony and Peter sifted through the pile, both cringing at the sight of the person’s skull that bloomed with cordyceps. “Fuck.”

“This is what it looks like inside?” Peter whispered, eyes wide as he stared at the x-ray in his hand. “Is that… inside me? ‘Cause technically I’m infected, right?”

“I don’t know, buddy.” Tony took the x-ray from Peter and placed it back on the counter. “I don’t think so. Let’s keep moving.”

Reluctantly Peter agreed and followed Tony back into the hallway, one hand rubbing the back of his head anxiously.

Tony didn’t even want to begin to imagine seeing his kid as one of those things.

Another loud clatter disrupted Tony’s thoughts. It came from the room right next to them this time, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps. Tony pushed Peter behind him and raised his rifle in the direction of the closed door. Slowly he tip-toed to the door and pushed it open with the barrel of the rifle, muscles tense and finger hovering over the trigger ready to fire at the first sign of danger.

When Tony discovered the source of the noise he wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or disappointed.

Three monkeys inhabited the abandoned classroom. One was in the trash can, its head snapping to Tony in alarm when he stepped into the room. There were two more up the back of the classroom on top of the counters, their eyes piercing into Tony’s soul as they all just stared at each other for a moment. Then, in a flurry of movement, the three monkeys scattered and hurtled into a connecting classroom. Items fell off desks as the animals fled, a few beakers smashing into pieces as they hit the floor.

“Well.” Peter muttered as he peered into the room. “At least it’s not a bloater, right?”

“Right.” Tony forced his body to relax. “Just monkeys.”

“Still no Fireflies.” Peter peered at more mounds of medical research that had been spread across the ground by the trio of monkeys. “Maybe in all that research they turned into fucking monkeys.”

“Just keep searching, we’ll find something.”

Finally, after what felt like hours but was most likely five minutes, they reached a door at the end of the hallway. Rifle ready, Tony pushed the door with his other hand, only for it to open an inch before it was blocked by something on the other side. He shoved it again with his shoulder but the door still didn’t budge.

If the door was blocked from the other side he doubted he was going to find anyone alive in there. Even if there was an infected inside they would have been able to hear it by now.

Tony hooked his rifle back onto his backpack and used all his strength to shove open the door.

The first thing he saw when the door opened was the body.

Rhodey’s information had been alarmingly outdated.

The Fireflies hadn’t been here for a long time. The body was now a skeleton, all of its flesh gone as it sat in one of the desk chairs still fully clothed. By the clothing and the few strands of hair that clung to the skull, it was the remains of a woman. A Firefly doctor.

The office itself was filled with research. The desk was covered in clipboards, papers and x-rays, an old tape recorder in the midst of the mess. On the wall various x-rays and other papers were pinned to a cork board on the left side of the room, the entire front consisting of several windows that overlooked another section of the building.

Peter made a sound of disgust behind him as Tony picked up the tape recorder and pressed play in the hopes the batteries still worked.

A woman’s shaky voice filled the room.

“If you’re looking for the Fireflies, they’ve all left.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Peter muttered as he moved past Tony and picked up one of the binders. “Way to state the obvious.”

“I’m dead, or I will be soon. Gives me some time to reflect-”

Tony skipped. They didn’t have time to listen to this woman’s reflection.

“…been years that felt like we were…”

Skip.

“…fucking thing was a giant waste of ti-”

Skip.

“…not gonna do this anymore…”

Tony continued to skip through the recording almost desperate to hear a location, a hint, anything that would tell them where the Fireflies had gone to.

“…looking for the others, they’ve all returned to Saint Mary’s Hospital in Salt Lake City. You’ll find them there still trying to save the world. Heh, good luck with that one, Stephen. If you even care, this was Christine Palmer. I’m going to…”

Tony stopped listening.

Salt Lake City.

Peter was by his side now, the binder spilled on the floor where the kid had dropped it once he heard the location.

“Do you know where that is?”

Tony’s mind ran a mile an hour. A part of him was relieved that they’d heard another location on the tape. Another part of him felt grief. That selfish, lonely part of him that emerged even stronger after Morgan and Pepper died had been glad there were no Fireflies at the university to greet them.

He looked at Peter who stared at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

He didn’t want to lose another kid.

Whether that be by Peter dying or being handed over to the Fireflies Tony knew he might lose him either way. There was just as big a chance the Fireflies refuse to let him out of their clutches ever again.

How had leaving Peter even been a thought in his mind?

“Yeah.” Tony eventually forced out, his gaze unfocused somewhere outside the windows. “I know the city.”

“Is it far?”

“It’s not close, but on horseback maybe-”

Tony abruptly stopped talking. His eyes focussed, hairs standing on end as he stared out the window.

Bright light shone out of a flashlight, the light roving around the building. Before Tony could react, the flashlight wandered up to the windows and came to a halt pointing right at them. There was just a second between being spotted and the gunshot that Tony threw his upper half of his body over Peter’s and forced the kid to duck.

The glass shattered over them as the bullet lodged into the wall behind them.

“Who the fuck is that?” Peter exclaimed, one hand clenched around Tony’s wrist in an almost painful grip. “There’s no way they’re the fucking Fireflies, right?”

“It doesn’t matter who they are.” Tony turned towards the door, rifle ready incase there were more people headed their way. “We know where to go so let’s just get the fuck out of here.”

There was no time to peek over the desk to count how many people were headed their way. They’d been spotted, so their only choice was to duck through the classrooms they’d already been through. Tony had only seen the one person who’d shot at them but it was incredibly rare for anyone to travel alone, especially if they were around an old Firefly lab. It was likely they were here to loot whatever the Fireflies left behind.

It didn’t take long for Tony to hear footsteps. Someone was running, fast, headed straight for them at an alarming speed. There was no way he could risk shooting. One bullet and they would all flood in their direction.

Instead Tony prepared himself as the footsteps got closer and closer.

When the man hurtled around the doorframe Tony took his legs out from under him. The man fell into a heap on the floor, gun clattering across the floor in Peter’s direction. Tony lunged at the man and hit him in the head with the butt of the rifle before he could even get to his feet. The man was knocked out from the sheer force of the hit, body lifeless as Tony heaved in deep breaths.

In the corner of his eye he saw Peter pick up the gun. He had half a mind to take it off him but there was no use. It was better if he had something to protect himself.

“Careful.” Was all he said as they exited the classroom and moved into the hallway. “We don’t know how many of them there are. Don’t shoot unless you absolutely have to, okay, Peter?”

“Okay.”

It wasn’t long before two more men made themselves visible. One of them threw a flare down the hallway, bright red flickering off the walls as it landed just a few feet ahead of them. He waited until the men split off into different classrooms to move, Peter’s slightly wheezing breaths making its way to his ears as they ducked behind some old Firefly crates.

“See them?” One man asked the other as they met up in the hallway.

“Nah, empty.” The other replied. “Heard anything from Brock?”

“No. Those fucker’s might’ve got him.”

They were headed in Peter and Tony’s direction now. Only one of them had a gun, the other wielding a wooden baseball bat.

Tony made the man with a gun his priority. Once they were close enough, Tony used the same tactic and took the man’s legs out from under him in one fatal sweep. While he effectively disarmed one of them, Tony wasn’t quick enough to dodge the bat that came flying his way. He was hit hard in the side, hard enough that the wind was knocked out of him.

With no time to recover, Tony haphazardly kicked the man on the ground in the head hard enough to kill him.

At the same time Peter pushed the man with the bat with all his weight. The man hadn’t expected the contact and stumbled, his foot caught on his dead buddy. Tony used that moment to finish him off with a punch in the face, the man’s body crumbling, dazed.

With a boot to the face the man was knocked out, or maybe even dead. Tony didn’t care to check.

Peter’s breaths were becoming even more wheezy now. Knowing that the kid was getting stressed out by both the sudden intrusion and lack of air, he grabbed Peter’s hand and pulled the boy along behind him as quick as he could. The faster he got them out the faster Peter could use his inhaler. The faster they could be safe.

The science building seemed like a maze when they were trying to escape in comparison when they had searched for the Fireflies. Every classroom looked identical to the other but eventually they finally made it back to the staircase.

There was another flare on the landing, evidence that there were still more enemies around. He let go of Peter and raised his rifle ready to shoot at the first person who showed themselves.

To his surprise, there was no one. The world around them had fallen quiet.

The pair crept through the reception and out onto the balcony, Tony on edge as they made their way across it. The only closed door was their best bet.

But, as Tony went to grab the door handle, the door suddenly flew open and a man grabbed him by the neck.

“Tony!” Peter called out but it was too late.

The sheer force of the stranger’s grip caught Tony off guard. The rifle was knocked out of his hands as the man shoved him backwards until his back painfully met with the balcony’s hand railing. He barely had enough time to get his own hands around the man’s neck, his eyes blurring as he struggled to breathe.

Behind him he could hear the glass railing starting to crack under the pressure. Tony squeezed the man’s neck but it wasn’t enough, the attacker had the advantage of surprise.

In the corner of his eye he could see Peter, gun raised and pointed in their direction but the panic was obvious. Tony could practically read the boy’s thoughts.

He was scared he was going to hit Tony.

“You motherfucker.” The stranger growled in his face. “You think you can just go kill my fucking friends, huh?”

Tony couldn’t speak.

With one last effort Tony attempted to shove the man off him but failed.

Then, everything happened at once.

Glass shattered.

Suddenly there was nothing behind Tony’s back and his body started to fall backwards.

Searing, white hot pain exploded in Tony’s back and abdomen the second he hit the ground. He landed on his back, black dots dancing across his vision as he nearly passed out from the severe agony. Distantly he heard the cracking of bones as the other man likely fell on his head and died on impact, but that was the least of his problems as he lifted his head to see what was causing the pain.

“Fuck.” Tony wheezed when he saw the metal rebar poking out from his stomach. “Oh, shit.”

Every movement was filled with pain as Tony weakly raised his hands to the wound. There was blood everywhere.

Peter.

Tony looked up in desperate search for the kid. Peter was still on the balcony staring down at him with wide, terrified eyes.

There was two loud thuds on the doors in front of Tony that seemed to break Peter out of his panic.

There were more of them coming. Fast.

Tony wouldn’t be able to protect himself let alone Peter.

“Peter!” Tony coughed out a yell. “Run!”

“No fucking way!”

Peter looked at the ground, then Tony, then back at the ground. More stars danced across Tony’s vision but he kept his gaze locked on the kid who was obviously terrified of making the jump down to the lower floor. It was too far, definitely too far for Peter, even too far for Tony.

For a moment Tony’s vision blurred, his head spinning as he laid there on the ground. When his vision cleared, Peter was halfway off the balcony clinging onto the thick generator cords. He couldn’t even react when Peter slipped and fell the rest of the way, his small body landing on the ground with a heavy thud.

That didn’t seem to stop the kid, however. Peter was by his side in an instant, eyes wide with terror.

“What do I do?!” Peter cried out, hands hovering around the metal rebar. Tony could hear Peter wheezing painfully. “F-fuck!”

“Behind you.” Tony coughed as the door slammed again. “Run, Peter. Please.”

“No.” Peter pointed the gun at the doors. Tony was just able to see his hands trembling. “There’s no fucking way I’m leaving you.”

Before Tony could yell at Peter the doors slammed open and two men stumbled into the room. Tony’s vision blurred again, the world temporary black and blinded with pain as gunshots echoed around him. Fear captured his heart as he struggled to regain consciousness, terrified that when he opened his eyes he would see Peter dead next to him.

When his eyes finally opened, Peter was still above him, the kid’s hand wrapped around his. His eyes were wide and filled with terror, some blood splattered across his cheek. His chest was still heaving desperately but Peter didn’t even seem to be processing the incoming asthma attack.

“Peter…” Tony groaned as he lifted his torso painfully off the ground. “Pull.”

“W-what?”

“Pull.”

With Peter’s support Tony just barely managed to lift himself off the rebar. It took everything in him not to scream as he hunched over on all fours, blood pouring from both his stomach and his back. Pained and uncontrollable tears leaked down his cheeks as he took a few deep breaths in an attempt to get himself together.

He’d never been hurt this severely before. Sure, he’s had his incidents, but nothing ever like this. No injury had rendered him so useless.

As quickly as his body allowed Tony got himself to his feet. He couldn’t stand straight, nor could he hold a weapon. All he could do was hold his hand over the gushing wound and survey the scene around him.

Peter had evidently shot and killed the two men that broke through the door. Their bodies lay on the ground, motionless, blood leaking underneath both of them. Next to Tony was the man that attacked him on the balcony, also dead, his limbs bent in unnatural directions.

Fuck, Peter shouldn’t have had to do that.

“Can you make it?” Peter asked, his doe brown eyes peering up at him desperately. “Tony?!”

“Yes.”

Deep down, however, he didn’t think he would make it to the horse.

Peter didn’t need to know that.

“Let’s go.” Peter moved ahead of him, pistol raised in front of him. “I don’t see anyone.”

They weaved their way through more classrooms, Tony barely able to bite back a scream as he dragged himself painfully over a windowsill and fell in a heap on the other side. The pain was immobilising to the point where he couldn’t get to his feet on his own anymore.

“I’m okay.” Tony almost growled as Peter dragged him to his feet by the arm. “I’m- I’m fine.”

“You’re not okay Tony!” Peter snapped at him, eyebrows furrowed with a mix of anger and terror. He continued ahead as Tony supported himself with the science workbenches, knees starting to shake beneath him as his vision swam. It felt like he was back on that sixty-foot yacht with his wife. “Now come on. We have to hurry incase there’s more of them.”

Tony followed Peter into another hallway that felt endless.

“You’re doing great, Mr. Stark.” Peter encouraged as they moved towards open double doors at the end of the hall. “You’re just like Iron Man, you got this, right?”

Tony couldn’t move his mouth to form words as his body listed to the side. He fell against an upturned vending machine, the throbbing pain spreading all over his body as he heaved in shaky breaths. There was blood all over him.

“Shit. Here, lean on me.” Peter said as he struggled to help Tony back to his feet. “There’s the exit. We’re almost there, Mr. Stark.”

Tony groaned but heaved his body along with Peter’s assistance. His vision blacked out again and his body fell away from Peter’s, painfully knocking into the railing of a staircase. When he regained vision for the slightest moment, he spotted movement at the top of the staircase.

“Behind… y-you.” Tony said desperately.

“What?!”

Tony crumbled to the floor as Peter turned to look at the two men headed for him.

When his vision left him for the umpteenth time he saw Morgan’s lifeless eyes staring at him, almost taunting him for his failure to save her.

Gunshots broke him out of the hallucination. He opened his eyes just as Peter was smashed across the face with a crowbar.

“N-no…” Tony begged desperately as the man move to hit Peter again. There was nothing he could do to stop him. Peter was going to die because of him just like everyone he loved did. “N-not Peter…”

Three bullets lodged themselves in the man’s body.

Peter got to his feet, blood pouring from his forehead as he moved to help Tony up.

“I got them.” Peter said as he pulled Tony back to his feet, seeming remarkably unbothered by the hit to the head. Adrenaline, most likely. “The exit is just a few more steps. Come on.”

The walk to the exit doors was a blur. Tony barely processed any of it as he shouldered through the doors and fell outside.

When he opened his eyes, Pepper and Morgan were stood in front of him, staring.

“I’m s-sorry.” Tony whispered as he laid there staring at his girl’s broken faces. “I’m…”

He blinked and they were gone.

Peter had Sandwich’s reins in his hands as he pulled the horse over to Tony.

“Come on, Mr. Stark. Get up!” Peter almost yelled at him as he pulled Tony back up. “Please, please don’t leave me. Please. Get on the horse!”

Tony could barley get his arms and legs to move, but somehow, he managed to climb onto the horse through the searing pain. Peter clambered on behind him, Tony unable to help like he usually would.

He could do nothing but urge Sandwich on.

He didn’t know how far they made it before his body started to really shut down. He started to feel numb all over, the stars in his eyes blinding him more and more as time passed. He could barely feel the blood that covered both his back and stomach.

This time, when Tony blacked out, he couldn’t get back up.

Distantly he felt the impact as his body fell from the horse and landed with a heavy thud on the ground.

He couldn’t even open his eyes anymore.

“Tony!”

Peter. He was trying to pull Tony up by the shoulders.

He wanted to get up, he wanted to reassure Peter that he was okay, but he could do nothing.

“You have to tell me what to do.” Peter cried out to him, hands desperately gripping at Tony’s jacket. “You gotta get up. Please, Mr. Stark. Get up!”

His body felt like water.

He couldn’t tell Peter he was sorry. He couldn’t reach out and hold the teen close and promise he would never leave him.

All he could do was lie there and lose himself to the pain.

“Tony, please!”

A moment later, the pain was gone and the world fell silent.

Chapter Text

WINTER

Peter had always known the world was bad.

All of the kids at FEDRA did, it had been drilled into their skulls every day of their lives. Even then, they hadn’t told them about the clickers or the bloaters. His training barely prepared him for what the outside world was really like, the only useful thing he was able to recall being some of the first aid he was taught at that fucking school.

None of it had prepared him for Ned.

Peter let out a sigh and shivered, the cold air biting his skin even though he was surrounded by four walls. He put down his notebook beside Tony and stared at the man’s face for a moment.

Then, he turned back to his notebook, his latest drawing of Iron Man filling the page. He’d drawn so many to the point he was starting to run out of pages in the notebook Tony had gifted him. Drawing and sketching were the only things that kept him sane in the nights that he spent in silence.

Peter shivered again and shuffled closer to Tony. Dread always filled his stomach when he had to leave, but without food, they would both die.

“I’m just gonna be right back, okay, Mr. Stark?” Peter tucked the blanket tighter around Tony’s body. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

The man groaned a little, eyebrows furrowing and lips moving without producing any words. Tears threatened to leak from Peter’s eyes but he shoved it down and steeled himself the same way he had been since he found this place.

It was an abandoned house in decent condition, free of both infected and living people. There was no one around for miles, no one that Peter could see at least, and they hadn’t been bothered in the days they’ve resided here. He kept Sandwich in the garage, safe from both the weather and the possibility of being found by other people. He had managed to drag Tony into the basement, the man currently laid across an old yellowing mattress Peter had found upstairs.

“I’m going to try get us some food.” Peter let his hand rest on Tony’s chest for a moment, comforted by the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. At least Tony was still breathing and alive. “I’ll be safe.”

Tony groaned again but didn’t wake up. He’d woken up only a few times and none of those times had he been fully there or coherent enough to hold a conversation with Peter. At most, the man had looked at him with distant eyes and squeezed his hand tight for a moment before he drifted back into unconsciousness.

That action alone had been enough to keep Peter’s hopes up.

He didn’t know what he would do if Tony died.

“Stay right here.” He said as he picked up the bow and arrows he’d found on his journey to finding the house. He grabbed his backpack and slung over his shoulders, stomach turning at the sight of Tony. He looked so weak, so vulnerable. Neither of which were Tony. “I know you can’t really go anywhere, but…”

Nothing.

Most of the time Peter just talked to him in the hopes the man would respond or squeeze his hand again.

He couldn’t end up by himself again.

He wouldn’t.

Tony would survive.

Peter had managed to stitch up Tony’s wound with the little supplies he found in an abandoned doctor’s office. He’d stitched up both sides just two days ago yet Tony’s condition hadn’t improved at all.

They needed food and medicine, and while food was something he could find, Peter wasn’t sure how he was supposed to get any medicine. The doctor’s office had been fully looted and most of the stuff would have been outdated anyways. He’d found a stroke of luck with the first aid kit that still had some supplies left behind.

“Please don’t die on me.” Peter whispered as he made sure for the umpteenth time that the blanket was tucked in tight. The weather was cold and biting and would do nothing good for Tony’s health if he was exposed to it. It was bad enough inside the house, let alone outside. Even in the basement it was freezing. “I need you, Mr. Stark.”

Still nothing, as Peter expected.

“Fuck.” Peter slumped, his forehead rested against Tony’s shoulder as tears threatened to fall once again. “How am I supposed to do this by myself?”

He stayed there for a few seconds before he took in a deep breath and sat up. With one last glance at Tony, Peter got to his feet with his bow in hand and turned on his heel to leave the room without looking back.

Tony would be fine. He was hidden, he was safe.

Peter made his way up into the connecting garage and lifted the roller door. Freezing air bit at Peter’s face as snow drifted into the garage, his entire body shivering as he led Sandwich outside. Once he was sure the garage door was closed tight behind him, Peter scrambled up onto the horse and headed out in search for any animals he could shoot for food.

Without Tony there to help him Peter had to force himself to get over his irrational fears. He had gotten used to mounting and dismounting Sandwich now even though the height between the ground still reminded him of Ned each time. The fall from the scaffolding, the screech of the infected as it leapt onto Peter and sunk its teeth into him.

Peter shook away the memories and rode deeper into the forest. The surroundings were quiet, almost serene, and Peter would’ve taken comfort in it if Tony wasn’t in the condition he was.

Without the infected around he only had humans to worry about, and even then Peter still expected a runner to emerge of of the snow and attack him. His nightmares were riddled with similar scenarios, most of them plagued with the face of his best friend along with Tony. In most of the dreams Peter couldn’t save either of them.

Once Peter reached his usual spot for hunting, he clambered off of Sandwich and tied him to a nearby tree. The horse neighed quietly and nudged Peter’s shoulder with his snout, his eyes sad. Peter frowned and pet the horse a few times, suddenly feeling horrible for leaving.

“I’ll be right back.” Peter echoed the same words he’d said to Tony as he stroked Sandwich’s snout. “You’ll scare off the animals. I promise I’ll come back.”

The horse nudged him again. Peter regretfully stepped away and moved deeper into the forest, his shoes crunching through the snow as his eyes surveyed the area. It didn’t take long for him to spot a small rabbit hopping through the snow.

Peter didn’t like killing rabbits. They were so small and so innocent but he had no choice.

With practiced aim, Peter aimed his bow at the rabbit and fired. The arrow pierced through the rabbit’s flesh, the animal dead instantly as it was pinned against the snow. Peter felt sick, just like he did every time, but he made his way over to the rabbit regardless and removed the arrow from its body. The bright red blood against the snow was jarring to look at.

Just as Peter was about to hook the rabbit to his backpack, he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye.

Immediately alert, Peter dropped the rabbit and drew back an arrow.

It wasn’t an infected or another person.

It was a deer.

A big deer, at that.

Peter’s eyes widened at the opportunity that was presented in front of him.

That deer would be enough food for days if he could manage it. Peter steadied his breathing and aimed at the deer who was still blissfully unaware of his presence. As he fired, his stomach churned with guilt, but he shoved it down as the arrow lodged itself in the deer’s hide. The animal screeched in pain and took off into the forest, more blood splattering onto the white snow. Peter immediately took off in a run, the snow difficult to navigate as he followed the blood trail.

A few minutes later he spotted the deer in another clearing that overlooked another abandoned town. Peter had steered clear of it out of the fear that both infected and other people could be lingering within the broken wooden buildings. But now, as he fired a second arrow at the deer that hit its target, he couldn’t let this chance of food slip as the deer took off down the slope in the direction of the town. The arrow had pierced the animal’s neck.

Peter ignored the nausea in his gut and followed the much larger blood trail, almost tripping several times in the thick snow that concealed hazards beneath it. He dodged the sticks and logs that he could see as he clambered down the slope as fast as he could. He’d lost sight of the deer but the blood trail continued through one of the broken buildings.

He almost forgot about the amount of noise he was making as he stumbled into the building. Well, it was barely a building. The roof and most of the walls were missing, the front doorway the only thing that was properly standing. The blood trailed continued through it, Peter not hesitating to follow.

Finally, after what felt like hours of running, Peter spotted the deer motionless in the snow ahead of him beside another building.

Peter came to a halt in front of it, eyes wide as he stared down at his prize.

How was he supposed to bring this back to Tony? He’d left Sandwich behind, he only had his bow and arrow… maybe if he could find some rope he could drag it back up the slope? If he went back to get Sandwich, he could tie the ropes to his saddle and drag it back home that way. Though, if he left it behind, an infected or another human might get to it before he came back.

The longer he thought about his options the more anxious he became.

Maybe he should have just stuck to the rabbit. Tony was relying on him right now, he didn’t have the time to stand around thinking.

Before Peter could come up with a proper solution, a twig snapped ahead of him.

Peter immediately drew an arrow, body tense as he stared in the direction he’d heard the noise.

“Who’s there?”

For a moment he thought he might’ve just been insane and paranoid.

“Come out, now!”

Horror and dread filled him when two men stepped out from behind the building with their hands raised in surrender. Peter drew the arrow tighter as he aimed it at them, his breath caught in his throat as he watched them move hesitantly towards him.

“Hello there.” One of them said, his hands still raised in a placating gesture. “We just want to talk.”

“Any sudden moves and I put one right between your eyes.” Peter growled, hoping his tone would cover up most of the fear he was feeling. He shouldn’t have followed the deer down here, he knew the abandoned town could be dangerous. “Ditto for your buddy over there. What do you want?”

The man smiled slightly at him, eyes betraying no real emotion at Peter’s threat.

“My name’s Skip. My buddy here is Otto.” The man who had done all the talking, Skip, gestured to his companion. They both looked well-dressed and well-fed which had to mean there was more of them out there. Peter should have never followed the deer here, what was he thinking? “We’re from a larger group. We have women, children. We’re all very, very hungry.”

“So am I.” Peter bit back, his lie mostly out of fear. No one could know where Tony was or the vulnerable state he was in. “Women, children. We’re all very hungry too.”

Skip paused for a moment and glanced at Otto with an unreadable expression on his face. Then, he turned back to Peter with that same unrecognisable look in his eye. There was no way to gauge these people’s intentions which only served to make Peter more cautious.

“Well, maybe we could trade you for some of that meat there?” Skip gestured to the dead deer now. Peter glanced at the animal, its lifeless eyes staring at nothing. Guilt clawed at his stomach for a moment but he shoved it down and immediately locked his gaze back on the unfamiliar men. “What do you need? Weapons, ammo, clothes? Anything you want.”

Peter’s entire body jolted when he realised what he could get from them.

“Medicine!” Peter snapped desperately. “I- I need medicine. Do you have any antibiotics?”

“We do, back at our camp.” Skip started to take a step closer to Peter. “If you follow us-”

Everything within him screamed that this was wrong. Peter drew his arrow impossibly tighter and took a step back Skip and Otto, eyebrows furrowed in anger and distrust.

“I’m not following you anywhere!” He almost yelled. “Your- your buddy can go and get it. He comes back with what I need, the deers all yours. If anyone else shows up-”

“You’ll put one right between my eyes.”

Peter’s stomach turned at the look on Skip’s face. The man had stepped back a few steps as well, hands still raised, though Peter wasn’t sure what to make of him. Skip was the only one who held a visible weapon, a hunting rifle hooked over his left shoulder. A rifle he could use at any moment to shoot Peter with if he wasn’t quick enough to react.

“Yeah.” Peter muttered and bit down painfully on his lower lip. “That’s right.”

Skip turned to Otto again, the two appearing to have a silent conversation.

“Alright. Get the boy two bottles of penicillin and a syringe. Go on, be quick.”

Otto sent Peter a wary glance before he nodded and took off. Skip turned back to Peter, one hand wrapped around the strap of the rifle.

“I’ll take that rifle.” Peter gestured to the weapon. “Now!”

“Of course.”

Peter, ready to fire at any moment, watched carefully as Skip removed the rifle from his shoulder and held it by the strap. The man dropped it into the snow and stepped away from Peter, hands still raised. Quickly, Peter lowered his bow and hooked it onto his backpack, trading it for the hunting rifle. He checked if it was properly loaded before he aimed it at Skip, not willing to take any chances.

The silence was tense and awkward for a few minutes, the deer on the ground between them an unspoken promise.

“Uh, he’s probably going to be a while.” Skip laughed awkwardly, evidently trying to lighten the mood. “Mind if we take some shelter from the cold?”

“Okay…” Peter trailed as he glanced at the deer. “Bring him with us.”

Without any complaints, Skip dragged the deer by the horns into the closest building available. Peter kept the rifle trained on him at all times, not willing to lower it for even a second as he watched the stranger light a small fire in the middle of the room with a lighter he produced from his pocket. Peter sat across from him, tense, worry for Tony flowing through him as they waited for Otto to return.

“You know, kid.” Skip began as he poked at the fire with a stick. “You really shouldn’t be out here all on your own. The woods are dangerous for a little boy like you.”

Peter’s stomach rolled with uncertainty.

“I don’t like company.”

“Ah, I see.” Skip poked at the fire again and eyed Peter curiously for a moment. “What’s your name?”

“Why?”

“Look, I understand it’s not easy to trust a couple of strangers in the middle of nowhere.” Skip made direct eye contact with him then. For the first time there was a real emotion in them. Empathy. Still, Peter wasn’t sure if he could trust this stranger he’d met only ten minutes ago. “Whoever’s hurt, you clearly care a lot about them. I’m sure it’s going to be just fine.”

Peter frowned and broke the eye contact for a moment. He thought of Tony, alone in that house with only the blanket and that yellow mattress for comfort. Even if the man didn’t really know it, he was relying solely on Peter to keep him alive. If he didn’t get this medicine…

He didn’t want to think about it.

“Yeah.” Peter replied. “We’ll see.”

“Do you know how to use the medicine?” Skip asked. “It must be difficult for a young boy like you to survive in a world like this.”

“I know how.” Peter didn’t look at Skip as he spoke. “I don’t need any fucking help.”

Skip chuckled and raised his hands in surrender once again.

Before Skip could say anything, however, he was cut off by the sudden screech of an infected.

Peter jumped from the sound, his finger hovering over the trigger as he quickly clambered to stand up. Within seconds a clicker ran through the doorway and stumbled in their direction, its head swinging around rapidly as it clicked and snarled. Its head was completely engulfed by infection, blind like all clickers were. It was on the taller side, far too big for Peter to tackle alone.

If Tony was here, he would have taken care of it in an instant.

The clicker must have been attracted to them by their voices. Internally he kicked himself for being so stupid for sticking around.

Peter took a hesitant step back from the monster, his rifle only half raised. As he stepped back his foot knocked against the deer’s antler, the small sound just enough to trigger the clicker. Panic paralysed him as the clicker hurtled towards him in a mess of flailing arms and loud, screeching snarls. There wasn’t enough time to raise the rifle and shoot, Peter only able to just stand there as the infected closed in on him.

Three gunshots suddenly deafened him, the clicker listing to the side as the bullets pierced its flesh. Within seconds it was dead on the floor, Peter’s eyes wide with horror when Skip lowered his pistol.

“You had another gun?”

Skip could have pulled out that gun and shot Peter at any moment. Suddenly, it felt like he had no power over the man at all.

More infected could be heard screeching in the distance, definitely attracted by the gunshots. Internally Peter cursed as fear flowed through him, the terror that this stranger was still armed almost enough to make him flee. However, Tony needed that medicine more than anything and there was no time to run away now.

“Sorry.” Skip didn’t sound sorry at all as he looked worriedly towards the opening. “I’d really like my rifle back now.”

“No fucking way!” For the briefest moments Peter spotted a flash of anger flicker through Skip’s expression. “You have your pistol.”

Skip stared at him for a long few seconds, the infected getting closer and closer.

“Then I hope you know how to use that thing.”

Peter scoffed and turned away from the man.

For now he would have to trust that Skip wouldn’t turn around and shoot his brains out.

He aimed the rifle at the open door, the infected now barely visible in the distance clambering through the thick snow. They were approaching quickly, far too quickly for either of them to make a quick escape. Tony’s wellbeing remained in the forefront of his mind as his finger hovered over the trigger ready to fire the second the infected were too close for comfort.

Before he could do anything, Skip slammed the door shut and hurriedly covered the deer with an old tarp.

“You cover the windows. Let’s hope they don’t find our meal.”

Peter grunted in response and turned to his left. A body slammed against the closed door, manic screeches hurting Peter’s ears as he spotted another two headed in their direction. Within seconds the infected were clambering over the windowsills, blood and infection coating the surface as Peter fired his first shot into one of the infected’s skull. The kickback from the rifle almost had Peter on the floor, his ears pounding as the clicker slumped on the floor with a heavy thud.

The second only became more irritated as it stumbled over the windowsill and over the body on the floor. This infected was more a runner than a clicker, though it was well on its way to becoming a clicker, or maybe a stalker. Behind him, Skip fired at the other infected on the other side with three quick gunshots.

Peter fired again, barely managing to stay on his feet as the bullet lodged itself in the infected’s shoulder. The infected stumbled and tripped over the body, giving Peter enough time to rush over and deliver the final blow to its head the same way he’d seen Tony do.

Before he could relish in the relief, something slammed into him from behind and knocked the rifle from his hands. He yelled in both pain and surprise as he stumbled forwards, the harsh screeching of the infected now right in his ear. However, after two shots from Skip, the runner slumped behind him and fell completely silent.

“Holy fuck.” Peter heaved, his breaths starting to shorten as exertion started to settle in. “Holy fuck.”

“Keep it together, kid!” Skip yelled as he pushed an old cabinet in front of the windows beside the door. He quickly fired another shot as Peter picked up the rifle and steeled himself. There was no way he could let this man know that he suffered with asthma. “This is a big pack, they must’ve followed you.”

“Or maybe they followed you and your friend.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter, we’re stuck in this together.”

Peter needed to get away from this man.

The infected continued to stream towards the building in overwhelming numbers. With the noise they were making everyone and everything in the nearby radius would be able to find them. Peter continued to fire as many rifle rounds as he could, the panic really starting to set in when the flow of infected never seemed to stop.

“Fuck, there’s too many of them!” Skip yelled as he made his way over to the back of the small room. There was another door, this one barricaded off with a few weak and rotted wooden planks. It took one forceful kick from Skip to break the planks, the door swinging open to reveal the rest of the building. “Come on, kid! This way!”

Seeing no other choice, Peter took a shuddering breath and ran after Skip.

The infected followed close behind as they headed up a flight of stairs. Skip fired shots over Peter’s head, though they didn’t seem to be doing much to the clickers. Once Peter reached the top of the stairs Skip grabbed him around the shoulders and pulled him the rest of the way up.

Despite the chaos around him, discomfort lodged itself in Peter’s gut when Skip’s touch lingered too long on his shoulder and lower back.

It wasn’t like Tony’s touch, Skip was nothing like Tony.

“Cover the stairs!” Skip yelled as he started to push a desk in front of the opening. “Alright, good work kid. Follow me, through here!”

Peter did as he was told because there was no other choice. He followed Skip into another part of the building that was filled with all kinds of machinery. Peter wasn’t exactly sure what this place was supposed to be in the old world but there was no time to dwell on it as Skip slammed the doors behind them.

“Have you been here before?” Peter asked as he tried his hardest not to let his throat close in.

“No. We’ve never set foot in this place.”

“Fantastic!” Peter heaved. “That’s fucking great.”

Skip looked at him for a moment as they made their way around the machinery and up a flight of stairs. Some of the urgency had faded, though the infected continued to throw themselves against the doors on the lower level. Peter suspected it wouldn’t be long before they gave way.

They were now above the equipment on rusted metal walkways, Peter’s heart jolting when he looked down. Ned’s face flashed through his mind for the briefest of seconds, along with the sounds of the infected from that night.

“You doing alright there?” Skip asked, though he seemed more curious than worried. It made the hairs on the back of Peter’s neck stand up. “It sounds like you’re having some trouble breathing.”

“I’m fine.” Peter replied as he followed Skip along the pathway. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“A kid all alone in the middle of nowhere looking for medicine?” Skip scoffed a little. “Yeah, sure I don’t need to be worried.”

Peter elected to stay silent.

There was something off about this guy but he couldn’t place what exactly it was.

Before Peter could properly think about it, the metal grate beneath him started to give way.

For a split second Peter was back on that scaffolding in the mall.

Just like it had in the mall, Peter’s body fell back down to the lower level with a heavy thud. Instantly he was winded, his back aching as he struggled to sit up.

He couldn’t imagine the pain Tony had felt when he fell onto that piece of metal.

Skip stared at him from the pathway above, mouth slightly agape

“You alright?”

“Yeah…” Peter coughed, already reaching for his backpack. He needed his inhaler. “I’m f-fine!”

As Peter pulled out the inhaler from his backpack there was a loud crash from the other side of the room. The doors must have finally given way. Loud screeches and footsteps echoed around the building as Peter hurriedly took a few puffs of his inhaler, Skip’s wide but curious eyes staring down at him as he struggled to get to his feet.

“The infected are coming!” Skip eventually yelled out. “Run!”

Peter did just that.

The next period of time was a blur. Peter continuously ducked behind cover as the infected streamed into the building, Skip already running from a clicker that had managed to reach him on the suspended pathway. Peter managed to dodge most of the infected as he weaved his way around several pieces of machinery and debris, trying to remember what Tony would do if he was in this situation. He wasn’t sure if the tears in his eyes were caused by the sickening smell of infected or the fact that Tony wasn’t here by his side.

Finally Peter reached his escape. Skip had a ladder suspended down for him, the man frantically gesturing for Peter to climb. Just like the staircase, Skip hauled Peter up the rest of the way and dragged him to his feet. The pair ran for their lives, more infected from other parts of the building becoming attracted by the noise. They ran over a large wooden bridge suspended between the two buildings that looked like it was seconds away from collapsing until they reached a dead end.

“Fuck.” Skip swore as they both skidded to a halt. “I’ve been looking for those guys.”

Scattered around the room was three decaying bodies. One was leant up against the wall, pistol still in hand, large gashes and bite marks all over his skin. The other two bodies were in the same condition, Peter’s stomach turning at the sight of them. The two laid on the floor had clearly been mauled to death by the infected while the other had most likely committed suicide before he turned.

“It doesn’t matter.” Skip shook his head and turned away from the bodies. “Take their gear. This place is a dead-end, fuck, how did they ever use this place? We need to hold our ground.”

“Is there any other choice?” Peter asked nervously as he listened to the infected get closer.

“Well, we die.” Skip rifled through his pockets and offered something to him. “For the rifle.”

“Right.” Peter took the ammo and tried his best to put it in the rifle. “Thanks.”

“Get ready.”

It wasn’t long before the infected made their way to them. Three entered from the bridge, along with two others that smashed through one of the glass windows. Peter instantly shot at the ones closest to him, heart roaring in his ears as he tried his best to keep himself composed. Skip fought the other three by the hallway exit, almost effortlessly shooting one in the head while he stabbed the other in the chest.

Peter continued to shoot the infected that streamed in through the windows until he ran out of ammo. He switched to his bow and arrow once the rifle was empty and fired as quickly as he could, his shaky hands causing a few of his arrows to miss their targets. Thankfully, after a few minutes of intense fighting he felt would never end, the flow of infected stopped and the world finally fell quiet.

“You know what, kid?” Skip heaved as he made his way back out onto the bridge. Peter followed, his breaths wheezy as he stopped beside Skip at one of the windows. “You hear that?”

“What?”

“No infected.”

Skip was right. There was nothing.

“Yeah.” Peter wheezed. “No i-infected.”

Unable to hold it back anymore, Peter grabbed his inhaler and took in another deep puff. Skip looked at him this time, eyes full of curiosity as he watched Peter inhale the medicine. That uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach once again as Skip’s eyes roved over his face for a few seconds.

“Asthmatic, huh?” The man eventually said. “That must be difficult.”

“It’s fine.” Peter shrugged, shoulders tense.

“How do the people you travel with deal with that?”

Peter immediately became defensive. Whatever calm he’d felt in the wake of their fight with the infected dissipated as he side-eyed Skip.

“They deal with it just fine.”

Skip hummed and nodded, his arms crossed over his chest. Peter felt like he was being dissected by the man’s intense stare.

“How do you get your medicine?”

“Why?” Peter snapped. “How do you?”

Skip huffed a small laugh at that but didn’t reply. He reached out and rested his hand on Peter’s shoulder and squeezed, the action almost nauseating. When Tony squeezed his shoulder it was comforting, comforting like a father’s touch. When Skip did it, it felt… wrong. Uncomfortable, like there was an ulterior motive beneath the friendly exterior the man presented to him.

“Let’s head on back, check on that buck of ours.”

Without another word, Skip removed his hand from Peter’s shoulder and headed back the way they came.

Peter didn’t have any other choice but to follow.

The medicine was all that mattered.

-

The deer, thankfully, was still where they left it hidden beneath the tarp.

“Well, kid.” Skip breathed out as he knelt down and rekindled the fire he’d lit earlier. “I’d say you handled yourself pretty well back there. I’d even say we made a pretty good team, don’t you think?”

“Nah.” Peter hesitantly knelt down beside Skip and attempted to warm up his freezing hands. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, how cold he really was had started to make itself known. He needed to get back to Tony soon. “We just got lucky.”

“No, no. There’s no such thing as luck. I believe everything happens for a reason.” When Peter rolled his eyes, Skip chuckled lightly in a way that made Peter’s stomach turn. “I do, and I can prove it to you. You’re a smart boy, you know. Your name Einstein?”

Peter just stared at Skip, slightly baffled but more uncomfortable by the way his tone was starting to shift.

“You see, this winter has been cruel. A few weeks back I sent a group of men out to a nearby town for food. Only a few came back, most of them seriously injured.” Anxiety suddenly clasped Peter’s heart in a vice. He stared at Skip, his eyes giving away nothing as he stared directly into Peter’s soul. “They said the others had been slaughtered by a crazy man. Sounds barbaric, doesn’t it? One man was enough to take out so many of my men?”

Fuck.

The university.

Those were Skip’s men that had tried to kill Tony and Peter.

Skip’s, this stranger’s, men had tried to take Tony away from him.

It was their fault he was in that fucking house on the brink of death.

“Get this.” Skip poked at the fire before Peter could come up with something to say. “They said they were slaughtered by a crazy man… travelling with a little boy. A little boy with a description that sounds a lot like you.”

Immediately Peter scrambled to his feet and yanked the rifle out of Skip’s reach. He aimed it at the man, his heart pounding with panic as Skip chuckled wryly. His eyes betrayed nothing, Peter completely unsure about the mans intentions as he too got to his feet and gave Peter a long, almost blank, stare. Somehow the lack of emotion was more terrifying that any emotion at all.

He didn’t even looked threatened by the rifle pointed at his head. In fact, Skip had never looked threatened by Peter once.

He’d known the whole time.

Peter wanted to vomit.

“Now, now. Don’t go getting too upset.” Skip didn’t even attempt to get the weapon off him. Peter couldn’t forget that Skip was still armed with that pistol hidden away in his jean pocket. “It’s not your fault. You’re just a kid. A smart one, like I said, but you’re still just a little boy. How could you possibly know?”

Peter couldn’t breathe.

He needed to get away from here.

“Just a little boy following the guidance of… who is that? Your father?”

Peter couldn’t find any words and Skip seemed to take that as a confirmation.

“Hm.” Skip tilted his head at Peter with that same look. He was actively reading everything he could off Peter’s face. “Your father the one who needs that medicine?”

Before Peter could do anything, Skip’s eyes focussed on something behind him. At the same time Peter heard a light footstep behind him.

“Otto, lower the gun.”

Peter whirled around, eyes wide. Otto stood behind him with his pistol raised, his face filled with fury and even a hint of grief. Peter couldn’t find it within himself to feel any pity for these people, not after they had just opened fire on Tony and Peter for no reason. Not after they’d caused Tony to fall off that fucking balcony and still shoot at them when they were trying to escape.

“No way, Steven.” Otto glared daggers at Peter. Peter saw his finger twitch on the trigger and flinched just slightly. “The little shit can’t get away w-”

“Otto.” Skip sighed. “Lower the gun. He’s only a child.”

Otto, after a moments hesitation, lowered the gun with a deep and disappointed sigh.

“Good. Now give him the medicine.”

The man almost growled as he tossed the pouch of medicine at Peter’s feet. Peter didn’t pick it up straight away, his head swivelling between Skip and Otto, torn on who to aim the rifle at. There was a catch, he knew it. There was no way they were going to let him go with their medicine without a catch.

“The others won’t be happy about this.” Otto snarled. “Especially if they knew-”

Skip cut him off almost instantly.

“Yeah, well, that’s not your concern is it?”

The pair once again had a silent conversation with their eyes. Peter finally bent down to snatch the pouch of medicine off the ground and tucked it into his jacket pocket, his finger immediately back on the trigger as he started to move in the direction of the open door. Both men were armed, they could shoot him at any moment if he didn’t hurry.

Peter forced his fear down and put up a front of anger.

He pointed the gun at Otto and gestured for him to move.

“Move the fuck out of the way.”

Otto rolled his eyes, though he stepped out of the way and didn’t raise his pistol again. Peter immediately headed for the door, walking out with his back to the snow as he continued to aim the rifle at Skip and Otto. The pair watched him go, Otto’s eyes filled with hate, while Skip’s was filled with something Peter couldn’t quite decipher.

Skip tilted his had to the side slightly once again, eyes roving over Peter’s body.

“You won’t survive long out there.” The man said after a moment. He knelt back down to poke at the small fire. “I can protect you.”

Peter scoffed, and this time, his anger wasn’t fake.

“No thanks.”

Without another word, Peter turned on his heel and ran.

It was a difficult trip back up the snowy slope he’d previously descended but his newfound urgency blocked out the pain. Peter ignored his quickly tightening lungs as he ran all the way back to Sandwich, who thankfully stood where he had left him tied to the tree. The horse neighed quietly at the sight of Peter but there was no time to give him a pet or anything of the sort.

Peter untied Sandwich and climbed onto the horse quicker than he ever had before. Worried that he was being followed, he urged Sandwich on without looking behind him. Hopefully falling snow would be able to cover his tracks incase the men tried to follow him.

Fuck, Tony had killed their people. Peter had killed their people.

Peter pushed all the thoughts away and focussed on what mattered.

Tony.

-

Tony was right where he left him, much to Peter’s relief.

The man was still breathing hoarsely, eyes closed and one hand rested on his chest. Tony must have moved a little because the blanket was slightly untucked, Peter’s heart breaking at the vulnerable state of the man he’d somehow grown so attached to.

“I’m back.” Peter breathed as he knelt down beside Tony and placed his hand on top of his. Like this, Tony didn’t have the hardened exterior he always seemed to present ever since they met. Peter had seen less of it in the recent weeks, especially after their fight in Jackson. “I got you some medicine. I… I didn’t find much food though. I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I did try.”

Tony groaned a little, but other than that, there was no response.

Peter forced the tears away and quickly grabbed the syringe out of the pouch along with the penicillin. He tried to remember the FEDRA training the best he could as he prepped the needle and gently pulled back Tony’s blanket to reveal the wound. The wound looked nasty but better than it had than before Peter stitched it up.

He wanted to get it done quickly so the cold air didn’t bother Tony too much.

“Okay, Mr. Stark.” Peter said as he checked the needle. “Here we go.”

Tony hissed in pain when Peter injected the medicine, his face scrunching up as Peter pushed the syringe down.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered guilty as he injected the correct amount into Tony. “You’re going to be okay.”

Tony groaned, his lips moving but no words were being formed. Peter quickly put the syringe away and covered the wound with Tony’s shirt and then the blanket. Then, he laid down beside the man, worriedly looking at the side of his head. A single tear had slipped down Tony’s cheek when Peter injected the needle, tears of his own welling in his eyes as he struggled to figure out what he was supposed to do now.

What if the medicine didn’t work?

What if Skip had set him up because of what they’d done to their people at the university?

“I ran into some guys.” Peter whispered as he tucked himself closer to Tony’s side. “They were with the people who attacked us at the university. I got away but… I’m scared, Tony. What if they track me?”

Tony, as Peter expected, didn’t respond.

Peter raised a hand and placed it on Tony’s forehead. Warm, but not too hot.

“You’re going to be okay.” Peter echoed his earlier words and rested his head on Tony’s shoulder “You will, okay?”

No response.

“You’re Iron Man, dude.” Peter laughed tearfully to himself as he curled up tighter, still shivering from the cold. “You’re gonna be fine.”

Nothing.

Peter curled up tighter and squeezed his eyes shut.

Exhausted by the days events, it didn’t take long for unconsciousness to swallow him whole.

-

Peter was jolted awake by the sound of voices.

For a moment, he didn’t move. The cold made his muscles feel painful to manoeuvre, but as his brain woke up and the voices continued to get closer, immediate alarm jolted him into consciousness. Peter shot up and looked at Tony first, thankful to see the man still asleep beside him. He looked uncomfortable but slightly better after the medicine Peter had given him.

Next Peter scrambled to his feet and hopped onto the only piece of furniture in the basement. The desk creaked dangerously beneath his weight but Peter barely noticed as he pulled back the curtain and peeked through the only window the basement had.

There was a group of men outside, all well dressed and well fed just like Skip searching the surrounding buildings. It felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs as he pulled the curtain back over the window and jumped back onto the floor.

“They fucking tracked me.” Peter whispered, horrified. “Shit, fuck, what do I do?”

Tony was in no state to move anywhere and there was no way Peter could drag him up the stairs before they would be found.

There was only one option.

If Peter didn’t distract the men outside they would find Tony. If they found Tony, the man that had killed a lot of their people, there was no doubt that they would kill him on the spot.

Peter couldn’t fathom the thought of losing anybody else.

He hurried over to his friend and knelt by his side.

“Tony?” Peter gently shook Tony’s shoulder. The man groaned, his eyes slightly opened but they looked unfocussed. Already Tony seemed to be in a much better condition than last night. “I’m… I’m gonna draw them away from here, okay? I’ll come back for you.”

The last thing Peter wanted to do was leave Tony’s side but there was no other choice. He grabbed his backpack, Tony’s pistol and the bow and arrows and glanced at Tony one last time. The voices outside were getting closer to their hideout and there was no chance that Peter was letting them find Tony. He hurried up the stairs and into the garage, pained by the soft neigh of greeting that came from Sandwich.

“I’m sorry buddy.” Peter quickly stroked Sandwich’s snout. “Be quiet, okay? I don’t want them to find us.”

The horse’s eyes were always so sad. Peter’s heart broke as he slowly lifted the garage door and led Sandwich out. He closed it as quietly as he could, his body filled with adrenaline as he climbed up onto Sandwich and urged him to move. They made their way around another house and past the three men on the right of him walking up the street, thankfully well out of their view and earshot. If he was lucky he would make it by them unscathed before he caused a distraction.

Their conversation made its way to Peter’s ears as he crept past them.

“Are you sure he’s here?”

“Yeah, there’s fucking horse tracks on the road. He’s here.”

“Let’s keep moving buddy.” Peter whispered and gently urged Sandwich on. “We just have t-”

Peter was suddenly grabbed from his left side. The horse bucked as Peter yelled and struggled to fight the strong hold off of him while also searching for his knife at the same time. He managed to grab it out of his pocket and flick it open in record speed, not hesitating to thrust it into the man’s chest. He felt sick as he did it but there was no other choice if he wanted to survive.

Now that Peter’s location was exposed there was no choice but to force Sandwich to run. It wasn’t the kind of distraction he wanted but it was the only way to get them away from Tony.

Yells and gunshots broke out as Peter tore down the street, overwhelmed by the amount of people that Skip had sent out searching for him.

“Shoot him!”

“But Skip said-”

“I don’t care what Skip said, shoot him!”

Bullets whizzed past his ear as he headed down the street as fast as the horse would allow. There were men everywhere, some emerging from the houses, others already on the street with their weapons raised in Peter’s direction. Sandwich screeched out in pain as one of the bullets hit him, tears building in Peter’s eyes as the panic really started to set in.

As long as Tony was safe and the attention was all on Peter.

It wasn’t long before everything went wrong. A perfectly timed bullet hit Sandwich and the horse’s legs buckled, throwing Peter off and over a slope at the edge of the town. He tumbled down the hill and landed with a heavy thud at the bottom, his head spinning as he laid there in the freezing snow that soaked his clothes. There was another thud beside of him a second later, most likely Sandwich.

Tears leaked from Peter’s eyes as he struggled to sit up, his entire body quivering as he searched for his horse.

“No.” Peter scrambled over to Sandwich. “No, no…”

Sandwich lay in the snow, the area around him streaked red with blood. The horses eyes were empty, body unmoving. The bullet had fatally pierced his neck.

Peter, knowing he didn’t have much time before Skip’s men reached him, gently petted Sandwich on the snout one last time before he shakily got to his feet. He could hear more voices around him but had no idea where they were coming from.

He had to circle back around and get back to Tony undiscovered. Maybe he could force the man to wake up, to move.

Without Sandwich it would be near impossible.

Peter had no idea where he was. There were more buildings at the bottom of the hill, a resort of some sort, something like Peter had seen in magazines from before the apocalypse. He made his way through various cabins as the voices got closer and eventually reached a massive frozen lake. He used the jagged cliffside to make his way across, dread filling his body once again when he spotted movement at a large house that overlooked the lake.

Peter ducked behind cover when he spotted a woman up ahead with a large rifle similar to Skip’s.

They must’ve known he would head here.

He quickly wiped his freezing tears from his face and grabbed his bow and arrow. He aimed it at the woman, holding it for a second before he fired. Thankfully the arrow hit its target and pierced through the woman’s skull. She crumbled without a sound.

Peter pushed away the horrible feeling in his stomach as he pressed forward. There was another man further up on the other side of the house, Peter electing to ignore him as he climbed through a smashed window and entered the building. Hopefully it would be easier to make his way through the house under cover rather than outside where anybody could see him.

There were many more voices outside now as the men from earlier caught up with him. Peter kept himself hidden inside the building, crouched as he walked past the windows, his knife ready just in case someone found him.

A loud, sudden shout shout startled Peter.

“Fuck, Cassandra’s dead!”

“What?”

“You fucking heard me, Cass is dead! The kid’s here! Search the lodge!”

Panic choked him as he hurriedly picked up his pace. He could hear people entering the building from all angles, his chance of escaping becoming extremely low as he tried to find a way out. He never should have thought to come in here. Now he was trapped with the enemies who were all older and stronger than him and would be able to overpower him within a second.

All Peter had to his advantage was the element of surprise.

Peter made his way around what looked like a bar, carefully avoiding the smashed glass on the floor as he moved. A man was headed in his direction, gun raised as he crept down the hallway. Peter remained tucked under the bar, knife ready as the man walked past him. If Peter tried to move without killing or knocking him out, he would be spotted immediately.

Peter took a deep breath and switched his blade for his bow.

He lined up the shot and fired. Just like the woman, the man crumbled to the ground silently and didn’t get back up.

Peter used this as his opportunity to head for the back door of the building. Voices still echoed around him but the urgency started to overwhelm any of his rational thoughts. The door was blocked on the other side but Peter wasted no time in pushing on it as hard as he could. He strained, harsh breaths leaving his lips as he pushed. Finally, the obstruction fell over and freed the doors, but before he could even take a step outside someone grabbed him from behind.

Peter tried desperately to reach for his knife but his attacker grabbed his wrist and forced it back. He thrashed his body as hard as he could but the man was too strong.

He was trapped.

The man had one arm wrapped around his neck, stars starting to appear in Peter’s vision as he struggled.

“Relax, Einstein!” Peter thrashed even harder when he heard that voice, though consciousness was quickly leaving him. “I’m keeping you alive here!”

“P-please…” Peter whimpered as his body started to weaken. “D-don’t…”

“There you go.” Skip cooed as Peter started to black out. “You’re alright.”

Peter couldn’t move anymore.

He wanted Tony.

“Shh, shh…” Skip whispered in his ear. “That’s a good boy.”

That was the last thing Peter heard before the world went black.

-

Peter’s head was throbbing.

Confusion was the first emotion he registered as he tried to wake himself up, his entire body in pain as he struggled to move. He could hear something, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was through the fog in his brain. Peter painfully moved his arms to hold his pounding head, his body shivering ever so slightly as he fought to open his eyes.

For a few minutes he just laid there as the fog slowly dispersed and the pain lessened. Finally once some of the pain subsided he was able to open his eyes.

Peter stared up at the ceiling, his vision blurred as he fought away the nausea. He wracked his brain for memories of what had happened, though he found he couldn’t remember anything.

Slowly he started to sit up, eyes roving around the environment in an attempt to remember where he was.

The second his eyes landed on thick metal bars everything rushed back in an instant.

The ambush, Sandwich, Skip…

“That’s a good boy.”

The words echoed through Peter’s head as he scrambled to his feet and almost collapsed onto the metal bars when his knees threatened to give out on him. The bars were cold to touch but Peter barely registered the pain as he stared in horror at the sight in front of him.

The sound he’d been hearing was the sound of a saw. There was a man stood in front of the bench, hacking violently at something with a saw. On the ground beside him was…

Human hands.

Peter gasped in horror and stumbled away from the bars. The man who held the saw turned around and eyed him for a moment and then scoffed as if Peter was nothing but a nuisance.

It was Otto. The man stepped slightly to the side and revealed what was on the bench, the movement definitely intentional.

He wanted Peter to see.

For a moment Peter couldn’t look away from the gruesome sight in front of him, his body rigid with fear as he tried to process what he was seeing. It was a torso, its limbs completely severed off. Blood covered the bench, the floor, everything.

It was a human torso.

Peter couldn’t speak. He just watched as Otto turned on his heel and left the room without a word, leaving the torso exposed on the bench for Peter to see. Peter was finally able to tear his eyes away from the horrible sight and tried to ignore what it implied and pulled desperately on the gate that kept him trapped. He quickly discovered there was no use trying because the gate was chained and locked with a padlock.

He was really trapped.

Before he could think to search for another way out someone else entered the room.

It was Skip. The man had a smile on his face and a tray of food in his hand, his demeanour calm even though there was literally human body parts inside the room with him.

“Hey Einstein.” Peter hastily took a step away from the bars as Skip approached. “How are you feeling?”

Peter said nothing.

“Well, alright.” The way Skip looked at him made his stomach churn even more than it already was. “I can understand your silence. You must be quite cold.”

Skip bent down to push the tray of food underneath the gate. Peter stared at it, then at the torso on the bench and the hands on the ground. These people were fucking cannibals. No wonder they had tried to kill Tony and Peter on sight, they wanted more food.

“Here, you should eat. I know you’re hungry, you’ve been out for quite some time.”

Skip was right, Peter was hungry, but there was no chance he would touch whatever he had been given.

“What is it?”

Skip smiled at him as if it were a silly question.

“It’s deer.”

“Deer.” Peter huffed out. His chest felt tight. “With some human helping on the side?”

“No.” Skip stepped closer. “It’s just the deer meat. I promise.”

Peter didn’t believe Skip for a second. When he didn’t move to eat, Skip simply tutted.

“You’re awfully quick to judgement, Einstein, considering you and your friend killed how many of my men?”

“Stop fucking calling me that.” Peter growled and kicked the tray of food back under the gate. Skip had no reaction to the food spilling on the already dirty floor aside from a slight smirk that twitched on his lips. As if he enjoyed and even expected Peter’s reaction. “They shot at us first, we didn’t have a choice.”

“What would you rather me call you? You haven’t told me your name.” Skip took another step closer. He was right up against the bars now, far too close for Peter’s liking. “Do you think we have a choice? You kill to survive. So do we. We have to take care of our own by any means necessary.”

“So then what?” Peter replied. “You’re going to chop me up into tiny little pieces too?”

“I’d rather not. You’re too… delicate.” Skip bent down, picked up the tray and placed it aside. “Will you please tell me your name?”

“You’re so full of shit.” Peter couldn’t believe the absurdity of the situation. Tears threatened to build in his eyes but he forced the fear down the best he could. His fingers wrapped around the bars as he stared directly at Skip, hoping he appeared more confident than he felt. “Your friends didn’t have to open fire on us, we didn’t even know they were there!”

“I think I’ve been quite honest with you.” The man ignored his words and continued to stare at Peter. “Now I think it’s your turn.”

“Fat chance.”

Skip just sighed.

“Well, it’s the only way I’m going to convince the others.”

Peter felt confused, then. “Convince them of what?”

“That you can come around. That you can be apart of our community.”

Skip’s hand slowly started to raise towards Peter’s that was still wrapped around the bars. Peter fought the urge to throw himself backwards, however a plan started to form in his mind once he spotted the vulnerability Skip suddenly had.

On Skip’s waistband was a set of keys. If he managed to break his fingers, maybe he would have enough time to grab them and get himself out. Without his weapons or his backpack he was defenceless, but Peter couldn’t stand the thought of being stuck in this cage any longer.

Peter watched carefully as Skip’s hand wrapped around his, the touch gentle but there was nothing soothing about it. He ran his fingers over Peter’s almost like a predator sizing up his prey.

He was sure that was exactly what was happening. The way Skip looked at him made him feel sick.

“You have heart.” Skip whispered and continued to caress Peter’s fingers. “You’re loyal. You’re smart. You’re special, Einstein.”

“Oh…” Peter trailed and raised his other hand to rest on top of Skip’s. “Special?”

“Yes.” Skip looked delighted with himself. “I knew it from the moment I saw you run through the snow after that deer. You’re young, defenceless, alone. You’re someone who was led astray. I can protect you here.”

Peter smiled, though it was entirely fake. Internally he was freaking out beyond belief.

When Peter was sure Skip was completely convinced that he had fallen for his nice-guy act, he yanked on the man’s fingers as hard as he could against the bars. Skip screamed out in pain as his finger snapped, Peter incredibly pleased with himself as he used his other hand to frantically grab for the keys.

Though he quickly found the flaw in his plan when Skip furiously pulled on Peter’s other hand hard enough to smash his body into the metal gate. His head exploded with pain as he was repeatedly bashed against the gate, hard enough that he couldn’t focus on his task anymore and lost vision of the keys. Eventually Peter had to let go, his body falling to the floor with a pained groan as Skip also stumbled away from the gate and into the bench.

When Skip looked at him this time his expression was filled with rage. Rage that was so terrifying that Peter knew he had really fucked up.

Desperation had gotten the better of him.

“You stupid little boy.” Skip’s laugh was manic as he held his broken finger and glared at Peter. Even then, there was a hint of hope in the man’s eyes that Peter would still somehow come around and be apart of their sick little society. “You’re making it impossible to keep you alive. You want to die this badly, hm? What am I supposed to tell the others now?”

“Peter.”

Skip’s head snapped to him in a way that looked painful.

“What?”

Peter was the one who laughed now, though it was merely a mask of the terror he felt. Death really seemed like it was going to be his only option now.

“You tell them that Peter is the little boy…” Peter trailed as he wiped some blood from beneath his nose. Then, he made direct eye contact with Skip. “…that broke your fucking finger!”

Spit sprayed from Peter’s mouth as he said it, his body shaking as he kept his gaze level with Skip’s. Skip looked down at his mangled finger, a wry smile on his face as he shook his head in disbelief. Then, he turned back to Peter, a certain kind of insanity in his eyes that made Peter’s fearless facade start to crumble slightly.

“How’d you put it, hm?” Skip whispered. “Tiny pieces?”

Peter gulped at the implication.

“See you in the morning, Peter.”

Peter only let the tears fall when Skip slammed the door behind him. All he could do was curl up in the corner of his cell and hide his face in his knees, his nose still leaking with blood from being repeatedly smashed into the gate but he couldn’t care less as the silent sobs wracked his body.

All he could think about was Tony, back in the basement of that shitty house, defenceless.

All he could think about was how much he wished Tony was here to protect him, to put an end to Skip the way he had with countless others since they’d met.

Peter never should have left.

-

That next morning, Tony’s eyes shot open.

For the first time in days he felt coherent. Before anything else, his first thought was Peter.

“Underoos?” Tony whispered as he forced himself to sit up. His memory was foggy, the last days and even weeks nothing but a blur of noise and pain. He remembered Peter’s voice, the agony in his stomach when the kid stitched him up on both sides, the needle he’d been injected with. Maybe he had eaten at one point but he didn’t remember. “Peter?”

When there was no response the worry was immediate. Tony frantically looked around the basement for any sign of the kid, but Peter and his backpack were nowhere to be found.

Fuck.

Tony forced all the pain into the back of his mind as he got to his feet and grabbed his own backpack and weapons. Pain almost debilitated him but he shoved it down and made sure everything was still there.

He was barely conscious at the time but he remembered Peter saying something about being tracked. He remembered that the boy left, but not when, and that only made the worry increase.

Once he was sure he had everything Tony made for the stairs.

“I’m coming, buddy.” He whispered under his breath as he struggled his way up. “I’m coming.”

If the kid had died because of him…

“I promise, buddy. I’m gonna find you.”

-

Peter didn’t sleep a wink that night. He stayed in the corner of the cell, eyes locked on the door rather than the body parts scattered around the room. No one came in to see him, no one came in to clean up the mess inside the room. Peter was just left alone with his thoughts and the dread of what was coming for him.

His tears had dried up hours ago, but when he heard the first signs of noise, he immediately teared up at the horror of what was coming for him. Not even minutes later, the door slammed open and Skip stormed into the room with Otto on his tail.

Peter pressed himself impossibly further into the corner of the cell as Otto opened the gate and threw it open, eyes filled with fury as he made his way over to Peter and grabbed him by the arm.

Peter immediately struggled against Otto’s rough hold and thrashed his body as hard as he could. Otto dragged him across the floor, Peter using his other hand to grab onto the bars and try to stay inside the cell.

“Stop fucking moving!” Otto screamed in his ear as he yanked Peter away from the bars. His fingers immediately released but he grabbed onto another bar instead and held on as tight as he could. His other limbs screamed with pain as Otto pulled but he didn’t relent. “You little shit!”

“Let go!” Peter screamed and thrashed again. He managed to free his other arm for just a second before Skip latched onto it and started to pull. “Stop! Fucking let go of me!”

Peter bit down on Skip’s hand as hard as he could. The man yelled out and kneed Peter in the stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of him instantly. Peter heaved in desperate breaths as all the fight left his body at once, tears starting to leak uncontrollably from his eyes as the two men heaved his body onto the same bloody bench the torso had been left on the night before.

Peter struggled as much as he could, eyes wide at the sight of Skip lingering over him wielding a large, sharp meat cleaver.

“You look like such a pretty boy when you cry.” Skip whispered as he raised the cleaver over Peter’s head. “I warned you, Einstein. You’re smart, but you clearly aren’t smart enough. I really hoped you would come around. You’re such a special boy, you know that? You were perfect for us.”

Peter coughed and struggled desperately to escape their hold but they were too strong.

Before Skip could bring the cleaver down on Peter’s head, a sudden idea hit him when he spotted the bite mark on the man’s hand.

“I’m infected!” Peter screamed so loud his throat burned. Skip stopped immediately and stared at him with a disbelieving but sinister smile. “I’m infected, and so are you!”

Skip rolled his eyes but lowered the cleaver regardless. Peter spotted the man glance at his hand where Peter had bitten him, the bite mark deep enough to draw blood.

“Lift up my sleeve!” Peter yelled again, chest heaving with effort. “Do it, you’ll see I’m not lying!”

Skip laughed and slammed the meat cleaver into the bench right beside Peter’s head. Peter flinched away from the weapon, eyes wide as he watched Skip’s every move.

“You’re not seriously falling for this, right?” Otto growled, his hold on Peter’s left hand incredibly tight and possibly bruising. “He’s clearly lying.”

Skip shook his head and reached for Peter’s sleeve.

“I’ll entertain this.”

When Skip pulled up Peter’s sleeve his eyes became comically wide when he spotted the bite mark. There was an eerie silence for a few moments as both men processed what they saw, Otto’s hold loosening on Peter’s wrist.

“What’d you say?” Peter muttered as he watched the pair start to panic. “Everything happens for a reason, right?”

“What the hell is that?” Otto had fully released Peter’s hand now, as had Skip. Peter was unrestrained. “Steven?!”

Skip just laughed, though the panic was obvious as he looked between his hand and Peter’s bite.

“He would’ve turned by now.” Skip took a small step back. Small enough for Peter to grab the cleaver. “It can’t be real.”

“It looks pretty fucking real to me!”

Otto, unlike Skip, was in full panic mode. This gave Peter his perfect chance to escape.

In a rush of movement, Peter grabbed the cleaver from beside his head with his left hand and threw it as hard as he could in Otto’s direction. The weapon made contact with a sickening sound, blood spraying as Otto’s body fell backwards into the wall behind him. Peter immediately scrambled to get off the table as Skip swore behind him, Otto’s gargling sounds making his stomach turn as he hurried to get out of the room.

A gunshot deafened him, Peter barely able to duck in time as the bullet flew past him and lodged in the wall. He immediately headed for the door and threw himself behind it as Skip shot at him again, the bullet hitting the doorframe this time. Cold air blasted in from an open window directly in front of him and Peter wasted no time in throwing himself out of it.

He slipped when his feet landed on the ground, the wind so severe that it made Peter’s skin burn. A storm must have picked up overnight, he’d been too lost in his own mind to really notice.

Peter immediately got back to his feet and ran as fast as he could through the unfamiliar area. He could barely see through the snow and used to to his advantage as he dodged multiple of the cannibals. It didn’t take long for the town to become alert of his disappearance, Peter hardly able to believe that he was worth all of this effort.

Still, he pressed on, unarmed and terrified.

The storm seemed to worsen by the second as Peter made his way through old shops, houses, and even an old arcade. There was no time to admire any of it as he struggled to find his way out of the town.

Peter desperately wished Tony was here. He needed him more than ever.

When it started to become hopeless that he would ever find a way out of the town without running into an enemy, Peter dove into an old restaurant and huddled up in the corner of the kitchen. The restaurant was massive, massive enough that there were many hiding spots if someone decided to come in here. Peter had no idea if he was being followed, there was no way to tell through the heavy snow.

The town’s alarm bell rang outside as the cannibals continued to look for him.

“Anything?”

“No- I can’t she shit in this fucking storm!”

“Keep looking! He can’t have gone far.”

Peter moved around the kitchen a little once he had gathered his composure. There were no weapons, only debris and useless items from before the apocalypse. The kitchen had been completely stripped of anything he could use to fight back as if these people knew.

Peter decided to pick up a plank of wood that had broken off one of the booths in the main area of the restaurant and headed for the front doors. It was quiet outside, most of the voices concealed by the storm. This could be his last chance to get away.

Just as he opened the door, however, much like at the lake cabin he was immediately grabbed and shoved back into the restaurant. The wooden plank was torn from his hands and thrown outside before the door was slammed shut.

Peter’s body was thrown to the ground heavily, his back aching from the constant falls as he looked up at who had stopped him.

Skip.

Peter would never escape.

Beside him several lanterns toppled off a table and smashed on the ground. The carpet was instantly set alight, the fire spreading quickly. Skip aimed a gun at him, a sick smile on his face as he glanced at the fire with little to no care.

“You’re really easy to track, Peter. Kids usually are.” Skip taunted him as he hovered over Peter. He had a machete strapped to his back, a weapon that looked even more terrifying than the meat cleaver. He must have grabbed it after Peter escaped. “There’s nowhere to go. I’ve already taken care of that little window you hopped through. You want out?”

“Fuck you.” Peter spat. “You’re a fucking animal.”

“Relax.” Skip replied. As Skip talked, the fire crept up to his foot. The longer he was distracted, the more chance he would set on fire and Peter would have a chance to get away and hide. “It’s unfortunate you had to do this, Peter. We would have gotten along really, really well. Remember how much of a good team we were, fighting those infected?”

“I’d rather die.” Peter growled.

At that precise moment the fire reached Skip’s pant leg and set it alight.

As the man swore and frantically tried to put the fire out which gave Peter time to scramble to his feet and run as fast as he could to take cover behind one of the many booths in the restaurant.

“That’s alright.” Skip whispered once he managed to put out the fire. Half of his pant leg was gone, the skin on the man’s shin burned red and raw. Skip looked remarkably unfazed. “We have all day.”

As Skip started to stalk him, Peter hurriedly moved deeper into the restaurant in search of anything he could use to kill or knock out Skip. As he searched, Skip continued to talk, his voice low and creepy as the wind howled outside. The fire continued to grow and spread in Peter’s direction, the wind doing nothing to help him.

Peter felt like he was going to die today.

A tear leaked down his cheek as he grabbed a glass off one of the tables and hurled it in the opposite direction to him.

Unlike the infected and even some of the people he and Tony had come across, Skip didn’t fall for the trick for one second.

“You think those little tricks will work on me?” Skip edged closer to Peter’s position, glass crunching beneath his shoes. Peter could barely see him from where he was hidden which only made things more terrifying. “Did your daddy teach you that? Maybe you’re not so smart after all, Einstein. Definitely not smart enough to realise how good you might’ve had it with me.”

Peter ducked behind another booth and grabbed the first thing he saw. He held a plate in his hands, grip tight as Skip got closer and closer.

“I know you’re not infected.” Skip had almost reached him now. Peter could see his shadow in the firelight. “No one who’s infected fights this hard to stay alive.”

The second Skip stepped around the corner to where Peter was hidden, he leapt up and smashed the plate over the man’s head. He cried out in pain, a wayward bullet smashing the glass window behind Peter as he kicked him in the gut. Skip stumbled backwards and almost tripped but it wasn’t enough to knock him out. Peter took off in the opposite direction while Skip was stunned, his heart roaring so loud in his ears that he could barely hear anything else.

“Clever boy!” Skip yelled out, the anger now present in his tone. “I can’t wait to get my hands on you!”

Peter peeked over the edge of the booth just in time to spot Skip unsheathe the machete. Panic encased his heart as he quickly ducked back down and considered his options. He looked around desperately for something to use, only for his eyes to widen when he spotted a knife underneath one of the tables a few booths away from him.

This was his chance.

Quickly, when he was sure Skip wasn’t looking in his direction, Peter hurried towards the knife. Glass cracked loudly beneath his feet, but not loud enough to be heard over the roar of the fire as Skip continued to yell and ramble as he stalked through the restaurant. The cannibal looked beneath every table for Peter, a sinister, sick smirk on his face as he did so.

Peter wanted to cry. He wanted to sob, he wanted to scream for Tony, anything. Anything that would get himself out of this horrible situation he’d gotten himself into.

Even though he had a weapon it didn’t feel like it was going to be enough.

His next move could kill him.

Peter shoved the thought down and waited until Skip was almost at his position to strike. The man had his back to him, completely unsuspecting of Peter creeping up behind him. Without hesitation, Peter leaped onto the creep’s back and plunged the knife into his flesh as hard as he could. The knife missed Skip’s chest and lodged into his shoulder instead, the man screaming out in pain as he thrashed to get Peter off of him. The machete fell from Skip’s hand and skittered across the floor as Peter held the knife in him.

Skip managed to break his arm free and latched onto Peter’s head and flipped him fully on his back. They both crumbled, the fire hot as they struggled to recover.

Peter managed to get up first, his body aching as he crawled on his hands and knees to reach the discarded machete.

He wasn’t quick enough.

Skip grabbed his ankle and yanked him back, forcing Peter’s movements to stop.

“I knew you had heart.” Skip taunted behind him and released his ankle. Peter kept his gaze firmly on the machete, trying to think of a way to reach it without Skip noticing. “You know, it’s okay to give up. There’s no shame in it.”

Peter started to inch forwards even as he heard Skip get to his feet. He only had eyes for the last escape option he had.

“I guess not. Just not your style, is it?”

Before Peter could move any further Skip kicked him hard in the side. He cried out and slumped on the ground, tears starting to leak from his eyes as he tried desperately to move further. Smoke choked his lungs as Skip knelt behind him, legs on either side of Peter’s body as he grabbed his head with one hand and forced it off the ground. Peter could still see the machete in the corner of his eye, almost in reach.

“You can try begging.” Skip whispered in his ear. “You can beg all you want.”

With the last amount of anger he had left in him, Peter forced his next words out breathlessly.

“Fuck you.”

This, as Peter predicted, enraged Skip. The man violently rolled him over and slammed him into the floor hard enough for Peter to see stars and wrapped his hand around his neck in a chokehold. This left Peter’s arms completely free.

Peter reached blindly for the machete as Skip got right in his face, blood leaking from the stab wound Peter had given him.

“You think you know me, huh?” Skip growled, his hand tightening around Peter’s throat. “You think you’re so smart?”

Peter felt the hilt of the machete graze his finger tips.

Almost.

“Well let me tell you something.” Skip’s other hand was on his waist now, almost caressing him. It started to lower as Peter desperately grabbed for the machete. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

Peter’s fingers wrapped around the hilt of the machete the moment Skip’s hand touched his crotch. He swung the machete at Skip and slashed him in the hand he was using to choke him. Skip released immediately and fell to the side, screaming out in pain as Peter scrambled onto his knees and flipped their position.

Peter felt blinded by Skip’s violation as he raised the machete and brought it down on Skip’s face as hard as he could, barely able to see the mess he made through his blurry eyes. Once he started slashing, he couldn’t stop.

The fear and anger poured out of him in an uncontrollable force as he screamed and sobbed as he brought the machete down again and again, blood spraying over his face and clothes as he mutilated Skip. He felt sick, he felt like vomiting, he felt like a monster.

He didn’t want to do this but he didn’t want to die.

All he could think about was the pure anguish at the sight of Tony’s broken body in the basement, of Sandwich surrounded by blood at the bottom of that hill. Skip’s taunts, his nickname, the way he had caressed Peter as he threatened to kill him at the same time. The implications of every endearment and compliment, his disgusting, poisonous touch…

He brought the machete down again.

Again.

Again.

When someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him away from Skip’s bloody corpse, all Peter could do was scream.

-

It hadn’t taken long for Tony to discover exactly what was going on.

There were people, and a few bodies, everywhere.

It didn’t take long for Tony to realise they were looking for him.

Tony made quick work of the humans he came in contact with despite the searing pain in his stomach. He pushed through, Peter his only concern as he cornered two men and interrogated them the only way he knew how.

Once he had managed to force a location out of the pair, he killed them both and followed the map he’d made one of them mark in his own blood.

“I’m coming.” Tony constantly muttered under his breath as he reached a town filled with hunters. “I’m coming, Pete. I’m coming.”

If Peter wasn’t here he didn’t know what he would do. He’d been drawn here by the sound of an alarm bell echoing throughout the town, several hunters scattered around the area as Tony approached. The wind was harsh, so harsh that he could barely see, but he didn’t let it phase him as he killed anyone who intercepted his path. All he could think about was Peter as he searched every building he came across and blocked out any distractions.

Eventually he found his first real evidence that Peter was even here. Tony stumbled into one of the buildings and closed the door behind him, his chest heaving as the pain increased tenfold. He ignored it and forced himself to move forward, his flashlight illuminating the dark space as he looked around for anything useful.

The room was mostly filled with shelves stacked with clothes and bags. Tony was about to move on when he saw a familiar badge on one of the smaller backpacks, his stomach sinking when he realised exactly what badge that was.

It was Peter’s backpack. It sat amongst another five or so backpacks, all of them empty except for Peter’s. It was heavy when Tony picked it up and rifled through it. Almost of Peter’s things were still inside, including his notebook, something Peter would never leave behind. The only thing that was missing was his switchblade.

Tony started to suspect there was something more sinister going on as he pulled Peter’s backpack over his free shoulder checked over the rest of the stuff on the shelves.

On a lower shelf was Peter’s knife, sheathed and placed with a few other weapons. Tony took it and put it in his pocket, the worry overwhelming as he pushed further into the building.

A sickening smell started to meet Tony’s nose as he pushed past a few plastic flaps into a refrigerated room. He expected to see animals the group had hunted strung up from the ceiling, but to his horror, there were people strung up instead.

Tony immediately checked every body, horrified that he might find Peter amongst them. Much to his relief, none of them were small enough to be Peter, and he immediately moved on. The hanging bodies were all too reminiscent to the hunter’s violent stash they’d found in Pittsburgh.

His kid had been taken by a group of cannibals. It almost didn’t sound real, Tony could barely believe that the world had turned out like this. Tony forced his way through what he now knew was a butchers shop, barely able to stomach the thoughts of what they might do, or might have already done, to Peter.

“I’m coming buddy.” Tony continued to whisper as he made his way to one of the back rooms. “I'm coming, I promise.”

The bench was covered in blood, as was the floor. There was a body, a fresh body with a meat cleaver sticking out of his chest on the ground beside the bench. On the other side of the room was an open cage, though upon closer inspection, there was nothing there to suggest that Peter had been held captive. The body on the ground was his only clue.

Tony slowly made his way back outside, desperate to find something, anything. The place was still crawling with hunters, however Tony was able to quickly take them out without the others noticing. The storm was greatly working in his favour.

Looking for Peter started to feel like a lost cause until the smell of smoke hit his nose.

In the distance he could see the faint orange glow of fire emitting from one of the buildings, evidently where the putrid smell of smoke was coming from. Without hesitation Tony rushed his way over, battling the wind the entire way as he did so. He only encountered one hunter who was so distracted by the burning building that he didn’t even hear Tony coming.

Once the man was taken care of, Tony pulled on the door handle only to discover it was locked. The building was quickly becoming an inferno, and if Peter was somehow inside there…

He had to get in.

The wind along with the blazing sound of fire was too loud to hear if anybody was inside as he kicked the double doors as hard as he could. It took a few tries for the wood to splinter enough to break the lock, Tony coughing hoarsely as the doors swung open to reveal the mess inside.

The first thing he saw was Peter.

Peter had his back to him, a machete in hand, the teen violently attacking somebody on the ground. Tony rushed over to his kid, eyes wide at the state of the man Peter was repeatedly slicing with the machete.

“Peter!”

Tony’s heart broke at the sound of the kid’s anguished scream as he pulled him away from the body. Peter immediately began to struggle, thrashing in Tony’s grip in a desperate but weak attempt to get away. The machete remained in the unrecognisable man’s face and out of Peter’s reach, much to Tony’s relief.

“Don’t f-fucking touch me!” Peter sobbed and thrashed even harder against Tony’s hold. “S-stop!”

Tony grabbed Peter by the shoulders long enough to turn the boy around. Peter sobbed and pushed at Tony’s chest with his hands, his face covered in blood, tears and dirt as Tony cupped his cheeks in both hands. He analysed the teen’s face, anger surging through him at the countless bruises on his face and around his neck. It didn’t take a genius to realise who had done that to him.

“Peter!” Tony tried to meet Peter’s eyes though the kid seemed to look anywhere but him, far too panicked to respond. “It’s okay, it’s okay, buddy. It’s me, it’s Tony. Look.”

Peter finally looked at him then, his eyes filled with tears when they met Tony’s.

“It’s me.” Tony repeated and gently wiped some of the blood away with his thumb. “It’s me, kiddo.”

“T-Tony-” Peter’s fingers gripped his jacket so hard his knuckles turned white. “H-He tried to-”

Peter’s knees started to buckle and Tony immediately brought him close in a tight hug. Peter clung onto him and continued to cry so violently his entire body shuddered with every breath. Tony rested a hand on the back of the boy’s head and rubbed his back with the other, something he used to do with his baby girl when she was upset.

“Oh, baby boy.” Tony whispered as he held his kid close. He pressed a kiss to the side of Peter’s head and shut his eyes for a moment to take in the relief that Peter was alive. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“H-he t-tried to-”

Peter couldn’t seem to get the words out.

“I know, kiddo, I know.” Tony opened his eyes and quickly surveyed their surroundings. The fire was getting bigger by the minute. The longer they stayed there the more chance they were to get trapped. “Buddy, we have to get out of here.”

Tony glanced at the body over Peter’s head. Something horrible must have happened for Peter to react so violently, so viciously. After finding the hanging human bodies in the butchers shop Tony couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of horrors might have happened. An undeniable rage flowed through him but he forced it down and focussed on the trembling, vulnerable teenager bundled in his arms.

“Come on, Underoos. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

If Tony wasn’t injured the way he was he would have carried Peter out himself, but with his wound there was no chance he could do that. He settled to gently pull Peter back and wrap an arm around the boy’s shaking shoulders so he was still tucked close to him. Peter continued to cling onto him with that same white-knuckled grip, his eyes wide and unseeing as Tony gently led him out of the burning building.

“We’ll get you all cleaned up, okay, bud?”

Peter didn’t respond. His eyes looked ahead blankly, traumatised.

Tony’s eyes burned at the sight.

A kid so young as Peter should never have that look on his face.

He pressed another kiss to the top of Peter’s head and shielded him the best he could from the harsh wind.

“It’s okay, baby boy. I’ve got you.”

-

Tony wasn’t sure how long they pushed through the storm until they found somewhere safe to hide. They were well outside the cannibal’s town, far enough that the likelihood of being followed was slim to none. His wound pulsated with pain constantly, worsening the longer he walked for, but he had no choice. He needed Peter to be safe.

Their safety came in the form of a small cabin that looked like it had been abandoned for years. The windows were boarded up with planks of wood, though other than that there was no evidence that anyone had been there for years. When Tony pushed open the door he was relieved to see that the only things inside the cabin was old furniture that was covered in dust and cobwebs. It looked more like a storage shed, if anything.

Tony closed the door behind them to block out the cold, his arm still wrapped around Peter’s shoulders. Peter shivered violently, his eyes still wide and vacant as he looked up at Tony for guidance.

Tony’s stomach churned at the sight of Peter. The boy’s face was still covered in blood that had now mostly dried thanks to the harsh wind, tear tracks visible through the red that tainted his skin. The bruise around his neck had darkened since Tony first found him along with a bruise in the shape of a hand around his left wrist.

Tony tried not to think about the implications and grabbed one of the chairs to dust it off.

“Okay, buddy.” Tony whispered, afraid that Peter would be spooked if he spoke too loud. “Can you sit down?”

Peter did as he was told, his eyes now focussed on the floor. His breaths were short and wheezy which prompted Tony to take off both their backpacks and grab Peter’s inhaler as quickly as he could. When he pressed it into the teen’s hand, he didn’t react, which only ignited more fear in Tony’s gut.

He used one hand to lift Peter’s chin and pressed the inhaler to his mouth with the other. Thankfully Peter inhaled the medicine, another tear slipping from his eye he did. Tony gently wiped the tear along with some of the blood from Peter’s cheek, worry tearing apart his stomach as Peter’s sad eyes locked onto his.

“You’re safe, Underoos.” Tony promised as Peter took another puff. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

Peter nodded just slightly, more and more awareness appearing in his eyes as he watched Tony grab a few rags and some water from his backpack. As he wetted the towels, he glanced back at Peter who was now staring at his trembling hands and picking at some of the blood desperately. Before Peter could potentially hurt himself, Tony quickly used the rag to wipe it away for him.

“Kid…” Tony trailed as he wiped the red from Peter’s palm. Tears burned in his own eyes when he caught Peter’s expression. “I’m so sorry.”

Tony expected a witty or sarcastic reply that Peter would always respond with, but this time, there was nothing. Peter only sniffed and looked away, his expression unreadable as Tony added more water to the rag so he could clean his face next.

Peter only flinched a little when Tony began, but other than that, the pair remained silent.

Tony should have been there.

Fuck.

This was his fault.

Tony kept it together for the kid’s sake as he cleaned away as much of the blood as he could. There was still some in the boy’s hair and all over his clothes but there was only so much he could do with the little supplies they had. Once they got moving hopefully Tony could find the kid some new, cleaner clothes.

As Tony was wiping away the last of the blood on Peter’s ear, the teen finally started to speak.

“I-” Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, Peter’s vacant expression crumbled as he started to cry. He looked helpless when he looked at Tony, his lower lip shaking as he tried to talk. “I- I didn’t want to do that, T-Tony. I- couldn’t stop- h-he-”

“It’s not your fault.” Tony cupped Peter’s cheek like he would with Morgan and wiped away his falling tears. “None of this is your fault, kiddo.”

“I c-couldn’t stop!” Peter choked out. “B-but I didn’t want to die! H-he was g-gonna-”

Peter’s words choked off in a harsh sob that wracked through the teen’s whole body. Tony’s composure started to crack as he brought Peter close and wrapped his arms around him as tight as he could. Peter returned the hug with even more force, his head hidden in Tony’s shoulder as he sobbed.

“They killed S-Sandwich!” Tony had wondered where their horse had gone. “I- I killed s-so many of them! I didn’t want t-to but I didn’t know w-what e-else- I h-had to get them away from you!”

“I know, buddy. I know.” Tony eased them onto the ground, barely able to hold them both up with the intense, sharp pain in his side. “None of it is on you.”

“S-Skip- h-he” Tony felt Peter’s body tense as another sob shuddered through him. “He t-touched me a-and I j-just couldn’t-”

Tony’s blood went ice cold as the implication made its way to his ears. Furious tears burned his eyes as he brought Peter impossibly closer, barely able to process the words.

Skip must have been that man’s name.

He had always had fears as a parent. Before the apocalypse he had those fears with Morgan. Fears of other people, of other adults and what they were capable of. Pepper had always been there to ease his mind and push away his his worries. Tony couldn’t fathom a world where any of his children were hurt in such a way, and here he was, hearing those words.

Tony wanted to go back there and do much more to that man than Peter had.

“You’re safe now, baby boy.” Tony whispered. “I won’t let anybody hurt you again. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I’m so sorry, Underoos.”

“I didn’t w-want to kill anyone-”

This is the kind of trauma Tony hadn’t wanted to see hit Peter.

Tony held him through it all.

Peter cried for a long time, his words becoming more and more disjointed and broken as he processed the horrors that had occurred. Horrors that were too much for his young brain. Tony continued to mutter quiet reassurances until the boy eventually started to calm down enough to fall asleep, his fingers still wrapped up tightly in Tony’s jacket.

Taking Peter to the Fireflies began to feel like it was worthless. This had all happened because of the Fireflies. The longer Tony sat there with his boy sleeping in his arms the more he found that heading back to Jackson would be best for them. Best for Peter. Jackson was the safest place he could be.

However, Tony knew that Peter wouldn’t share the same sentiment.

Tony sighed. He felt hopeless.

He shuffled so that his back was rested against the cabin wall and held Peter comfortably in his arms.

Tony rested his chin on the top of Peter’s head and sighed heavily again.

“You’re gonna be okay, baby.”

It was the same words Tony had said to Morgan on the night of her death.

Morgan would have loved Peter.

Tony pressed a gentle kiss to Peter’s forehead and closed his eyes.

“I promise.”

Chapter Text

SPRING

Tony stared up at the freeway sign above him, the slight feeling of dread pooling in his stomach as he read the big bold letters.

Salt Lake City.

On the right hand post that suspended the signs above the freeway was another small sign that made Tony’s stomach sink even more.

Hospital next exit.

They were closer to the Fireflies than ever before. Tony tried to ignore how that thought made him feel as he turned to Peter, who at some point had drifted to the other side of the freeway they had been walking on for miles. The teen had his back to Tony, his gaze seemingly focussed on a picture of deers displayed along the concrete wall that welcomed them to Salt Lake City.

“Hey, Pete.”

He waited a moment for a response but it never came.

“Peter?”

Peter didn’t even flinch. The teen’s mind was somewhere else entirely.

“Peter!”

Finally, the teen whipped around and looked at Tony. He had that same distant, empty look he had started to get ever since Tony rescued him from that horrible town.

“Huh?”

“Did you hear me, bud?”

Peter’s shoulders slumped as he shook his head. The kid glanced back at the deers for a long moment before he shook his head a little and made his way over to Tony’s side. He watched the kid for a moment, worried by that look in his eyes.

Peter hadn’t shared much since they left the small cabin. There had been pieces here and there, names Tony heard when the kid had nightmares, but he still didn’t know the full story of exactly what happened that day. It pained him to his core, along with the guilt that grew on every bad day that Peter had.

He should have been there. Peter shouldn’t have had to resort to the violence he did.

Tony should have been there to protect him.

“Look. Hospital.” Tony pointed to the sign once Peter was by his side. Hesitantly he wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulder, happy when Peter leaned into his touch. “This is where we get off.”

Peter nodded and stared at the sign with that same distant stare. Days like this had become a common thing ever since Skip, however it wasn’t as bad as they had been in the early days. Slowly, but surely, Peter was starting to return to his old self.

Even today Peter had been okay until he saw the picture of the deer.

“Peter?”

Peter looked up at him then, his brown eyes wide. They looked so much like Morgan’s.

“Hm?”

“You doing alright?” Tony rubbed Peter’s shoulder. “You’ve been quiet today.”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Peter nodded and sighed a little. He didn’t seem annoyed by Tony’s concern, just exhausted in general. Some days the kid became irritable by his worry but today that didn’t seem to be the case. “I’m just tired I guess.”

“Alright, Underoos.” He hesitated a moment before he said his next words. “Does it have anything to do with those deer over there?”

At the mention of the deer Peter’s head swivelled back in their direction. The kid stared for a long few seconds before he blinked and shook his head.

Knowing that the boy didn’t want to talk about it, Tony rubbed Peter’s shoulder one more time before he lowered his arm and started to walk further down the road.

After a few seconds Peter started to follow, his fingers constantly twisting with each other as they walked side by side in silence. Tony felt at a loss of what to do, the guilt only worsening at his failed attempt to improve Peter’s sullen mood.

Instead he focussed on their surroundings. Green grass grew all around them, a welcome sight from the snow that had long since melted. Tony relished in the warmer weather as he observed the cars scattered all around them, some upturned, others with their doors wide open. It was nothing unusual, just another place that was frozen in time after the world ended. He could barely remember what it was like when the roads functioned normally and cars were something almost everyone had.

None of it phased Tony until he entered an old camper van. He thought he might be able to find something useful, like medical supplies, but all he found was a picture of the family who used to own the van. It lay untouched on the counter, only a little torn on the edges.

Tony stared at it for a few seconds. Two adults, three children with bright and smiling faces.

He didn’t notice the bodies until he turned over the photo and read the words written in black marker on the back.

Forgive us.

There were three bodies in the van covered with a white sheet. The sheet was stained with old blood, old enough that they had to have died years ago.

The bodies were small.

Tony stared at the child-shaped bodies with wide eyes. For just a split second he could hear the sounds from that night, the screams as people were killed, Morgan’s panicked breaths as her life was quickly taken from her.

His own cries rung around his ears as he stared at the sheet. Small shoes, about the size of Morgan’s, poked out from beneath it.

Tony tried to shake away the memories as he backed out of the van. He took deep breaths of fresh air as he took a moment to regain his composure, barely able to hear anything over the screaming in his ears. It only faded when he spotted Peter up ahead, blissfully unaware of the tragedy he’d just walked past, staring at the side of a bus.

Once he was sure he wasn’t going to break, Tony made his way over to Peter.

The kid was looking at the picture of an airplane on the side of the bus. It was a tourism advert.

“I had a dream about flying on one of these the other night.” Peter again, more life in his town than there had been previously. More of Tony’s panic dissipated at the return of the boy’s usual behaviour. “It was super weird. I’m on this big plane full of people and everyone is screaming and yelling because the plane is going down.”

“That sounds…” Tony trailed and made a face.

Peter’s spirits immediately lifted and Tony suddenly felt ten times lighter.

“Insane, right?!” Peter pointed to the plane in the advert. “I’ve never even been on a fucking plane! But get this, suddenly I’m in my Spider-Man suit and I’m on the wing of the plane using my webs to steer the thing away from the city. Like, I checked the cockpit and there was no pilot so I decided to go out there and do it myself.”

“That sounds a lot like you.” Tony chuckled. “So, then what? You saved the plane?”

“Um…” Peter trailed, eyebrows furrowed. “Well, I managed to steer the thing away from the city but we still crashed on the beach. I woke up right before we crashed. I think there was a bad guy trying to take us down! Weird.”

“Dreams are weird.” Tony replied.

“It must have been so scary for the people who were in the planes when the outbreak started. They all crashed, right?” Peter whispered as he traced the picture with his finger. Quickly his mood was fading and Tony felt desperate to prevent that. “I don’t even know what it’s like to be in one. I used to think we were the only place in the world.”

“Not all of them crashed. Only the ones who had infected people onboard that were too far gone to control themselves.” Tony replied as he looked further down the road. They still had a lot of walking to do. “A lot of horrible things happened on that day, kiddo. None of us could stop it even if we tried. Let’s keep going.”

Peter followed without complaint, a frown on his face as they walked.

“I can’t imagine it.” The kid said as he hopped over a stray tyre. “All I’ve known my whole life is the infected. The infected and the crazy people. I can’t imagine the world being any different. Was there really a world where everyone was normal? People didn’t always want to hurt each other?”

“Yeah. That’s what the world was like.” Tony tried not to think about the memories as they headed down an exit ramp. There were more and more cars scattered around blocking most of their path, however in the distance he could see the remains of another abandoned quarantine zone. “There were still people that hurt each other, it just got worse after the world ended and there were no more laws. Before that, the police would handle most cases.”

“Oh…” Peter trailed. “Were there always people like him?”

Tony opened his mouth to ask who him was only for it to click a moment later. He glanced at Peter, who stared ahead with that blank expression Tony hated so much. Rage began to simmer in the pit of his stomach as he thought about how that man was the cause of Peter’s trauma. Not knowing everything that happened that day killed Tony inside but he didn’t want to push Peter into explaining.

Tony knew how it felt to be pushed like that and that was the last thing he wanted Peter to feel.

“Yeah, buddy.” Tony’s fists clenched, his nails painfully digging into his palms. “There were people like him even before.”

“Oh.” Peter almost sighed. “He was worse than any infected.”

The quarantine zone was close now, the pile-up of cars increasing as they got closer and closer. In the distance he thought he could see the faint outline of the hospital, however he had to get closer to be sure.

Tony glanced towards Peter, who was kicking a rock along the cracked tarmac. The boy looked deep in thought, a slight frown on his face as the rock disappeared beneath a trashed car.

It was silent between them for a few minutes before Peter spoke again.

“Was your life better because you were famous?”

Tony was thankful for the change in subject.

“In most ways, yes. I had enough money to buy basically anything I wanted.” Tony sighed at the memory. Money had meant so much to people, to him back then. Now it couldn’t be more worthless. “I could go anywhere in the world if I wanted to, but once… but once we had Morgan, we decided to move into a smaller home in Texas. We wanted her and the- the baby to have a normal life away from all of that.”

Tony’s voice choked up on the mention of his unborn baby.

Thankfully Peter didn’t ask.

“That sounds nice.” Peter’s voice was quieter now. “What’s it like in another country?”

“Depends where you go. I always liked Italy.”

“Italy.” The kid repeated. They were almost at the quarantine zone now. “Did you take your family there?”

“Yeah. They loved it.” Tony had reached the closed gate of the abandoned zone now, various debris scattered everywhere in front of the gates. Husks of what used to be vehicles were piled against the gate high enough for them to climb over. “I think you would have liked it too.”

Tony carefully avoided a skeleton beside one of the cars as he hopped up onto the hood.

“But now it’s the same as here, right?”

It didn’t take long for Tony to climb to the top of the wreckage. He stood on top of an old bus, the building he’d seen before now in clear view. It was the hospital, shining like a beacon in the sun.

Dread began to pool in his stomach at the sight of it.

“Most likely, kiddo.” Tony blocked out the sun with his hand as Peter climbed up beside him. “Another city, another abandoned quarantine zone. There’s the hospital the Firefly mentioned straight ahead, you see it?”

“Yeah, I see it.” Peter squinted at the large multi-storey building. “What if they’re not there?”

“Then we head back to Jackson and figure out what to do from there.”

Deep down, Tony wanted to return to Jackson before doing anything else. He wouldn’t think twice about turning on his heel and dragging Peter all the way back to Rhodey’s so he would be safe and far away from the Fireflies. He couldn’t shake the bad feeling that something horrible would happen to Peter. His immunity made the kid valuable, and the more Tony thought about it, the more he wished he could shield him from them forever.

The world was too far gone for a cure.

There was no saving the ones that were already dead.

There was definitely no saving the ones already infected.

With a newfound resolve, Tony leapt over the top of the fence and landed on the other side with a heavy thud. His stomach ached with the motion, the wound still not completely healed, especially after weeks of relentless travel. He winced and rubbed the spot for a moment, heaving in deep breaths as he turned around and looked up at the kid.

Peter was staring at the ground with that same distant look as he prepared to jump. Tony watched carefully, ready to catch the boy if he needed it, but Peter landed on the ground on both feet without any assistance.

He didn’t even look at Tony.

Tony had noticed that sometime during the time that he was incapacitated Peter seemed to have gotten over most of his fear surrounding the drops from higher ledges. He very rarely seemed to need Tony’s help, though every now and then he would desperately look for the adult’s guidance. It pained Tony so deeply that Peter had essentially been forced to get over his fear when Tony hadn’t been there to protect him.

Once he was sure Peter was okay, Tony assessed their surroundings. Like most cities, the easiest way to the hospital was completely blocked off by piles upon piles of debris. A collapsed skyscraper leant against another, an eerie reminder of Peter and Tony’s first journey together with Natasha. These buildings were nowhere near as tall.

It had been so long since they lost Natasha. Months.

Grief pulled at his heart but he shoved it down and focussed on the task at hand.

Their best option turned out to be the bus station. The inside was mostly open and free of wreckage, however most of the sections were closed with metal gates. Several suitcases lined the walls, all covered in dirt and mould, long since abandoned by the people trying to escape the city. Tony looked around in silence, making sure there were no infected lurking in any of the dark corners as they headed down the steps to the bottom floor.

He eventually found a ledge that led to the upper level of the building. A ladder hung off the side, too high for Tony to reach.

“Hey, buddy, wanna help me with this?”

When no reply came, Tony turned around in search of the teen.

Peter sat on one of the seats in the centre of the foyer, feet kicking some of the loose bricks under his shoes as he stared into the distance. A pang of guilt churned his stomach as he made his way over to the kid to catch his attention.

“Peter?”

This time, unlike back out on the freeway, Peter met his eyes.

“Hm?”

“Are you sure everything’s alright, Underoos?” Tony took a seat beside Peter, barely managing to hide his wince of pain when his stomach throbbed for a brief moment. At least the pain was manageable now. “Need a break?”

“Nah, I just…” Peter sighed heavily and buried his face in his hands. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No- that’s not-” Tony rested a hand on Peter’s knee and squeezed. “Don’t apologise.”

“It’s just last night’s nightmare.” Peter’s eyes were teary when he removed his hands. He helplessly looked at Tony, almost pleading him to make it better. “Not the plane dream, the fucking Skip dream. I- I can’t get him out of my head today. I was fine, but then I saw the deer, and-”

Tony nodded, hoping Peter would continue.

Peter let out another sigh that made his shoulders slump.

“That day I killed a deer for us. I was out hunting, I had a rabbit but then I saw the deer.” The kid whispered quiet enough that Tony could barely hear him. “That’s why Skip found me in the first place. He offered to trade some of the meat for medicine for you.”

The guilt hit him again.

This was his fault.

If he had been more careful, if he’d listened on that other side of the door…

Tony didn’t know what to say. Peter seemed content to sit in silence for a few minutes as he continued to kick the bricks with the toes of his shoes. Eventually Tony got to his feet and glanced back at the ladder, exhaustion starting to creep up on him as he made his way back over. Peter followed him this time, his expression seeming a little lighter as he too looked up at the ladder above them.

“Think you can get that for me?”

Peter nodded and allowed himself to be boosted up and over the ledge. Tony waited nervously as the kid slowly lowered the ladder down, the sound of scraping metal echoing around the station as he did so. However, before Peter dropped the ladder the full way, there was a faint noise behind him. The kid turned, eyes wide, Tony’s heart shooting into his throat when the kid dropped the ladder all together and took off within seconds.

“Oh my God!”

“Peter?!” Tony called out as the ladder clattered to the ground in front of him. “What is it?”

No response.

The kid had actually run off on him.

Urgently Tony scrambled to pick up the ladder and rested it against the ledge. He barely checked if it was sturdy before he hauled himself up, his side screaming with pain each time but he barely felt it.

“Peter!”

The relief was immediate when he reached the second level and saw Peter stood directly opposite him basically hanging out of an open window. Tony couldn’t see what had captured the kid’s attention, though by Peter’s reaction, it wasn’t anything dangerous.

When Peter turned around to look at Tony he had the biggest smile on his face.

For the first time since they left the town, Peter’s eyes were bright with happiness and excitement.

“Tony, you have got to see this!”

Before he could say anything, the kid took off running again, his footsteps echoing off the walls as Tony hurried to follow him. Peter weaved in and out of rooms, often looking out the window and sighing with agitation when he didn’t find what he was looking for.

“Pete, slow down.” Tony tried but Peter didn’t listen. “What is it?”

“Hurry up!”

Peter’s pace picked up and Tony was barely able to keep up. His side ached, his hand lightly holding it as he followed the echo of Peter’s footsteps. Thankfully there were no infected in the immediate vicinity to hear all the noise they were making.

Finally, after what felt like hours of running after Peter, the kid came to a stop. When Tony entered the room, which was more a greenhouse than a room, he gaped at the sight he saw.

A giraffe. A fucking giraffe.

The room they had stopped in was fully overrun with nature. Without a ceiling, green grass and flowers sprouted from the floor, the walls covered with various leaves and vines. The giraffe leaned into the building and started to eat some of the leaves on the wall, seemingly unbothered by their presence. Peter’s eyes were wide with wonder as he watched the animal, his fingers twisting nervously in front of him.

“Man.” Peter whispered. “You see this?”

The giraffe was calm and content as it continued to eat leaves from the wall. Morgan would have begged and begged to be in Peter’s place so close to a zoo animal. She had always complained about not getting to pet the animals behind the glass, even the lions.

Tony thought of his daughter as he stepped forward and slowly approached the animal. The giraffe didn’t even blink in his direction, too focussed on eating the leaves. It must have escaped from a nearby zoo some time after the outbreak hit.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked as he watched Tony carefully approach the giraffe. “Don’t scare it!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Tony slowly reached out and rested his hand on the giraffe’s neck. As he expected, the giraffe didn’t even flinch at the touch and continued to eat. “Hey there, fella.”

“Wow.”

“Come on, bud.” Tony gestured for Peter to come over. “It’s alright.”

Still twisting his fingers, Peter nervously approached the animal and followed Tony’s lead. His fingers caressed the giraffe’s cheek, the animal remaining unbothered even at the extra attention. Peter beamed at him, the full-teeth smile making Tony’s heart swell with both love and relief.

He’d missed that smile.

After a few minutes, the giraffe pulled away and started to walk away.

“What, no!” Peter whined as he reached out for the retreating giraffe. “Where’s he off to? Come on, let’s follow him!”

Before Tony could respond Peter was off again.

“Slow down, kiddo.”

The teen disappeared into the building, his footsteps echoing around the hallway as Tony followed him up a flight of stairs that led to the roof.

The roof overlooked the city, the view beautiful even with the damaged skyscrapers in the distance. The giraffe had joined a group of four other giraffes as they slowly headed away from Tony and Peter, the atmosphere so serene that Tony started to forget about the horrible state of the world.

For a moment, it was just him and his kid, nothing else.

“So…” Tony trailed. “This everything you were hoping for?”

“It’s got its ups and downs, but…” Peter paused and took a deep breath. The giraffes had made their way over to a few trees and started to eat from them. “You can’t deny that view though.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes together just watching the giraffes make their way around the trees. Tony’s eyes locked onto the hospital building looming ominously in the distance, the happiness he had been feeling starting to waver as he stared at it. Then, he looked at Peter, whose eyes were locked on the giraffes with a childish interest.

A surge of emotion brought tears to his eyes so suddenly that he couldn’t control it. He quickly looked away from Peter and wiped the single tear that fell before the kid could see, his heart starting to throb painfully in his chest as he looked at that fucking building.

The thought of leaving Peter had once been so easy.

Once, he had been cargo and nothing more.

Tony was never supposed to care. He had vowed to never care again after he lost everything twenty years ago.

But there was Rhodey.

Then there was Natasha.

There was Peter.

“We don’t have to do this.” Tony force his voice to be steady as he held back his tears and turned to face Peter. The kid’s head snapped to look at him instantly, his eyes wide with confusion when he looked at Tony. Another rush of tears hit him when the kid’s eyes met his but he couldn’t let them fall. “You know that, right?”

“But what’s the other option? Go back to Jackson?” Peter asked almost desperately. The kid was pleading with him. “After all we’ve been through? After everything- after everything that I’ve done? It can’t just be for nothing.”

“Peter…”

Tony wanted to tell him he was sorry, that it wasn’t his fault, but the words got lodged in his throat. Emotion pulled at his heart as he stared at the teen, who stared back at him earnestly, who stared back at him with so much trust. Peter trusted him to do the right thing.

Again, Tony tried to speak and the words just wouldn’t come out.

“I know you mean well, Mr. Stark.” Peter turned back to the giraffes and leant on his elbows against the hand railing. That childlike wonder was still in his eyes as he watched the animals, though there was a seriousness that had fallen over the two of them that hadn’t been there before. “But there’s no halfway with this. I… I have to do this. Once we’re done, we’ll go wherever you want, okay?”

Peter was right yet Tony wanted to believe anything but.

He took a moment to school his emotions before he spoke.

“You’re right, bud.” Tony drew in a big breath of air and held it for a moment. “But you know I’m not leaving that hospital without you.”

Peter smiled at that, his eyes shining again when they looked at Tony.

“I know.” The kid replied. “I’m not leaving without you either.”

They spent a few more minutes stood together overlooking the giraffes, most of them migrating to another, greener tree. It was peaceful, the most peaceful Tony had felt in his life since the outbreak.

Though when his eyes locked onto the hospital building he knew they had to get this job done. Together they headed back into the building and down a stairwell that lead out of the station and into the main hub of the quarantine zone.

It was an eerily familiar sight to the place Tony had ended up in the wake of the chaos of the first few days of the outbreak

There were old triage tents scattered around the space, all of them contained with rusted and moulding medical beds along with other equipment that had decayed over time. Tony doubted there was anything useful in any of the tents, not even bothered to look in any of the plastic storage containers.

The place looked almost identical to the triage he and Rhodey ended up in.

He didn’t remember much of those days but he remembered enough.

“Right after everything went down I ended up in a triage just like this.” Tony turned away from the tents and looked around the rest of the area. He needed to find them a way through. “Everywhere I looked I just… I saw families torn apart. Children without their parents, parents without their…”

He couldn’t finish.

“Was that after you lost… your family?”

Tony felt his inner defence immediately rise at the question. He wanted to snap at Peter, he wanted to tell him it was none of his business and never to ask that question again, but the anger quickly faded into grief as he tried not to get lost in the memories. Regret shone in Peter’s eyes as Tony tried to figure out how to respond.

“Yes.” Tony whispered. To avoid the tears, he started to look for a way out of the zone. Most exits were blocked by either a fence or piled up vehicles. There was even an old tank by one of the damaged gates. “I don’t remember much of those days. As far as I knew, my life was over.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine losing your whole family like that.” Peter whispered. “Can I… can I ask how it happened?”

Again that anger surged up Tony’s throat. But when he looked at Peter, who stared at him with grief-filled eyes that looked so much like Morgan’s, it immediately faded into background noise.

Tony was quite possibly looking at his world right now.

The reason he’d decided to keep living after Natasha.

“Pepper, she… she died in a car wreck. Rhodey was driving, there were people everywhere, it was chaos like you’ve never seen it. Another car crashed into ours.” Tony could smell the flames from that night. He could hear the infected’s screeches amongst civilians screams as he desperately tried to awaken his wife. “She died on impact. She was pregnant.”

Peter said nothing.

Tony spotted a way through the debris. A bus, it’s door wide open, the window opposite completely smashed. On the other side was the rest of the road that looked most, if not all clear of any rubble. If they were lucky they could loop around and make their way to the hospital before nightfall.

“Morgan, she… she died in my arms.” Tony’s throat constricted with pain at the echo of his baby girl’s cries. He tried not to look at the shattered glass of his watch. “It was just the two of us. A man from the military was ordered to fire and- and he shot at us.”

“Why would he shoot at you if you weren’t infected?”

It was an innocent question. A question Tony had asked himself every day twenty years.

Why?

It was a question he would never find the answer to.

“I don’t know.” Tony’s jaw clenched with pain as he recounted the memories. “The world was ending. Everybody was on edge, people were eating each other. Anybody was seen as a fucking threat. There was nothing I c-could do to save any of them.”

As they stepped through the bus to reach the other side Tony barely noticed Peter had stopped to open his backpack. He had been too focussed on keeping the sob at bay, his eyes watering dangerously as his heart roared in his ears. He only noticed when he didn’t hear the boy’s usual footsteps beside or behind him, the sudden panic only worsening his rampant heart as he turned around to look for Peter.

However, Peter was still inside the bus in the middle of zipping up his backpack. He had something in his hand, his eyes already on Tony. He looked nervous.

Peter slung his backpack onto his shoulders and made his way over to Tony. The boy hid his hands behind his back, his gaze uncertain as he came to a stop in front of Tony and peered up at him. There was so much empathy bleeding through Peter’s expression that Tony almost broke down then and there.

However, he held it in and focussed on what Peter was hiding.

The kid shuffled slightly and took a deep breath.

“I kept this safe for you.” Peter revealed the photo of himself, Pepper and Morgan. “I really think you should keep it.”

Tony’s eyes blurred with tears when he looked at their beautiful smiling faces.

“Kid…” After a moment of hesitation, Tony gently took the picture from Peter. “I- Thank you.”

Pepper and Morgan beamed back at him, their smiles as bright as he remembered. Tony’s own face smiled back at him, a face he barely even recognised. The picture was in the same condition it was when Rhodey offered it to him, barely even a tear in the corner as he ran his finger over Pepper and Morgan’s faces.

The noise from that day would have deafened him if Peter didn’t start talking.

“You look happy in that picture.” Peter said, which prompted Tony to carefully tuck the photo away in a pocket on his backpack. If he looked at it any longer he would break down and he didn’t want the kid to see him like that. “And young.”

“Yeah.” Tony breathed as they resumed their walk towards the hospital. It was still a far way away, far enough that Tony could already see more blockages in their path. “I was a different person back then. You wouldn’t even recognise me.”

“I like you how you are now.” Peter shrugged. “Even when you’re a mean old man sometimes.”

Tony side-eyed Peter at that which made the teen laugh. It was like music to his ears.

The two continued to bicker as they made their way through countless city streets. Surprisingly there were no infected lingering around outside, only remains of some clickers that somebody had piled up next to an old store. The bodies were very old, the infection all over the storefront crusted and broken.

Though Tony was sure there were live infected hidden within the city’s buildings. Many of them were boarded off by either wooden planks, vehicles, or furniture. He was almost certain of the horrors that were hidden behind those barricades.

The thing that worried Tony was that there was no sign of human life, either. The only sounds he heard was the light wind and the occasional bird.

It was essentially a ghost city.

Still Tony kept and eye and ear out as they travelled. Eventually, as he expected, the easiest way to the hospital was completely blocked off by an unclimbable pile of debris. Ahead of them was a tunnel, which was also blocked off by a massive semi-trailer and a few cars.

The tunnel quickly became their only option when Tony spotted a way to get through.

“It’s going to be different this time.” Peter said as Tony led him over to the hood of the truck.

Tony heaved himself onto the truck with a slight groan of pain and waited for Peter to follow.

“What do you mean?”

“The Fireflies.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he climbed up beside Tony. “They’re going to be there this time.”

Tony didn’t say anything as he looked deeper into the tunnel. There was no sign of life, human or infected, only abandoned cars, rusted cars. The ceiling on both sides of the tunnel had started to collapse, the sun shining through the holes to illuminate the area. The left side of the tunnel was almost completely destroyed which left the right side for them to walk through.

The silence was eerie as the pair jumped down from the truck and moved deeper into the tunnel. Tony had his gun out in one hand, ready for the infected that would surely be lingering somewhere within the tunnel.

It hadn’t been blocked off by the semi-trailer for no reason. The placement of the truck was most definitely planned to keep something inside and away from the city.

The road was broken and divided in several different places, long grass growing in the areas where the sun shone through. Peter stuck close, the two of them silent as they weaved their way around cars and big chunks of the ceiling.

Both of them stopped when they heard the first screech followed by clicking. He grabbed Peter immediately and urged him behind the closest car as the infected got louder and louder, most definitely attracted by the sound of their footsteps.

Eventually the clicker came into sight, its head horribly deformed by the infection. It was so horribly deformed that the body could barely hold up its head, its arms also thick with the infection. Whoever the person was before was unrecognisable.

Fuck, the thing was almost a bloater. A few more months and it would be.

Before Tony could form a plan, more and more noises started to echo around the tunnel. Multiple curses flowed through Tony’s head as other infected started to head their way, most of them clickers in the same state of the first. Peter’s eyes were wide as two more half-bloaters revealed themselves, one of them even worse than the first. This one was tall, maybe even taller than Tony.

There was no way he was going to be able to kill these things. Clickers that were so close to being bloaters were lethal and far too strong for a shiv. If he used his gun, the entire tunnel’s worth of infected would funnel their way. He had no doubt that there were more.

He could hear them.

Instead he grabbed the closest thing to him, an old coca-cola can, and hurled it as far away in the opposite direction to them he could. As predicted, the infected immediately hurtled in the direction of the noise, which was when Tony urged Peter to move. Tony held onto the kid’s hand and led him behind other vehicles, trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible. It wouldn’t take long for the infected to hear them.

The deeper they got into the tunnel, the more infected showed themselves. All of them were clickers, the clicks echoing off the walls in a way that made Tony feel like he was in one of those old horror movies he used to watch before the outbreak. He could see shadows of the things against the wall, the light shining through the holes in the ceiling not enough to keep clear sight of the monsters.

Tony turned on his flashlight to help avoid cracks in the road so he didn’t trip. If either of them tripped, their lives would be over.

They were severely outnumbered.

He grabbed another piece of debris and hurled it behind them. The sound was louder than the can he’d thrown first, so loud that the infected further down the tunnel were attracted to it.

To his horror, the guttural roar of a bloater almost deafened them.

Tony looked ahead desperately as Peter flinched beside him, eyes scanning for a way through. He couldn’t see the bloater but he knew it was somewhere down there lingering in the darkness. There was no telling how many would be down there, either.

Their only choice was to keep moving.

Peter’s hand squeezed his painfully tight when a clicker suddenly stumbled out of a service room on the side of the tunnel. It was huge, bigger than any of the ones they had seen so far. Definitely the closest infected to a bloater.

They waited for it to pass, its body twitching inhumanly as it aimlessly hobbled around with no purpose.

Still, after so many years of the infected existing, Tony couldn’t believe that the world had come to this.

To think that these people had been stuck down here for twenty years succumbing to the infection…

Tony pushed those thoughts away and quickly led Peter into the service room once the clicker was far enough away. He could hear the bloater clearly now, he could hear it breathing. However, the closer they got to exiting at the other end of the service room, he started to hear the breathing twice.

There was two of them.

Using his weapons wasn’t an option. Even with Peter’s help, they wouldn’t be able to take down two bloaters alongside however many clickers they had passed by already.

He spotted the bloaters the second they exited the service room. There were indeed two of them, their bodies huge masses of infection. Amongst them were three more clickers, all three of them almost as big as the bloaters.

Essentially they were going against five bloaters.

Dread filled Tony when he noticed that the ground was flooded with murky water, definitely not deep enough that they needed to swim across, but just high enough that any infected in the nearby radius along with the ones right in front of them would hear their footsteps.

Shit.

Behind the bloaters was another semi-trailer that blocked off the rest of the tunnel. The placement of the truck, just like the one at the beginning of the tunnel, was purposeful. This group of infected must have been too much for the zone to contain.

On top of the truck was a large crate, big enough that Tony could use as a step if he managed to get Peter up there. The monsters wouldn’t be able to follow them once they were up and over.

The infectious masses hovered close by each other, almost like bodyguards.

It would have almost been funny if this wasn’t real life.

When he glanced at Peter, the kid was staring at the group of infected with wide, terrified eyes. Tony squeezed the boy’s hand to grab his attention, the kid’s wide eyes now focussed on him desperately.

He hated seeing his kid so scared.

However, this was a different kind of fear he saw in the kid compared with how he found him at that cannibal town.

Tony shoved those thoughts away and pointed toward the crate on top of the semi-trailer. Then, he pointed to Peter, and made a boosting motion in the hopes that the kid would understand. It took a few seconds for the boy to nod, his eyes still wide as he pointed toward the bloaters.

The zipper on his backpack would be too loud to grab out one of the molotovs he already had prepared. The infected would be on them before he could even light it, so instead, he used the same routine and looked around for something big enough to throw.

He settled on what looked like a half-rotted suitcase that lay discarded a few feat from an upturned car. His stomach churned at the objects scattered across the ground, which included old toys and clothes that were covered in mould and damp with water. He ignored who this suitcase might have belonged to and threw the thing as far as he could.

The tunnel erupted with noise so loud that Tony flinched. The bloaters and clickers predictably headed straight for the noise, which gave Tony and Peter a few seconds to hurry over to the semi-trailer. Their footsteps were loud in the water but there was no other choice as Tony quickly boosted Peter onto the truck.

The infected were loud, though the bloater’s roars were louder than anything.

Roars that were headed towards him.

When Tony looked over his shoulder the massive group of infected were headed his way. The bloaters, the three clickers, and more clickers.

“Kid, hurry!” Tony yelled as the massive group converged on him. “Peter!”

The crate scraped against the roof of the truck loud enough that it reverberated off the walls. Every single infected within the tunnel would be on him in moments.

Thankfully the crate fell to the ground with a heavy thud. With just seconds to spare Tony clambered onto the truck, his chest heaving with panic as he turned around to look at the infected.

The group was enormous. Bigger than Tony had ever seen.

“Fuck.” Tony breathed. “That was close.”

“There’s so many of them.” Peter trailed. “I’ve never seen so many in one place… how long do you think they’ve been here?”

“Twenty years.” Tony took a deep, pained breath. “They must’ve been locked in h-”

The bloaters threw themselves against the truck hard enough that both Tony and Peter almost lost their footing. He was able to shake the shock of dying off pretty quickly as he turned around and prepared to jump down from the truck. It swayed dangerously with the infected throwing themselves against it, his ears bleeding from the loud, piercing screeches and screams.

The other side of the tunnel was almost completely submerged in deep, murky water.

“Come on, Underoos.” Tony urged Peter on as he prepared to jump down. “The water’s not so deep here, you’ll be fine.”

When Tony jumped down first his boots immediately filled with cold water. Peter followed a moment later, the kid stumbling slightly from the force of the landing.

The truck continued to shake behind them, though much to Tony’s relief, it looked like it would hold. There was enough debris from the ceiling above to keep it rooted in place.

The kid already had his inhaler in hand, his eyes wide as he breathed in the medicine.

“That was so fucking scary.” Peter rubbed a hand over his face. To Tony’s horror, the boy’s eyes were starting to tear up. “I thought- I thought you were going to die for a second there. There was so many of them!”

“So did I.” Tony stepped toward the kid and brought him into a tight hug. Peter let out a sigh of relief, the infected merely becoming background noise as they embraced. “We’re okay, kiddo. We should keep on moving.”

“Okay.” The hug continued for a few more seconds before Peter pulled back. “Let’s go.”

Tony turned around and tested the stability of an old ventilation system. It was the kid’s only path to get through the water without swimming and there was nothing around for him to float on. Tony made his way over first, the metal creaking beneath his weight.

“Watch your step, the water looks pretty deep further up.”

Together they made their way through the flooded tunnel using the ventilation system and other debris. After what felt like hours of carefully traversing the flood Tony spotted an old maintenance tunnel. They were both shivering from the cold by the time they reached the locked gate, a heavy sigh exhausting Tony’s lungs of air as he shone his flashlight into the dark area. A dead clicker was fused to the wall inside, still wearing most of its clothes.

Without a word shared between them Tony boosted Peter up and over the fence. The kid had the gate open within seconds and together they moved deeper into the maintenance area.

It didn’t take long before they reached yet another flooded room, the large hole in the ceiling revealing that the hospital was much closer than he thought. Tony stared at it for a long time, uncertainty making his stomach churn as he stared at the letters on the side of the building.

Saint Mary’s Hospital.

They were almost there.

“We’re so close now!” Peter beamed at him as if the sight of the hospital was the best thing in the world. “Personally I can’t fucking wait for the infected to be gone.”

Tony didn’t have the heart to call out the boy’s nativity.

Even if the Fireflies managed to make a cure there was no certainty that it would be able to cure the infected. He found it hard to believe that a cure could even be distributed country-wide, or if there would be enough for more than one state alone. All he could think about was Peter’s safety, the dread starting to pull on his heart the longer he stared at the hospital.

Peter was just one boy.

How could that be enough for the whole country? The world?

“Me too, kiddo.” Tony lied. “Let’s get you across.”

After a lot of trial and error Tony managed to drag Peter across on a flimsy pallet, much like he had back when they first met. Debris and nature covered every surface they walked on as they made their way through the area.

Eventually they exited back into the tunnel which ended up being in worse condition than the rest of it. The water was raging, the vehicles floating dangerously in the water as it surged away from them and in the direction of the exit. The tunnel was almost entirely clogged with piled up cars and trucks, along with the ventilation system they had used earlier to cross the water. It had broken off the wall and was spread horizontally across the tunnel, the perfect path between the vehicles.

Peter followed close behind him as they carefully made their way over the vehicles. The surface was slippery, the rushing water louder than the infected had been as they made their way across. Eventually they came to a small jump, a small jump that made Tony’s side ache when he landed on the other side. He was on the rest of the ventilation that remained attached to the wall, the kid stood on a truck as he stared at the gap with wide eyes.

If Peter fell in that water he would have no chance of surviving.

“Okay, come on.” Tony extended both hands ready to catch Peter. “Jump.”

Peter stared at him owlishly.

“You’ll catch me?”

“I got you.”

After a moment of hesitation Peter ran and jumped.

The kid didn’t even need Tony’s help. Instead his hand landed on Peter’s shoulder as he smiled proudly at him.

“See, you didn’t even need my help.”

Peter rolled his eyes at him but still smiled.

“Let’s just get the hell out of this tunnel.” Peter started to walk ahead. “This water is freaking me out.”

A bus turned on its side was their only way across to the other side of the tunnel. It was completely stuck between one wall and the platform they needed to reach, the water surging beneath it. Worry flowed through him as Peter hopped onto the bus, the vehicle barely moving from the added weight. 

Not wanting to be away from Peter for too long Tony hopped down onto the bus himself.

The second his feet hit the bus it moved. It wobbled dangerously as the water continued to flow, Tony’s eyes widening when he spotted that the bus was slowly being dislodged from where it had been wedged against the ledge.

“Peter, move!” Tony yelled and urged Peter to get onto the ledge.

Tony only moved once the kid was safely on the platform and off the bus. Knowing that he had only a few seconds before he would be in the water, Tony ran as fast as he could towards the ledge. With every step the bus became more and more unsteady, and by the time he reached the ledge, it gave way completely.

Tony leapt for the ledge in a last-ditch attempt to make it off the bus. He managed to latch onto it, but after twenty years of rust, the platform immediately gave way and he fell back onto the bus. Peter scrambled backwards onto the part of the platform that was still standing, desperately reaching out for Tony as he started to get washed away along with the bus. It was still on its side but he knew he was a moment away from being submerged.

“Tony!” Peter cried as he frantically reached out. “Grab my hand!”

Tony tried, he really did, but the pain in his side had become too much. Before he could gather himself the bus knocked into something in the water hard enough for him to lose his grip. His body smashed through the weak glass and he tumbled inside the bus itself, the water thrashing him around as he reached desperately for the handles on the bus seats. More and more water filled the bus, sinking it as Tony’s body was forced against the very back of the vehicle.

The bus itself had stopped moving along the tunnel, though the water was too powerful. Tony was completely pinned, blinded by the water constantly splashing into his eyes.

All he could think about was his kid as he tried desperately to pull the door above him open.

He could barely feel the rest of his body.

When he had started to feel his body giving up a body heavily landed on the door he’d been trying to open. The glass cracked, Peter’s terrified face on the other side as he desperately pulled on the doors. Tony wanted to scream at the teenager for being so stupid, for going after him when there was clearly no chance, but he couldn’t find the words.

Peter started to kick the door. After a few hard hits the door finally gave way, the kids hand reaching for his as the water continued to rage around them. The bus creaked and moaned as it started to tilt dangerously.

“P-Peter!” Tony managed to scream as his mouth filled with water. “Peter, g-grab my hand before-”

The bus flipped and Peter’s body was thrown into the water. Panic encased his heart, but before he could do anything, he too was submerged in the darkness. Even though he could barely see, Tony pulled himself through the bus doors and into the full force of the water. He looked around desperately for Peter as he swam towards the light, his lungs screaming in protest as he pushed his body to the absolute limit.

In the distance he could see a body the size of Peter floating completely limp.

He increased his efforts and used the current to bring him closer to his kid. He grabbed Peter once he was in reach and moved as quickly as he could towards the surface.

By the time he made it to dry land he was at the end of his rope. It took all of his remaining energy to drag Peter’s limp body onto the bank, barely noticing that they were at the end of the tunnel as he stared down at Peter’s pale face.

The kid wasn’t moving.

Peter wasn’t moving.

Morgan’s dead eyes haunted him as he stared at Peter’s closed ones. Immediately he cupped the boy’s face in his hands, desperate for any sign of life as he shook the teenager’s small frame.

There was no response. Peter remained dead still, his mouth slightly open.

“Peter!” Tony almost screamed, his voice hoarse. “Fuck, Peter!”

He began CPR immediately, desperately willing his kid to breathe.

The water on his hands felt like Morgan’s blood as he desperately gave Peter chest compressions.

“Please, buddy, please.” Tony begged as he paused to check for a response. “Please don’t do this to me.”

Nothing.

Tony sobbed and continued trying.

In his tunnel vision he didn’t even notice the person approaching them until they spoke.

“Hands in the air!”

Tony’s head shot up in alarm. Two men stood in front of them, both with their rifles raised and pointed at him. He barely acknowledged them as he went back to giving Peter chest compressions, horror starting to overwhelm him as he faced another one of his dying children.

“Hands in the fucking air!”

Tony glanced at the men again, terrified.

History might repeat itself.

“He’s not breathing.” He pleaded for their help. “Please, he’s not breathing!”

“Get away from the boy!”

Tony ignored the command and continued chest compressions.

“Come on.” He muttered desperately. “Come on, Peter. Wake up.”

In his grief he didn’t acknowledge the man getting closer to him before it was too late to react.

The last thing he saw before the butt of the man’s rifle collided with his head was Peter’s pale, dead face.

Chapter Text

“Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to me baby girl, come on…”

Water rushed around his ears as he held Morgan’s bloodied body close to his chest, his own heaving with broken sobs as he tried desperately to get his baby to respond to him. Morgan’s eyes remained lifeless, her small body broken in his arms as he rocked back and forth.

“You’re gonna be okay, baby, stay with me.” Tony whispered like a mantra even though he knew she was already gone. Water soaked him from head to toe, his head pounding as he held his baby as close to his chest as he could. “Just listen to my voice, baby girl. You’re okay.”

When he pulled away to look at his daughter, his eyes widened when he saw it was no longer Morgan.

Peter’s lifeless body now lay in his arms, bigger than Morgan’s, though not by much. He was covered in blood, his eyes closed as if he were just asleep.

Tony’s sobs continued as he held Peter close.

He couldn’t protect any of his babies.

Not Pepper, not Morgan, not his unborn son.

Not even Peter.

Tony screamed.

When Tony’s eyes opened he expected to be back there.

He expected to be at the end of that damned tunnel with Peter’s lifeless body in his arms. Though as consciousness slowly returned to him, he discovered that the air around him was warmer than it had been in the tunnel. His body was dry and there was no sound of rushing water.

Tony’s eyes cracked open wide enough to be blinded. For a moment he just laid there and stared at the light above his head, his entire body aching with pain, especially the back of his head. His side steadily pulsated, though it was nowhere near as bad as it had been while trying to join Peter on that rusted, broken platform as the bus gave way beneath him.

Peter.

Peter had been dead when he last saw him.

He hadn’t been breathing.

Awareness came to him instantly. Tony sensed the presence next to him within seconds and snapped his head to the side, barely processing who he saw as he stared at the woman who sat slouched in the chair beside his bed.

He was in a hospital room. The only light came from the one above his bed, the room otherwise eerily dark.

“Welcome to the Fireflies.”

Carol looked mostly the same since he last saw her, though much less on the verge of death. There were dark bags beneath her eyes, the slight smirk on her face turning into more of a smile as she watched Tony realise who he was looking at.

“Sorry about the…” The blonde gestured to Tony’s head. “They didn’t know who you were.”

“Peter?!” Tony gasped, his limbs too exhausted to properly sit up. “Is he-”

“Peter’s fine.” Carol smile seemed relieved at the information. “Rogers and Lang brought him back. He’s alive.”

Tony slumped into the uncomfortable hospital bed with a heavy but relieved sigh. He saw stars for a moment, the nightmare still fresh in his mind as he processed the information.

Peter was okay.

His kid was alive.

But where was he?

He rubbed his aching head for a moment, heart roaring in his ears as he tried to keep himself calm.

“You travelled all this way…” Carol continued, her tone filled with wonder. “How did you do it?”

“It was all the kid.” Tony stared at the ceiling as he let some of the pain fade. “He fought like hell to get here. Maybe it was meant to be.”

Carol remained silent as Tony slowly pulled his body up into a seated position. There was another Firefly inside the room, the same Firefly that had hit him in the head with the rifle. The blonde man stared at him with a blank stare, though his eyes betrayed most of his emotion.

Tony could see guilt there, hidden in the man’s blue eyes.

His heart sank.

Something was wrong.

Where was his kid?

Carol got to her feet and stood with her back to him. He watched as she took a deep, shuddering breath before she turned back around, grief all over her face when she made eye contact with Tony. Anxiety thrummed through Tony’s veins as millions of unwanted scenarios flickered through his mind.

“I lost a lot of my crew crossing the country, Tony. I pretty much lost everything.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. When her eyes opened again, they were slightly teary. Tony was too worried about Peter to care much about her grief. “Then you show up and somehow we find you just in time to save him. Yeah… maybe it was meant to be.”

Tony swung his legs over the side of the bed and looked between the two Fireflies.

That same dread he’d been feeling since they reached Salt Lake City returned in full force as he locked his eyes on Carol.

There was something off. He’d known it from the second he regained consciousness.

If Peter was really alright he would be here with him.

“Take me to him.”

Carol stared at him just long enough for alarm bells to ring in Tony’s head.

“You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

The words pierced Tony like shards of ice. He got to his feet as fast as he could, his vision blurring as his legs almost failed him. It only lasted two seconds at most, his gaze focussed right on Carol as he forced his next words out.

“Let me see him. Please.”

Tony didn’t like the way Carol was looking at him. When he didn’t receive an answer straight away, he took a heavy step forward only for the man at the end of his bed to also take a threatening step closer.

Tony looked between the pair of Fireflies once again as that bad feeling started to consume him.

“Please.” Tony nearly whispers this time. “Just let me see the kid.”

“You can’t.” Tony wasn’t sure it was possible for his heart to beat any faster. “He’s being prepped for surgery.”

Tony’s ears started to ring as he stared at the blonde in disbelief.

Surgery.

His worst fears were coming to life right in front of his eyes as he stared at Carol, fists clenched painfully by his sides. Carol looked nervous, as though she thought she would get away with concealing this information from him, as if she thought he would ever be okay with it.

Tony should have dragged his kid back to Jackson when he had the chance.

He levelled Carol with an ice-cold glare.

“The fuck do you mean surgery?”

Carol glanced at the other man, who stood straight like a soldier though his eyes continued to betray his true feelings. Tony watched her sigh slightly, a crease appearing between her eyebrows when she turned back to Tony.

“The doctors tell me that the Cordyceps, the growth inside him, has somehow mutated.” She raised her hands in a placating gesture, entirely aware of Tony’s building fury. Fury that came from the very depths of his stomach and was extremely difficult to control. “That’s why he’s immune. Once they remove it they can reverse engineer a vaccine. A vaccine.”

“The infection grows all over the brain...”

He didn’t want to believe it.

He didn’t want to see the relief on Carol’s face when she spoke. They way she smiled as she said it.

“It does.”

They were going to kill Peter.

“Find someone else.” Tony growled. “He’s just a fucking kid.”

They had gone through hell to get here only to be told that the kid was going to die. He had been right, nothing good was going to come of bringing Peter to the Fireflies.

They should have turned back the moment Tony found the teen in that disgusting cannibal town.

“There is no one else, don’t you understand that?” Carol was begging him now, her eyebrows furrowed in desperation as she tried to get through to Tony. He stared directly at her with a straight face, his rage barely simmering beneath the surface. “He’s our last chance, Tony. There is no one else who can do this. No one has ever been immune before.”

Finally the rage and fear broke through the front he put up. Tony stepped quickly towards Carol, unsure of his own intentions as he locked eyes with her.

“Listen here, you’re going to tell me where he is right now or-”

Before he could finish he was kneed in the back of the legs hard enough to make his knees buckle. Tony slumped to the floor with a pained groan, his eyes immediately back on Carol and her minion who stood behind him with those guilt ridden eyes.

“Steve, stop.” Carol gestured to the man, Steve, who backed off immediately. “Tony, I get it, But whatever you think you’re going through right now is nothing compared to what I’ve gone through just to get as far as we have.”

There were faint tears in Carol’s eyes but Tony didn’t care.

They were planning to kill his kid.

She was planning to kill his kid for an impossible dream. She was planning to kill a child.

“I’ve known him since he was born.” Carol stood over him and Tony could do nothing but glare up at her, fully aware of the gun that was in Steve’s holster. If he tried anything now he would be shot by either of them in seconds and Peter would be dead. “I promised his mother I would look after him.”

“Then how can you let this happen?” Tony asked. “How can you live with yourself?”

“Because this isn’t about me, or even him!” Suddenly the blonde’s expression shifted into anger now as she bent over and pointed right in Tony’s face. He resisted the inhumane urge to attack here, only barely as he thought about Peter alone somewhere in the hospital being prepped to have his brain removed. His brain. “There is no other choice here.”

Tony huffed out an unamused laugh and shook his head in pure disbelief.

No wonder Rhodey had decided to leave these fools.

“Yeah… you keep telling yourself that bullshit.”

Carol sighed then and straightened back up. Any previous emotion was gone, her face now completely stoic as she rested both hands on her hips and looked down at him with indifference. Somehow indifference was worse than any emotion she’d displayed so far.

Carol turned to Steve.

“Take him out of here. If he tries anything, shoot him.”

“Yes, boss.”

Carol turned back to Tony as she headed out of the room. Her glare was lethal, though Tony’s anger was worse.

“If there was another choice I would have taken it.” She paused by the doorframe, back facing him. “I know you care about Peter but this is the only way. Don’t waste this gift, Tony.”

With that, she was gone and he and Steve were left alone.

The pair remained in silence for a few seconds before Tony heard Steve unholster his gun. He remained on the ground, head bowed, at a complete loss at what he was supposed to do right now. He was weaponless and alone with a man whose body looked a lot stronger than his weak and damaged one.

Luck wasn’t in his favour but he knew what he had to do.

He needed to save his kid.

There was no doubt about it. Tony would not lose another one of his children today.

“Get up.” Tony didn’t move. In the corner of his eye he saw the gun rise in his direction at his disobedience. “I said get up, Stark.”

Steve spat his name out like an insult. Tony almost laughed.

Instead he did nothing and did as he was told. Steve followed him out the room with his gun pointed roughly in Tony’s back, the entire situation somehow worse than what they had encountered in the tunnel as he walked through the hallway in the direction of reception.

The hospital itself was poorly lit, portable lights the only source of light that were no doubt powered by generators somewhere else in the building. There were crates scattered all over the foyer, most filled with medical supplies, another with ammunition scattered on top in plain view. Tony took note of the ammo as he walked in the direction Steve directed him, eyes roving all over his surroundings.

Tony was severely outnumbered. There were Fireflies scattered everywhere, weapons in hand, on guard.

He had started to think there was going to be no way to save his kid when he spotted his backpack. It was open on the reception desk, his rifle right beside it, still loaded. It was the only weapon left behind, his backpack completely empty aside from a few rations.

A plan started to form in his head as he stared at his belongings.

Tony waited until he was just close enough to his backpack before he stopped walking.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Steve snapped and dug the muzzle deeper into his back to urge him forward. Tony could hear something else in his voice now, something akin to the guilt he’d seen in his eyes, and saw his opportunity forming before his eyes. “Keep moving.”

Tony didn’t move.

The muzzle stabbed into his back painfully as Steve all but shoved him.

“I said keep mo-”

Tony spun around and grabbed Steve’s wrist. The man made a noise of surprise and fired, the bullet firing astray as Tony grappled with the Firefly. Stunned, Steve practically allowed Tony to slam him into the wall and tear the weapon from his grip. To make sure Steve wouldn’t be able to fight back, he delivered two firm hits on Steve’s head with the grip of the pistol, the man groaning in pain when Tony pinned him against the wall.

He shoved the gun into Steve’s stomach, the threat already on his lips as he stared into his panicked blue eyes.

“Where is the operating room?” Tony growled, fuelled by the rage and fear that he was going to lose Peter. “Talk.”

Steve struggled in Tony’s grip, his eyes wide as they darted all around Tony in search of help.

It wouldn’t be long before the Fireflies would crowd to him from the sound of the gunshot.
Tony’s finger twitched on the trigger when Steve remained silent.

Time was running out and Tony didn’t see any other option than to fire. Desperation flowed through him as the gunshot deafened his ears, his heart roaring as he pressed the gun deeper into Steve’s now bleeding stomach. The man wheezed and groaned, still struggling against Tony’s hold.

“Where?!”

“Top floor!” Steve wheezed. “The f-far end.”

Tony released Steve and knocked him out immediately with the gun. He didn’t care for the fact that the man would probably die from the gunshot wound, his mind clouded with rage as he slung his backpack onto his shoulders and snatched his rifle from the desk. There was blood all over the floor from the wounded Firefly, Tony’s boots sliding slightly as he struggled to gather his bearings.

However, there was no time to do anything of the sort. Hurried footsteps were headed his way along with the panicked yells of the other Fireflies on the floor. Tony just managed to stumble behind cover when two of them rounded the corner, their rifles raised in the direction of Steve’s motionless body.

Tony watched from behind a stack of crates, barely able to keep quiet as he watched.

“The smuggler got Rogers! He’s somewhere on this floor, find him! Protect the kid!”

These people were going to murder his child the same way Morgan had been murdered. It took one glance at his shattered watch to remind him about what he had to protect.

The rage and grief he felt was blinding. Tony prepared his rifle silently as he watched the pair of Fireflies split up, the only thought on his mind being Peter as one of them headed for the stack of crates he was hidden behind. Once he was close enough, Tony leapt out and grabbed the man without a hitch. He placed his hand over the Firefly’s mouth before he could alert the others and dragged him behind the cover and suffocated him within seconds.

Once the coast was clear Tony grabbed the ammo he’d spotted earlier and took off. There were more and more Fireflies filling the floor, their flashlights illuminating the dark corners as they swept the building with practiced motions. It wouldn’t take long for one of them to find him.

As quickly and as quietly as he could, Tony reloaded both of his guns and shoved the remaining ammo into his back pocket.

In every direction was a Firefly. Tony remained tucked behind his cover, trying to decide who to deal with first.

Peter didn’t have this much time.

His heart pounded as he watched a man head in his direction. If he moved, he would be spotted.

There was no choice but to shoot when the Firefly’s flashlight illuminated him. The man barely got to yell before Tony fired, the gunshot echoing off the walls as it alerted every other gunman in the area. The Firefly slumped to the floor, motionless, head bleeding profusely.

There was no time to feel any guilt.

Tony had been a bad person for twenty years.

Peter was all that mattered.

Tony took off in a sprint as footsteps flooded in his direction. He threw himself through a window frame into another waiting area that was filled to the brim with storage crates. A bullet whizzed past him as he weaved through the crates to the exit, barely managing to dodge another bullet that came from a Firefly at the end of the hallway. Tony dove into another room and fired a round of his own as he did, his mind completely focussed on his task as he exited into another one of the hallways.

Tony used his rifle this time to shoot a Firefly that had his back to him, the body going down instantly as he ran. More gunfire echoed behind him as the others followed, his only option to switch back to the pistol and fire haphazard shots behind him. He knew some hit their targets when a body fell or when a Firefly started to scream in pain.

Tony barely knew where he was going as he tore through the massive hospital floor. He eventually ended up at what looked like to be a waiting area for children, old toys scattered around the play area that was otherwise doused in darkness. His heart seized painfully at the sight of the cartoonish animals painted on the walls, his eyes locked on the giraffe that smiled almost evilly back at him. It was almost as if it was taunting him for losing Peter.

No.

He would not lose another child today.

Two Fireflies rounded the corner ahead of him. Tony fired immediately, barely blinking as he watched the bodies slump to the ground. Blood pooled on the tiled floor as he ran past the bodies and down another endless hallway. Men shouted orders at each other behind him as he ran through the darkness, chest heaving with effort and his side aching with pain.

He barely had time to dive behind a desk as a man exploded through the closed doubled doors ahead of him. Tony had the advantage of cover as he watched the man creep past, his flashlight roving from side to side as he walked down the hallway. To his relief, the man didn't think to check the desk he’d hidden behind, and once he was out of sight he wasted no time in heading through the now open doors.

It wouldn’t be long before they found him.

Everything was a blur when his eyes locked onto the doors that lead to a staircase. He barely remembered using a chair to lock the door behind him, the shouts of Fireflies starting to get closer as he headed up the stairs. It wasn’t long before Fireflies started to throw themselves at the door, heavy thuds in time with his racing heartbeat as he took the stairs two at a time.

When he reached the top floor it was eerily silent. It was almost completely dark, no sign of Fireflies or doctors anywhere as Tony crept through it. He broke into a desperate run down the hallway and through another set of double doors, only to squint when his eyes were suddenly assaulted with bright, white lights.

It was a makeshift triage tent made by the Fireflies. It was unmanned, filled with various medical equipment and boxes of files. Tony picked up one of the notebooks, the pages filled with neat and practiced handwriting.

March 15
We’ve finally crossed the Utah border. In a couple of days we’ll be back with the others. Today the crew was in much better sprits. I’ve been worried about their morale since Bruce and Betty’s passing last week. Hope came up to me and said, “Thanks for watching over us, Carol.” It was a small gesture but I needed it.

March 23
Peter never made it. We arrived at the hospital and there was celebration, at least from the others. I guess they’re happy to see their old friends. We haven’t seen some of the guys in over ten years.

After they told me the news I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t even talk to anyone. I know I should just be grateful to be alive, but right now I just want to close my eyes and rest for a bit.

March 24
They look at me and I know what they’re thinking - that we’re a bunch of incompetent grunts. What was I supposed to do? I thought I was going to die… my men were being hunted by the entire Boston battalion. I had to get out of the city. How was I supposed to know the Firefly escorts were already dead?

I panicked. In the end, I healed quickly, and my men were more capable than I give them credit for. More than a handful survived the army’s attack. I should’ve kept him with me, but instead I handed him off to a couple of smugglers.

I failed you, Mary. I failed all of us.

April 25
I can’t stand talking to any of them. I don’t think I can take the stares any longer. No way can I stay here.

April 28
Steve just radioed in. He spotted an older man and a young boy entering the tunnel by the bus terminal. He thinks he might have had brown hair, but he’s not sure. What if it’s Peter? Stop doing this, Carol!

The recon squad is about to head out. I’m going to join them.

April 28
When you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light.

He’s alive. They’re running tests on him now. I can’t tell if I’m excited, scared, or just nervous. All I know is my hands won’t stop shaking.

Tony slammed the book shut when he read the last line. He took a deep breath, his entire body trembling when he spotted a tape recorder beside where the notebook was left.

He wasted no time in picking it up and pressed play immediately. Carol’s voice filled the silence.

“It’s five-thirty in the afternoon, April twenty-eighth. I just finished speaking…” Carol’s laugh drilled into him and made the fury burn even brighter. Tony’s fists clenched around the small tape recorder as he listened to her relieved voice, Peter’s smiling face in the front of his mind as he did so. “More like yelling at our head surgeon.”

A pause.

“Strange said there’s no way to extricate the parasite without eliminating the host.”

Another pause, this time longer than the first.

Tony felt sick.

“That’s just a fancy fucking way to say we have to kill the kid. Now they’re asking for my go-ahead. The tests just keep getting harder and harder, don’t they?”

Carol took a heavy breath and said nothing for a long time. He thought the recording was over until she spoke again, her voice now shaking, no trace of that earlier excitement in her tone.

“I’m so tired. I’m exhausted and I just want this to end… so be it.”

The recording ended and Tony felt empty.

In that moment he was back with Morgan’s delicate body in his arms, begging the soldier not to shoot.

He needed to find Peter.

Tony tossed the recorder back onto the table with no care and headed out of the triage tent. He glanced at a sign at the end of the hall, hope filling his chest when he spotted pediatrics written on it in peeling, white letters.

That had to be where they were keeping his kid.

“I’m coming, buddy.” Tony whispered to himself as he headed in the direction the arrow pointed, rifle raised and ready to fire the second he was spotted. “I promise, I’m coming, baby boy.”

Unsurprisingly he ran into more Fireflies on his way to the pediatric ward. His body moved on autopilot as he silently took them out one by one, barely making a sound as he moved throughout the hospital. He ignored the Fireflies conversations about him as he took them out, his only focus being getting to Peter.

He had to get his kid out of this fucking hospital.

All it took was one mess up for Tony’s cover to be blown. Tony, in the midst of his grief and rage, allowed one of the Firefly's flashlights to catch a glimpse of him. Within seconds hell broke loose and he was firing before he comprehended what he was doing. Bullets met their targets, his mind focussed on its task as he made his way through the floor.

He didn’t look at the Fireflies faces as he passed their bloodied bodies. He only looked straight ahead, his mouth pressed in a firm line as he eliminated the last Firefly he could find on the upper floor. When the world fell silent, Tony finally took a breath, a pang of guilt pulling at his heart as his brain caught up with his actions.

There was no time for guilt when his kid was going to die.

He was all that mattered.

Tony found another tape recorder on top of a storage container just outside a set of double doors that was labelled pediatrics. He could sense movement inside and that was all it took for him to pocket the recorder and prepare himself.

Quietly he pushed open the doors and enters a small room lined with sinks. It was dark, the only light coming from the room on the other side of the window covered with a light blue curtain. Tony could see the shadows of people, all bent over something, their voices muffled by the wall.

Tony had killed the last line of defence that the Fireflies had.

Peter had to be in there.

Without wasting another second Tony shouldered through the door with his rifle raised. Three doctors startled and turned to look at him, all dressed and masked up for surgery. Tony could only see their fearful eyes as he looked between the three of them for a moment before he focussed on what was on the table.

It was Peter, dressed in a light blue hospital gown, eyes closed and oxygen mask covering his face. Tony could see the teen’s chest rising and falling, relief flooding him as he stared at the kid that had somehow become his.

He could hear Peter’s heartbeat on the monitor, slow and steady.

Alive.

The surgery hadn’t started.

He made it in time.

“Fuck…” Tony breathed out. “Step back.”

The only other man in the room that looked to be the head doctor rushed over to him, shaking hands raised in a placating gesture as he met Tony’s eyes.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Get the fuck away from him.” Tony growled as his finger twitched. “He’s just a kid.”

When he took a step closer, the doctor panicked and rushed to grab a scalpel and point it at him.

“I won’t let you take him.” The man pleaded, his hands trembling even more violently as he took a risky step closer to Tony. The two others in the room watched on fearfully, dead silent as they watched the ordeal between the two men. “Please. Think of all the lives we’ll save. This is our future.”

Tony fired.

The man fell to the ground, motionless. The two women screamed but Tony barely heard them.

“You animal!”

“Clea, shut up!”