A/N: I created this story when I looked for zombie apocalypse AUs and discovered they didn't really exist. So I'm filling the void. This might not be the best thing I've ever written, but it does have the most zombies of anything I've ever written.

This world is like the world set up in the Walking Dead. The characters here have none of their superpowers, but all of their personality (as well as I can write, anyways). So remember that when you start reading.

Tony's head was pounding, and his feet ached as he took one step after another on the black pavement of the road.

Beside him his group walked in silence, their faces identical in their drawn weariness.

Around them, trees moved in the wind, and a few bugs called out to one another. Beyond that, it was silent.

They had been walking for months, going from one place to the next, trying to find food and water. They could never stay in one place long - either there weren't enough supplies, or it wasn't safe. So they kept moving.

Right now, their problem was water. It hadn't rained in a long time, and creeks that normally ran with water were shallow mud pits. They had gotten water where they could, but they wouldn't last much longer on what they had. They needed a fresh source, and were hoping the next town over would provide that.

Suddenly, Clint, who was leading the pack, stopped and held up his fist. Everyone paused behind him. Clint locked eyes with Tony and nodded, and Tony immediately understood. He pulled his knife out from his belt and stepped forwards next to his friend.

"Where?" he said under his breath.

Clint replied just as quietly. "Heard it coming from up right. About two o'clock."

Tony listened, but he couldn't hear anything. Clint had the sharper senses of all of them, which was why he took the front. So sure enough, after another moment something appeared from the trees.

The figure was slouched and ragged, its skin hanging off in weird clumps, its hair tangled and matted. It shuffled forwards, a strange moan coming from its mouth. It used to be a man, and now it was nothing more than a monster. Tony fought back the revulsion he always felt. Somehow, he could never get used to seeing these things. The walkers.

Nevertheless, he stepped forwards, knife held out in front of him. The walker sensed him coming, and turned towards him, groaning, one arm outstretched. The other arm barely hung on by a ribbon of flesh.

Then, in only a few seconds, Tony had grabbed its shoulder, pushed it down, and shoved the knife straight into its skull. The walker collapsed by his feet. He looked around for more, but didn't see any.

When he looked to Clint, the man nodded his agreement. There was only one. For now, anyways. They gestured to the others, and the group moved forwards once more.

Pepper, Tony's wife, walked ahead of him. She was dragging her feet, her head hung down. Her bright hair spilled around her face. Tony had asked her to cut it - it was safer that way. But she wouldn't let him. She saw it as a connection to who she had been, before everything, and Tony couldn't fault her for wanting to hang on to that.

As he watched, though, Pepper tripped over her feet and landed hard on her knees.

"Pepper!" Tony rushed forwards and knelt beside her, putting one steadying hand on her back. "Are you okay?"

She was shaking her head, and already pushing herself back up. "Fine. I'm fine, Tony."

Tony helped her to her feet, and looked her in the eyes. She looked bone tired, with dark shadows lining her usually bright eyes. Worry wormed its way through Tony's heart. "We can take a break," he said. "Rest for a bit. How's that sound?"

"It's okay," she replied. "I'm fine."

"No, we could all use a break, couldn't we?" Tony glanced over at Rhodey, who was watching from a few feet away. " Couldn't we?"

Rhodey caught on, and said, "Oh, definitely. I'm due for a nap."

"See, Pep? We're all tired."

" No ," Pepper said sharply, brushing off Tony's hand. "We're not stopping."

Tony backed up, hands raised placatingly. "Okay, okay. We'll keep going. Just - we'll take a break later."

She shook her head. "It won't help," she said bitterly.

Tony just looked at her, but she wouldn't meet his gaze. "Okay," he said resignedly.

Pepper turned and started shuffling forwards again. Tony shared a helpless look with Rhodey before the two of them followed her.

Then Clint froze again ahead of them. "There's something coming," he hissed.

Tony raced ahead, and he saw Rhodey pull out his gun and watch the back. Pepper's hand went to the grip of her knife.

"It doesn't sound like a walker," Clint said to Tony once he had gotten close. "The footsteps are too quick. But, I'm not sure."

"What is it then? An animal?" If it was, that was a good sign. That would mean water was nearby. Plus, it would give them a chance for a good meal.

But Clint shook his head. "I don't know. But it might be - look, there!" Fast as a whip, he drew an arrow from his quiver and knocked it in his bow, aiming up ahead and to the left.

Tony's gaze followed, and what he saw made his heart race.

It was a person. An actual, live person.

They hadn't seen another person for weeks. On the road, they'd only seen walkers.

But here was someone alive. They looked worse for wear, but they were definitely alive. The eyes that shot towards them had a desperate spark in them.

And it wasn't just a person — it was a kid. A lanky boy who might've been 14 or 15, with tangled brown hair, a pale face, and sunken cheeks. Blood ran down his temple, and stained his hands.

"Who are you?" Clint called out, bow still raised.

The boy stared at them wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights. They all stared each other down for a moment, and then quick as a shot, the kid turned and ran back into the trees.

"Hey!" Rhodey cried. "Stop!"

Clint brought his bow down sharply. "Should we follow?" he asked Tony.

"That was — that was a kid," Tony said dumbly.

"Exactly. A kid out here alone? He has to have come from somewhere."

Pepper frowned, anger alighting in her eyes. "Are you suggesting we steal from that boy?"

"No," Clint said. "But maybe whoever he's with has enough to share."

"Clint's right," Rhodey said. "We should follow."

Tony was staring off towards where the kid had disappeared. "Okay," he said finally, turning to look at the group. "Let's go." And before Pepper could offer an indignant reply, he continued quickly, "Even if they don't have anything to share, maybe he's somewhere with water. Or there's a town nearby."

Pepper snapped her mouth shut. "Okay," she said.

Tony held her eyes for a moment before he turned back around. "Clint, lead on."

Clint nodded. "Stay close," he said. "And keep your weapons handy. It'll be easier for things to sneak up on us in the trees."

They did as he said, and followed him down into the brush.

As they made their way through the trees, every noise made them twitch. They usually travelled on the road because it was a clear path, and, like earlier, they could usually be ready when a walker showed up.

In the woods, the thick trees hid their line of sight, and it was hard to tell what was rustling the leaves — the wind, or a walker's footsteps.

Tony had to admit though, the forest was pretty. Fall was beginning to show itself in the colors of the leaves.

Autumn had been Tony's favorite season. Now, all he could think about was that it meant winter was coming.

At one point they passed a large shed. Thinking the kid might be inside, they looked through the cracks in the boarded up windows. No one was inside, and they noticed the door had been sealed shut from the outside.

They moved on.

Eventually they came upon a large clearing, and ahead they could see structures - stone walls and brick buildings. It looked like the edge of a small town.

They reached the first street, and Tony was struck by how normal it looked.

Sure, it was still empty of people, and leaves and sticks covered the sidewalks and the ground. But he didn't see any broken widows, or collapsed walls. It just looked like a regular New England town, complete with red and orange fall foliage, and running stone walls.

Then they heard noises from down the street.

Tony caught eyes with Clint, and then Rhodey, and the four of them all crept down the road towards the corner.

There were a few businesses there — a hardware store, a bakery, and a pharmacy. There was movement through the windows of the pharmacy, and then someone broke out through the side door.

It was the kid, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He shot them a wide eyed glance before tearing off down the street.

They made to follow, but he actually didn't go far - just down a few blocks and into a one story house.

Tony got his foot in the door right before it closed, and they pushed their way in.

He was met with the business end of a pistol in his face.

Tony flinched back, eyes wide. Holding the gun was a woman, maybe in her late 20s, with fiery red hair. Even through the grime, she was obviously beautiful — although Tony was having a hard time looking away from the gun.

"Whoa," he said. "Look, we're not —"

But he was cut off with voice from behind him.

"Nat?" Clint breathed, his voice laced with desperation and hope and disbelief.

The woman was staring back at him now, similarly transfixed. Her eyes were wide; shocked. Her face was pale, like she'd seen a ghost, and she slowly put the gun away. Then, her expression broke, and she raced forwards with the broken cry, "Clint!"

They knew each other? Tony was incredibly confused, and his mind fought to understand the situation.

Tony stepped back as the two embraced tightly, holding onto each other with desperation, and as if each was supporting the other from falling. Clint's face tucked into the woman's hair, and Tony could hear his ragged breathing.

The moment felt fragile and sacred, and Tony felt like he was intruding.

When they pulled away from each other, they didn't let go, each holding on as if they expected the other to disappear.

"I can't believe this…" Clint said softly, still obviously shocked. "I—"

"You're alive," the woman said, and Tony could see tears gathering in her eyes.

Tony coughed, and inserted himself into the situation. "You, uh… want to introduce us, Clint?"

Clint's face snapped back around, as if he had forgotten the rest of them were there. His expression still held in disbelief, he blinked and said, "I… this is Natasha. She's — she's family. You can trust her."

When Clint failed to say their names, Tiny spoke up. "Nice to meet you, Natasha. I'm Tony, this is Pepper, and over there's Rhodey." As he said the names, he looked beyond, to the back of the room where a figure lay in a couch. The kid stood beside the couch, and watched them from there, his eyes sharp and calculating.

"How is this possible?" Natasha was saying, eyes still soaking in Clint's face. "At the train station I — god, Clint… I thought you were dead."

"There was another way out," Clint replied. "But you were already gone, and — and," he continued over what was probably going to be an apology, "I don't blame you. I never have. I only ever cared that you got out."

She nodded, holding his gaze a second longer before quirking a smile. "God, it's good to see your ugly face."

Clint chuckled, smiling brighter than Tony had ever seen. "Right back at you. But…" he looked around now, as if searching for someone. Then a shadow crossed his face. "Coulson?" He asked quietly, though it seemed like he already knew the answer.

Natasha's face fell. "Gone," she said, her voice hollow. "Wasn't long after we split up, actually. We were getting supplies, and one of them fell through the ceiling on him." She shook her head bitterly, then looked at Clint, her eyes sharp. "I took care of him," she said. "He's not one of them."

Clint's face was carefully composed, and he nodded stiffly. "Good."

Now Natasha's eyes turned on the rest of them, her expression hard and wary. It looked like she was studying them, taking in everything about them in a single look.

A chill ran down Tony's spine. Somehow, he knew this was a woman you didn't want on your bad side.

"What were you doing just busting your way in here?" Natasha said. "Were they following you?" She directed this question at the kid.

"We were following him," Tony said, and at her angered expression, added, "But we don't want any trouble. A kid on his own — we knew he had to be with other people. And we wanted to find out who those people were. And where they were."

"We've been on the road for weeks," Rhodey said. "We were just looking for a place we could maybe rest."

Clint, seeing Natasha's hesitancy, said, "This is who I've been with. Found them not long after I lost you. We've been through a lot together, and they're good people, Nat. You can trust me on this."

She looked back at Clint, and held his gaze for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay. Well, you can trust us, too," she said. Then, at a noise like a whimper from the other side of the room, she turned and stepped away.

In all the excitement, Tony had almost forgotten about the kid. So too, it seemed, had Clint, who faced the corner with wide eyes.

The kid was looking down at a figure on the couch. It was an unconscious woman, with long dark hair that was matted with sweat. Her face was pale as death, and her breath rattled in her lungs. The boy was holding her limp hand tight in his, his expression desperate and frightened.

"Nat," the boy said, and Tony realized it was the first time he'd heard him speak. "What — what do we do? I grabbed what I could from the store, but there wasn't much left, and I don't know what it all does."

"It's okay, Peter. I'll look through what you grabbed. I'm sure there's something that could help." Here, go rinse these rags out again with cold water."

So, the kid's name was Peter.

Peter did as she said, grabbing the towels and running off with them to the next room.

Rhodey was observing the scene warily. "She's sick," he said.

"Oh? How could you tell?" Natasha said sarcastically, not looking up.

"Is she bit?" Rhodey asked sharply.

Natasha fixed him with an icy cold glare. "No," she said firmly.

"Are you sure?"

" Yes ," she bit out.

Pepper cut in. "Sorry, did you say you have water?"

Natasha turned to face Pepper, and her face softened a little. "Yeah, we do," she said. "In the other room. You can have some, if you need it. We have plenty."

"Thank you," Pepper said, her voice filled with relief and gratitude. "We - we haven't seen water in a while."

"Yeah, I can tell."

"In the next room, you said?"

She nodded and waved her hand in the direction Peter had gone.

Tony followed Pepper across the room. Just as they walked through the doorway, Peter pushed past them. Tony locked eyes with the kid for a moment before letting him through, turning to track his movement back to the couch.

Peter carefully laid the cloths across the woman's forehead, pressing them down with the flat of his hand.

Tony thought that she must be his mother. He felt sorry for the kid - the woman looked terrible and sickly, and not far from death's door, if he was being honest.

The next room was the kitchen. There were cups and bowls on the counters, and on the floor were several jugs like the ones for water coolers, filled to the brim.

"Whoa," Pepper said. "She wasn't kidding. This is a stockpile."

"Not much food, though," Tony commented, gesturing towards the several cans in the corner.

"Maybe they've got more somewhere else."

Tony shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe."

They each filled a few cups with water and brought them back into the other room. Pepper brought one to Rhodey, and as Tony handed one to Clint, he pushed the archer back out the front door, saying, "Come with me."

They walked down the front steps, and Clint grabbed the cup from Tony's outstretched hand. They each drank for a moment, sighing at the feel of fresh water in their mouths.

Then Tony said, "So. This… Natasha. Wild redhead, who aimed a gun at me. You say we can trust her?"

Clint nodded quickly. "I've known her for years. We worked together. There's no one I trust more to have my back." He shrugged. "And, to be fair, we did practically break in to their place."

"Is she gonna let us stay, though? I mean, I've seen what they have in the kitchen. They've got plenty of water, but not much food. We'd make what little they have pass a lot quicker."

"But we can also get more for them a lot easier than they could," Clint reasoned. "She won't send us packing."

"Listen," he added, at Tony's doubtful expression. "She's like a sister to me. She wouldn't let me leave if I tried. And after all we've done together, Tony, we're sticking together, too." He placed a hand on Tony's shoulder. "She'll see what kind of people you are soon."

Tony nodded, and a small smile played across his face. "Thanks, Clint."

Clint returned the nod, squeezing Tony's shoulder before letting go.

"This isn't the most defensible spot, though," Tony added. "I'd rather be on higher ground — a second story, at least."

Clint sighed. "You're right. But, Nat doesn't care for people easily. If she's gotten close enough to these people to try and save this woman, she won't leave them. And that woman doesn't look like she'll be moving anytime soon."

"Are we sure she's not bitten?"

"If Nat says she's not, then she's not."

Tony nodded. "Right. Okay. Uh, I'm gonna stand out here for a minute, I think. Just gonna get my bearings."

"Sure," Clint said. "Don't do anything that'd make me worry about you," he added with a wry smile.

Tony watched him walk back into the house, and then turned to watch the fallen leaves play in the wind, sipping his water.

When he woke this morning, it hadn't felt like today would be any different from any of the days they'd had for the last few weeks. And yet somehow, he knew that everything would be different now.

He wasn't sure yet if that was a good thing or not.

And he was scared to find out.

A/N: Please let me know what you think! This is super fun to write, so there should be more soon.

Also, don't expect this to have a ton of plot - it's just gonna be angsty as hell. I really just wanted to explore how these characters would act in this specific universe.
Thanks for reading!