Chapter 1
The first thing he notices is the pain. A sharp stabbing in his head. A throbbing in his side. A busted bottom lip. A burning on his wrists.
The second thing is the cell. The walls are an ugly gray concrete with matching floors and a single cheap fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling. Peter squints against the harsh light, trying to adjust, despite it making the stabbing in his head worse. He pulls weakly at his wrists to find them tied behind his back and the stinging in his wrists worsens.
Rope?
That makes no sense. Peter can break rope...
Drugs? Explains the headache, and why he can't remember how he got here.
He's wide awake now, taking in his surroundings. No windows, a single metal door, blood on the floor, bound by his wrists and ankles in a wooden chair, freezing cold and still in his suit, now shredded from a fight he can’t remember. Only then does he notice the third thing in the cell, the most unsettling thing in here, that makes his heart sink.
Mr. Stark.
Only, he isn’t awake, and he looks worse than Peter feels. He is bound in the same fashion as Peter and in the same chair setup. His suit is nowhere to be seen, his hair matted with dirt and blood, a stream of dried blood ran down his temple, his left arm hanging a little too loose from his shoulder, and his bottom lip bled, busted as well.
"Mr. Stark," He tries to call out to him, but it comes out more of a hoarse groan. He tries again. "Mr. Stark?" He's panicking. Again, louder this time, "Mr. Stark!"
To Peter's relief, the older man groans and stirs slightly. He watches him go through the same steps Peter did, hurt, confusion, looking around him, then finally, finally, raising his head to meet Peter's eyes, his own widening in horror.
"Kid," Is all he can rasp out before the door groans on it's hinges and two men enter.
The first one, a tall man with a sharp jawline dressed in an all black fitted suit, clean black hair and dark sunglasses, is holding Peters mask in his hand. The second, a very fit, shorter man with the same suit, wearing a black mask and matching beanie, is holding what Peter could only assume was a black ak-47. (I know literally nothing about guns, don't come for me.) Must be some sort of security/henchmen. Whoever this guy is, he gives Peter the feeling he knows what he is doing and, judging by the look on Tony's face, he thinks so too. Tony’s jaw tightens, and Peter sees him make some kind of connection.
"Anthony." The man's voice is flat and calm with a bitterness he can’t quite place.
"Blackwell." Tony responds, matching his tone.
So they know each other?
"I knew you liked your little pet's young but I was pretty fucking shocked to find a child under the mask. That The Amazing Spider Man was nothing but a boy." He throws Peter's mask down at Tony's feet, who never breaks eye contact with Blackwell.
"Leave him out of this, it's between us. Whatever you want you can have, just let him go." Mr. Stark pleads.
"Begging already? That's not the Anthony I remember. We both know money isn't something you can throw at this problem, seeing as my problem is him," He motions to Peter.
"How could this possibly be about him!" Tony spits, a hatred Peter had never heard before.
"Because you two geniuses have been causing me way too many close calls, so I need to split you up. Be thankful, had he been a little older, I would have been just fine killing him and sending you home but, obviously, this is a special case. So, I'm giving you an option. My friends at HYDRA have been kind enough to lend me a little brain washing technology. I'm sure you're familiar. One of you will be wiped completely of your memories of the other. As far as who, well, I'll leave that up to you. You have fifteen minutes." He is smiling, a smile that gives Peter a sick feeling.
The room takes on a dense silence as the two process the information, and the two finally make eye contact as it sinks in, realizing what choice had to be made. Content with the shock, Blackwell walks out with the guard in tail, locking the door behind him. The room remains silent. Nothing seems appropriate.
"Mr. Stark... Who was that?" Peter's voice wavers, eyes already starting to water at the thought of either one of them losing their memories. There was a way to get out of this, right? Mr. Stark must have a plan.
But Mr. Stark just sighs before answering.
"It doesn't matter. I need you to listen to me, kid. I can't ask you to do this, okay? This is all my fault and it needs to be me. I don't deserve you Pete, it's only fair." His voice cracked at the end, fighting back tears.
It sinks in, the reality. There isn’t a way out. A decision must be made, and Mr. Stark just told Peter he would give up his own memories and knowledge of Peter.
The fifteen minutes suddenly seems like mere seconds.
"No! Mr. Stark, I don't care what you say, none of this is your fault. I don't want you to forget about me... You're all I have." He starts crying now, and Tony's heart breaks.
"I know, kiddo, you're all I have too. But Peter, you'll still have our memories. I'll still be in your heart, even if I don't remember it." He's trying his best to convince him, but Peter is already justifying his decision in his own mind.
Maybe it is selfish, but now that Peter had Tony in his life, he doesn’t want to live without him. But you can't miss someone you don't remember… Besides, Tony could find a way to fix this, right...?
"I can see your head spinning, kid. Stop. I've already made up my mind." Tony stated, panic obvious in his voice.
"So have I." Peter stops crying and the tears turn to pale, vertical streaks on his face.
"Peter, I can't believe you're even considering this right now. It's gonna be me, it has to be me." He's pleading with a fear that scared Peter. "You don't have to do this."
"Yes, I do. I simply can't live without you." Peter whispers, just loud enough for Tony to hear.
“Are you kidding me?” Tony asks, catching Peter off guard.
“Without me, you’ve always and always will be the bravest, strongest, most honest kid - and, hero, I know.”
Peter opened his mouth to protest but Tony went on before he could.
“You’ve got integrity and you don’t rely on the people around you to be a good person. I don’t need to know you for you to be good, and just know that regardless of whether I remember it or not, you’re the best person I know.”
Peter is waiting for the knot in his throat to go away before he tries to talk, so Tony gets the opportunity to speak again.
“Besides, even when I can’t remember you, do you really think Happy’s gonna let me be the same idiot I was the first time around? Not a chance. Pepper’s gonna have you over every night, and I don’t doubt one bit that this time will run smoother than the first time.”
Peter notices how Tony switched tenses, as if the decision has been made up. He thinks about Germany, the ferry incident, and every time he’d ever felt like a disappointment to the man. Sure, Mr. Stark forgetting those would be a pro, but not worth it at all. He won’t let that happen.
But the decision hasn’t been made, there is still time to decide.
Peter won’t let Tony forget him, he couldn’t.
“Please Mr. Stark, we both know that you could help me if they choose me, much, much more than I’d be able to help you if they make you forget me.”
“That’s not true.”
“Is too, and you know it. Besides, I’ve already lost two father figures, I can’t--”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” Tony cuts him off, a hint of anger in his voice. “I just told you, you won’t be losing me. You’re already a part of the family and it would take more than my memory for you to be taken away.”
“You don’t know that,” Peter argues. “You hated me at first. You only reached out because I could help. I know I annoyed you. If you didn’t want me in your life then, there’s no guarantee I’d be in it the second time around. Whereas you know I’d love meeting you just as much as I did the first time. It would be easy replacing me with, uh, future me.” Peter voice gets quieter as his thought ends.
Tony opens his mouth to argue but the door swinging open catches their attention.
"Have we made up our minds?" Blackwell brought two guards with him this time, glancing impatiently at his silver watch.
"Me," they both say in unison.
"Oh good, a hero." His voice drips with sarcasm.
Both of them open their mouths to argue, but Blackwell cuts them off, patience worn thin.
"Why don't I leave it up to you?" He turns towards Peter, eyes dark, "Can't say I don't love the irony, seeing as you're the reason for all my trouble. So what's it gonna be, kid? Your call."
"Peter don't you dare." Tony's voice is more fearful than angry.
Peter had already weighed his options. Already made up his mind. Time seemed to stop, everyone waiting on him. His heart grows tight before:
"I'll do it."
"No!"
But Tony’s protests are in vain, and the second those words leave his mouth, the guards are on him. They pick him up by his arms, dragging him away from Tony who is screaming for them to stop. Peter makes eye contact with him before he goes through the door just long enough to let Tony know;
"I love you."
Leaving him yelling alone in the cell. Peter is dragged off and strapped into a chair surrounded by scientists and machines. He doesn’t fight. Doesn’t care enough to try, not if it meant Tony is okay… he will be. He’s Tony Stark, after all.
A mouth guard is pushed between his lips. He can only think of Tony, could only hope Blackwell keeps his promise and lets Tony go after this. A metal helmet is pulled around his head but Peter isn’t thinking about it. He can’t. He just keeps Tony on his mind as he accepts his fate, and hopes Tony comes to accept it too.
Tony.
Blinding pain.
Then nothing.