AN: Hey guys! Sorry this one took so long. I saw Infinity War and spent, like, a hundred years just suffering under a blanket of feels. JUST FYI, I WILL NOT PUT SPOILERS IN THE AUTHOR'S NOTES OR THE STORY. THIS IS A SPOILER FREE ZONE. PLEASE DO NOT SPOIL THE MOVIE IN THE COMMENTS! If you want to SCREAM with me, feel free to message me on Tumblr or Instagram (same username as on here: losingmymindtonight). MY INSTAGRAM IS SPOILER FREE BUT MY TUMBLR IS NOT. I tag all my spoilers with "iw spoilers" "spoilers" and "infinity war spoilers" so make sure you have those blacklisted if you're avoiding anything.
ANYWAY: thank you so much for all your reviews on the last chapter! As always, I write this because you guys want to consume it. Hopefully, you'll love this new update just as much as I do.
The boy passed all his tests.
He dropped every man they put in front of him in hand-to-hand. He hacked every system and solved every equation. He took every beating, every reprimand, with stoic acceptance.
Sir told him he was almost ready. The boy didn't know for what.
"Come here, soldier." The boy walked up to Sir and made sure to drop his eyes respectfully. He learned the hard way what happened if you looked Sir in the eyes.
"Yes, Sir?"
"Are you ready for your mission?"
("When's our next "retreat," you know?"
"What, next mission?"
"Yeah, the mission. The missions.")
The boy hid the flash of a memory behind a facade of indifference. Sir didn't like it when he remembered. He'd learned that the hard way, too.
"Yes, Sir."
"Good boy. Your job is to apprehend the Avengers and take out a threat known as Iron Man. We're creating a distraction to draw him out. All you need to do is eliminate your target. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Do not fail."
The boy swallowed.
I will not fail.
A month had passed since Peter… since Peter...
Tony didn't want to think about it.
He'd had May moved to a safe house. Told her that Peter was in one, too. The billionaire had made up some bullshit about threats to Spider-Man and his family made by a terrorist group.
He didn't tell her that their kid was gone.
Tony was sitting on the couch, staring at the blank TV, when Steve sat down next to him.
"I don't think we're going to find him, Tony."
"We have to."
The soldier gave a sympathetic sigh. It made Tony feel sick. "At this point, I don't think there's even a body to find, Tony. Please, we have to be rational about this. I know you're hurting, but we can't keep May in the dark for-"
The Compound's alarm blared.
Tony leapt to his feet, feeling sickly grateful for the interruption. He was getting tired of his teammates treating him like he was broken. "F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Talk to me."
"It appears that a squadron of armed men are making an attempt to penetrate the Compound."
The suit was already materializing around him. "How many?"
"A dozen."
He laughed. "Just twelve? They're going to take on the entire Avengers with just twelve men?"
"There appears to be two more men stationed in their vehicle. From my bioscans, I believe that one of them may be enhanced."
"Wonderful." Tony landed heavily on the roof. Beside him, Clint notched an arrow and squinted at the approaching men. He could see Steve and Natasha on the ground below. Rhodey flew up beside him an instant later.
"Why so few?" Rhodey asked, shaking his head. "I don't like this. It's too bold."
"Be cautious." Steve ordered. "Natasha and I will try to scatter them from the ground. Tony, Rhodey, and Vision will stick to the sky. Clint, do your thing."
"Aye aye, Captain." Clint smirked.
"Well," Tony blasted towards the black figures, "let's go meet our guests, shall we?"
The fight was piteously easy. The twelve men were down in minutes. But then, as Tony stalked towards the armored vehicle in order to incapacitate the enhanced, he slid out of the car.
And just like that, the man who killed his kid was standing right in front of him.
It must be fucking Christmas.
"Mister Stark." The man smiled, spreading his arms wide. "How are you?"
Tony snarled. He couldn't feel anything other than bloodlust rushing through his veins. This man had snuffed our Peter's future without even a flicker of remorse. Because of him, that kid would never graduate. He's never get his first kiss. He'd never go to college. He'd never have a kid of his own.
Because of that man, Tony would never hold his kid again.
Cap and the others were all congregating in the background, but no one made a move to stop him as he stalked towards the car. He could hear Rhodey's harsh breathing through the comms.
The man seemed completely unfazed by the entirety of the Avengers staring at him with murder in their eyes. "I have a present for you."
A mix of dread and longing curled in his chest.
Peter. He had Peter's body.
"Come on out now, will you?"
When the kid slid out of the vehicle, Tony's brain short circuited.
If he hadn't been wearing the suit, he would have crumbled to the ground in a heap of grief and shock. It was Peter. Peter, who was very much alive.
Peter.
He had a second chance. He could tell the kid he loved him. He could hold him in his arms and brush those ridiculous curls out of his face. He could watch the kid he loved as if he were is own grow into the amazing man he was destined to be.
But then he really looked at Peter, and his heart plummeted.
The kid was dressed in the same black uniform the other soldiers had worn. A bulletproof vest was fit tightly around his ribcage, and a fucking handgun hung from a holster at his hip. He looked wrong in the color. Peter was vibrancy. He was nerdy science tees and his red and blue Spider-Man suit. He wasn't meant for shades of gray.
"Peter." He breathed, and something cracked in his soul when he looked into his kid's eyes.
They were empty. Glassy. There wasn't a single spark of Peter in their depths. He looked vacant.
Like someone had sucked him out, and stuffed a soldier in.
The leader turned to Peter, and the kid's gaze dropped straight to the ground. Everything about his posture was submissive. It made Tony feel sick. "Do you remember your mission?"
"Yes, Sir." There wasn't an ounce of Peter's usual exuberance in that tone. It was lifeless. It was hopeless.
"Good boy." Good boy, as if Peter was a dog. "Then execute."
Peter moved towards Tony wordlessly. "Peter?" The billionaire retracted the faceplate quickly. His fingers itched to pull the kid close and to smooth that dirty, errant curl from his face. If he could just hold him, Tony could pull him back to himself. He knew it. "Peter, buddy. Are you in there?"
The kid didn't falter. He swung a fist at his mentor's face, and the man stumbled backward in shock.
"Kiddo? Kiddo, it's me. It's Tony." He blocked another blow. "God, Peter. You're alive." Despite the situation, Tony felt like he might ignite with happiness. Peter was alive. They could fix this. As long as he was alive, Tony could fix him. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you, kiddie. I've missed you."
The kid snarled. The feral expression was grotesque on his innocent face. "Shut up."
Tony ignored him. "I'm so sorry I couldn't find you, Peter. I'm so, so sorry. I know I promised. I know you must be scared." He stumbled back as the kid drove his knee against the suit's stomach plate. "You have to remember, Peter. You have to remember what happened." The billionaire allowed himself a brief moment of weakness as he pleaded. "You have to remember me, buddy."
Peter faltered. Tony caught his arm as the teenager aborted a punch and tugged him into a tight embrace that was more confining than comforting. Oh well. They'd get there.
The kid was struggling, but not harshly. Tony took that as a good sign. He pressed his cheek against the kid's head and whispered to him. "I've got you, Peter. They aren't going to take you away from me again. You're safe. You're safe."
Peter froze. Tony could feel every muscle in the kid's body tense.
The billionaire closed his eyes and let the words that had been richochetting around in his head for a month slip out. "I love you too, kiddo. Just so you know. I love you too."
Peter was shaking, and Tony could feel his heart breaking at causing the kid so much agony. But he couldn't back down. He needed Peter to remember.
"Peter, please. Just relax. Let me help you."
The kid quivered. There was a strange hitch in his breath as he stared forward sightlessly.
"Peter? Can you hear me? I don't know what they did to you, but I'm going to fix it, okay? You're going to be alright. Just stop fighting."
Somehow, his words acted like a switch. Peter slumped backwards, his head rolling onto Tony's shoulder. The billionaire could just see the side of his face as the kid's eyes fixed blearily on the sky.
"Finish the mission." The leader snarled. The sudden voice made him jump. Tony was so focused on Peter that he forgot that there were other people around them. When he glanced up at the man who had taken everything from him, he felt a rush of satisfaction to see that he looked afraid.
Time seemed to still for a moment. Peter leaned into Tony's chest and blinked slowly at the passing clouds. Then, he tore out of his mentor's grasp, and went straight for the kill.
The boy slid out of the armored truck, and surveyed the situation absently.
The other soldiers were all down, but that was okay. Sir had told him that that would happen. He told he boy that all they needed was him.
His eyes landed on Iron Man. His mission.
"Peter."
The boy had heard that name before. For some reason, he just couldn't place where. As soon as he started to feel frustration rise in his chest, it slid away like a distant sunset.
Sir spoke to him. "Do you remember your mission?"
The boy adopted the posture he knew Sir liked. "Yes, Sir."
"Good boy." The boy felt a flash of relief. He obeyed, so Sir was happy. It was never good for the boy if Sir wasn't happy. "Then execute."
He stepped towards Iron Man.
"Peter?" There was that name again. The faceplate on the suit folded away, and the boy felt a strange twist in his gut as he surveyed the man's features. "Peter, buddy. Are you there?"
He hated that name. That name made him want to disobey, to think, to remember. We threw a fist at the man's face, but he dodged it easily. For some reason, he hadn't put nearly enough force behind the swing. Why not? What was wrong with him?
"Kiddo? Kiddo, it's me. It's Tony." Another name. This one hurt, too. The boy wanted to scream. "God, Peter. You're alive." Why did the man sound so happy? Couldn't he see that the boy was going to kill him? "You have no idea how glad I am to see you, kiddie. I've missed you."
I'vemissedyouI'vemissedyouI'vemissedyou.
A memory. Vague and distorted and painful.
("He's been screaming for you, Mister Stark. Begging for Iron Man to come save him. But you didn't come, did you? You left him all alone.")
The kid snarled. No. He didn't want to remember. "Shut up."
But the man didn't. "I'm so sorry I couldn't find you, Peter. I'm so, so sorry. I know I promised. I know you must be scared. You have to remember what happened. You have to remember me, buddy."
("Kid! Kid, listen to me. I'm going to find you. Whatever they do, remember that I'm coming, okay? I'm coming.")
The man sounded afraid. But not of Peter. No. The man was afraid for Peter.
Suddenly, he was being tugged against a solid chest, and another memory flashed in front of his eyes.
("It's not a hug. I'm just grabbing the door for you. We're not there yet.")
God, it hurt. He tried to get free, but some previously dormant instinct reared up and filled him with a bizarre desire to just slump back into the man's arms and let everything else drift away.
"I've got you, Peter. They aren't going to take you away from me again. You're safe. You're safe."
("He's gonna find you. He's gonna find you and he's gonna kill you.")
"I love you too, kiddo. Just so you know. I love you too."
("I-I'm s-sorry, T-Tony. I'm sorry. Tell… tell Aunt May I love her. I-I love you, too. I love you. A-and… th-thank you. F-for everything.")
I know him.
How did he know him? The boy didn't like this. He didn't like thinking. He just wanted to obey. He just wanted to be good.
But… but I know him.
"Peter, please. Just relax. Let me help you."
PeterPeterPeter.
The man said that name, and the boy nearly collapsed as his chest filled with something other than forced apathy. Warmth. Protection. Love.
The boy loved this man.
("I-I love you, too. I love you.")
Why? Who was he?
"Peter? Can you hear me?" He could, but for some reason his mouth wasn't his to command. "I don't know what they did to you, but I'm going to fix it, okay? It's going to be alright. Just stop fighting."
The boy could feel every ounce of resistance slide out of him. In a way, it reminded him of how it felt when Sir gave him a dose of the drug. But this wasn't frightening. The boy was always frightened when he felt the ice rush through his veins and cloud his thoughts. No, this was different. This was warm and safe and right.
Sir's voice sounded muffled through the cotton in the boy's ears. He sounded… worried? "Finish the mission."
The boy shook his head. He didn't want to hurt this man. He couldn't hurt this man.
He was afraid of Sir. Sir hurt him. But the man holding him… something deep inside the boy was telling him to close his eyes and let the man handle everything. This man would protect him from Sir.
The boy didn't know much of anything, anymore, but he knew that fact as sure as he knew that the sun would rise.
No more tests. No more drugs. No more pain.
No more.
The boy lunged out of the man's embrace and seized Sir by the throat.
Within seconds, the man's arms were hauling him away and someone strong yanked Sir out of his grasp. He was suddenly on the ground, but he didn't feel afraid. This wasn't like the times the boy would collapse from exhaustion or hunger and Sir would have the other soldiers beat him. This was nice. This was warm. This was safe.
He was laying in the man's lap. His hands were fumbling with the boy's holster. As soon as the gun was free, he flung it far into the distance. When the boy's gaze refocused on his face, he saw that the man was crying. The boy didn't like that. It felt wrong.
"Oh, Peter. Peter."
He kept saying that name. The boy thought he knew what it was, but needed to know for sure.
"Is-am I Peter?"
A strangled sob tore out of the man's throat. "Yes. You're Peter. My Peter."
My Peter.
Peter. His name was Peter.
Suddenly, the man's hand was in his hair. The touch was gentle. He had forgotten what it was like for someone to touch him gently. It triggered some visceral reaction in the boy, and he felt himself sinking into the man's touch as his eyes fluttered shut.
The man was rocking them now. One hand kept up its ministrations at his hairline while the other was brushing a calloused thumb across his cheekbone. The boy (my name is Peter) hummed contentedly. He felt like something in his chest had slotted into place. He felt safe.
He liked it.
The man was talking. Peter let the words flow over him, soaking up every inflection and syllable greedily. "I'm right here, kiddo. I'm going to fix this. Your name is Peter. My name is Tony, but you call me Mister Stark. Your name is Peter. Do you remember that, Peter?"
That was a question. The boy had to answer questions. He peeled his heavy eyes open and sluggishly averted his gaze. "No, Sir."
"Look at me, kiddo." An order. The boy followed those. He met the man's fearful eyes. "Don't call me that, okay? Now, tell me your name."
"P-Peter." It felt good in his mouth. Familiar.
The man gave him a brilliant smile. "That's it. Your name is Peter."
"Peter." He whispered the word reverently. "Mister Stark. Tony."
He liked the names. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt in control.
"That's right, buddy. Peter. Tony."
Suddenly, a second face appeared over the man's, Tony's, shoulder. The boy panicked, clutching desperately for the safety of the man as his breathing spiked.
The second man winced, but addressed Peter's man (Mister Stark? Tony?) steadily. "Tony? I think we need to restrain him."
Tony whipped his gaze away from the boy and tightened his grip around him with a snarl. "What the fuck, Steve?"
The other man, Steve, raised his hands placatingly. "We found a remote on the guy. Remember that implant you talked about? Bruce thinks the remote controls a drug release. We don't know what's in his system, and Bruce needs to examine him. He tried to kill you, Tony. We can't risk it."
"Is the drug why he doesn't remember anything?"
"Bruce thinks so."
"That's not good enough. We need to know for sure."
"Natasha has the leader. Give her ten more minutes, and he'll sing." Steve's hand brushed the man's shoulder. "Let us do what we need to do, Tony. To keep both Bruce and Peter safe. Please."
The man gave a shaky breath. "Do you have them?"
"The restraints? Yes. Do you want me to do it?"
"No. I will." The man took the metal cuffs from Steve. "These'll hold him?"
"They'd hold me."
"Okay." Steve disappeared, and the man gave Peter a shaky smile. "I've going to put these on your wrists, alright? I know it's scary, but I just need you to relax and trust me."
Trust. Did he trust him? Yes. He did. He trusted the man. He trusted Tony.
The boy pressed his hands together and offered them to the man. He thought it might make him happy, but for some reason Tony just flinched back before sliding the cuffs into place, checking repetitively that they weren't too tight. "Good job, buddy. I promise we'll get these off soon."
The next few minutes passed in a blur. Tony scooped him up and carried him across the lawn, into an elevator, and then into a large, white room. Another man was waiting for them there.
"Hey there, Peter." The new man said. This one knew him, too? "It's nice to see you."
Before the boy could formulate an answer, Tony was settling him onto a bed and talking. "Can you take the implant out, Bruce?"
"Yes." The new man, Bruce, said. "But I can't sedate him."
"I'm sorry." Tony sounded dangerous. "You want to dig into my kid's arm without sedation?"
My kid. The boy was Tony's kid? Yeah. That sounded right.
"I can't risk a drug interaction, Tony! It could kill him. Steve's coming. He'll hold him down while you keep him calm. I think I'll be able to do it quickly. Once it's out, we can start on flushing the drugs from his system."
The man took a steady breath before turning to talk to the boy. "Alright, Peter. This is gonna suck, but I promise it'll be over quick, okay?"
The boy blinked. "My name is Peter."
Tony gave the boy an indulgent smile. "Yeah, buddy. You've got it."
"And you're my… dad?"
The man choked on a breath. "No, kiddo. I'm not your dad."
That didn't make any sense. The boy loved this man. This man protected him. He knew that. He could feel it in his bones. "No. No. No. You-what-how-"
Tony brushed his knuckles down the boy's cheek. "Shh, Peter. Don't worry about it, okay?"
The big man, Steve, slid into the room. Tony gestured for him to come closer. "Alright. Let's get this over with."
Steve produced another set of metal restraints and offered them to Tony wordlessly. The man took them with a look of disgust. "I'm sorry about this, buddy, but I'm going to cuff your wrists to the bed now, okay?" He waited until Peter nodded before disengaging the current set of bonds and fastening both of Peter arms to the metal bed frame. As soon as he was finished, Steve gripped the boy's elbow and wrist in surprisingly gentle hands and twisted the limb so that his scarred forearm was exposed. Tony stayed by his head, brushing soothing fingers through his curls while the other man (Bruce?) started wiping his skin with an alcohol swab.
"I'm going to numb the arm, but I'm not sure how effective it'll be. I'll go as fast as I can."
"Do you understand what's about to happen, Peter?" Tony caught his eyes. "Bruce is going to take out that implant. It's probably going to hurt, but you need to stay still."
The boy was used to pain. He knew pain. Pain was familiar. "Okay."
There was a small prick in his arm, and then numbness began spreading out from the point. Tony glanced back and Bruce before raising an eyebrow at the boy. "Ready?"
"Yes, S-" The boy stopped himself suddenly, but not soon enough to stop the swoop of sadness that fell over the man's face. "Yes."
"Do it, Bruce."
Peter didn't flinch once as Bruce pulled the implant from his arm.
Tony knew it hurt. He could tell because Bruce looked baffled at the kid's stony expression. But all Peter did was stare up at the ceiling with glassy eyes. The billionaire talked to him, but he was pretty sure the teenager didn't actually hear any of it.
"It's out."
There was a soft clang as the scientist dropped the implant onto one of the mobile medical tables and moved to stitch and bandage the incision. Tony didn't even spare it a second glance.
"You hear that, Peter?" He waved a hand over Peter's face. The kid's gaze trailed over to his face lazily. Tony's heart pounded. "You with me?"
"Yes, Sir."
"I told you not to call me that. Remember?"
"No, Sir."
"Bruce?" The billionaire glanced at the scientist with panic in his eyes.
"The drug is probably messing with his short term memory. He'll become more coherent as the drugs fade, although he might not remember much from the past month."
Good. I hope he forgets it all.
Steve voiced the question Tony hadn't even though to ask. "What now?"
"I'll hook him up to some fluids to help flush out whatever's left in his system. Then, we wait."
We wait.
AN: If you think it's over, it's not.