Peter had been awake for some time, the only sounds being his heavy breathing. Darkness surrounded him, so dense that he couldn't see anything. He twisted around, trying to catch a glimpse of something, anything. His head jerked back around when he heard the groan. It sounded a lot like...

"Mr Stark?"

------------

Tony's eyes fluttered open, and blinked at the darkness.

Then he heard a quiet, scared voice. "Mr Stark?"

His eyes shot up at the sound. "Peter? Are you okay?"

Peter exhaled heavily. "Yeah, I'm- yeah. I'm okay."

He could hear Tony's breathing, but nothing else.

"Mr Stark? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm okay, kid."

A small light flickered to life, bathing the room in a cold glow.

Peter inhaled sharply.

"You're hurt."

Tony's face was pale, blood streaking the side. His eyes were sad, holding little reassurance. "It's okay, kid." He said quietly. "I'm okay."

"I dont know about that."

The speaker moved forward, out of the shadows, pressing a syringe against Tony's neck.

"Let him go!" Peter spat, hands pulling at his restraints.

"I don't think I will. After all, what is the fun of torturing his child if he isn't there to witness it?"

Peter took a deep breath. "I'm not his kid. I'm just an intern."

The laugh echoes around the room, bouncing off the walls.

"Not his kid, hmm? We'll see about that."

He crossed the room, his steps silent, until he was standing over the teenager, leering at him.

"Ah, how the tables have turned, eh Stark?" He caressed the side of Peter's face as the boy shuddered, leaning away.

"You took everything from me. Now I will take everything from you."

He stabbed the needle into the side of Peter's neck, and instantly he was engulfed in pain.

-----------

Peter's screams rang through the room, each one more agonized than the last.

Tony struggled desperately, wanting nothing more than to stop Peter's pain.

"Stop!" He yelled. "He's just a kid!"

The man bared his teeth in a grin.

"He isn't your child. Why do you care?"

"No. He isn't my child. But I care about him as if he was. Let him go."

"If he isn't your child, why do you care?"

Tony took a deep breath, trying not to show his terror. "Let him go or I swear I will kill you."

Peter's screaming abruptly stopped, and he slumped down, sobs shaking his frail body.

"I think that's enough for the moment."

The man left, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Pete, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

After several seconds, Peter's sobs grew fainter.

"Peter? Can you hear me? Please answer me kid."

Peter didn't answer, his sobs muffled.

"It's gonna be okay, Pete."

------------

"Mr Stark? Mr Stark, can you hear me? Please wake up."

Tony opened his eyes slowly. He lifted his head, and tried to lift his arm. Pain coursed through his body at the movement. He stifled a groan.

Peter sighed. "You're okay. I was worried."

Tony met his eyes, searching for signs of pain, and was relieved when there were none.

"What happened?"

Peter stiffened. "You don't remember?"

Tony frowned. "Remember what?"

Peter shook his head.

"Nothing."

------------

Tony woke to the dripping of water. He lifted his head, pain flaring, and tried to focus. Eventually he realized he was in a small space, with water covering the floor. He pushed himself up, ignoring the pain that seemed to accompany every motion, and opened the door.

------------

Peter looked up from where he was sitting. His mentor(father figure) stumbled out, his hands groping blindly for support.

Peter longed to rush over and help him, but he stayed put.

"Tony." His voice is little more than a whisper, but Tony hears it anyway. His head shoots up. "Pete?"

Tony hobbled over, sinking to the floor in front of Peter, noticing the flinch, and the way Peter ducks away. "Pete? What's wrong?"

Peter looked up. "No touching. They won't allow it. Last time..." his voice trails off.

Tony sighed. "Last time. I'm guessing they wiped me?"

Peter hesitantly nods. "There's something they give you. You won't even remember this."

His voice breaks, and he has to turn away so Tony can't see his tears.

"Pete..." Tony murmurs. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to have to go through this."

Peter remained where he was, back to Tony. "I know." His voice is little more than a whisper.

"Peter. Please, look at me." Peter shakes his head. "It's too painful. Every time I look at you, it reminds me that they're just going to try and make you break. They're going to hurt me because they have some stupid, messed up idea that hurting me will get to you."

Tony rested his head against the wall. "They're right. It hurts. Worse than anything. I can't watch you get hurt. I care about you, kid. More than you can know."

Peter was silent for several seconds.

"You don't have to pretend to make me feel better. I can deal with this."

Tony moved as close as he could to Peter. "Peter, please. Look at me."

Peter rolled over, and Tony was shocked to see the pain in his eyes, along with the wetness.

Taking a deep breath, Tony leaned forward. "Pete, I love you like a son. I'm not just trying to make you feel better. You are the one thing that keeps me sane."

There's hope in Peter's eyes when they meet Tony's. "Can I call you dad?" He asks softly.

Tony nodded, not trusting his voice. He finally found it. "Of course. Of course Pete."

Peter took a deep breath, pulling away, and wiping his eyes. "They're coming. You're not going to remember any of this, but thanks... dad."

Their prisoner entered the room, leering at the two figures. "Hello my lovelies. Are you ready to talk?" Tony glared at him. "What do you want?"

"I should think you know that, Stark." His voice is lower than normal. "You tried to kill me. And you shut down my company."

Tony frowned. "I don't recall that. Sorry. You'll have to refresh my memory."

Their captor chuckled. "Timothy Blake. You don't remember me? Good. You won't remember anything after we're done with you."

Peter shakes his head numbly. "Not again. Please. Not again."

Tony looks over at Peter, his heart breaking once again at the pain on his face. "Remember what I said."

Then everything is gone.

-------------
Months later

Peter stared blankly at the wall, mindlessly muttering. His eyes, once bright with life, were dull, tired, and old.

He couldn't remember life before this prison, these walls, the same, bland meal every day, the pain. Oh the pain. Sometimes he wonders if death wouldn't be better.

The last time he had seen another human being was a week ago, when the people brought in an older man. He had broken down upon seeing the boy, and Peter didn't understand why. Did he know him?