His face was pressed further into the, now blood soaked, beige carpet. The rubber ridges under the boot digging fiercely into the back of his neck, and by now his lungs burned so hard that his already blurry vision now turned everything in sight into a colored blob. The sticky bristles brushed his cheek as he stared through his cracked glasses and spotted his phone snapped in half just a few feet in front of him, he'd hoped Harry had managed to call the police and send someone to help. The pressure on the back of his neck let up a lanky blob strutted down the steps with a joyous spring to his walk.

"What a score!" His nasally voice called out, though he couldn't be sure of what he heard with all the blood that flooded his left ear.

The pressure was gone completely as the rotund man that had been weighing him down walked over to the other one to assess the earnings. But he wasn't left alone as a pair of hands slid under his armpits and hoisted him up. His sore back cracking and popping from the sudden jerking, and his dazed and spinning mind tried to orient itself to being upright again. A pointless, if not admirable, endeavor. A booted foot slammed into the back of his knee and suddenly laughter erupted around him as he fell into a heap on the sticky carpet.

The laughter grew near as a boot mashed across his face, he whimpered and tried to curl up into a ball but the pain in his limbs was overwhelming and he was quickly stomped upon. His cheeks expanded as the air moved to escape his body, and with a huff his lungs were left deflated, but the air didn't escape alone, no not at all, some blood dripped from his lips and his usually pristine white teeth where pink from the liquid swirling around in his mouth.

His spine shook they surrounded him and began stomping on him like it was some game, one they all wanted to win. The pressure let up as a sudden wave of static erupted from their belts and the began to talk to someone…Razer, they called her Razer.

They looked at each other and snickered before kicking him one last time and ditching the ransacked suburban home in eastern queens. Leaving behind the cold and dead bodies of one elderly couple, the emptied jewelry box of the old hag, the busted open safe of the geezer, and everything worth something that there was in-between. Oh, and lest we forget the body of a ragged twelve-year-old who had been beaten to a pulp and left to die in a heap near the remnants of his beloved family.

His hazel, currently tinted red, eyes scanned the room through the cracked glass on his face. The tears spilled with a pink coloration as he looked at the dent in the forehead of his wonderful aunt, he nearly heaved at the sight of his uncle slumped against the cabinetry with a lead pipe stuck through his chest. He looked to the back window, the faint orange glow of the end of the day spilling into their home. His concentration faltered as he wretched himself the pain shooting through him and finally allowing himself to curl up and continue to cry, as he whimpered he swore he heard the distant sound of sirens getting ever closer.

The pair of red tinted hazel eyes dropped onto a shard of glass, a piece broken off from his glasses, damn. His saw his ragged hair, his bruised face, blood shot eyes, and quivering form. But behind all that he saw something more. Himself, he finally recalled who he was. He, was Peter Benjamin Parker.

The door swung open, he hadn't realized the sirens were so close by, people in dark blue spilled into the home guns drawn and as the first set spilled through the door they stopped. It may not have been the brutalist murder, it may not have been the bloodiest. But the disturbed scene before them of what should have been a peaceful family sent chill and shivers down their spines, a more experienced deputy snapped his fingers and brought his group back to this plane of reality.

"Search the house, get forensics in here now." He said and they snapped to attention before scouring the home.

The blond deputy sighed as he looked the first floor over, nothing stuck out to him as particularly lavish so he couldn't understand why the fucker that did this felt the need to murder the couple. His eyes darted across the room, the carpet had been stained with blood, said crimson liquid was still flowing from the bodies of the elderly couple, his stare came upon the young boy and he felt his chest ache, his thoughts immediately pulling up a picture of Gwen in this scenario. He shuddered before crouching down and freezing.

The boys' eyes moved up to stare into his own, his lips opened and closed and if he listened, if he intently listened, he could hear the pleading words. "Help…"

He quickly stood and grabbed his radio signaling for a paramedic. The static said it would be several minutes and the deputy growled, why hadn't they just brought one along!

And then like a ton of bricks he remembered why, that freak show in green armor spinning up hurricanes was causing major havoc in down town and they couldn't spare a cab now. What a day…

He looked deep into the eyes of the boy before him, the hurt seemingly contagious as he felt his own face churn at the ghost pains he felt. All he could do was wait, and hope that the quickly closing eye lids of the boy before him was him slipping into unconsciousness and not an early death.

-0-

Soft beeping filled his head, a heavy and yet oh so light feeling was draped over him, he stirred and winced as the sting of pain returned and filled him once more. His nose wrinkled as he forced his eyelids open, the room was a sterile white and the scent of disinfectant filled the air. His mouth was dry, his eyes were currently burning, his head was itchy, and the surplus of bandages weighed on him like a bag of bricks.

"Oh…Shit!" Someone exclaimed before slamming their hands on the railing of his bed, the vibration shook the frame and by extension him. His spine rattled and he grunted in pain. His eyes fell to the side where he saw a boy with brownish-orange hair staring at him with glee, his pale green eyes blurred as tears grew in the corners of his eyes and his smile widened like nothing he had ever seen.

"Oh my God Pete, your awake!" he screamed with joy, the loud tone hurt his ears, but before Peter could do anything, like ask him to tone it down he was still suffering over here, he saw the green-eyed boys emerald orbs widen in shock, running across the room he began to push the button for a nurse repeatedly, Peter stared in confusion and if it weren't for the fact that there was a heavy strip of bandages across his forehead he may have even raised an eyebrow at the strange behavior.

After a moment a nurse burst through the door, they glared at the green-eyed boy before realizing Peter was awake and crowded around him.

The nurse and Doctor began running through a routine. And after a physical look over they sighed and set up a stool by the bed-side.

"Hello there, my name is Dr. Orvail. Do you remember your name?" He asked kindly.

Reality struck a chord. No, no he didn't remember his name, he couldn't remember anything at all really. Which made the sting of tears that were flooding his eyes all the stranger. He thought hard for a moment and the earliest things he could recall with clarity where white pages with dark words printed across them, formulas, and equations…but that's it. He remembered waking up and being scared by that brown and orange haired kid with green eyes, but that's it.

Slowly Peter shook his head, the clinks he felt making the action difficult to say the least. His mouth opened but only a moan escaped his lips. The nurse gave him some water and after some light coughing he tried again.

"Sorry Doc, can't say I do…" he responded finally to the shock and horror of the brown-haired kid.

The Doctor Orvail scribbled some notes, and looked at Peter intently before sighing not sure if whether or not he should continue. But protocol demanded.

"Alright how about the date can you tell me that?"

"No."

"Do you recall why you're in the hospital?"

"Not at all, but it feels like I lost a game of chicken with a semi-truck so…"

Orvail sighed before swallowing the lump in his throat, "What about your Aunt and Uncle, your friend there, do you recall anything about them?"

Peter stared at the Doctor thinking hard for a moment before doing his best to shrug without moving, "Sorry…but I really can't remember anything."

Harry balled his fist, his eyes were watering and he hated the feeling that was filling his stomach, his best friend, how could this happen to someone as nice as Peter…He looked up and shared a look with said friend, he saw the emptiness that filled said friend's cranium and the hollow reflection of himself in the boy's hazel eyes it was too much to bare…so he didn't. Instead Harry chose to turn and bolt from the room.

Doctor Orvail and the nurse shared a look before standing, "Alright, we're going to go call your cousin Myra now Peter. She's your new guardian and you'll be staying here for a few days while she makes her way over. Aside from that we'll run any important diagnostics after she arrives."

Peter stared as the group before him left. He was confused, and he was mildly angry. Not having any memories of people or yourself was apparently very frustrating. Groaning Peter laid back down and felt the tendrils of sleep instantly ensnare him and send him under.

-0-

The door swung open and the familiar Doctor with a different nurse and a man in a blue uniform with dark brown overcoat came in.

With a simple nod the medical group left, leaving only a semi-sleepy amnesiac and the captain of the police in the room. George moved around the bed and found the stood Orvail used and plopped down. He stared for a moment at the slowly, very slowly, recovering teen and sighed. He couldn't stop seeing their peaceful faces being brutally bashed inward whilst he slept through his nightmares.

He cleared his throat, "Hey there, my name is George Stacy, I'm the captain of the police and…and I have some questions I was hoping you could answer for me, think you could try?"

Asked the man who sat down on the stool by his bedside.

Peter wanted to lay back and take a nap, his head screaming swears at him to return to the peace of sleep and forget about this crap until he didn't feel like he'd been recently mummified. He nodded with a sad smile.

"D-do you recall what happened on the night you were brought in?"

"No."

"Would you like me to tell you what happened?"

Peter sighed, no he wanted sleep, he wanted peace, and he really wanted some raspberry gelatin…for whatever reason.

"Sure." He shrugged indifferently.

"T-Three months ago…your family was robbed and assaulted. Your Aunt and Uncle didn't make it, and it was a bit of touch and go with you as well. I'm here hoping that you could recall anything about the assailant. Does any of this help?"

Peter had felt a few tears whilst talking with Orvail but the same did not happen again, no he stared dumbfounded at the police captain before sighing and shaking his head.

"Sorry but…I feel like I should feel…bad, or sorry about what happened…but the lack of context, or connection to it other than the pain in my everywhere sort of has me at a loss. I don't think I'll be able to help you." Peter calmly rationalized and Captain Stacy bowed his head.

'Failure! You, fucking failure!' he chastised himself. His hands grabbed fistfuls of his slacks, his heart ached at the thought. He sighed and looked at the boy one more time putting on his best camera smile.

"Well then, I hope you get well soon. And I wish you the best moving forward Mr. Parker."

"Wait a minute!"

George happily froze before looking expectantly at a confused Peter. "Yes?"

"I thought my name was Peter?" He asked, George felt his dread return.

"It is. Your full name is Peter Benjamin Parker."

Peter thought about this for a moment, what a silly name. He chuckled before wincing in pain. He managed to lay back down and returned to sleep, not bothering to say goodbye, as George left the room.

He got down to the lobby and saw Harry weeping into someone's lap, a tall guard lady. Not the prettiest thing in the world but not ugly. He nodded in greeting and she returned it, her hand stroking the head of the boy.

The walk out to the car became an empty blur and he hated the dread that swirled in him. He stopped just outside his car as he saw his daughter leaning against it. Her orange back-pack on the ground, and a white wire that ran from her phone into her ears, her jaw moved up and down and she blew a bright pink bubble.

Smiling he approached the car and patted her head, messing up her hair, and scarring the bejeezus out of the poor girl.

"Christ dad are you trying to scare me half to death?!" She exclaimed picking her bag up and removing her head phones.

Ignoring her protesting he smirked, "Isn't it a little early for school to let out? Why are you at the hospital?" he asked jokingly unlocking the back door so that she could hop in. he mimicked this and quickly started the car.

"That green guy showed up on the school block and tore stuff up, after he left we were let out early, me and Jean were gonna walk home but she had some stuff come up. So, then I remembered you said you'd be stopping by to check on Peter." She frowned recalling the name of her friend who had been gone for so long, "Meaning if I caught you I could so bum a ride home!"

George smirked as he pulled into traffic and began the drive to their apartment building.

-0-

Peter awoke as the sun rose and peered through his window like some obsessively creepy perverted stalker type.

Gnawing on his lip Peter looked over to see a nurse walk in, behind her followed a tall woman with brown hair that was dyed blue at the ends.

"Oh my god…" She gasped at seeing me, she quickly rushed over and threw herself onto me, the hug was warm but the pain running down my back was hell on earth.

"Miss. Merri please ease up he is still recovering." The nurse said walking over and separating us.

Peter stared up at her and blinked, "Umm, hey there. My names Peter, what's yours?"

She swallowed, and passed a tongue over her dry lips, "Peter, I-I'm your Uncle Ben's cousin, I-I'm Myra, I'm your new guardian." She explained.

Peter shrugged, "Oh, okay."

Tears welled up in Myra's eyes and she quickly wiped them away. "I-I wanted to talk to you about some things…if you're feeling up to it."

Peter once again shrugged, at this point the Nurse went off, hopefully to fetch breakfast because Peter was starving.

"They told me you have amnesia, I-I still can't believe it, I saw them not one week before it happened." She cried out burying her face in Peter's lap, he hesitantly patted her back, having seen a movie late last night where someone did the exact same thing. It didn't work as well as it had in the movie to comfort the crying girl.

"I needed to tell you that…that my job has me traveling a lot, so I purchased an apartment for you to stay at and I opened a bank account to give you a monthly allowance, and I'll have one of my assistants stop by and check on you every day!" She rambled off a list of things for Peter, who needless to say didn't understand it all and didn't really care.

He nodded along, trying to pick the important bits out from the emotional mess that cried before him.

Finally, she was done, and he had some breakfast placed before him. Sadly, no raspberry gelatin for him.

-0-

A/N:

My newest story! Yes a Spider-man tale of what could've been. We need more of these in my honest opinion. This one gets a little lemon-y in a few chapters but thats just something to stave the boredom until I get to some more ineresting character items in the after chapters. Like any story patience is key...even if somethings in this story are moving faster than light speed...

Thanks for reading!