(Freezing To Death) - I'll Always Come Back To You
“That’s it, buddy! Come on, Peter! Come on, Peter!”
He felt something so cold and sharp coming up his lungs - it burned. Peter began to choke and gasp, and frigid hands were turning him, as water rushed from his mouth and nose. He wanted to scream and cry at the pain that it caused in his throat, but he couldn’t move.
“There you go, there you go - just get it out.” A warm hand rubbed over his bare back vigorously, and Peter began to cough. Every time his lungs raked in a breath, it burned and he coughed again, water continuing to pour from his nose.
Hands braced his head, and he wanted to melt into the warmth of them.
“Bring me O2 and get a backboard out here now!” Someone yelled, and Peter flinched because it was so loud. “Easy - easy. Sam and Rhodey are coming down the hill, just breathe for me.” Peter knew that voice, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“Ben?” He whispered, but it caused him to choke around more water and he began to hack again, wincing at the sharp jabs of pain that it caused.
“Don’t talk - don’t talk. It’s okay, just keep breathing buddy. We’re gonna get you warm.” Peter was so confused. He blinked his eyes open and he looked up to see Mr. Stark looking at him, his right arm on Peter’s back, his left hand bracing against Peter’s neck.
“M’ h’t.” Peter murmured - maybe. He was burning up - he wasn’t cold at all.
“That’s the hypothermia talking. Just keep those eyes on me.” Peter wanted to respond, but his head was screaming and before he could stop himself he was throwing up. Peter couldn’t breathe again, and someone turned his head, as a mixture of bile and water poured from his stomach.
“Let’s get him turned over! Sam, get the heated O2 on him now! Tony, here, cut off his shirt and pants - we need to get him out of the wet clothes, and into a blanket. Oh- shi- okay. Sam, we have a GSW to the lower right thigh. I’m starting a tourniquet. We need to get him started on a blood transfusion and warmed saline.” Rhodes said, and Peter felt a new pair of warm hands on his back.
“Alright, let’s get him on the backboard. Flip on three. One - two - three!” Peter felt his body being moved, but he was so numb - it felt like he had just turned his head. There was a sharp prick on his right elbow, and he could hear the sound of scissors cutting through something.
“Alright, Barnes - keep him still, I’m applying the tourniquette.” Peter lifted his head to look at what Rhodes was doing by his leg, but strong hands on his head had him staring up at Tony’s face, illuminated by the moon and what Peter assumed to be flash lights.
“Alright, eyes on me buddy.” Peter blinked and gave a wheezing grunt - then something was being pulled over his mouth, and he wanted to melt. Warm air began to push into his lungs. Peter closed his eyes, letting his head fall limp into the hands bracing his neck. He wanted to tell Tony how much the back of his head hurt - how much pain he knew he was in - but the effort that would take was enough to have Peter falling asleep on the spot.
At least, he was falling asleep. Until something began to tighten around his thigh. Peter screamed, his entire body trying to jerk upwards but something was holding him down. He began to thrash rabidly, his breathing becoming desperately erratic.
“Hammer! Hammer - please - please stop - don’t - please don’t!” He screamed, trying to move away from the hands above him.
“Peter! Peter! It’s Tony! You fell into the lake, you were shot. Hammer’s not here, don’t worry about him buddy - I’ve got you. Breathe, just breathe.” Tony said over and over.
Peter’s breaths began to slow down as he gasped around the O2 mask. He felt something beginning to tighten over his chest and he shook his head before Tony’s grip tightened and he couldn’t move his neck.
“Don’t don’t tie me down - please - please - I can’t - can't!” He cried again.
“Peter, it's Sam. Listen to me. We have to carry you up a hill. If we don’t strap you down, you will fall. Your arms will be free. We’re not trying to keep you held up, we just have to keep you from falling. Do you understand me?” Peter let out a shaky breath, nodding his head.
He heard someone counting, and then he was being moved. He heard grunting and felt himself shifting, but all he knew was that he was freezing cold, and he was in so much pain.
“Natasha’s got the bus at the top of the hill! I’m going to toss you down a blanket.” Someone - somewhere said. Peter should probably know who was talking but … it didn’t matter? Did it matter?
Something thick settled over him and he wanted to cry from the relief of the helpful warmth.
Peter blinked - and he - he didn’t do something. Something he was supposed to do?
“Peter - open your eyes.” Someone said. He should listen - should do - open - something? “Come on, kid. Rhodey is about to get you some of the good stuff then you can head out on us, okay?”
“Do’sn’t - do’sn’t h’rt anym’re.” Peter whispered.
“Okay, loading him up in three - two - lift!” He was being jostled, but he didn’t feel pain anymore. As his eyelids slid closed one more time, he let himself tumble down into the darkness.