It was Peter’s first official mission with the Avengers, and he was literally vibrating with excitement. He was sitting in the Quinjet next to Mr. Stark, watching in awe as the other’s stood casually, discussing strategy.
Mr. Stark had told him the basic plan: there was a HYDRA cell in Siberia that had been the center of a lot of recent attention. They were going in quick: a simple, straight-forward fight, and hoping to recover intel on the locations of other cells.
Captain America (Captain Freaking America!) turned to Peter with a smile. “Remember kid, web ‘em up. Keep ‘em on their toes.”
Peter nodded vigorously. “Yes, Mr. Captain America sir!”
“You can just call me Steve, Peter,” he said, amused. Mr. Stark interrupted before Peter could respond.
“Good luck with that one Cap. I’ve been trying to get him to call me Tony for years.” Peter gave Mr. Rogers a guilty smile. He couldn’t believe that he was finally a part of the team.
The conversation continued around him but he was too excited to tune back in. His knee was bouncing like crazy but he didn’t bother trying to stop it. Peter figured that all he had to do was prove himself on this mission.
—
The mission didn’t go to plan. Of course, when did it ever for Peter.
The base had been evacuated. And a bomb. They had been able to figure it out just in time to get clear of the building and into the Quinjet, but not in time to get out of the blast zone.
So they were stuck, in a freezing wasteland in Siberia, with an out of commission Quinjet.
Tony had already started work on repairing the damaged parts and had assured the rest of them that it wouldn’t take long. The best they could do was sit tight, and try to ignore the encroaching cold.
Easier said than done.
There were only 3 blankets on board, 2 of which were shock blankets. Natasha and Clint got the shock blankets and Bruce got the thin mattress cover because, for all their skill, they weren’t enhanced.
Initially, Steve had tried to hand the blanket to Peter, but Peter convinced him that as the only two enhanced individuals on board (Thor was off-world), they needed it least. Steve had reluctantly agreed.
Now, Peter just needed to figure out how to stop shivering so violently so Steve wouldn’t get suspicious.
—
Peter sat in the same place he had been on the way here, his arms wrapped around themselves and rubbing viciously. It didn’t take long for Bruce to notice how disproportionate Peter’s response was to the level of cold they were experiencing. Sure it was cold, but the metal walls of the Quinjet were currently still providing a substantial barrier to the worst of it.
“Hey Peter. How’re you holding up,” Bruce said casually. He sat himself where Tony had been before Peter had even registered he was there.
Peter’s teeth were chattering so much that his words kept getting interrupted by little clicks.
“I-I’m g-go-ood.” Bruce frowned.
“Mind if I check your temperature here real quick? You seem colder than you should be.” Bruce made to stand, but Peter pulled him back down.
“N-no.” Bruce could tell Peter was trying to dispel the shaking of his jaw. To his surprise, it seemed to work.
“‘m fine Bruce.” Peter smiles at him, his face relaxing, shoulders slumping just a bit in what seemed to be relief. Bruce must have been staring because Peter followed up.
“F’real ‘m actually feelin’ a lot better now. ‘m almost warm.” Peter laughed.
It took Bruce a second before he put two and two together. When he did, he swore quietly.
“You have hypothermia Peter. Here.” Bruce shrugged off his blanket and wrapped it tightly around Peter’s shoulders. Then he lept into action.
“Clint, Nat. Give Peter your blankets. Try to warm him up as best you can.” Peter tried protesting but Bruce cut over him. “Steve, get Tony. Tell him he needs to finish fixing that engine right now. And the heat while he’s at it.
“Bruce, what’s going on?” Steve asked.
“Peter is dangerously cold that’s what. We need to get his body temperature up quick.”
—
Peter tried to give Clint and Nat their blankets back.
“You guys, I don’t need this,” he said sluggishly, “‘m feelin’ fine.” Nat wrapped him tightly in the blankets, and Peter found that he could not escape. That didn’t stop him from wriggling in his cocoon.
“mm, I nee’ a see Tony.”
“Peter you need to stay still. Clint and I are going to warm you up.”
A keening whine escaped Peter’s throat. He needed to see Tony! They didn’t understand! Mr. Stark had something waiting for him in the lab and—wait where was he? Last time he remembered the inside of the lab wasn’t gray and reflective.
Peter struggled harder, his arms making uncoordinated shoves at the blankets. He was getting hot and needed all these layers off him.
“I need to get these off.” Peter said, or rather, tried saying. When the words finally made their way past his numb limps they sounded more like “‘m ge’off.”
Natasha seemed to get the message somehow anyways. “Peter, you need to keep these blankets on.” she said sternly.
Where was Mr. Stark? He would be able to help Peter escape.
As if summoned by Peter’s thoughts, Tony emerged on the communal area of the jet from the engine room. He took one look at Peter, and was by his side seconds later.
Peter blinked and wondered where Nat and Clint had gone. Then he smiled dopily at Mr. Stark. He couldn’t formulate his thoughts into words but that was okay. Mr. Stark would fix everything.
—
Tony wasn’t prepared for just how bad “Bruce said Peter’s doing badly” meant. One look at Peter and it was obvious.
Tony’s thoughts were going a million miles an hour. Around him he could hear Bruce barking orders, the loud clanging of supersoldier feet running on metal, all things that should have garnered his attention. But he couldn’t focus on anything but Peter.
God, the kid looked awful. His face was flushed pink and he was ice cold to the touch. When Tony checked Peter’s pulse it seemed to skip a beat before settling down.
And all the while the kid was just grinning at him. Tony grimaced.
“Hey, kid, I need you to stay focused on me okay? No sleeping, yeah?” Tony prompted. He knew enough about hypothermia to know that this was dangerous territory. He needed to keep Peter awake and as coherent as possible.
Peter offered a slow nod in response to Tony’s questioning. It would have to do.
“Okay. You know morse code kid?” Again, the slow nod, and the sleepy smile. “Good. I want you to tap out some messages for me Pete. You got that?” One final nod of affirmation from the freezing boy in front of him, so Tony unfurled the blanket from around the kid’s right arm so he could reach it out to make contact with Tony’s wrist.
Tony consoled himself with the fact that if Peter was coherent enough to use morse code, he probably wasn’t in immediate danger of dying.
That confidence only lasted a couple minutes though. Right before takeoff, when Natasha and Clint we’re still trying to start up all “non-essential” systems like temperature control, Peter’s taps started fading.
First they stopped making sense, and Tony had to keep asking the kid if he meant the letter E or I. Then, they were just weak movements, hardly recognizable as morse at all.
“Kid?” Tony gently shook Peter’s shoulders. “Kid I need you to look at me yeah? I need you to just listen to what I’m saying and stay awake.” Tony wasted no time in launching into a long-winded story about his and Rhodey’s MIT days, careful to keep an eye on the kid.
Then, Peter started closing his eyes. Tony’s stomach leapt into his throat.
“Nat! Get the heat on! Now!” He tucked Peter’s arm back inside the blanket and wrapped it tightly around him. Then, he pulled Peter into a tight hug, rubbing his back and playing with his hair.
“You’re gonna be okay Peter. We’re gonna get you home, and Aunt May’s gonna have my throat, but you’re gonna be fine, I promise.” Tony kept up a string of muttered assurances until Nat got the heat on. He gave a shaky huff.
“That was rather dramatic, Peter.” Tony continued to talk softly to the unconscious boy, “How about next time you don’t hold out on some weird spider side effect and I don’t have a heart attack.”
Tony didn’t expect a response, but Peter never failed to surprise him. He lazily opened his eyes and rolled his head so he was looking directly at Tony.
“ur’ thin’ mi’ter ‘tark.”