Hypothermia

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Spooktober is almost over


Spooktober.29


It was no secret that Peter was not good at keeping warm. Especially in the colder months.

So when the colder months rolled around, he had gotten a habit of keeping extra coats in his backpack, wearing double sweaters and double socks, etc. Sometimes he would put smaller heating packs in his pockets when it was really bad. It all depended on the severity of temperature.

Today was a bad day.

For one, it was absolutely freezing. 27 degrees, which was below freezing temperature. Two, Peter didn't have anything to keep him warm, a side effect of being late.

He was extremely sluggish through the day. Luckily, Ned always carried a spare jacket with him for Peter to wear in case this ever happened. The bad news—because there always was bad news— Was that it didn't help enough as Peter hoped.

He thanked Ned anyways, and hid his shivering until the final bell rang.

Peter scurried down the halls, and then out the door. He could tell he wasn't going to last long. He felt dizzy and his limbs were weak, which he knew was the result of hypothermia. Which also meant that—

He crashed to the floor, his legs too weak to carry himself any more. He expected this, but because he couldn't really move, he just sat in a corner and huddled into it for warmth.

Peter sat there, cold and uncomfortable. He hoped that he would possibly gather enough warmth for him to at least get back up and go inside, but nothing like that happened. Instead, he stopped shivering, which did not bode well for him.

A part of him thought he should call someone. Ned or May. Even Tony would help, really. He was getting sleepy though, and he'd much rather let his arms just rest at his side...

In fact, maybe if he just closed his eyes and slept it off, then—

He woke up in Tony's arms.

Tony was carrying him somewhere. He wasn't in an Iron Man suit. He was in casual clothes. And he definitely wasn't expecting Peter to wake up so soon.

"Hey, kiddo," Tony murmurs. "I'm just getting you to bed. Close your eyes. May said you should stay here and rest. Does that sound good?"

Peter was too tired to argue, plus he didn't want to. He closes his eyes and his head falls back against Tony's chest.

He feels multiple blankets piled over him. It's warm, and soothes the coldness still his fingertips. Tony runs a hand through his hair until he falls back asleep.

"Night, son." Tony smiles softly. "Next time bite the frost bite back. Geez, that's a tongue twister."

Peter responds back with snores.

Tony huffs fondly and gets up, closing Peter's door behind him.

He's never letting Peter leave school without at least five jackets. That's settled.

("Tony, he doesn't NEED that many, he only needs one heavy jacket or two light ones—"

"May, trust me. I've got this."

"I'm a nurse—"

"Shhhhh.")

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