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The blizzard that hit New York, was uncharacteristically early in the season.
October had just ended, there were still pumpkins on doorsteps, and Peter and Morgan’s Halloween candy stash was still pretty full. This was why when the weatherman had reported the blizzard, with its chance of almost five to six feet of snow, Peter didn’t really think anything of it.
“Are you sure you’re okay tonight?” Tony asked over the phone, Peter had it tucked between his cheek and shoulder as he finished scooping the ice cream into bowls. “I would feel much better if you came back to the cabin.”
“What?” Peter balked at him. “You don’t think May and I can afford heat or something? We’ve got a perfectly good heater, Tony.”
Tony made a pained sound on the other end, Peter could just picture his worried and pinched expression. Since Peter came back from the Blip a few months ago, his protectiveness was at an all time high. “It’s not your heater that I’m worried about, Pete. I’d prefer it if you didn’t patrol tonight or tomorrow. It’s going to be below zero, not to mention the wind chill.”
“You need to chill,” Peter said, putting the lid back on the ice cream container and bringing it back to his freezer. “And I won’t go out, okay? I’ll sit at home, eat my ice cream and watch movies.”
“You have to promise me, okay? Don’t go out.” The disbelief in his voice was pretty evident, but Peter ignored it.
“Yeah, I promise, okay? You have to trust me, Tony.”
Tony made another sound, in the back Peter could hear Morgan yelling for her father. “I do trust you, Pete, really, I just worry about you. If I’d known you were - hold on,” Tony’s voice moved away from the phone, “Yes, Morgan I see you, really neat, now get down from the table. No, no, I said get down, not jump, Jesus.”
“Sounds like you’ve got your hands full,” Peter jumped in and a second later Tony was back.
“Pete,” he said with a sigh. “Just keep in touch, okay? Shoot me a text before you go off to sleep and in the morning. If the snow isn’t too bad, I might come out and get you anyway.”
“Tony,” Peter said, taking a seat on the couch. “I’m like 17 years old, I can be home alone during a blizzard, alright? If I need anything I’ll call you but I don’t need you rushing over to get me. May and Happy will be back at the end of the week, I’ll be fine until then.”
“Alright, Pete,” Tony said, once more with a sigh. “Love you kid.”
“Love you too.”
They hung up, Peter reached for the remote and turned the TV on. The show he was watching was interrupted a few minutes in by the weatherman. He was showing videos of the snowstorm raging on, graphics of snow and sleet pelting down onto New York City.
“If you’re thinking of going out tonight, don’t,” the man said, pretty much repeating the words Tony had said to him. Peter flipped to another channel, away from basic cable to not be interrupted by the weather again.
An hour later, Peter jolted awake at the sound of the wind outside, having picked up greatly during his impromptu nap. His bowl of ice cream was discarded on the table, he got up to carry it into the sink. Just because Happy and May were on vacation and not due back for 5 days, didn’t mean he’d just be a slob til then. He didn’t, however, do the dishes, those could wait until morning.
Stretching his arms about his head, Peter rolled his neck, feeling a little too cooped up. He wasn’t planning on disobeying Tony’s orders to stay in, he wasn’t stupid, persay but he was looking forward to patrolling. With senior year midterms bearing down on him, he spent a lot more time studying than going out.
Half the reason he didn’t go to the cabin when Happy and May left a few days ago, was so he could stay in the city and patrol his little heart out while they were gone. Heading back to the couch, he sent off a few texts to Tony, Ned, and MJ, and scrolled through Twitter for a few before tossing his phone on the couch, feeling a little restless.
He changed the channel again, landing on The Martian playing, and laid back down on the couch, pulling up his warm fleece blanket to his chest, enjoying the movie.
-
A chill woke Peter up, a cold that traveled through him, making him shiver, curling further into the blanket. He blearily opened his eyes, realizing right away that both the living room light and the TV were now off.
And then, he realized, he could no longer hear the rustling of the heater or feel the warmth it provided him.
The power was out.
“Shit,” Peter said, grabbing his phone from the table, and looking to see he only had 20% battery left. He pulled up the news, finding what he was looking for right away, the storm had caused several power outages in the area. Another shiver ran through him, he pocketed his phone and went into his room, pulling on his Midtown hoodie.
Once on, he sent Ned a text, asking if he had any power. A second later, Ned was calling him.
“Is yours out?” Ned asked when Peter answered.
“Yeah, is yours?”
“No, we’re alright. You should call Mr. Stark to come to get you, it’s too cold.”
Logically he knew very well that it was the right answer, but he also didn’t want Tony to have to come to save him like this. “I’m gonna come over,” Peter decided.
“How?” Ned questioned. “May’s not home and you can’t drive.”
“I’m gonna walk, dude. You’re like 3 miles away, I’m a fast walker, I can be there in like 45 minutes, an hour tops.”
“Uh, I think that’s a bad idea. It’s an actual blizzard outside, my dude. You get cold when you open the fridge, you're not going to last.”
“First, rude, secondly, I’ll bundle up. I’ve been out in the snow since getting bitten, I’ll be fine.”
Ned was silent for a second but sighed, giving in. “Alright, just, text me or call me while you’re walking.”
“Can’t my phone’s battery is too low. I’m going to turn it off when I leave.”
He could practically hear Ned rolling his eyes over the phone. “It’ll be fine,” he added. “I’m wearing the super spying watch Tony gave me, if something happens, he’ll know where to find me, okay? I’m not that much of an idiot.”
“Debatable,” Ned replied and this time Peter rolled his eyes. “Be safe.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Peter answered, hanging up and pocketing the phone once more. Looking around his room, he began gathering everything he’d need to stay at Ned’s for the night. Clothing, charger, laptop, a few other misc things. Afterward, he put on a pair of mittens and a hat that MJ had knitted him.
Tony had bought him a big puffy winter coat a few weeks ago, which Peter thought was way overboard, but he put it on anyway, feeling like he couldn’t even move any of his arms. Once he was bundled up, he made sure to turn off the lights and unplug the TV. There wasn’t much food in the fridge that would go bad and in any case, it was certainly going to be cold enough inside the apartment.
With one last look around, he nodded, grabbed his keys, and headed out of the apartment.
-
It only took 5 minutes until Peter regretted his decision. Even with the fancy boots, Mr. Stark had also bought him, his feet and legs were already freezing. The wind was relentless, pushing snow toward Peter’s face, seemingly never ending.
He was, as he can see it, the only person outside. Which honestly fits his MO pretty well, to begin with. He’d turned his phone off just in case he needed it later, for an emergency call or something. A part of him wanted to take the Iron Spider suit, with its heaters and legs to move him, but then Tony would know and freak out and well, he’s trying to avoid that.
It’s just a little cold and snow, how much harm could it be?
A particularly large wind gust nearly takes him off his feet and he stumbles just a bit. “Jeez,” he grumbles. “I kind of wish I’d been bitten by a radioactive polar bear.”
He trudged on, the snow up to his knees as it continued to blow directly into his face, which by now had come pretty numb. The scarf covered his mouth well, but the beanie only protected his forehead, his eyes and most of his nose were exposed to the weather.
He got to the end of his block and looked both ways before he crossed the street despite not really needing to. Once he was across, he could hear the sound of another heartbeat finally, someone else was now out in the cold. The heartbeat was slower and if he listened hard enough he thought he could hear teeth chattering.
Walking past an alleyway, he spotted someone standing by a shopping cart, a threadbare blanket covered in snow thrown over their shoulders as they huddled.
“Hey,” Peter said, having to step high over a mound of snow. “Are you okay?”
The person ended up being an older man, he had a scraggly beard and crazy gray hair. He didn’t say anything when Peter came closer, but he didn’t look worried. It took Peter a second to remember he wasn't Spider-man right now, so people might not trust him so easily.
“Do you need any assistance?” Peter asked. “There’s a FEAST shelter about two blocks this way. If you don’t have anywhere else to go…” Peter trailed, feeling bad he was assuming the man was homeless because of his location and appearance.
“Don’t need no shelter,” the man barked. “I’ve got my fire.”
He gestured towards a garbage can that most definitely didn’t have a fire in it. “When I get it started,” he grumped. “My hands are too cold right now, can’t stop shakin’.”
“Can I help?” Peter asked. “My uncle taught me once, how to start a fire. I’ve lived in the city my entire life but he said it might come in handy one day, so?”
The man hesitated, before pulling matches out of his pocket. He didn’t have gloves on, in fact, the only winter gear he had on was a knitted hat. He looked cold, his skin had a light blue color, and his body shivered. It looked like he’d been outside without his fire for a while now.
“I’ve only got a few left,” he said. “Don’t go messin’ this up.”
Peter took the matches, leaning over the garbage can, inside was a lot of paper piled high, some dark ashes from a fire he must have made beforehand. He brought his hands over the garbage, trying to keep the matches out of the snow and wind, but it was a little difficult.
Ben had taught him, when he was younger, how to start a fire if you didn’t have matches or anything else. Peter had tried Boy Scouts, but he was never all that handy with nature stuff, he preferred machines and technology. But Ben and his father had been Scouts and Ben wanted to share something with Peter. So fire making, it was.
“Can you stand over here?” Peter asked, pointing across the can. “It should help block out some of the wind.”
The man did as he was asked to, it helped enough. His gloves were just thin enough to make holding things possible, his fingers were cold, but not numb enough to cause problems. He took a deep breath and struck the match, fire erupted and he tossed it into the garbage, hoping it would catch.
The fire started small, both he and the older man leaned over, trying to create a protected covering for the fire to grow. Thankfully it did and after a minute, the fire was blazing, the heat feeling good against Peter’s entire body.
“Thank you,” the old man said, sounding very grateful. “Please stay and get warm.”
“You’re welcome, but I really do think you should go over to the shelter. It’s only going to get colder and if the fire goes out, you might freeze.”
The old man made a gruffing sound. “Maybe so.”
Peter knew this might be the best answer he’d get. He held his hands over the fire for a few moments.
“What are you doin’ out here in this weather?” The old man asked him, he was practically leaning against the garbage can, the fire licking so close to his hands.
“Uh, my power went out, so no heat. I’m going to my friend's house, he’s only a few blocks away.”
The old man eyed him up and down, before shrugging. “You better stay safe out here, get to your friends quickly, and don’t stop to help anybody else.”
Peter smiled, pulling his hands back to himself. “Thanks for the advice. Have a good night and stay safe too and warm.”
He was about to leave when something in the back of his mind stopped him. He wasn’t in his Spider-man suit, but he could still do some good.
“Here, take my coat,” Peter said, unzipping and pulling his arms free. “You need this more than I do.”
“Come now,” the old man said. “You need your jacket too, you just say you’re walkin’ to your friends.”
“Nah,” Peter lied. “It’s only a block away now and I got a hoodie on underneath. I should only be there in 5 minutes tops,” he continued to lie, Ned’s house was still 15 minutes away, 20 if the wind kept pushing against him. He held the jacket out, the cold immediately chilling him straight to the bone.
It was by sheer willpower that he didn’t start shivering immediately.
“Alright,” the man grumped, taking the coat from Peter and putting it over himself. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, have a good night.”
Peter smiled once last time, pulled his arms into his hoodie sleeves some more, and took back off down the street.
-
Peter was pretty sure his hypothermia started the millisecond he left his house, maybe even before when the heat went out, but now? Now it was moving from manageable to maybe needing some help. Not that he would actually ask for anyone’s help anyway. It was his fault he was in this mess, he might as well keep going.
It was easier to just finish his walk to Ned’s wasn’t it? Then turning around now and going back now would take even longer. And, he’d be going back to an apartment without power or heat. It would be much colder than just walking a few more blocks to Ned’s house. The house with power, heat and, Peter hoped, food for him.
This was, as logically as Peter could tell, a good decision.
As time moved on, the snow was getting harder to deal with. When first walking, he was able to high step his way through the snow with great efficiency. But now, the snow was piling faster and higher, making it nearly impossible to move properly. Instead, he found himself dragging his legs, too tired to even try and lift them.
The prolonged exposure to the snow had made his pants wet and cold, even his boots weren’t up to the task.
Seeing an awning leaning over the sidewalk, provided an area that was free from some of the blowing snow. He walked over, huddling himself against the window, a small reprieve from the aggressive wind.
His entire hoodie was soaked, the fabric no longer keeping any warmth at all. He had half a mind to just take it off instead. Wouldn’t it be better not to have wet and cold clothing on him? He thought maybe he should look up the answer, Google would let him know if he should.
Fumbling for his phone, the gloves were suddenly making it hard to get a good grip. Once the phone was in his hands, he pulled both gloves off one at a time with his teeth, dropping them onto the snow.
He should also tell Ned he was taking a break and might be running a little late, and more important not tell Tony what was going on.
The phone came to life, just as sluggishly as Peter felt. Once it did, he was flooded with missed calls, voicemails, and text alerts, all of which he ignored.
Dialing Ned, it rang once before he picked up.
“Peter, dude, where the hell are you? We’re all worried-”
“Wheeere the hell am I? Dude wheeereee the hell are you??” Peter responded, laughing at the absurdity of the question. “I’m walkin’ here.”
“Dammit, Peter. Be serious, you’ve been out there for almost an hour.”
“Nu-uh,” Peter said, looking at his nice expensive watch. He frowned, the numbers must be wrong. “Iss been like ten minutes, max. Just asssk t-t-t-he old man. Shh, I think is Santa, hehe.”
“Peter, you’re slurring your speech a lot and aren’t making much sense. I’m calling Tony, he needs to come get you.”
“Don’t!” Peter pouted, crossing his arms and dropping his phone in the process. “Ah shit,” he said, dropping to his knees in the snow to find it. The snow was coming down so hard, the phone was already well buried.
Without the gloves, the second Peter touched the snow, his hands became completely numb. “Gloooovesss?” he called out, wondering if he could find them by asking. When nothing came back to him but the echos of his voice on the white snow, he shrugged. “Okee dokee, then.”
Abandoning finding his phones or gloves, Peter struggled to get back to his feet. He was sure Tony could just get him a new phone, he didn’t need to worry about it. Wasn’t the man always saying he’d buy Peter anything he wanted?
Peter went on, feeling more and more tired the longer he pushed. Ned’s apartment was… somewhere, right? He’d walked there a thousand times before, he knew the path by heart but the snow made everything solid white and buildings started to blend and he couldn't see street signs anymore.
“Okay,” Peter said into the expanse of white, moving to the side of a building. “Plan B, I’mma sit here til the s-s-snow stops. Then I can find Neds.”
He leaned against the building’s wall, back sliding down until he hit the snow, and then he sank, down, down, until he was on the sidewalk. The snow sandwiched him in, covering him.
“Oh,” he said brightly. “It’s not even that cold anymore!”
He had stopped shivering the second he sat down. He tried to take a deep breath but couldn’t, the air was too cold, and it made his lungs feel like ice.
“Hmm,” he mumbled. “Is nice.”
Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him, telling him he was going to freeze to death if he remained where he was. He could feel his body slowing down, his breathing was shallow, and his heartbeat was slowly coming down, down, down, until Peter thought he couldn’t even feel his heartbeat anymore.
Peter watched the snow falling until all he could see was nothing but bright white.
-
When Peter opened his eyes, he knew, without a single doubt in his mind, he was in a lot of trouble.
Tony was sitting, slumped over in a chair, arms crossed with a very unpleasant look on his face, even in sleep. Peter knew he was in the medbay, snug and warm under the covers, an IV poking into his arm. He knew, he totally knew, he had made a very, very big mistake in trying to go to Ned’s in the middle of a blizzard.
He had half a mind to go back to sleep, or try and escape but it didn’t matter, Tony Stark would find him.
Might as well get it over with now.
Peter cleared his throat and Tony's eyes opened, expression and arms stayed the same.
“Uh, hi,” Peter squeaked out, his voice cracking slightly. “Sorry?”
Tony didn’t say anything for a whole minute before he pulled his chair even closer to Peter’s bed. “I know you’re not stupid, Pete but god damn, you just don’t use your brain sometimes.”
“In my defense,” Peter started. “I really thought it would take me 15 minutes, tops.”
“Or,” Tony said, sternly. “You could have called me and I would have come to get you.”
“But I had no heat,” Peter insisted. “I would have been cold if I had stayed in the house, even just to wait for you.”
“Oh,” Tony said sternly and Peter knew he pivoted in the wrong direction with his. His brain was still a little slow, feeling like sludge. “Nope, that’s not how this goes. You should have stayed put and waited for me to come and get you. That was 100% the better option than going outside to walk in a blizzard. You’re lucky to be alive, Peter!”
Peter blanched, head dropping. “Sorry, I… I didn’t realize it was that bad. I, well, I honestly thought it was a good idea.”
Tony’s nostrils flared a little and Peter recognized this look all too well. This isn’t his annoyed type of anger, this is the, you could have died brand of anger. The only that only comes out when Peter really messes up.
“If you thought going out in the blizzard was the better idea, why on Earth didn’t you at least put on the Iron Spider suit, which had a heater and took your webs? You would have at least been a little safer.”
“The webbing temperature/viscosity radio really affects elasticity in the cold,” Peter answered. “And if I would have worn the Iron Spider suit you would have known and stopped me from doing it.”
“First of all, we’re going to work on creating you some webs that aren’t going to have issues in the cold, and secondly correct I would have stopped you and that should have been your first clue that what you were about to do was wrong.”
“I am really sorry,” Peter pressed, despite still feeling… weird and bad, he knew he had to keep telling Tony that.
Tony sighed again, loudly. “You weren’t even wearing your jacket or gloves, Pete. Why on Earth did you think going out in a hoodie was safe?”
“Oh, I had those when I started, uh, gave my coat to a homeless guy and then I think I lost my gloves same time when I lost my phone.”
Tony gave him a level glare, which softened up after a moment or two. “How on Earth can I be mad at someone so selfless that he gives away the only thing keeping him from freezing to death, just to make sure someone else doesn’t.”
Peter shrugged. “You can try being, I don’t know, not mad.”
Tony glared at him. “You almost died, Pete. There’s no way I’m not going to be bad about it. I had to find you in the snow, I had to dig you out and see you laying there, eyes closed, face and lips blue, and had to beg the universe for you to still be alive. Your pulse was so slow, Pete, I thought for sure you weren’t going to make it.”
Sighing Tony put his head down, shaking it slightly. “You have to start putting yourself and your well being first. You have to let people help you, Pete. You should have called me.”
“Sorry,” Peter said, genuinely feeling bad for worrying him. “I promise I’ll do better.”
“I know you will because you’ll have a lot of time to think about what you’ve done since you’re grounded from Spider-man and the world outside for at least two weeks.”
“Nooo,” Peter whined, pouting. “You can’t ground me!”
“Oh yes, I can. You’re lucky, when I called May and told her the very abridged version of this, she was about to fly right back home. I had to withhold just how bad it was for her to agree to say the rest of her vacation. She bestowed upon me the power to ground you, for as long as I see fit.”
Peter frowned, but understood. He’d rather May stay on her vacation and not be the reason she came home early.
“I’m going to have a nurse give you a once over, if you’re good then we’re heading back to the cabin. Morgan’s got a movie ready and hot chocolate for you too.”
“With marshmallows?” Pete questioned as Tony stood up. The man paused before coming back towards the bed.
He ruffled Peter’s hair. “Of course, kiddo.”