New York clung to winter like it was the only season that would ever exist again. When the weather crept up to thirty degrees for two days in January, the meteorologists called it a heat wave. Otherwise, the temperature lingered in the single digits.
It wasn't that bad, at least not for Peter Parker, who had lived in this city his entire life. The world didn't stop for a little bit of cold here and there. You just tucked your hands into your pockets, put your head down, and waddled as fast as you could to the subway station for the little bit of warmth it would provide. Once home, he would sit on the radiator until either May yelled at him to get off or his ass started to burn.
Sometimes the world did actually stop. Or rather, his world did. On the few days it dipped below zero, school would cancel and he would spend the day tucked under his covers while doing homework or chatting with Ned. It was too cold to go out and see his friends, but sometimes he would get driven to the Avengers Tower to work on projects with Tony Stark. He liked those days the best. No school meant he could actually take some time to do normal teen stuff like getting more than five hours of sleep, and then he got to go hang out at the coolest residence-slash-lab in the country!
Of course, just because it was cold and his world paused for a moment didn't mean that crime also disappeared. It was significantly reduced and that was awesome, but some criminals were determined to do wrong and someone had to be there to stop them. This was something Peter was reminded of when Karen's program popped up while he was working on his laptop.
"Peter, there is a robbery downtown that you have been approved to handle," said the sweet computer voice.
"Awesome!" Peter grinned as he hopped up from the couch. He had the apartment to himself for the weekend. May had gone on a business trip and Peter was supposed to be writing his History report. He figured a nice break to beat up bad guys would be very welcomed.
As he stepped over towards his room, he paused for a moment. "Wait, 'approved to handle?'" he questioned, glaring at the AI he couldn't see.
"Yes, Mister Stark has approved this mission," Karen replied either not sensing or ignoring the irritation in Peter's voice. "Or better, he has approved you for these sorts of missions. It seems to be a low-level issue with only two perpetrators and no heavy weapons."
"Low level my ass," Peter grumbled, but he didn't question it any further. At least he was able to get out of the house. In a minute he had on his suit and was crawling out the window onto the fire escape.
"The door to your home is unlocked and available," Karen commented as Peter dangled a foot out the window.
He shrugged. "This is more fun," he told the AI as he hopped down.
The cold air hit him immediately, though its bite was muted as it hit Peter's suit. Still, he could feel it creeping around the edges and partially wished he had grabbed a jacket.
"Karen, can you turn the heaters up?" he asked the AI who responded affirmatively. In a moment, Peter was flooded with warmth. It was so comfortable, in fact, he wished he'd thought to put his suit on hours ago. Tony probably wouldn't have appreciated his casual use of the expensive tool, but Peter would gladly trade a lecture for hours of comfortable warmth.
Karen then pulled up a screen which outlined how Peter could get to the robbery. He used his web shooters to swing from building to building. It was exhilarating, the feeling of flying, falling, and being pulled up only to drop down again. He just wished it was warmer so he could open the vents in his suit and really feel the air hitting him. Either way, it was definitely a great way to break up the monotony of the days spent alone at home.
"Down and to the right." Karen's voice came clear into his headset. "They are exiting out the back door on the third floor."
It was then that Peter realized they were right next to a bank. In his haste to get out the door, he had never actually asked Karen what they were getting into. A bank robbery it seemed. Vanilla, but still a nice change of pace. He'd have these losers locked up in no time! Maybe after he'd swing by the Tower to tell Tony what a badass he was and that he'd so unlocked whatever level two missions were.
For now, he decided to just swing down to the outside balcony of the bank where he expected the robbers to exit. There was a rope tied to it that led to a getaway car, so he Peter felt pretty confident that he was in the right place.
"Wonder why there's a balcony on a bank," Peter murmured to himself as he peered in through the windows. That got him nowhere as the windows were covered with thick white curtains. He would just have to wait.
"According to Wikipedia, this bank used to be-" Karen rattled off before Peter interrupted.
"Nevermind, Karen."
"-a brothel."
"What? Woah!" Peter gazed at the building with newfound appreciation until he heard the telltale sounds of thumping on the hardwood.
"The robbers appear to be approaching the door," Karen said. Peter just nodded and briefly wondered if Karen could see him nod. Perhaps she just felt it. But did she know what a nod meant? What if she thought he was just bobbing his head?
No time to think about that, Peter decided as he pushed the questions out of his head. The door burst open and Peter jumped back a little, but the robbers stopped right where they were.
"Surprise!" Peter cheered at the shocked looks on their faces. "You're going to jail!" He shot his webs at the men who were quickly tied up. "Man that was easy," the boy sighed, almost wishing they'd gotten more action.
"Peter, there's a man in the getaway car," Karen said as Peter finished tying up the criminals. He grinned to himself in excitement.
"Awesome! A bonus bad guy!" Peter ran to the edge of the balcony and looked over as the third man exited the car. "Hey!" Peter called in a taunting voice. "Your friends are a little… tied up!" He laughed, as though that joke was the funniest thing he'd heard all day. It likely was since a report on the Civil War wasn't exactly high comedy.
Just as he was about to jump down, he briefly heard a ticking noise and then a large explosion rocked the small stone balcony. Before he was even able to process that he was falling, he hit the concrete ground head first with a loud thud.
"Minor concussion sustained," Karen commented as Peter pushed himself upright. "Scanning for other injuries."
"What was that?" he asked as his cloudy eyes darted around him to assess the changing situation. The two robbers were still tied up and groaning in pain while the third ran to them. For a moment, Peter thought he was trying to help his colleagues, but then he realized the man was just getting the money and going.
"A mini bomb detonated in 1.2 seconds," Karen came back with a reply. "My apologies, Peter, I wasn't able to scan for it in time."
"No sweat," he replied, then shouted to the criminal, "Hey! Gonna leave your friends behind? That's not very nice!" He finished his sentence with a well-timed release of his webs and managed to pin the last thug to the wall. He struggled and Peter launched another web at him for good measure, but he was as good as stuck to the brick side of the building.
"Police incoming in five seconds," Karen reported and Peter smiled, ruefully rubbing his head.
"Awesome!" he replied, shooting at the neighboring building and flying off before the police got there. From the roof he watched them round up the criminals, a big smile on his face. "Alright, Karen, where to next?"
"Avengers Tower."
"What? It's like twelve thirty! I have three hours before I'm supposed to be there. Come on, Karen put me on level two! There has to be something on level two." Peter didn't really know what level two entailed, but knowing that there were levels of missions made him antsy.
"Peter, Mister Stark will need to assess damage to the suit. I am noticing that heat is depleting at a faster than normal rate. There may be some damage to the heating system. You also have a minor concussion."
Peter brushed her off. "Oh well. It's toasty in here, I'll be good for one more mission. And what's a minor concussion? That's like, barely there."
"According to medical professionals, a minor concussion can-"
"Come on Karen, please?" Peter asked in a tone that was creeping dangerously close to being a whine. He couldn't help himself. He'd been itching to get out all day and his head barely hurt. Plus, his healing factor would get that sorted out in no time.
There was a pregnant pause before the AI spoke again. "A ferry has lost power in the Hudson," she told him.
"Awesome!" Peter cheered as he started moving in that direction. "I mean, oh wow that's terrible. How did it happen? Bad guy? Terrorist attack? Aliens?"
"Mechanical failure."
Peter made a face. This wasn't nearly as exciting as he was hoping. "Ugh. Nice going, New York. Alright, might as well push it to safety, right? Give the good people of this awesome city a taste of their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."
"I would advise seeking medical-"
"After this mission," Peter groaned as he swung from building to building with ease. The cold air nipped him a little more than before, but it wasn't terrible. He'd fix up the ferry and then head back to Mister Stark's so the man could kill him a little for breaking the suit. "Geeze, Karen, stop being such a wet blanket."
"Given the outside temperature, I would highly advise against procuring a wet blanket."
With an eye roll and just enough restraint to keep from answering his AI back, Peter swung up on a building that lined the river. He saw the ferry immediately, floating helplessly in the middle of the Hudson. It was surrounded by police boats and a helicopter flew overhead.
"Man," Peter sighed, scaling the wall until he dropped to the ground. "How many people does it take to bring a ferry to shore?" He flung his webs at a boat and found himself flying past the shore and over the river. "Oh well, only gonna take one Spider-Man!" he finished, landing on a boat and going for the long shot on the ferry.
The webs made it and he was flying once more, though he dipped low and ended up skidding on his heels across the rippling waves. The freezing water bit his feet, but he was too busy hollering with glee as he skied.
Finally, he was pulled up onto the giant boat, the few onlookers gazing at him in awe. There weren't many passengers on a Thursday in the middle of the day while the temperature hovered below zero. Just those that had to be and had unfortunately gotten stuck.
"Hi guys," Peter greeted as he hopped up on the very top roof of the upper deck. "Man this sucks, huh? Let's get you all home! Karen, I'm gonna need the big guns!"
"Assault rifle loaded."
"No, no, no!" Peter quickly replied, shaking his head vigorously. "Wait. Assault rifle? I have one of those?"
"Three, actually."
"Sick." He glanced down at the people he was supposed to be saving. "Wait, nevermind. I just need the heavy webs. Like the heaviest shit we got. I'm gonna shoot at the bridge and drag the boat over there."
"With what?"
Although it couldn't be seen through his mask, Peter smirked. "Me."
"Preparing webs." Well, that was easier than expected, Peter realized as he anchored himself behind the top section of the ferry and aimed his shooters at the bridge in front of him. "Launching in three… two… one."
Peter was rocked back by the sheer force of the webs being slung from his shooters. They were far heavier and far less versatile than anything he'd ever shot before, but they were so goddamn cool! Peter was focused on watching them fly through the air and it wasn't until his arms were nearly ripped off that he snapped back to reality. Bracing himself against the backend of the upper deck, he allowed the tension between the webs and himself get the ship moving. People cheered as they were finally moved through the water and towards dry land. It was a great feeling. They were cheering for him.
Then the tension died down and Peter had to tug with everything he had in him. Thanks to his super strength, he had quite a bit more than the average teenager, but the task of pulling a giant ferry with his bare hands was not exactly easy. And worse, he could feel the air start to seep in through the compromised parts of the suit. Maybe he wouldn't be asking Karen for a third mission. He could swing by the local Thai place and then head to Mister Stark's.
As he was considering whether or not to go for the classic Pad Thai or the restaurant's special Pad See Ew, he neglected to focus on the task at hand. The boat was moving, the bridge was not and all would be well until the ferry was ashore. Except, Peter failed to notice that he himself had started to slip up the outer wall of the enclosed captain's deck.
The boat was nearing the shore and workers on the dock had gotten ahold of ropes to pull it the rest of the way in. Peter's job was done and he was rather glad. The city was already impossibly cold, but being out on the water just worsened it. He was just about to let his webs go and shifted slightly to lower himself, but the movement lifted him from the wall briefly, but long enough to send him flying through the air.
"Holy- Woah!" Peter cried out as he was flung over the water once more. In the distance, he heard the people on the ferry cheer, as if this was the exit he had planned. He tried to gain a sense of what was happening, but he quickly had to duck under the bridge. As though he was on a swing, he dipped down towards the water, but the bridge was high enough to keep him dry. That is until he accidentally let go of his webs on pure instinct and found himself tumbling towards the waves.
"Karen-!" He could only think to call out the name of his AI, but he had no idea what to ask her to do. And, he didn't have much time to consider his options before he plunged into the unforgiving waters of the Hudson.
It felt like he had landed on knives, the water was so cold. His first instinct was to gasp, but he was thankfully able to restrain himself until he bobbed up past the surface. He sucked in a huge amount of air, but it didn't feel like enough.
"Peter, you have sustained bruising to your ribs, strained muscles in your shoulders and arms, a moderate concussion, and your body temperature is rapidly falling. I would advise you to get to shore as quickly as possible."
Without a response, he started to swim towards the shore. His body was so heavy, it felt like he was trying to move with bricks for hands. But, finally, he reached the shore of the Hudson and pulled himself out, his body shaking violently as he escaped the freezing water in favor of the cold air.
"O-oh my god!" Peter stuttered on every hard sound that passed his blue lips. "What the fuck? What the fuck?" He wrapped his arms around himself, but every inch of him was completely soaked. There was no way to escape the cold.
"I would now advise you to seek medical attention at Avengers Tower," Karen's voice came in, still clear and cool even after being plunged into the water.
"How did I even get hurt? I hit water!" Peter complained.
"You hit the water at 78.2 miles per hour," Karen explained. "Due to the velocity-"
"I get it," Peter snapped. He sighed, picking himself off the makeshift beach and starting to walk. "Sorry, Karen."
"That is quite alright, Peter," the chipper voice replied. "I sense a rising level of anxiety and understand that will often make a person irritable." To be completely honest, Peter hadn't noticed the anxiety building in the pit of his stomach until Karen mentioned it. Now that he was more aware of himself, he felt scared and cold. Avengers Tower wasn't far. In fact, he could see it from where he was. He just needed to get there.
"How do you feel, Peter?" the AI asked. Peter knew she was trying to get him more intuned with how his body was reacting to the shock.
"Awful," he bit out but forced himself to really consider what his body was telling him. "I feel… cold. Freezing. Is there a word stronger than freezing? Because that's what I feel. My chest hurts. Well, a little lower than my chest. Probably the ribs, right? Um, head hurts. Woah." He stumbled a little, suddenly overcome with a wave of dizziness he was not prepared for.
"Peter?" asked Karen in what almost sounded like concern.
"I feel wobbly. And kinda numb now." He stopped up next to a building and pressed himself against it. "I'm tired. Like hella tired."
"Please return to Avengers Tower as quickly as you are able to," Karen told him. "Your body temperature is continuing to fall and I am unable to activate heating protocol."
Peter sighed and pulled himself from the wall, continuing to walk down the street. "I-I just need to swing in, right? Just swing up and in," he mumbled as he tilted his head back to gaze at the giant tower in the middle of the city.
"I do not understand," Karen said. "Shall I send a distress signal?"
"No!" Peter immediately replied, snapping out of his daze. "I can get there myself, no need to send everyone out!" He leveled a shaking arm at the top ledge of a building and shot a web out. Sharply, he was pulled up and he winced at the tug on his arm. He hadn't properly braced himself for the movement and when he stumbled onto the roof of the building, he nearly fell back over the ledge.
Peter gathered himself, teeth chattering and small frame shivering as he regrouped. He looked up, shot his webs at another building and climbed higher. Just a little further. As he approached the middle of the city, the buildings got taller and he got closer to his goal.
"K-Karen," he stuttered out, choking on her name like water down the wrong pipe. "Unlock security on the window."
"Which window?" the AI asked. A sensible question, Peter knew, but as he stood on the ledge of the last tall building and shakily regarded his shot, he realized he had no idea which window he would manage to hit. Tony Stark also had one of the most robust security systems, and Peter didn't fancy the idea of getting his arm shot off. Or burned off. Well, maybe burned off wouldn't be so bad if it warmed him up.
"Uh… uh…" God, he was so tired. All of the pain he'd felt was numbed now and he just wanted to sleep. Maybe it would get warmer as the day went on. Maybe he'd dry off on this roof. Maybe it wasn't so bad.
"Peter, your heart rate is slowing and your body temperature is dangerously low," Karen's voice snapped Peter back to reality. "I will need to call for assistance."
"No, no I got this." Peter insisted. He grit his teeth tried to steady himself as much as possible and launched a web towards the tower. As the web flew through the air, he squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see the result of his Hail Mary.
"Trajectory calculated. Window unlocked," Karen said into his ear. His web locked on to something inside the tower and he was slung through the air one final time. "Peter," Karen prodded. "I am sending your vitals to Mister Stark in the lab." When he didn't respond, she added, "Please stay awake until assistance has arrived."
"Mmm," Peter mumbled. Wearily, he pried his eyes open, but the whirling world around him made him shut them once more. Before he knew it, he was flung onto a hard wooden floor. The window shut behind him and he felt warmth, but he was too numb to feel it.
"-ter." He heard Karen call to him, but the most he could do was reach a shaky arm up to remove his mask. The warm air flooded around his face and he gulped in air. As he laid his head on the dry floor, he heard the sounds of thudding footsteps and shouts of his name in the distance. But, that distance was growing larger and the floor was warm and dry and he was so tired. His eyes closed and the world disappeared.
Natasha didn't often take breaks as she found the lack of doing anything useless. However, the cold spell had given many of the Avengers free time and so she settled on the couch in the living room to read through case files. Truth be told, the cold, though unexpected, was not as severe as what she lived with in Russia. But, it was a good excuse to curl under some blankets and do some paperwork. Tony Stark got on her nerves, but he had some damn good blankets.
So, when the cold bite of air hit her, she glanced up, only to see a blur of red and blue shoot by and crash onto the floor. She glanced over and noticed that Spider-Man was crumbled on the floor, just a few feet away from the coffee table. Slowly, as though children flying through the window was a common occurrence, she set her work down and walked over.
"Nice field trip?" she asked, nudging him with her foot. The amused smirk that she wore quickly fell when she realized the boy wasn't moving or speaking, two things that were highly unusual for such a hyperactive kid. "Hey." She crouched next to him and touched his shoulder. "What the…?" Pulling her hand away, she noted how damp and cold the boy's suit felt.
"Hey, kid?" She shook him and he didn't stir. "Hey!" She called, her voice rising in volume. "Can I get some help in here?"
"Mister Stark and Mister Banner are coming," came the robotic voice that Natasha never really got used to. Still, it was comforting to know others were coming, so she could focus on the kid. She glanced down at Peter and noted with concern that her lips were a pale blue and his skin was ashen.
Natasha twisted around and grabbed the blanket she had just been wrapped in which was half on the couch and half on the floor. In one smooth swoop, she brought the blanket around and wrapped Peter up in it. It acted more like a towel than an actual blanket, but it couldn't hurt.
Finally, footsteps entered the room and Natasha jerked her head up to find Tony running into the room with Bruce not far behind.
"Peter!" Tony called out the moment he laid eyes on the boy on the floor. "What happened?" His eyes flickered to the red-haired woman and she sensed a hint of misplaced aggression. She would normally have taken issue with this look, but figured now was not the time.
"He came through the window, fell on the ground," Natasha replied. "That's it. He's freezing and wet."
"He's hypothermic," Bruce said. "That's what his vitals said." He crouched down and jeered a thumb at Tony. "This guy ran the minute he heard Peter was back and in trouble. I at least stayed behind to figure out what the hell was going on."
"Okay Doctor Know-it-all," Tony bit back, also bending down. He placed a hand on Peter's cheek and flinched at the chill that radiated. "Holy shit. Karen, report."
"Peter sustained multiple injuries while on patrol this afternoon." The clear AI voice rang through the room, now connected to the hidden speakers. "These injuries include a concussion, three bruised ribs, torn muscles, and a body temperature of eighty-nine degrees."
"Eighty-nine? Oh my God," Bruce whispered, grabbing the kid from Natasha's lap and wrapping him tighter in the blankets. "Get me a bed." A wall immediately opened up and a wheeled medical bed automatically rolled over to them. Within the next minute, Peter was loaded up and the three superheroes were rushing him to the infirmary.
Peter had never felt this warm before in his life. He was comfortable and snug and he never wanted to leave wherever he was. He felt light like he was floating, and at first, he couldn't feel himself. Then, slowly, feeling returned and he felt a comfortable weight on his chest. This was nice. This was so very nice.
All too soon, he started feeling other less comforting things. He felt the prick of a needle in his hand, heard the beeping of machines around him. He smelled the sharp sanitizer that was the tell-tale sign that he was in the infirmary. And then, his memories came back and he remembered the biting cold. How the chill seeped into his bones, making his whole body feel like it was made of cement. He struggled to remove those memories from his mind, not wanting to go back to those hours.
He knew he needed to wake up if only to remind himself that he was actually where he thought he was. It took a few tries and he couldn't be completely sure how much time had passed since he started trying to open his eyes, but eventually, his eyelids rose just enough to let in the dim light.
Blinking slowly, he found himself staring at a familiar white tiled wall. Glancing around as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, he saw the familiar machines and the familiar sheets and, turning his head to the side, a familiar chair. What surprised him, however, was that it was occupied by a relatively unfamiliar Avenger.
Natasha sat in the chair, reading through case files and jotting notes. She looked bored, yet focused and didn't notice Peter shifting in the bed. He wondered why she was there. He'd been in the infirmary countless times but not once did he remember the Black Widow coming to visit. She had never been mean to him, of course, but there just weren't many words passed between the mutant kid and the elusive assassin in the short time Peter had known the Avengers.
Peter flexed his fingers which, like the rest of him, were tucked tightly under the blankets. He then planted them down on the soft mattress and tried to pull himself up. This was a movement that Natasha registered and her eyes flickered over to the kid in the hospital bed.
"Oh good, you're not dead," she drawled, amusement evident in her voice. Peter looked over at her as he let himself fall back against the pillows with a pained 'oof.' "Stark's going to want to kill you himself."
"I didn't do anything wrong," Peter insisted, his voice hoarse. He paused for a moment, letting his words linger and studied the disbelieving look on Natasha's face. "Is Mister Stark really that mad?"
The woman shrugged and closed one of the case folders she had been working on. "Worried, I would say. He's been going between asking for updates every ten minutes and wanting to strangle you."
"Oh." Peter glanced around the room and then out the window to the empty hallway. He looked back at Natasha. "Where is he?"
"Asleep. It's three in the morning."
"Oh. What about you? Shouldn't you be sleeping?"
"Shouldn't you be?" Natasha shot back. Peter frowned at that and huffed against the pillows again. In the silence, the beeping of monitors filled the room and Natasha glanced at the machines. "You have a fever. You should go back to sleep."
Peter wanted to object, but with attention brought to his fevered state, he found himself growing tired. He didn't say anything else and Natasha didn't know he had fallen back asleep until she looked back over at him and found the boy breathing evenly. The smallest shadow of a smile graced her lips as she turned back to her work.
In the morning, Peter awoke to Tony who quickly ensured the boy was fine and then read him the riot act for being so completely careless and not coming back the minute the suit was compromised. Peter knew this came out of concern for his well being, so he remained silent as Tony lectured, only interjecting when he felt events were being misconstrued ("I didn't get thrown into the river by a boat. It was a bridge.")
The two were so focused on each other, they never noticed the Black Widow standing just outside, looking in the window at the pair with a particularly amused grin lingering on her lips.
So I found out that "whump" is a thing and got really excited that it was a real tag that has my favorite trope (because I guess saying "i love when my favorite characters get beat to hell and back and then recover" is kinda weird).
Saw infinity wars, found whump, got this idea. As I was writing it I was like holy fuck I love Black Widow and now I want her and Peter to be best friends. That's how this ended up being a BFF!Nat fic instead of Dad!Tony. Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!