(Thank you for the comments and support on the last chapter! I really you like this one too!)
Ned rolled over in his bed, trying to sleep but he just couldn't. His mind wouldn't shut up about Peter. Was he okay? How bad was he hurt? Did he actually call Mr Stark?
Being friends with Peter was awesome but it was also frustrating because the guy had a hero complex the size of Texas. He thought he had to save everyone and be strong and brave and that sometimes meant he downplayed his injuries.
Ned trusted Peter, of course, he did but he couldn't help but worry and he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until he knew he was okay. It had been a couple of hours since he'd talked to him, surely he was done with the doctoring by now.
So, he rolled over and grabbed his phone off his nightstand, pressing speed dial.
He sighed, holding his phone to his ear, feeling stupid. Peter was fine, he was probably already with the Avengers. He'd tell Ned he was okay and promise to see him tomorrow. Everything was fine.
The phone rang...and rang...and rang until finally, Peters' voice came through, muffled and interjected with loud chews as if he'd recorded the voicemail message while eating Doritos. In fact, Ned knew he had been because he'd been there.
"Hey, this is Peter. Uhh...I don't check my voicemail so just text me or-Ned stop-"
Ned listened to his own voice interrupt, loud and close to the phone as he'd run away with it. "Peters a giant nerd!"
The sound of them laughing cut off with a beep and Ned hung up, trying again.
Why wasn't he picking up? Ned listened to the message again, worry growing in his chest for each minute his calls went unanswered. And of course, he knew that there could be so many explanations as to why his best friend wasn't answering. Peter could be sleeping, or busy with the Avengers. He could have left his phone at home while he was getting his knee fixed or he could just be too busy to answer it.
But it didn't feel like that. Ned knew it was crazy but something inside him told him it was true. Something was wrong.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Something buzzed on the edge of Peters consciousness. It came and went, again and again, drawing Peter back to the light where everything hurt.
He wanted to stay asleep, where it was quiet and cold...it was cold? Peter groaned as something hissed, loud and incessant. Pain wracked through him, nausea coming with it and he sucked in a breath, eyes heavy.
His head was so sore, neck aching and stiff as pain throbbed through his skull and behind his eyes, nausea held back behind his teeth.
The buzzing came again, barely audible over the crashing water hitting him, freezing cold and far too loud. Why was it so loud? Peter peeled his eyes open, blinking through his blurred vision and trying to work out what he was seeing. He was laying at the bottom of the bathtub with a ...was that the shower curtain draped over him?
The water struck the plastic, making it ten times louder, almost covering up the sound of his phone ringing. That's what the noise was and Peter tried to sit up, finding his body too sore and cold and weak. He couldn't even sit up enough to see over the edge of the bath, legs curled up under the shower curtain, aching.
He reached a hand out, trying to grip the edge of the bath but he was so cold his fingers were numb, fingers refusing to even uncurl from his palm and he trembled, freezing water still running over every inch of him. His phone buzzed again and he let out a whimper, knowing that if he couldn't get up, he couldn't get help and he was already so cold.
"Help...me."
There was no point in calling out for help. He was the only one home, with May at work. He'd gone home instead of the compound because his knee had been too sore to swing all that way but now he was wishing he had.
"Help…" His voice was quiet and weak and his mind was sluggish but it slowly collected data from around him, coming to a dangerous conclusion.
His hands were numb, and his fingers looked almost...blue? That wasn't good and neither was the fact that he wasn't shivering. Cold people shivered, if not it meant they were…
Peter bit down another whimper. He was hypothermic.
Peter couldn't move, he couldn't get help and he was already hurt and getting worse but there was nothing he could do. He couldn't even get up to turn off the water
Peter felt a sob work its way up his throat, bursting out of him as he used his useless curled hands to try and drag the shower curtain further up his chest, giving him any sort of extra cover.
There wasn't anything he could do except hope that whoever was trying to call him would come to see why he wasn't answering. The phone buzzed twice more before finally falling silent.
Peter was alone. He closed his eyes, too tired to even cry as his mind slipped away again.
:::::::
"Dammit." Tony cursed as he got his finger too close to the part he was trying to solder, shaking out the burnt digit as he carried on with his work.
He had almost finished the part he was working on when his phone started ringing, vibrating in his back pocket. It was almost two in the morning, who could possibly be calling him?
He didn't bother taking the phone out of his pocket, calling up to his AI, who was connected to his phone anyway. "Friday, whos calling me?"
The answer came right away but it was not what he was expecting. "Ned Leeds. Peters friend. Would you like to answer it?"
Tony frowned, putting the soldering iron down. Why would Ned have his personal number? And why the hell would he be calling at such a late hour? "Yeah, send it through."
The call picked up, playing through the speakers in the lab and Tony called out. "Ned? Why do you have my number?"
A shaky, nervous voice came through, almost panicked. "Um, hi sir. Peter gave me your number for emergencies and I don't really know if this is one but I'm just worried because I've called him four times and he hasn't picked up and I kept telling myself he's fine but he said he'd call me back but he hasn't so-"
Tony stopped the boy in his rambling before he could pass out. "Take a breath, kid. He's probably just sleeping. Just like you should be."
The boy paused for a moment before his voice came back as a squeak. "You mean you haven't seen him?"
Tony frowned, not understand anything the teenager was saying. "No. Should I have?"
Ned squeaked again, voice raising as he grew increasingly upset. "Yes! He got hurt on patrols and he promised me he'd call you! Did he call you?"
"No." Peter had been hurt? Worry pierced through Tony's chest and he stood from his chair, hand running through his hair as his mind threw up horrible scenarios.
"How bad was he hurt?"
Ned sounded like he was about to cry, voice strained and stuttered. "uh...he-he said he was hit by a car and it wasn't so bad but there was something wrong with his knee. That was two hours ago. I made him promise to call you."
Tony closed his eyes, pressing a suddenly shaky hand over his face as he tried not to panic. "Dammit, Pete. Okay, I'm going to go find him. It'll be okay, Ned. Where did he call you from?"
"Home. Mays out all night, he's by himself."
Tony grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and ran out, shouting as he went. "I'm going to get him right now, I'll call you back when I have him! Friday, let Bruce know we might have an incoming patient."
"You got it, Boss."
:::::::
Tony drove way too fast, way too recklessly because his kid was alone and in trouble and Tony knew that as sure as he knew Peter was okay he'd be kicking his ass. What kind of person got hit by a car and just went home? Hadn't he told him a million times to tell him when something was wrong? Hadn't he made it impossible for the boy to get hurt without Karen telling him about it?
Where had he gone wrong? Where had he lost the teenagers trust enough that Peter didn't want to tell him when he was in pain?
Tony swerved around a corner, ignoring the red light he'd raced through on his way to Peter.
The apartment was quiet when Tony arrived and he shoved the door open, calling out in desperation. "Peter? Peter! Where are you?"
The kitchen and living room were empty and he made it to Peters bedroom, spotting the Spider suit strewn on the floor and he scooped it up to inspect. There were no obvious tears or blood stains that had to be a good sign.
But there was still no sign of the spider and he quickly made his way to the bathroom where something was hissing. "Peter?" He pounded on the locked door, listening to the loud rush of water.
"Peter, are you in there?" The shower was running but it was much too loud and there was no answer.
"Pete, answer me right now or I'm coming in."
No answer. Tony stepped back and kicked the door open, stomach dropping at the scene waiting for him.
Peter was laying in the tub, shower curtain pulled over him, water cascading over him. Tony ran in, words pouring from his mouth as he noted the closed eyes, pale face and blue lips.
"No, no, no. Peter? Shit."
Tony turned the water off and reached down, pressing his fingers to that pale throat, praying to whoever was listening that he would find a pulse. Peter looked dead but if he was if he'd- Tony sucked in a breath of relief, pressing a palm to Peters bare chest. "You're alive. You're okay, buddy. I'm gonna get you out."
Peter didn't move, blue lips slightly parted as water dripped off him, running down his cheek like the tear he'd be crying if he were awake. Tony grabbed a towel off the rack and pulled the shower curtain down to the boy's waist, draping the towel across his chest.
"Everything's going to be okay, buddy. I'm here now."
Peter was limp and frigid as Tony slipped an arm behind his back, pulling him up and using his other arm to wrap the towel around him. "Come here, kid."
The teenager was dripping wet, soaking the towel almost as soon as it was around him but Tony didn't care. He lifted Peter out of the bath and cradled him to his chest, carrying him to the bedroom.
Peters' eyes flickered as Tony set him down, hand shoving into his pocket to find his phone. "Peter? You waking up buddy?"
Tony pressed speed dial, holding his phone to his ear with one hand while the other rubbed over Peters' chest to try and rouse him.
The call picked up after two rings and Tony felt almost dizzy with relief. "Bruce? I need you at Peters place. I found him in the bathtub unconscious and hypothermic."
"What? Oh my god. How bad is he?"
Tony looked down at the kid in front of him, soaked brown curls stuck in loops across that pale forehead, lips blue and slightly parted with nothing but shallow puffs of air coming through.
"Bad. He doesn't do well in the cold, Bruce."
The line was silent for a second, fear making them both freeze for just a moment before Bruce spoke again. "I'll be there as soon as I can. You know what to do?"
Tony nodded, phone squeezed tight in his hand. "Yeah, dry him off, keep him warm, wake him up."
"Good. I'll be there soon."
Tony put the phone down, feeling suddenly very alone. Peters' eyes were rolling under their lids but he wasn't showing any other signs of waking up.
"Peter? Come on, buddy. Come back to me." Tony kept up a stream of nonsensical rambles as he stripped off his own shirt and sat on the edge of the bed, tugging Peters towel down to his waist.
"I'm gonna warm you up, kid. Everything's going to be okay but I need you to wake up."
His hands slipped under the boys back, preparing to lift him when he spotted a bright pool of red. Tony froze, one hand going to the back of Peters' head and coming back just as bright. "Are you bleeding? Why are you bleeding? God, Pete, what happened?"
Peter didn't move, bare chest rising and falling so slowly Tony had to watch it for a moment to make sure the kid was actually taking in air. "Okay, you just keep breathing, buddy. I'll do the rest. Come here."
Tony slipped his hands under Peters frigid back and tipped him up to lean against his chest, arm wrapping around him. His warm chest pressed against Peters back and he shivered, hissing. "Jesus, you're a popsicle, Pete."
Tony held the boy against him with one hand while the other grabbed the edge of the duvet they were sitting on and wrapped it around them. He pulled Peter close, turning him so his face could press to Tony's neck, small puffs of air against his skin letting him monitor his breathing.
"Bruce is coming, kiddo. He'll fix you right up, you'll see." Tony pulled the duvet right around them before grabbing his own discarded shirt and pressing it to the back of Peters' head, rocking slowly.
"Everything's going to be okay, Pete. You just...you have to wake up now."
Peter didn't move against him save for the slow rise and fall of his skinny chest and Tony squeezed him tighter, rocking the both of them.
"We'll be okay. Please be okay."
(I hope you liked it? Let me know. Last chapter coming tomorrow probably)