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Cursing. Kidnapping. Near death experience. Trigger warning. Reader discretion advised.
Also, this is a bit skip y. Fair warning.

The soft heat of the living room pressed against the exposed part of your face. You were currently situated on the couch, turtled deep in the folds of an enormous comforter, staring at the flat screen TV in front of you. The weather man was showing on screen a awful looking snow storm with a look of ill-disguised delight on his face.

"15-25 inches..." You groan, slumping against the back of the couch. You have a nasty feeling that you might well spend the next few days breaking your back shoveling. With a painful sigh, you pull your phone out to text Matt.

'Heeeeelp meeee.'

'ha cant handle a little snow?'

'Freaking Canadian menace'

'fuck u 2'

'Uuuuuugh no food in the house what am I gonna dooooo?'

'go shopping u moron'

With a resigned grunt, you figured he was probably right. Dreading the freezing temperatures, you hesitantly left the snugly comfort of the thick blanket, and donned thick winter gear. Flicking off the lights, and grabbing your phone, keys, and wallet, you stepped out into the storm.

Several blocks later, as you trudge through the light frost already in place on the sidewalk on your way to the store, something makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. It's not so much that you heard it, it's more that you sense it. You don't stop. Something tells you not to. Then you hear a sudden scuffling behind you. Before you can do anything, someone roughly grabs your shoulder, and a rag is shoved over your mouth an nose. You tense up, struggling while trying not to breathe. It doesn't work. You manage to land a kick to the attacker's foot, and in their pain, their grip slackens slightly. You try to take advantage of the temporary lack of strength, but you're head is swimming, and in a moment, the grip on your face is back; doubly strong this time. As the smell of chloroform invades your senses and your vision goes dark, your last thought is that it has started to snow.

                                                                                                  ~o0o~

You awake to the jostling motion of the back of a van, and the mother of all headaches. Your thick parka, mittens, and scarf had been removed, and your hands were bound with rope. You staggered to your feet, stumbling into the sides of the van. Finally, bruised and battered, you located the doors. With a few strong kicks, you busted the doors open, thanking Loki and Thor that your captors hadn't taken your thick soled boots. You tumbled out of the van, into a clear six inches of snow. Thick, fat flakes were still falling heavily. Shivering, you hurry away from the open backed van.

                                                                                                ~o0o~

It had been hours since your escape from the van, and you had long since chewed through the ropes binding your wrists together. The remnants of it were hanging over your hand, and the marks where they had cut into your skin were plainly visible. You were so cold, you could feel it in your bones. All you were worrying about now was that you would fall, and wouldn't have the heart to get up. And this was exactly what happened. Your knees caved, and you keeled right over in the snow, unable to get up. you simply lay there, staring up into the darkening sky. Your lips were chapped and bleeding, and all you could feel was cold. Despite the pressing situation, you couldn't help but feel peaceful.

This isn't that bad... You thought, before you closed your eyes and let your consciousness slip away.

                                          ~o0o~

Unbeknownst to you, a certain blonde Canadian with an attitude was currently livid with fury. He was staggering through a full on blizzard, looking for you. It had been at least four hours since you had last contacted him, and he had been trying to get in touch with you for what seemed like years. He had tracked your phone out this far, but had lost the signal as the storm got worse. With a frustrated sigh, he turned to his companion. "Find her, Kuma." The enormous bear-like wolfhound barked and lifted his nose to the storm. Then, he took off, and Matt had to run to keep up. By the time Kuma had stopped, Matt was thoroughly out of breath. But when he stopped next to Kuma, his mind was far from his own pain. There, in the snow, were you. You were paler than he'd ever seen you, and in the harsh wind, he couldn't even tell if you were breathing. he tugged off one of his gloves, and knelt to press his fingers against your face. You were as cold as the snow around you. Then Kuma brought his attention to another detail.

Kuma whined, and as Matt looked over, he felt mixed emotions bubble up in his chest. Kuma had the remnants of the rope around your wrist in between his teeth. The angry red marks on your skin made Matt's blood boil. He made up his mind. "Come on, Kuma." He hoisted you into his arms, and started to make his way back toward civilization.


                                                                                                ~o0o~

When you woke next, you were freezing. Even though you were wrapped in numerous blankets, you were so cold. You looked around. It took a while before where you were to register in your frozen brain. As you tried to sit up, a hand came down on your shoulder. "Lie back down, dumbass." Matt's voice sounded in your ear. "Hey, Mattie." You laughed weakly, and groaned, putting a hand to your forehead, the movement too much for your body. He frowned, forgetting to even complain and/or threaten about the nickname. He pushed you back onto the couch you lay on, and replaced your hand with his on your forehead.

  "You have hypothermia," You didn't say anything. Matt looked as if he was struggling with some great inner battle. "What the fuck were you doing, (Name)?! I was looking for you for ages!" He exploded suddenly. You grin sheepishly. "It's kind of a long story..." You trailed away at the look on Matt's face.

He took a deep breath, forced himself to be calm, and asked, "What happened? Start to finish."

Slowly, you began to explain what had occurred. When you got to the point where you had collapsed, all of Matt's anger seemed to drain away. He looked pale, and sick. You paused. "Matt? You okay?" He shook his head, and buried his face in his hands. A little alarmed at this point, you took in his appearance. He was dressed in his characteristic jeans and plaid button-up, with the front unbuttoned, exposing the bandages on his torso. All in all, he looked the same.... except that he didn't.

  "Matt?" He looked up, rubbing his eyes. "I'm going out. Get some sleep."

You smiled, and snuggled into the thick blankets. "Don't kill too many people."

Before he could reply, you had drifted off again. Had you been conscious, you would have felt his lips drift over your forehead.