[Flynn can hear the intense cold seeping more and more into Peter's inflection and his mind draws up a checklist of hypothermia facts that he doesn't want, that he wants to forget, to unlearn, but it won't let him. They are there, at the forefront, as if mocking him in his impotence. He presses his knuckle to his forehead, fighting back a sob when his heart breaks at the thought of his friend out there somewhere, out of reach, dying.
Dying.]
Don't. Don't say that, don't... I don't want you to be alone. I won't let you!
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Dying.]
Don't. Don't say that, don't... I don't want you to be alone. I won't let you!