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Peter was sitting on the couch of the Avengers common room. He was craving TANGERINES no matter what Mr. Stark was on about with ‘You can’t have tangerines’. He didn’t care about them making him sick, he craved them. He shot up to go to the kitchen to grab his stash—gone. Someone stole his tangerines, he screamed
“WHERE ARE MY TANGERINES” rang throughout the tower along with the horror of anyone who heard the manic scream. He paced around getting more and more on edge the longer he went knowing he had no tangerines. He had started hyperventilating, and his pacing turned into manic crawling across the walls and ceiling. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he smelled tangerines in the distance. He crawled quickly throughout the halls until he escaped the tower.
Peter sprinting in the streets, his spider-sense going hardwire. He didn't care about the cars or people in the streets; he just kept running until he found a store. He instantly found the tangerines with the other fruits, and immediately started devouring them. The sweet juice that filled his mouth gave him a rush like no other even the peel was devoured in his high. Peter quickly took the rest of the tangerines in the store and rushed back to the tower
Peter sat on the couch, once white and shiny now soaked through with tangerine juice, was strangely vacant of any form of life, the only sound the soft patter of rain against the metal roof. The television still blared the news, and the faint sound of a siren added to the ambience of the night. Peter continued to eat his tangerines soaking the couch even more, but as he continued to feed he felt his chest tighten. He looked down at his hands, they were shaking, and covered in hives. Peter knew deep down he needed to stop but he couldn’t. The tangerines were too good, too sweet for him to stop. He just kept eating and eating and eating and eating and eating and eating…until it was too late. He felt as the tangerines caught up to him. His spidey sense made it worse. It screamed at him, but it was too late.
His final moments weren’t in peace, in fact it was quite the opposite. He slumped back against the sticky couch, as everything screamed at him, he was in agony utter mind-numbing agony. His stomach had finally rejected the tangerines. As he was slumped against the couch he felt the vomit and bile rise up his throat. He couldn’t move anymore so he was stuck slowly choking on his own puke while his skin bubbled and oozed. After he finally died of suffocation and overdose he found peace, peace he hadn’t felt since his parents were alive.
Tony and the rest of the team found him a few minutes later. Tony ran to him with tears in his eyes. He knew it was too late to save his kid, but that didn’t stop him from screaming for FRIDAY and the tower's medical staff. He turned Peter to the side trying to avoid the oozing hives all over his body. He started doing CPR, he felt Peter’s ribs crack underneath his hands. He sobbed and screamed as he was pulled away by Pepper and Rhodey. He needed his son, he couldn’t lose him, not again.