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Peter felt his airway constricting, and his tongue swelling. To think, it all started with a cookie.
But of course, you don't know how all this began. Peter guessed he should start at the beginning...
Peter grinned as he walked out of the elevator into the common room.
Tony's lips quirked up. "What's got you in such a good mood, Underoos?"
"Remember that History test I told you about?"
"The one you were worried about?" Natasha asked.
Peter nodded. "I aced it!"
"Good job, kid," Clint said from across the room
"Told you you'd pass," Bucky added.
The others gave similar congratulations, and patted him on the back.
"I think this calls for celebration," Tony said, easing his way to the counter where a large tupperware bowl was filled with cookies, but before he could grab it, Sam snatched it up.
"Nice try Tony. You along with everyone else can try mom's new cookie recipe after supper."
"She made a new recipe?" Peter asked.
"Sure did," Sam said.
Steve and Bucky came out of the kitchen, each carrying a large pot of what smelled like chili. Everyone was at the table before too long, and digging in. Once everyone was done, they wasted no time in pestering Sam about the cookies again. He finally relented, carrying over the cookies.
Clint took a bite. "Your mom makes the best cookies," He said with a full mouth, to which Natasha lightly hit him upside the head.
Peter gave a thumbs up in agreement, eating another cookie. They kinda had a peppermint taste and left his mouth tingling, but Peter assumed that was just a byproduct of how it made his mouth cold. It was getting harder to swallow for some reason. It wasn't like the cookies were abnormally dry or something.
"Pete, what's on your face?" Steve asked.
"I don't—" Peter tried to clear his throat of the odd lump to no avail. "I don't know."
"It looks like hives," Tony said. "You didn't have any of those before."
"Are you allergic to anything?" Bruce asked, rushing to a cupboard, searching for something a swearing when he didn't see it.
And that's how we got here. Peter struggling for breath at the table in Avengers tower. He lifted a hand to his throat. "I— I didn't think I was."
"We need to get him to the medbay," Bruce said.
Before Peter realized it, Bucky had him underneath the arms, and Steve had him by the feet, already heading to the elevator. The rest of the avengers weren't far behind.
Peter was laid in a bed as everyone darted around looking for an epipen, or rather the equivalent for someone with a metabolism as fast as his.
"Found it!" Sam called out, running over to Peter with the pen. He jabbed it into his leg, and the effect was near immediate. Peter took a deep breath, finally getting enough oxygen.
"What were in the cookies?" Tony asked.
"Normal cookie things? I mean, there was peppermint..." Sam trailed off for a moment, coming to a realization. "Spiders don't like peppermint."
"Wait, I'm allergic to peppermint?" Peter asked.
"I mean, we'll have to test it, but that's what it looks like," Bruce said.
"My only weakness," Peter deadpanned, flopping backwards. "Candy canes. How stupid."
"And probably bug spray," Clint said. "At least if this is anything to go off of."
Peter just sighed. He wondered how soon Tony would be suggesting putting an air purifier into his mask. "And probably bug spray."