Peter could feel his head spinning. "Ngh..." He said, groaning in pain.
He woke up to blinding white lights that made him instantly wince as he covered his eyes.
He could have someone scribbling on a piece of paper from the other room. It sounded like a teacher scratching on a chalkboard.
He heard a faucet dripping. Each drop of water sounded like someone hitting a boulder with Mjolnir, Thor's hammer.
Peter pulled the blanket over his head, but it didn't do anything to the blinding white lights.
He curled into a ball and whimpered. The sound of the pen scribbling, people walking, and faucet dripping was too much.
That plus the blinding lights. The atrocious smell of bacon, eggs, and ham filled his noise.
Normally, it was good, but it smelled so strong. He had to suppress the urge to gag. The smell was too much.
Peter pulled an IV out of his arm. Where am I? Peter asked himself.
YOU ARE READING
Mr. Stark?
FanfictionStory about Peter going into the past after Tony died. He was sent to day with the Ferry.
