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lucy-anne02 · 5 years

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“What is a Build-a-Bear?” Nebula’s rasping voice framed the words like they were a foreign language, careful and slow.

Tony blinked at her. He was still in the Medbay, slowly recovering from starvation, oxygen deprivation, and the last of his stab wound. The time between getting off the ship and waking up here was blurry. Nebula, who had suffered from hunger much less than Tony, had come to visit him while Captain Danvers and the raccoon prepared their ship to go find Thanos.

“What?” he croaked.

“You called Rocket a Build-a-Bear.”

He didn’t remember doing that, but it sounded like him.

“Oh. It’s a stuffed animal,” Tony explained listlessly, picking at his blanket. “It’s for kids.”

Peter’s room was a mishmash of Lego figurines, science apparatus, and second-hand furniture. Tony glanced around, taking it in. The last time he’d been here recruiting the kid, the space had been much more bare. He smirked as he saw the Star Wars spaceships, but it turned into a wicked grin when he caught sight of a red and gold stuffed animal.

“Kid, what is that?”

Peter looked around from where he’d been rummaging in his desk for his spare webshooter. He saw where Tony was looking and his cheeks immediately flushed.

“Um. A… birthday present.”

Tony reached out and picked it up. The little bear had gold Iron Man masks all over his crimson fur and was wearing a shirt and pants that looked like the Iron Man armor, complete with a tiny glowing arc reactor and a cloth mask.

“It looks new,” he remarked casually.

“It isn’t!” Peter hurriedly assured him, rushing over and trying to snag it from Tony’s hands. Tony pulled it closer to his chest, raising an eyebrow at Peter.

“Don’t get grabby, Parker,” he chided. “Now, come here, we’re taking a selfie.”

“You give these slain creatures to your children?” Nebula asked. Her voice and face were as emotionless as ever, but there was something like disgust in the tilt of her head.

Tony, jerked out of his thoughts, took a second to catch up.

“What? No! Geez, no. They’re not real animals, they’re made of cloth.”

“Cloth,” Nebula repeated, sounding dubious.

“Yeah.” He hesitated for a second. “Come here, I’ll show you.”

He reached over to the bedside table, where he’d slammed his phone down half a second after Rhodey gave it to him. He’d taken a single glance at the lock screen photo—one of Peter with engine grease all over his face, the car he and Tony had restored together barely visible in the background—and promptly hyperventilated until he passed out. He hadn’t touched the phone since, and his hands shook as he reached for it now.

He swallowed hard, unlocking his phone and carefully not looking at his background picture—this one of him, Peter, and Pepper all asleep on the couch. He opened his camera gallery and quickly scrolled through the file of photos of Peter, trying not to see any of them, any of the hundreds of memories that would forever more be nothing but agonizing reminders of his own failure.

He overshot the one he was looking for and had to go back, but finally he pulled up a picture of Peter’s Iron Man Build-a-Bear, his own hand holding it up to the camera.

Nebula crowded around the head of the bed, peering down at the screen. She looked at it critically for a second, glancing between it and Tony.

“What is it’s function?” She finally asked.

“Kids cuddle with them,” Tony replied. She looked confused. “You know, hug them?”

Nebula shook her head.

“Oh geez. Um. Like, like this.” Finger hesitating for a second, Tony swiped to the next picture. His breath stuttered in his lungs.

Beaming up at him from the screen was the ghost of Peter Parker, bright and young and perfect. The teddy bear was tucked under his chin and his cheeks still faintly pink with embarrassment. Tony had had to make a really stupid “dad joke" to even get Peter to smile. In the picture they’d taken together, Peter was mid eye-roll.

Tony’s thumb hovered over the image as if about to caress the boy’s face. He could feel Nebula looking at him, knew she recognized Peter as the kid that had died in Tony’s arms. And even if she hadn’t, she still would have known—she was the one that had heard him screaming Peter’s name in his sleep, whispering apologies to the Peter he hallucinated once the infection took hold.

“Why do they… cuddle them?” Nebula made a face at the word and Tony snorted, still staring at his screen.

“Us humans do that. We, um, need physical contact.”

Tony woke up to the hazy awareness that came with heavy medication. He remembered the entire fight, this time, and groaned quietly. His injuries would take forever to heal, his busted knee would probably ache for the rest of his life. Getting old sucked. But taking the brunt of the damage was worth it as long Peter got to grow old, too.

Speaking of Peter, Tony felt a suspiciously Peter-shaped weight against his side. He peeled an eye open and, sure enough, Peter was tucked up against him, his arm over Tony’s stomach.

“Kid,” Tony groaned. Peter looked up at him, a nasty bruise on his temple.

“Mr. Stark.”

“What are you doing here?” Tony asked, fighting the pull of medication trying to make him fall asleep again.

“Human contact helps dull pain,” Peter told him. He pressed himself a little closer. “Is it working?”

“Better than morphine,” Tony said drily. Peter made an aggravated noise at his sarcasm.

“I’m trying to help,” Peter whispered.

Tony sighed, shifting a little so that Peter’s head was nestled more comfortably against his shoulder.

“You know you don’t have to feel guilty, buddy. You really don’t.”

“And you know that I do anyway, so just let me…” Peter trailed off.

“Let you cuddle me?”

Peter nodded shyly.

“It’s the only thing I can do for you right now.”

Tony closed his eyes. This kid.

“Eases pain, you say?”

“And helps you sleep,” Peter added, his own words getting thicker as he started to doze against Tony’s chest.

Tony ducked his head and lightly kissed Peter’s bruised temple.

“Well, heaven knows I could use some of that.”

Tony jerked himself out of his own thoughts this time. The picture of Peter was blurry now, and Tony blinked hurriedly to dispel the tears.

“Do you… don’t alien kids have something like that?” he asked.

Nebula’s dark eyes stared at him for a long moment.

“I don’t know.”

Right. Suckiest dad in the universe.

“Tell you what, when I’m up and moving again, and you’re back from your space adventure, we’ll go get you one.”

Nebula worked her jaw for a moment, like she was going to argue, but her eyes betrayed curiosity and a little bit of excitement in her gaze.

“Fine.”

Marching up to a Build-a-Bear after the end of the world with an ex-homicidal blue alien was pretty high up on Tony’s list of ‘weirdest things I’ve ever done,’ but he glared at the shop attendant that cowered behind the counter as if it was totally normal.

He’d been a little surprised the place was still open, actually. Plenty of stores had had to close their doors after the Snap, too short staffed or without managers and owners.

This was the same store he’d come to with Peter. It still smelled the same. The memory punched the air out of his lungs.

“Keep your eyes closed, Pete.”

Peter scowled. “Mr. Stark, people are giving us weird looks. I can feel it.”

“Chill out. Just a couple more seconds.” With both hands on Peter’s shoulders, Tony steered them through the brightly lit store, around little kids and stands with tiny clothes hanging on little cardboard hangers. When they reached the right spot, Tony reached out tipped Peter’s chin down so that he’d see the surprise right when he opened his eyes. The kid didn’t even flinch at the unexpected touch and Tony’s lungs constricted at the trust Peter put in him.

“Alright, kiddo. Go ahead.”

Peter opened his eyes.

“No way…”

There, at the end of the line of Avengers themed teddy bears, was a red plush with spider web patterns all over it. It was wearing a replica of the Spider-Man suit and had a mask shoved up on it’s head, smushing the ears.

“Congrats, kid, you’ve joined the ‘recognizable enough to make a profit’ league,” Tony laughed, both hands still on Peter’s shoulders.

“Oh my gosh!” Peter picked up the stuffed animal, running his fingers over it. He tugged the mask over the bear’s face.

“Looks just like you, Pete,” Tony joked, grinning widely. Peter gave his arm a soft whack.

“This is amazing. I have to take a picture and show Ned. He’ll freak,” Peter rambled, fishing for his phone in his pocket.

“Or you could just show him in person.”

“It’s a bit far to come—” Peter started, looking around at the store with a furrow between his eyebrows.

“I’m obviously going to buy you one, kid,” Tony interrupted, rolling his eyes. “To add to your collection.”

Peter blushed. “Mr. Stark.”

“After all, you can’t have Iron Man without his loyal sidekick Spider-Man, can you?”

Peter pursed his lips, but there was something soft and awed in his face, like being Iron Man’s sidekick was a dream come true. “Not your sidekick, Mr. Stark.”

“I know, kiddo,” Tony assured him, ruffling his hair. “Now, come on, show me how this works.”

Twenty minutes later, they were leaving with a new teddy bear, the little pseudo-birth certificate that came with reading ‘Underroos.’

“Your face is leaking.” Nebula’s voice startled him so badly he flinched. His hands flew up to his face, wiping away the tears on his cheeks.

“Right. Sorry.” Nebula didn’t say anything. It was one of the best things about her.

“What do I do?” she asked, a little quieter as if embarrassed to not know.

“Just pick one you like,” Tony said shrugging, walking around the store and peering at each bin full of animals waiting to be stuffed. Nebula trailed along behind him, examining them as if wary they would come alive and bite her.

When they came to the Avengers ones, Tony paused. The Spider-Man bear was still there, the crate almost empty. The only ones that seemed more popular were Iron Man and Captain America. Tony smiled a bit. Peter would flip if he knew he’d beaten out Thor.

“That’s your son,” Nebula remarked, a touch surprised.

Tony swallowed, looking at the little plushie. He decided not to correct her. “Yeah. He, uh, he’s pretty popular, here on Earth.”

Nebula stooped and picked out a Spider-Man bear. “I like this one,” she proclaimed, with a confidence that surprised Tony. She’d never expressed real preference or dislike for anything before.

Tony cleared his throat. “You… you don’t have to get that one, just cause it’s—You don’t have to get that one for me.”

“I like this one,” she said again.

“Alright, Bluebell.” She glanced up at him at the nickname. “Let’s go get you your very first stuffed animal.”

After the bear had been stuffed, the little heart placed inside—Nebula had been very confused at that part—and closed up, the worker left them to pick out clothes and whatever else they wanted. Nebula looked at the bear in her hands for a long moment, and then raised it and tucked it under her chin, mimicking what she had seen Peter doing in the picture Tony had showed her. Tony watched, one eyebrow raised, as she stood like that for a long moment, eyes closed.

When she opened her eyes, she looked at Tony.

“I see,” she said simply. Tony smiled.

Two weeks later, as she and Rocket boarded their ship to leave Earth, Nebula had her little Spider-Man bear—decked out in an Iron Man outfit, at her insistence—under her arm.

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