LEGACY (T.Stark's Daughter)

CHAPTER THREE

Proud of you.

Stevie's eyes fluttered open and she lifted her head ever so slightly, attempting to figure out where she was. The last thing that she remembered was something being yelled about Tony, but that felt like hours ago now. She slumped back down when she realised that she had sat up too fast and decided to survey her surroundings from a reclined position.

Stevie's voice was strained, "Quill?"

Sat on various different chairs around her were Quill, Drax, Rocket and Groot. They jumped at the sound of her voice and leapt to her bedside.

"Avengers facility?" Quill nodded in response to her question and took off his headphones, the sound of Redbone's Come and Get Your Love droning quietly into the room.

"You were in a coma for ten years." Rocket mused.

"WHAT?"

"What!"

"I am Groot!?"

Quill reached over and slapped Rocket on the back of the head, sending him flying off of the hospital bed. "Don't say that kinda shit, man." He scolded the racoon, "She's already under stress." They all turned back to face her. "You were out for a couple hours. No biggie."

Groot shuffled in his seat, getting comfortable. "I am Groot." Your sister packed her stuff up and left with her boyfriend is the direct translation. "I am Groot." And Peter Parker fixed your science project.

"And I brought you a sandwich." Drax held out a sloppily-made peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off; just the way she liked it.

Smiling, Stevie nodded and thanked him as she eased herself back into a sitting position. "I made you a new tape." Peter suddenly pulled out a cassette tape and showed it to her.

She read the title, "'I'm glad you're not dead.' That's sentimental." Stevie chuckled, taking it from him, "there better be some AC/DC on here."

"Shoot to thrill." Quill replied. "And I Want It That Way is on there, too. I love the Backstreet Boys." He heaved out a sigh, pulling himself off of the bed. "Well now that we know you're not dead, we're going to head out. Stay cool, kiddo." He ruffled Stevie's hair, beginning to make his way out of the room.

"Quill?" He spun around to face her again. "Do you think that, maybe, one day, you could talk to me about your mom?"

There was no direct response from Peter. He broke his eye contact with her and nodded slowly, following Groot and Rocket out of the door. Drax was in the corner of the room, standing as still as possible. "I can see you, Bigfoot." He rolled his eyes and shuffled out of sight.

Not a moment later, MJ and Peter Parker scurried into the room, looking dishevelled and worried.

"Hey, loser!" Michelle had been married to Peter for about ten years, and they were expecting their first child now that they were both thirty and had stable jobs – an artist and the head of sciences at Stark Industries (and Spider-Man).

It seemed that MJ was the only person who understood Stevie sometimes. She requited the tough love that the young Stark gave her, which allowed them to become closer.

"Hey, Picasso." She smiled weakly, "How was the art show?"

"Decent. Everybody loved the Iron Man drawing." Michelle gave Stevie a weak smile, which was reluctantly requited. "Oh! We got your MIT letter. It came in the mail yesterday." She fumbled around in her handbag for a moment with paint-stained hands and eventually pulled out a crinkled letter with the MIT logo emblazoned upon it. "It woulda been a shame if you had died. Then I'd have to call MIT and tell them you'd passed and stuff."

Stevie was only fifteen – going on sixteen – but as mentioned previously, she's just like her father and was keen to receive her college education early. She legally wouldn't be able to attend the Massachusetts Institute of Technology until she was sixteen, which meant that she could officially begin applying to attend the school this year.

She began to rip open the letter, hastily pulling it out of the envelope to examine its contents, but before she could continue, Peter placed a hand over hers and dragged her attention towards him.

"Look, kid. I know that you really wanna be like Mr. Sta-" Peter coughed awkwardly, "Tony. I meant Tony... but, uh, just remember that you don't have to get into MIT early to make him proud, ok? You still have the rest of your life to get accepted."

Rolling her eyes at Peter's lame attempt to give her a fatherly lecture, she snatched the letter back off of him and eagerly skimmed the small print. "Dear Miss Stark... Yada yada yada... Oh!" Her eyes widened brightly, "YES!" She leapt upwards, ripping the breathing tube out of her nose. "I got in! I'm going to MIT... 'We're pleased to welcome you to the class of 2038!'"

Peter practically flew out of his chair and wrapped his arms around Stevie; the closest he'd ever get to hugging Tony again. "I knew you'd do it, squirt!" He pulled away from their embrace but kept his hold on her shoulders, "he would be so, so proud of you..." Glistening teardrops pooled in Peter's eyes, but he didn't dare let them fall. It had been sixteen years, he had to get over it.

Stevie, however, let her tears flood her cheeks. "Thank you." She muttered, a string of saliva connecting her lips as they trembled and she broke down in Peter's arms. After a moment or two, MJ stood up and joined their hug. She knew that it wasn't the right time for a lame pun or a witty joke, so she stayed silent and enjoyed the company of her two best friends.

"I'm proud." Peter's voice was muffled against her hair, "I'm so, so proud of you."