Chapter Text
Peter took in the current situation inside Dad’s lab at the family cabin. He and Harley were crowded on one table, deep in thought about the finishing touches of their own Baymax. Dad was on another table, busy with his own project. Tasha was comfortable on the bean bag, immersed in the world between the book’s pages.
The lab at the family cabin wasn’t as grand nor spacious as the workshop back at the Tower, but it still didn’t seem overcrowded even with four people currently in it. He suspected even if Mom came in after her emergency online meeting for SI and Morgan woke up from her afternoon nap, there’d still be plenty of space for them to move around and do whatever they wanted to do individually.
The last notes of Tasha’s current song obsession faded out and he was almost certain she didn’t hear a word of it with how engrossed she was in the book between her hands. Not that he could blame her. He only heard the latter half of the song and none of the previous ones because he had been too absorbed by the problem in front of him.
The Stark version of Baymax was designed like a smaller Hulkbuster with the animated character’s main function and overall attitude. Him and Harley debated about keeping the latter as it didn’t seem essential (a sarcastic and annoying one would probably work best in the household it’d operate in), but they ultimately decided for it because the original softness and innocence seemed fun to interact with. They have yet to come up with its official name, but they have already incorporated everything they wanted in the design’s blueprints — including where their Baymax would store its lollipop stash.
Yet, still, looking at the project’s basically completed blueprint, Peter couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied; like something was missing.
He was aware they could just add whatever it was that was missing at a later date, specifically during an update, but Harley also had the same concern. His brother, too, didn’t want to proceed with the prototype building until they pinpoint whatever it was and address it. The only problem was, he had no clue why he felt unsatisfied with the design, either.
Peter heard his older brother sigh. "Atasha, can you come here for a second?"
"Wait," Tasha straightened her pointer finger to signal her response. A moment later, her book — The Land of Stories, as the largest font read — closed with a sound.
He took in the slight crease of her forehead and the faraway look in her eyes when she walked closer to their work table, her book lied abandoned on the bean bag. "Why do you look like that?" He questioned, curious and worried all at once.
She shook her head, dismissing his worry, "The main characters got tricked so, now, I’m—" She stopped short, unwilling to explain any further. "Never mind that. What do you need me for?"
"Critique these," Harley angled the blueprints her way. "Pietro and I think there’s a problem, but we can’t figure out what."
Tasha hummed as she looked over the prints. "Who do you have in mind for your Baymax to help?"
"Us four and the Avengers," Peter answered. "Mom and Uncle Happy, too, in case they also need patch-ups."
"Is it meant to replace Medbay visits?"
"Just for quick fixes and first aid," it was their older brother’s turn to respond. "Initial diagnosis for anything beyond that, at most."
"I see," she accepted thoughtfully. She stayed silent as she viewed the rest of the pages and, for the life of him, he couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.
Here was the thing about Atasha, the thing that set her apart: she might not have the passion for anything science-related like they did, but she still had the talent for it that was almost on-par with theirs. (Sure, her science skills weren’t as sharp, but it was arguably still far better than most.) Her mind wasn’t boxed to think scientifically and, thus, she could see and view things in a light they couldn’t — making her a great third opinion on projects.
"Are you commercializing this or it is strictly for personal use?" She inquired eventually after she reached the end of the blueprints.
"Just personal use," Peter replied. "One for the top floors and probably a second one for the Medbay, too. Maybe."
Tasha hummed again albeit that time, it was followed by her notes. "I think your software design idea is fine as it is. I like how you basically kept the original Baymax’s programming and just built onto it. But—" She paused as she flipped through the blueprints and only continued once she located the page she was looking for, "—I’m not really a fan of making it completely metal, to be honest. It feels impersonal and uncomforting . . . Not very Baymax."
"Right," Harley nodded thoughtfully. "To make it entirely of metal is the same as making it an armor, caging whatever warmth it has inside."
"The armor may make it invincible from attacks, but it’d also hinder it from emotionally connecting with anyone," Peter added on in agreement.
"Exactly," she approved of their train of thought, as though she knew they were approaching the same station hers was. "Since it’d only be for Tower use, I don’t see why you can’t make your Baymax like a cuddly marshmallow, too. You can’t get sued for bringing an animated character to life for personal use."
She only received a thoughtful hum in acknowledgement and a belated "You’re a genius, Tash" as both Peter and Harley immediately dived back into work and discovered what she brought to their attention was the problem they had been trying to find all along.
(Tasha didn’t like the compliment, but they both stood by it.)