The following morning at breakfast, Nellie barely touched her toast. Her appetite had been unusually dull since she'd heard the news of Tony's death.

"Darling, is there anything else I can fix up for you?" Pepper leaned across the counter, giving Nellie's toast a poke. "Want me to heat this up for you again?"

Nellie frowned, "I don't think reheating the toast for the third time is going to make it any better, Pep. It's not the food; it's me. I'm sorry." She apologized, forcing a small bite in her mouth.

Peter on the other hand was at the other end of the kitchen island shoveling in scrambled eggs, bacon, and a glass of orange juice like it was nobody's business.

"Nell, I'll eat it if you won't," Peter spoke up with a mouth full of food.

Aunt May threw the newspaper down she'd been reading and found the closest thing to her -- a toy pony Morgan had left on the dining table -- and threw it.

Nellie watched as it bounced off of his forehead, causing him to nearly choke on his bacon.

"Ow, May! What was that for?" Peter groaned, rubbing the red spot on his head.

May got up from the table and met Nellie at the island, "She's skin and bones as it is, Peter. You're not taking the girl's food. Here, sweet bean, I know what will make this better!"

As if Pepper read her mind, she pulled the refrigerator doors open and snatched some grape jelly from the shelf.

Nellie felt a small smile form on her face as she took the jelly from Pepper's hands, "My favorite."

Aunt May winked, "Eat up, buttercup. Before this one," she eyed Peter, "laps it up like a dog."

Peter hopped down from his bar stool and placed his empty plate in the sink, "I don't appreciate the personal attacks on my appetite, Aunt May. I was dusted and gone for five years. Now I'm back and I can't enjoy a delicious, home-cooked breakfast?" He inquired, giving Pepper a gracious smile.

Before anyone could respond, Morgan burst into the room having been out on the porch playing with her toys. "Mommy, the man with the eye patch is back. He's just outside the door," she hummed, pointing to the door.

Nellie narrowed her eyes and leaned over, attempting to look out of the window. She could barely see the back of whom she could only assume was Nick Fury. Though she'd only actually met him the day before at the funeral, she'd heard Peter talk about him. If he was here, he meant business. And if he meant business, then he was likely here for Peter.

Peter shook his head, "No, no I don't want to talk to him today."

Pepper held back a laugh, "Yeah, no. He does not operate that way. If he is here for you, you're going out there. But let me talk to him first."

She gave her youngest daughter a pat on the head before disappearing out onto the front porch.

"Think he needs you for a mission already? Not even a day has passed since we put Dad -- Tony -- in the ground. . ." Nellie sighed, looking to Peter for reassurance she knew he couldn't give her.

He shrugged, "I don't care, I'm not going. I'm taking the summer off."

Nellie found this extremely hard to believe; Peter helping people was his thing. There was no way he could live a Spider-man free summer.

Fury had pushed past Pepper and made his way into the cabin, "Well, it looks like you just checked into summer school, Parker."

Peter used his sleeve to wipe away the orange juice mustache he'd somehow managed to ignore for the last two minutes, "Hey, hello, sir. Um, you remember Nellie and Aunt May," Peter poked a hand out, pointing at his girlfriend and aunt.

Fury nodded, looking between the two of them briefly, "My memory goes back farther than 24 hours, Parker. Cut the shit --"

"Hey!" Pepper raised her voice, cupping her hands over Morgan's ears. "Language, Nick."

Fury clenched his teeth, "I'm sorry, I'm not used to having an audience."

Aunt May intervened, flashing her pearly whites. Normally she was charming, but Nellie didn't pick Nick Fury as one to be amused by her.

"Nick. . .can I call you that?" May tried, walking into the living room where he now stood firmly.

Peter looked like a deer in the headlights, "She-she's joking, sir. Uh, Mr. Fury."

May shot Peter a look, "Listen, Mr. Fury, Peter and Nellie have been through a lot these past few days. Peter and I are staying here for a bit longer so the kids can spend some time together. You know, to help with the grief."

Nellie let her head fall into her forehead. Unbelievable, she thought. She knew Nick Fury the least out of all of them but somehow felt smart enough to know that nothing coming out of Aunt May's pretty red lips would make Fury turn around and walk out of that door without Peter's shirt collar in hand.

By this point, Pepper had exited the room with Morgan in her arms. Nellie wondered if May, too, would soon surrender.

Fury cocked his head to the side, looking past May to Peter, "You know what, I've been through a lot these past few days, too. And you know what would help my grief?"

Peter shrugged nervously, his lips quivering as he tried to come up with something.

Please don't, Peter, Nellie thought. Just don't.

"Some orange juice?"

And there it is.

Peter held the glass of orange juice out, though now it was less than half full. His arm was visibly shaking.

Bad habits die hard, Nellie thought.

Aunt May moved to the side, realizing that her efforts were useless. Fury crossed the room and removed the glass from Peter's trembling hand, and placed it back on the marbled island.

"I'm a busy man, Peter Parker. Don't waste my time and I won't waste yours. Stark chose you for a reason, and I respect his choice--"

"But?" Nellie piped up, not even realizing that the words had escaped her until Fury's eyes, well. . .eye was on her.

Fury released his grip on the glass, the once bubbly orange juice now still, "But Peter needs training. A lot of it. And training happens in New York."

"The Avengers Facility was destroyed. The compound is nothing but ashes and chunks of concrete now, sir. Why can't Peter do his training here?" Nellie puzzled, her face turning as red as a tomato by challenging the man.

Peter was out of Fury's view using his hands to symbol for Nellie to stop talking, though she ignored him. Both she and Peter had a lot to face that summer, without Tony. And after all, Peter was just a boy. He needed time to grieve and reconstruct before returning back to the world of heroism. She wasn't ready to let him go just yet.

"Pardon me, Miss. Someone's been doing their summer reading," Fury spoke, turning back to Peter.

Peter dropped the hand signals quickly, but Nellie assumed Fury had seen him all along in the reflection on the window behind Nellie.

"Sir, I would love to train with you, but I've got some stuff I need to take care of here first." Peter managed to get out a full sentence without a single stutter for the first time since Fury had entered the home. Nellie couldn't help but feel a little bit proud of him for it.

To this, Fury nearly laughed, though Nellie guessed he rarely truly laughed because anything was funny. No, this was a scoff more like it.

"Boy, I never said I would be the one training you. And stuff," He scoffed again, "What stuff could be more important than following in Stark's footsteps?"

This caused the dull aching in Nellie's chest to strength; now it was a piercing feeling. His words cut deep.

Peter took his seat on the bar stool again, now tapping his finger nervously against the countertop.

"She is," Peter mumbled, barely audible above the sound of the anxious tapping.

"Parker, the suit isn't seasonal. You don't get to choose when the world needs you. I do. Stark told me you were an Avenger now, is that not true?" Fury asked firmly, shifting on his feet.

The quiet squeaking of his black leather jacket as he moved was the only sound that filled the silence for a moment.

"The funeral was just yesterday, sir. Can't Peter stay for just a few more days?" Nellie pleaded, hot blood pumping through to her cheeks.

Fury's face changed for a second. His expression seemed to soften.

"I'm sorry, Miss Stark. I truly am. But you know I'm right," Fury countered, his voice a bit more apologetic than it had sounded before.

Peter cleared his throat, "I need more time. A week. Please, sir, just one week. Then I'll, you know. . .I'll be an Avenger."

Nellie's head lowered as she realized that even if Fury agreed, a week was such a short amount of time. Saying goodbye wasn't something she was prepared to do, not yet. The pain in her chest flared up again.

Fury shook his head in silence before speaking again, "One week, Parker. And I will be back to personally escort you back to New York in seven days, and you will be ready."

And with that, Nick Fury was walking out of the house without another word.

Both Peter and Nellie let out a huge sigh of relief once he was past the door threshold. His presence alone was enough to put an uncontrollable weight on their shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, Nell," Peter breathed, crossing the few steps between them to pull her against his chest.

She leaned off of the bar stool into his touch, already mentally counting down the amount of times she'd get to do that before he'd have to leave.

"Looks like you will be going back to New York without me after all, Pete." Nellie sighed, burying her face against his chest.

He held the side of her head softly, and she could hear the rapid beating of his heart.

"I don't want to let Mr. Stark down," Peter began.

Nellie pulled away from his chest, but he kept his arms around her still.

"I know, Peter. I understand, I do. I just wish we had more time."

"You didn't let me finish," He wet his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, "I also don't want to let you down, Nellie."

"You could never let me down. Not in a million years." She disputed, placing her head back against his rib cage.

"I just don't know if I'm ready. . ." Peter admitted, his voice stammering.

Nellie's hand found the small of his back and gave it a squeeze. She wanted to hold onto him and never let go. But she knew that was selfish of her. She couldn't keep Peter from being who he truly was. Who Tony knew he would be.

"You will be."