The Avengers

You were Nick Fury's granddaughter, and few people knew it. You hadn't met any of the Avengers, and they had no idea you existed. You lived with your grandfather and often made fun of him, calling him an old fart. You returned from a walk with a bag of snacks and walked into the house.

"Hey, old man, I'm home!" you say cheerfully, walking into the living room where the Avengers are sitting. Fury looks up from his papers, wearily.

“How many times have I asked you not to call me an old man?” he sighs.

"It's not my fault you're over sixty, Grandpa," you pretended not to notice the tension in the air. The Avengers exchanged glances, as if trying to figure out what was going on, waiting for someone to break the silence.