After some rounds on the street to make sure the civilians were alright, Peter went back to Wayne Manor. He had left his clothes there and Aunt May must be throwing a fit. He snuck by the flashing red and blue lights and crawled into what he could only assume was the bathroom window where he left his clothes and his phone. He got into his suit and checked his phone…

Aunt May: (150 missed calls)

Oh shit.

…

May came out of her car wearing nothing but a robe over her pyjamas. She shuffled through the cars and stormed through the police officers.

“Ma’am,” said one of the officers. A young man by the name of Peralta. “Ma’am I’m sorry but you’re going to have to answer some questions.”

“To hell with your questions,” May said. “My nephew is in that mansion.”

“It’s part of procedure,” the cop said, trailing behind her trying to keep up with her giant strides.

“What’s the matter here?” Commissioner Gordon said, sporting a cigarette in her mouth.

Peralta tensed up a little. “Woman over there won’t answer questions. Says she’s here to see her nephew.”

Gordon squinted, noticing the woman rushing ahead was May Parker. What her nephew was doing at Wayne Manor, Gordon didn’t know. What Bruce Wayne would want with a middle-class orphan; Gordon didn’t know. What he did know was that he did not like seeing the same face twice, especially when it came to his job.

“Tell me where my nephew is!” May Parker barked at the slender man standing in front of the manor.

“I assure you. I have no idea where your nephew could be at this moment ma’am,” the man said in a calm, British accent. Unfazed by the woman literally screaming at his face.

“Then let me in,” May Parker said. “I’ll find him and get out of here.”

“I’m afraid the police are currently holding an investigation,” the man said calmly.

“Listen here Jeeves,” May said. “If you don’t let me in, I’ll have to force myself in and you wouldn’t like that, now would you?”

“How may I help you ma’am?” Commissioner Gordon asked.

“Why thank you Commissioner Gordon,” May said. “I’d like go inside and see my nephew…”

“I’m afraid…”

Gordon was cut off by a frustrated sigh. “You too. I thought you were better than this Gordon.”

Gordon scratched his hair, looking at Alfred Pennysworth who just shrugged.

Meanwhile Peter snuck out of the bathroom, jumping to the walls in order to avoid any cops that were investigating around his area.

“If anything happens to my boy, I’m going to sue you all,” May said, pointing at Gordon and Alfred. “And that spoiled jackass Bruce Wayne who had the bright idea of inviting my nephew to a party full of criminals.”

Peter tried calling his Aunt but the call wasn’t going through. Shuffling through the crowds of wailing rich people and stern-faced GCPD officers he tried calling her again before he finally noticed a bright blue car parked outside the police cordon. Aunt May’s car.

Oh no.

“I’ll count down to ten and if you don’t let me in,” May said.

“Please calm down Mrs. Parker,” Gordon said. “I’m sure your nephew is fine. I’ve been calling my men and…”

“Hey May,” Peter said, a little nervously.

Gordon let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Peter. “See what did I say.”

May also let out a relieved sigh. “Peter, you’re alright.”

May wrapped Peter in a hug which he returned. “Yeah. Am I glad to see you Aunt May.”

“Why didn’t you answer my calls?” May said, letting go of Peter.

“I was scared,” Peter said, though that was far from the truth.

“Oh, Peter,” May said, hugging him even more tightly.

May turned to face Gordon and Alfred. “My nephew is safe, no thanks to you.”

“It’s fine Aunt May,” Peter said. “They’re just doing their jobs.”

But Aunt May ignored him, jabbing a finger at Alfred’s chest. “And you,” she said. “Tell your Master or whatever the hell you call him not to come anywhere near my nephew. Tell him and his ward or whatever he calls that Grayson boy.”

Aunt May turned around, walking towards the car. “Come on Peter, let’s go home.”

Peter nodded, giving a weak smile to Commissioner Gordon and Alfred before following behind his Aunt.

“And you, Peter,” Aunt May said. “You need to stop hanging out with that Grayson boy. He’s nothing but trouble.”

She entered the car, slamming the door shut behind her.

“But Dick had nothing to do with this,” Peter said. “It’s not his fault the Penguin came and crashed the party.”

“I don’t care who’s fault it is,” May said. “I’m not going to risk putting you in danger.”

“But I wasn’t in any danger,” Peter protested.

“Then what happened to your face?” Aunt May said. “If you weren’t in any danger, huh? What are all those bruises?”

Peter stared at the rear-view mirror and was taken aback to see how much of his face was covered in bruises. His hair was a ruffled mess there was blood running down his cheek.

“Oh geez,” Aunt May said, noticing the blood. “Peter do you want me to take to the hospital?”

“No, I’ll be fine…”

May leaned over to him, touching his cheek. “You sure… I…”

“I’m not a baby Aunt May,” Peter said. “I can take care of myself.”

“Your uncle could take care of himself and see what happened to him.”

Aunt May started up the car, driving in complete silence. Surprised Peter wasn’t saying anything, May turned to see…

Peter staring at her, shock, disbelief and rage all written on his bruised face. The anger in his blue eyes made Aunt May want to hide in a corner. “What did you say?”

Aunt May’s mouth was dry. Her heart was heavy at the realisation of the words that escaped her mouth. Looking at Peter, he remembered all those times her husband and Peter used to go to the barn, building god knows what. How her husband tried to make Peter laugh with funny faces after the unfortunate accident that took away his parents and letting out an excited cheer when Peter smiled and then finally laughed. How Peter was the closest thing to the child she and Ben had wanted to have all those years ago when they got married but couldn’t. “Look I’m sorry…”

“No,” Peter said, cutting her off, his voice firm. “You can’t just say that about Uncle Ben and apologise.”

Aunt May was trying to stop her voice from shaking. “Look, I know how much your uncle means to you but…”

“First you tell me that I can’t hang out with my only friend in Gotham,” Peter said. “And now you say that about the man who raised me. No Aunt May, there’s no way in hell you know what he meant to me.”

Seeing her crying like this made Peter feel guilty, he wanted to turn away and apologise but Aunt May had no right to talk about him like this. Nobody did.

“I’m sorry Peter,” Aunt May said, struggling to say the words. Tears running down her face. “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

Peter laughed without joy. “You already did.”