Chapter Text
“Peter Parker? Yes sir, that’s my legal name.” It wasn’t a lie. It’s not his birth name, but it was his legal name.
Peter shifted uncomfortably in the crappy folding chair pulled up beside the desk where May and the security officer were looking over and discussing paperwork. May glanced over at his movements and he replied with a nervous smile.
“Sorry for the trouble.”
“I can’t believe you got separated from the group Peter.”
“Really sorry.” He looked down, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over the spider bite on the back of his hand.
“Kid just be more careful not to wander into restricted areas next time maybe?”
“Yes sir.” He nodded.
***
Luckily it didn’t take too long to get out of there and get home. Leftover pizza was still in the fridge from the previous day. Peter planned to wash off and put a bandaid on the now freakishly mis-colored and almost worryingly swollen spider bite, but that didn’t quite seem as simple now as it did 20 minutes ago.
“Peter, I know boys your age need your private time but come have dinner before turning in for the night!” May called from the kitchenette.
“I’ll eat later May, promise! I’m just really tired after today.”
There was a brief silence for a moment before she responded. “Alright.” She called, the same volume as before.
“… that’s totally normal…” It sounded like she mumbled to herself but there’s no way Peter would’ve been able to hear that normally.
He just wanted today to be over already, and tomorrow he’d wake up, with a no-longer-swollen hand, and spend his 3 day weekend from school visiting his family in Gotham. He’d have the entire manor (almost) entirely to himself in the evenings too. There would be no territory wars over the gaming room.
Probably.
Additionally, another great benefit is getting to have Alfred’s cooking for a few days. Alfred always sends back some meals for Pete and May to share after his visit ends. Don’t get him wrong, Peter loves May with all his heart, but she simply Cannot Cook At All. A solemn fact of the universe.
Aunt May always wanted Pete to be able to live and grow up like a normal child, and know what everyday people go through. She didn’t want him to grow up a spoiled brat (not that she didn’t have faith in Bruce or Alfred of course, she very much knew that tabloids and news outlets only held a very limited view of the Waynes). She felt it was important to know and feel the value of the dollar.
He had no complaints, even when money was tight she’d always find a way for them to pull through. And every time money was tight, Bruce would wordlessly wire some funds to Aunt May, who would in turn vehemently refuse it and instead send it to a ‘secret’ college fund for Peter. One thing about May was she was more stubborn than even Bruce, which was impressive.
Peter wrapped his hand loosely in some gauze after cleaning the bite, and shuffled to his room wordlessly. He was unnaturally tired after today’s events. He really just wanted to take a nap. He slumped into his bed, eyes shut, drifting off as soon as his head hit the pillow.