Spider-Son & Iron Dad two shots

a suit, a meeting, a stabbing

a/n: "When she found out that I was Spider-Man, it— it was really messy, and I—I— I don't think that I can go through with that again." thanks for the inspo peter

"What the fuck?!"

Peter stopped, his whole body stilling from where he stood at the window. He swung around and met May with wide eyes. "Oh my god."

"What the fuck," May repeated, her heart starting to race. She turned around, walking into the hallway and pacing the kitchen. "What the fuck!"

"May?" Peter trailed after her, his voice high in a panic. "Listen— Don't freak out! Please don't freak out, when you freak out, I freak out—"

"I am freaking out!" May all but yelled, stopping in the middle of the kitchen and turning to him sharply. Her hair whipped in her face and stuck around the air haphazardly. "You have— You have so much explaining to do. I'm— Oh god, I think I'm gonna pass out."

Peter's eyes widened even more and he rushed to her side, putting steadying hands on her shoulders. "Hey, it's okay! It's alright, just take a second, okay? Don't pass out."

May inhaled deeply. She was furious, petrified, shocked, a flurry of emotions whizzing through her blood so fast that the room was spinning. Her nephew, her boy, standing in front of her in a red and blue suit with a spider on its chest and web designs up the arms, everything about it screaming the danger that he—

Her mind raced as she thought of everything that happened in the past month. Every time she heard about Spider-Man, the heroic crime-stopper in Queens, passively on the news suddenly hit her all at once. Explosions. Building collapses. Gunshots. Stabbings. Attempted murders.

She struggled to process in real time that it was no longer an adult in tights who happened to stop buses in his spare time, who didn't have a real job and got their worn streets torn up with alien weaponry while her nephew walked home from school. No. That was her kid, damn it, who put on a suit and nearly got himself killed every night and—

The goddamn suit.

"Where did you get this?" May demanded suddenly, her face pale and breath coming out in trembling gasps.

Peter swallowed. "May—"

"Peter Benjamin Parker."

"Let's calm down first, okay?" Peter gently guided her to the table in the kitchen. "I'll explain everything to you, I promise. Just— Just—"

May ran a shaking hand through her hair, smoothing it out. She inhaled deeply and held her breath, pressing her lips in a firm line. She stared at one spot in the table, a groove in the wood that showed up randomly one day. May always thought it looked like a clenched hand.

"Please be okay," Peter finished quietly. "I'm sorry about all of this."

May looked up at him silently. He looked just as terrified as she felt, his eyebrows furrowed and high on his face, eyes full of tears, and lips pressed to poorly hide the trembling.

"Say it out loud," May said then, her voice precariously stable. She gestured to his suit. "What this... means."

Everything became eerily quiet.

Peter sniffled. "I'm—I'm Spider-Man."

May crumbled, putting a hand under her glasses as she tilted her head down at the table. "God."

"I'm so sorry," Peter whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry, May."

May felt the hot tears fall into her hand, and she let out a shuddering breath. She slid her glasses off and set them on the table with a clatter.