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May has never considered or believed herself to be a violent person.
Yes, she whacked Ben over the head with her bag on the night they first met, mistaking him for a thief when he ran up behind her, only to discover that he’d actually been trying to return the twenty dollars that had fallen out of her coat pocket, but that was understandable, completely justifiable for a young woman to defend herself in the city late at night.
He’d asked her out that same night and sported the black eye she gave him almost proudly for their first and second date, and the whole thing quickly became one of their favourite stories to tell to anyone who would listen.
For the most part, life from then on passes without much incident, May only feeling the urge to throttle someone once or twice in Peter’s childhood, mainly the kids who picked on him and their parents when he comes home with a black eye one too many times.
It’s later in life, after Ben dies, when things begin to change.
It starts with Tony Stark.
Sure, she had never been a huge fan, but credit where credit’s due, he had his fair share of good deeds and heroic acts under his belt. That doesn’t stop May from almost knocking his head off his shoulders when she finds out about the Germany trip.
"He’s fifteen, you psychopath! What, you think because you’re Tony Stark you can just waltz in here and do whatever the hell you like?"
"May," Peter groans. "Please - "
"And you gave him a suit to - to - to go out and play vigilante in? He’s fifteen!"
"Can you stop mentioning my age?" Peter pleads. "Look, May, it’s really not his - "
May throws up a hand and makes a rapid zipping motion in the air, still glaring at where Tony is sitting on the couch, face almost eerily blank as he looks up at her. She raises her eyebrows expectantly and he sighs.
"He’d be out there regardless of any suit I could make for him. He already was before we met. Better that he goes out there as protected as - "
"Protected?" May interrupts. "You think some fancy spandex suit is enough to protect him?"
It goes on and on for what feels like hours, but May doesn’t end up killing Tony Stark, or hitting him repeatedly with a frying pan like she envisioned as she yelled at him. It’s eventually Peter’s flat out refusal to give Spider-Man up that turns the tide of the conversation, but that’s after many tears and waving hands and Tony offering to leave multiple times only to be repeatedly told to sit back down.
Months later, May feels better about the whole thing, Peter helps more and more people every day, Tony somehow ends up a welcomed guest in her home, and May figures she’s met her quota for a good few years, even if he does sometimes ruffle her feathers every now and then, though she suspects he does it on purpose.
The federal agents that storm into their apartment shortly after everything goes to hell make the mistake of trying to push past May, beelining for Peter as he rises nervously from the couch.
May’s in front of him before they can even make it halfway across the room, backing up until he’s trapped between her and the wall, her arms thrown out wide. It doesn’t matter that Peter’s more than capable of taking this entire squad out by himself, May isn’t going to let a single one of them anywhere near him.
They ransack the apartment with brutal disregard, the entire space falling into a dishevelled, ruined mess in seconds. The lead agent regards May with something too close to smugness on his face, badge still in his hand.
"You need to step aside."
"This is my home," May says firmly. "You have no right to - "
"Oh, I have every right. Your nephew is wanted for charges of murder and unless you want to be arrested too, I suggest you move."
Another agent tries to reach around her, thick fists grabbing for Peter. May instantly smacks them away, then suddenly she’s whirling backwards, Peter now in front of her, hands held up placatingly as multiple guns are aimed at him.
"Peter - "
"May, it’s okay," Peter murmurs.
No, it’s not okay. Everything is so very far from okay, and the feeling of helplessness that’s rapidly building within May is so terrifying that for a moment she wonders if she’s going to be sick.
"No, I’m not gonna just let them - "
"May," Peter hisses frantically, looking over his shoulder as someone moves forward with a pair of thick handcuffs. "Please just do as they say."
It’s so wrong.
It’s so wrong because it’s Peter, her Peter who used to cry over dead bugs he found around the apartment; her Peter who lived and literally died so people like this can still walk around. It stokes a fierce rage in May’s gut, the injustice of it all burning like acid as she meets the still very smug gaze of the lead agent, prevented from lunging at him by the pleading stare Peter throws at her as he’s led towards the door.
The rage intensifies when she, MJ and Ned are rounded up and pulled in for questioning.
"We’re gonna be okay, right?" Ned hisses as they’re marched inside. "This is - we didn’t do anything wrong so they can’t, like, do anything, right?"
"Just don’t say anything," MJ murmurs, looking around as they pass cubicles and rooms with floor to ceiling glass windows. "Nothing without a lawyer, okay?"
May tries her best to sound comforting, because even though these aren’t her kids, they’re still just kids, two of the people in Peter’s corner. "They won’t be able to keep us long. It’s going to be fine."
They spot Peter, both she and MJ telling him in unison to not say a word without a lawyer, and then they’re separated and bundled into separate rooms.
May and the lead agent from the night before, whom she now knows as Agent Cleary, stare silently at each other for a good few minutes before he starts in, that smug voice grating on her nerves as she fights to keep calm while asserting the fact that they cannot legally be held here without any charges.
Cleary narrows his eyes slightly. "You should definitely lawyer up."
May blinks. "Excuse me?"
"Child endangerment is a nasty rap. The boy was entrusted to you, and as his legal guardian, essentially his mother, you not only allowed him to endanger himself but you encouraged it. Who does that?"
The urge to smack Cleary across the face is so sudden and sharp that May doesn’t know how she resists. Instead she squeezes the arms of the chair she’s sitting in, hard enough for her fingers to ache from the pressure.
"I wanna see Peter right now ."
Cleary leans back in his chair. "You’re gonna be waiting a while. CPS are on their way. They can decide what kind of parent you are and whether it’s wise for Peter to continue being in your care."
Coldness seeps into May’s blood, icy fear curdling with the anger.
"I know exactly what kind of mother I am," she says quietly, "and it’s the kind that won’t let people like you hurt him."
Cleary nods. "Shame you didn’t have the same protective mindset when he was out playing vigilante and growing into a murderer."
"Were you blipped?"
Cleary shifts, clearly thrown off by the question. "No."
"You lose anybody?"
Cleary doesn’t answer straight away. "My wife. Parents."
May leans forward. "Peter is a big part of the reason why they got to come back. The reason why your family gets to be together again, and you’re treating him like a criminal. So maybe instead of throwing judgement on me, maybe take a look at yourself first."
Cleary leaves her alone shortly after that, and May boots his empty chair as hard as she can.
Thanks to Matt, they all manage to walk away without any charges, but their troubles are far from over.
As nice as it is at Happy’s apartment, the man himself good company and another protective presence in their lives, May can’t feel completely at home. As hard as they all try to push on as normal, the invasive anger from the outside world somehow manages to find its way in via cruel social media backlashes and the judging stares of thousands of people wherever they go.
FEAST is a saving grace, the people there ironclad in their certainty of May, of Peter and of who Spider-Man really is, and May is boundlessly grateful, just as she is for Peter’s friendship with Ned and MJ.
It warms her from the inside out to see them together. Peter and Ned messing around with legos while Tony’s old robot tries to help but typically ends up breaking things; the gentle affectionate touches that Peter and MJ share that remind May of her and Ben; the way the three of them squash in close to each other without even realising, shoulders always brushing and arms and legs invading personal spaces, like there’s not a force on Earth that can break them apart.
"You’re good for him," she says to MJ one night as they pick at leftover chinese food in the kitchen while Peter and Ned work on fixing one of Dum-E’s wheels. "I mean, both you and Ned are, but there’s definitely something special about you two," she adds, waving her chopstick back and forth for emphasis.
MJ smiles a little bashfully, looking over to the boys as Dum-E makes a curious noise and nearly knocks Ned flying with his claw. "He’s good for me too. Him and Ned…I, I never really had friends before, not great ones anyway."
"Friendship is important. That’s why Ben and I were so happy," May says, the familiar ache of fondness blooming inside her. "We were best friends too."
Dum-E suddenly tugs on Peter’s hair, eliciting a loud, "Yowch!" and MJ ducks her head with a snort, quickly shoving a vegetable spring roll into her mouth to hide her amusement.
"Mean!" Peter calls playfully at her.
MJ throws him a prawn cracker in response.
It’s enough of a good thing to remove some of the lingering bitterness, to soothe some of the sting of all they’ve been through, and for a brief moment in time, May really believes in that growing glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel.
When the rejection letters start coming through, the nails on May’s hands cut into her palms more than once.
"May, go."
Peter.
Bloodied and beaten, eyes barely open as he looks at her, defeat already etched into his face.
How many times did May open her arms to him when he came home from school in tears because somebody had hurt him? How many times did she feel like she couldn’t do enough to shield him from all the horrible things in the world? How many times did she look away from the television when the news would play clips of Spider-Man, a confusing mixture of pride and terror sitting heavy in her chest?
How many times did she feel like she couldn’t ever do enough to protect him?
Not this time.
Reaching up, May yanks a piece of broken rebar from the ruptured ceiling above and whirls it threateningly as she glares at Norman, the sight of his hands on Peter pulsing pure electric fury through every fibre of her being.
"May, run, please," Peter begs.
Never.
Sound suddenly surges behind her, Peter’s gaze widens at something she can’t see, and May ducks just as glass explodes everywhere, knocking her forward while something blasts overhead.
Norman releases Peter with a yell and before she knows it, May is up on her feet again and swinging with all her might. The end of the rebar collides directly with Norman’s jaw hard enough to make the bones in her arm tremble, but that doesn’t stop her from hitting him again, blood spurting into the air as the skin of his cheek splits open.
Snarling, Norman lunges at her and May screams furiously as she swings again, catching him in the side of the head, and then Peter is crashing into her as the glider swoops down, missing them only by mere inches.
Norman leaps up onto it, sneering face all the more menacing with blood spread across it. "Peter Peter Peter," he mocks as Peter scrambles up from the floor, arm thrown out protectively in front of May, a sight that instantly breaks her heart. "No good deed goes unpunished."
May notices something green flash in Norman’s hand right before he looks at her.
"You can thank me later."
He grins at Peter, and tosses the bomb directly at them.
"No!" Peter yells, diving to catch it, pulling a desperate cry from May’s lungs as his fingers brush against the bomb -
There’s sudden heat and a deafening ringing in her ears, the ground rushing up to meet her and everything spinning. Nausea flares in her gut and there’s a stinging sensation steadily spreading across her body.
For a while, she isn’t sure how long, May just lies there, blinking flickering darkness from her vision.
"Peter," she feels herself say, the word reverberating in her chest. "Peter."
Where is he why isn’t he saying anything why can’t I -
"Peter!"
"May," she hears his voice break through the dull ringing. "I’m here, May, I’m here."
Heaving herself to her feet, May pushes away the hair sticking to her sweaty skin and looks up to see Peter limping towards her. Relief crashing over her like a wave, May stands and meets him halfway in a tight embrace that makes him groan even as he hugs her back just as tightly.
"Are you okay?"
"I’m okay. We’re okay, right?"
May huffs something of a laugh into Peter’s shoulder. "Knocked me on my ass, that’s all."
Peter’s own laugh is more like another groan. "Think I broke my ribs."
May sighs shakily as they pull away, one hand resting on his chest as she looks him over, taking in the livid red marks around his neck and the blood on his face. He stares back at her sadly.
"This is all my fault, May. I should have just listened to Strange and let him send them - "
"No." May shakes her head. "You did the right thing."
Like he always does. Like he always has, even before he was Spider-Man and would trigger an asthma attack trying to help Mrs Evans carry her shopping up the stairs, or when he stood up for kids who got bullied as badly as he did while knowing it would only ever end in someone punching him to the ground.
"You did the right thing," she repeats.
"It’s not my responsibility, May."
Norman’s previous taunts fill May’s mind. "Oh, you mean what Norman said? My moral mission?"
Peter frowns at her. "What? No, May - "
"No, Peter, you listen to me. You have a gift. A power, and with great power, there must also come great responsibility."
"Yeah, I know," he says quietly, almost defeatedly.
May reaches out with trembling hands to cup Peter’s face, tears stinging her eyes. "But I am not letting you carry that responsibility alone." She gives him a little shake. “Not anymore. Do you understand me?"
She needs him to understand; needs him to know that there isn’t a single raging fire she wouldn’t walk through for him; that no manner of otherworldly threats or universe-shredding disasters will ever stop her from stepping up to bat for him or being in his corner until the end, and how she’ll go down fighting if it means keeping him safe.
More than anything, she needs him to know that there will never be a greater, more precious joy than having him for a son.
"It’s just me and you," she whispers, knowing he’ll hear her loud and clear. "Okay?"
Peter’s face crumples, lips pressing into a thin line as his eyes shine with tears. "Yeah. Me and you."
May nods. "Come on, let’s get the hell outta here."
Moving to support each other, they limp across the rubble towards the burning mess that was once the lobby entrance.
"I can’t believe you hit him like that," Peter says with a hoarse chuckle. "That was so badass."
May rests her head against his shoulder. "Well, Ben did always say I had a mean swing."