May's unexpected worry left this battle-hardened man utterly at a loss.
In front of Aunt May, all of Batman's countless strategies as the Dark Knight were useless. Even his explanations came out stiff and clumsy.
"Aunt May, Parker Industries' net profit for the past week was thirteen million dollars."
May froze. She reached up, pulled off the headscarf she'd just finished tying, and looked at Batman without saying a word.
The longer she stayed silent, the more desperately Batman tried to prove himself.
"This car is a legitimate asset, not obtained illegally. Its purchase was completely legal—there's full financial documentation and tax records..."
Batman's explanation was awkward and wooden, a far cry from the decisive strategist he became when facing any enemy.
In truth, even Batman himself didn't fully understand why he'd specially swapped in a luxury car just to visit Aunt May.
After hearing him out, May was stunned for a moment. Then the worry on her face slowly melted away, replaced by a tenderness mixed with heartache and helplessness.
May had long ago realized that Batman was terrible at lying—at least to her—and she believed everything he said was true.
She sighed, stepped forward, and gently patted his arm. Then she cupped Batman's face in both hands, gazing at him with eyes that seemed to see straight into his soul. The worry in her voice faded, giving way to warmth and pride.
"Oh, Peter... Do you really have to talk to me about 'legitimate assets' and 'net profits'?"
"Couldn't you just say, 'Aunt May, I made some money. I wanted a nice car, and I wanted you to ride in comfort too'? Would I ever not understand?"
Batman opened his mouth, about to launch into a full explanation of Parker Industries—from the first seed funding (a half-finished AI) to filing the patents.
But May didn't seem to need any of that. She already believed him.
"Next time, don't scare your poor old aunt who knows nothing about business with all those numbers," she said with a playful scold laced with boundless affection. "If you want me to be proud of you, just tell me straight."
With that, May stood on tiptoe, pressed a soft kiss to Batman's forehead, and—finally accepting his clumsy kindness with a touch of wonder—carefully slid into the passenger seat of the R8.
Batman let out a quiet breath of relief. He suppressed his own swirling emotions, climbed in beside her, and started the engine with deliberate care. Then he drove Aunt May slowly out of Forest Hills, cruising lap after lap through the bustling streets of New York.
The streets were still the same streets, the skyscrapers still the same skyscrapers, but to May everything felt brand new. Like an excited little girl, she kept peppering Batman with questions.
Batman didn't show the slightest impatience. He answered every one of her doubts in a gentle, patient voice.
By the time the R8 pulled up again in front of 20 Ingram Street in Forest Hills, May already knew the broad strokes of Batman's "entrepreneurial" journey.
She accepted, with full and joyful heart, that he had used his brilliant mind to earn money honestly and legally.
Yet at the same time her heart ached. No matter how powerful or how kind the man beside her was, he was no longer the nephew who used to fret over grocery money and drive a beat-up old car.
This sports car was a symbol of "Bruce Wayne." It silently proclaimed that "Peter" was gone.
May loved the Peter of today—Parker, Batman, Bruce—but that didn't mean she could ever forget the real Peter Parker.
If she could choose, she would want both boys to live their own good lives and just come visit her once in a while.
Batman, having finally regained his calm, acutely sensed the shift in May's mood. He could even guess why.
"Aunt May, there's a very high probability that Peter has crossed over into my original body. He might be going through some hardship, but he's definitely safe. He'll come back."
"I know, I know..." May murmured.
Batman didn't want May's spirits to stay low. Besides buying himself a new car, he'd brought something else on this visit.
"Aunt May, I think there's a piece of paper under your seat. Could you grab it for me?"
"Of course, sweetheart." Not wanting to let her sadness affect him, May forced a smile.
She bent down, reached under the seat, felt a thick sheet of paper, and pulled it out. Then she fished her reading glasses from her pocket.
"Let Aunt May read it for you."
"Address: 20 Ingram Street, Forest Hills, Queens... Wait, that's our house?"
May jumped a little, but kept reading.
"Square footage... Number of floors... Property owner..."
Her voice caught. In disbelief, she pushed her glasses down her nose and peered over the rims at the document.
"May Parker? May... Parker?"
"This, this..."
In an instant she understood. Her hand trembled as she held the deed, tears springing to her eyes.
"Sweetheart..." Her voice broke. She looked at Batman with sorrow. "Why would you do this? Do you think... do you think giving me something like this will..."
She choked a few times before the rest came out.
"...will make me feel like you're never coming back?"
She had already lost one Peter Parker. Was she about to lose another "Peter Parker" now?
When she connected it to the joyride earlier—him showing off his accomplishments—the fear peaked.
"I don't want it." May shook her head, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I live here because this is where Ben's and Peter's memories are, not because it's my house."
Her reaction once again caught Batman off guard, but this time he recovered quickly.
"That's exactly why it has to be yours. No one can take it away—not a landlord, not time. As long as you're here, Uncle Ben and Peter will always have a home."
"And what about you, sweetheart?" May wiped her eyes, terrified he would say he wasn't coming back. "From the moment you called me 'Aunt May,' you've been family. I've never worried about how you'll take care of me... I've worried who will take care of you."
Batman took May's hand and placed it in his palm, feeling the slight tremor in those wrinkled fingers. He spoke gently.
"No matter where I am, this is the place I have to come back to."
May's fears finally shattered. She burst into tears.
But this time the tears washed away the panic. She threw her arms around Batman—not because she saw him as a substitute for Peter, but because he was Bruce.
Her smart, awkward, second nephew.