Aunt May? Harvey squinted at that, but he realized that even though Peter liked to wear spandex and could clearly handle himself in a fight, he had to have someone who watched over him considering his age. An aunt, then. It brought up the obvious question of his parents, but maybe they hadn't been able to deal with the fact that their son was leaking webs.

Whatever, it wasn't important, and more than that, he was suddenly being thanked. Harvey couldn't even begin to imagine what for, and he just sent a steady stare at Peter as he waited for the explanation that was sure to follow.

In the end, what Peter said didn't really apply, or Harvey didn't think so, anyway. He wouldn't say that he was known for caring at this point. He'd cared before, about Gotham and its well-being and the people in it, but that had all been used up by now and he'd paid the price for it.

"Shoot you? That's maybe a little too extreme. I might have wrung your neck, though." He tried to make it lighthearted, but in the end it turned out to have a grimmer hint to it. Peter would get the idea. He wasn't attacking him now, after all.

"Anyway, I don't think I ever said I cared. Just so we're clear." He glanced over at the kid and then sighed. "There wouldn't be a point to not coming along, you know. What would you have done, cried into your pillow all night?"