beginnings, 5
Harley hadn’t missed the small glances thrown between Peter and Harry during class, nor the way they had melded into some kind of rhythm, as combative as it had seemed. Something was up, and Harley had a sneaking suspicion that somehow Harry knew Peter. Like, actually knew him, which was not something that was supposed to happen. Everyone who knew Peter by name had forgotten him.
On the one hand, Harley wanted to be happy for Peter, to find someone - hopefully who was friendly towards him - who still knew who he was. But on the other hand, this whole thing was suspicious. Or maybe Harley was just jealous. He’d never claim to be a perfect person, but he was trying his best. Trying to ignore the way he’d felt seeing Peter so animated in class, trying to ignore just how much sharing trusting and intimate moments with Peter had meant to him.
Peter didn’t need that right now. He needed a friend, one that he could trust, and Harley wanted to be that friend. Harley didn’t want to saddle him with something that would probably just go away on its own if he ignored it - and yet he also hated that knowing Harry was straight gave him more than just a modicum of relief. He wanted to be better than that.
“-and so I told him, ‘I’m a lesbian, dad!’” Gwen ranted, and suddenly Harley felt embarrassed and ashamed to have zoned out and been swallowed up by his own thoughts when this new friend of his was talking. “Man, you should have seen his face!”
Honesty was the best policy, right? That was what Harley’s Ma told him. Maybe it wasn’t the best all the time, but if Harley couldn’t be entirely honest with Peter, at least he should try be honest with Gwen, right? “Sorry, I missed most of that. Say again?”
“Oh!” Gwen exclaimed, just as the duo were walking into the student centre. “No problem, happens to me all the time. I was just talking about how my dad’s a weird conservative prick who’s like… weirdly concerned with his bloodline carrying on. But I’m his only kid, so when I told him that I was a lesbian he kind of just freaked. Mom was unusually quiet about that, but… you know, I don’t think it’s because she’s on my side. It’s like there’s something missing there.”
“Sounds… complicated,” Harley offered. He’d had his fair share of queer-related complication with his family. Mostly his dad walking out when Harley was six, because Harley had said something about boys being pretty. It had taken him alarmingly long to connect the dots, but at least he didn’t have to grow up with a homophobic parent for all that long. His Ma would never. “I guess movin’ to college would help, huh? Distance and all that.”
Harley missed his Ma, and he missed his little sister Abby. But he spoke to them both on the phone often enough, and he knew coming to MIT was exactly the right decision for him.
“Weellll, kinda,” Gwen responded. “I mean, I’m from Boston over the river, so it’s not perfect, but I did move out to live on my own. Pushed the whole ‘it’s for my independence and the college experience’ bullshit, and I guess my parents bought it. Ah, here we are. You been in yet?”
Harley shook his head. “Nope, I wanted to come by for the movie night, but I had other plans. Excited to check it out, though. Excited to be out, now that I don’t live in the fuckin’ bible belt.”
“Oof.” Gwen sounded genuinely sympathetic. They pushed open the door, and Harley followed in to check out the rather colourful room. Each of the four walls was a different colour, but not in an overbearing way. There was a circle of sofas just to the left of the door, where a whole bunch of people were sitting and excitedly chatting about something to do with the new Captain America.
To the right was a kitchenette, kitted out with a fridge, microwave and dishwasher, and then a rather long bookshelf. At the back of the room, in the corner and under the refreshingly open windows, was a black girl with impressively cool cornrows. She was all hunched up, and it didn’t quite look like she was crying, but she also did not look okay. Harley and Gwen exchanged a glance, and then with a couple pointed head tilts and a nod, they both went over to sit with her.
“Hey, you doin’ okay?” Harley asked as gently as he could.
The girl groaned, and looked up. Harley couldn’t tell what that groan meant, but if she asked him and Gwen to leave her alone, they would. “Nah, not really. But that’s just how shit goes.”
“Ugh, what a mood,” Gwen agreed easily. “I’m Gwen, she/they.”
“Riri, she/her,” the girl introduced herself. “Welcome to the crisis corner - or at least I’ve been told that’s what this is.”
“Great, I’ll be here often,” Harley joked. Because yeah, he probably would. It was almost comically reassuring to know of this maybe-official ‘crisis corner’, because even if he was Tony Stark’s secret heir and a fledgeling superhero of sorts, he was also a college freshman who had his own personal shit too. “Harley, he/him. So, you a regular around these parts?”
Riri shook her head. “Nah. I’m a second year, but it’s my first time in here. Honestly, thought I was straight until like a couple months ago. Damn pretty girl kisses me then ghosts me, and then I don’t even know what to think.”
“I need to get kissed by a pretty girl. Preferably someone who doesn't start by calling me a racial slur - which is baffling because my parents are white as shit and I'm pretty sure I am too, but I guess that doesn't change that I apparently look like I have some Chinese heritage,” Gwen remarked rather solemnly.
Within Gwen's comment, outside of the really awful recount of racism that Harley would definitely punch anyone for pulling around him lay a suggestion for how Harley could get over these feelings he was developing for Peter. Find another pretty boy to make out with, and move on. There were apps for that, right? Harley could practically hear Abby laughing at him for that. He’d almost bet that somehow, all the way over in Tennessee, she had heard his thought and was loudly mocking him for it.
Somewhere in Rose Hill, Abby Keener sneezed.
“You guys make me feel a bit like a baby gay and I’ve known pretty much since I was a kid,” Harley admitted, because yeah, he’d never gotten to do much of anything with anyone he was attracted to. “Fuckin’ Tennessee.”
Riri’s eyebrows quirked up, and she eyed him curiously. “You grew up in the bible belt?”
“Shitty little town called Rose Hill,” Harley answered. “I can’t completely hate it since my Ma and my little sister still live there, but yeah. Couldn’t ever be out there. Pastor’s son once tried to invite me out the back of the church, but I chickened out. Didn’t know if I could trust him, even if he was kinda cute.”
“That’s tough, man,” Gwen condoled. “I mean, I kind of thought you had a thing going on already?”
Harley’s eyes widened. Was he that obvious? He couldn’t afford to be obvious about this. “Nah, he and I are just friends.”
“Huh.” Gwen sounded too surprised for Harley’s liking. “So we’re all sad, single gays?”
The door swung open. Harley turned, and saw Peter walk in. He looked very much like something heavy was resting on his mind. It was almost similar to how he had looked that night out by Tony’s memorial statue. Maybe not that heavy, but still. Harley’s first thought was to directly check in, but he didn’t want to make a scene in front of a bunch of strangers and new friends. He could check in later, if Peter hadn’t picked himself up yet.
Peter walked right over, sat down right next to Harley, and leaned his head on Harley’s shoulder.
“Is this okay?” he asked quietly, sort of twisting his head to look up at Harley. And from here, Harley could see all the interesting little colourations of his mostly brown eyes.
“Sure, yeah,” Harley lied, as if it wasn’t sending his heart all aflutter. Over any ridiculous crush he may or may not have, he wanted to be there for his friend. In and of itself, the physical contact was fine, and safe. So he’d just get over it. Maybe now was an okay time to check in quietly, as much as he was aware of Riri’s curious attention and Gwen’s raised eyebrow when he tore his eyes away from Peter’s. “You okay?”
Peter hummed. “Yeah. I will be, at least. Harry’s a good guy. I just… it was unexpected, is all. I’ll tell you more later.”
“Harry?” Gwen questioned. Riri was now looking at her phone, well and truly not listening anymore. Perhaps she’d decided this wasn’t her business? “Did something happen with you and him?”
Peter chuckled a little dryly. Harley resisted the urge to put an arm over his back and give him a reassuring squeeze. Peter hadn’t asked for that. “We used to be best friends, back when he lived in New York.”
And Harry remembered him, Harley thought, realising that his earlier suspicions had been right. He wanted to ask more, but it could wait until later. Peter had a chemistry lecture in an hour, followed by a chemistry lab class a couple hours after that Harley knew he still had to prepare for. In the evening, then.
“Huh, what are the odds?” Gwen asked, and Harley had to catch himself from trying to answer upon realising it was rhetorical. “Small world, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” Peter answered, and it dawned quickly on Harley that he meant it in an entirely difference sense. It would feel like a small world for him when so few people even knew of Peter’s existence.
“And yet so big,” Riri added. “I’m Riri, by the way. She/her. Having a crisis about the recent discovery of just how gay I am.”
“Peter, he/him,” Peter answered, and by now Harley had gotten used to the presence and weight of Peter’s head on his shoulder. “Yeah, I remember when I was fourteen and had my various crises. Somehow, realising I liked guys made me more of a mess than realising I was a guy.”
“So we’re all sad gay messes?” Gwen asked with a wry sort of grin plastered across their face. “You know, I know just the thing to help. What are y’all doing for the next few hours?”
Peter raised his hand lazily into the air just for as long as he spoke. “I have chem, and I need to go so I can talk to the professor about testing out into the next class.”
Riri whistled. “That’s gonna be tough. I had all these plans set up to test out of my differentials class last semester but I had some… stuff happen and I missed the exam the lecturer set me. The dude would not let me do a resit. So, what’s the thing?”
“Piercings!” Gwen exclaimed gleefully. “They help with the sads. Plus, they look hot as hell on just about everyone. And I can finally start getting some now that I’ve moved out, so I absolutely wanna get on that.”
“Aw yeah, I can get behind that!” Riri agreed eagerly. “Y’all think a piercer would let me get an industrial as my first?”
“You can sure as hell try,” Gwen encouraged her. “Harley, you in? We can head off in like half an hour.”
“Sure, why not,” Harley easily agreed too. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t considered getting piercings at some point - in fact he already knew exactly what he wanted to start with. Self expression was right up there on his priority list now that he was out of Rose Hill, and this felt like a good way to start. Plus, he had a little something from the Stark Tech supply that’d help his ears heal pretty quickly.
Peter’s head lifted off Harley’s head all of a sudden, whirling to turn over to the big group conversation by the couches. Harley’s attention followed, and he quickly understood why Peter had turned, and why his expression had sunk even more.
“-yeah, Jessie Schultz,” Julia, the club president, was saying. “It couldn’t have happened to a better kid, and I’m just so glad that Spiderman and that new Iron Lad guy were there to help her.”
“You know her?” one of the others asked.
Julia nodded pensively. “I volunteer at the shelter she was staying at every now and then. She called me yesterday, said she’s heading off to New York so her dad can’t get at her again. Couple of her friends might go with, and I’ve reached out to a cousin there to ask it if it can help her out.”
“I wonder if the rumours are true,” another voice wondered aloud. “You know, that Spider-Man is trans and Iron Lad is gay?”
“I hardly think a kid in distress would just make that up,” a guy with his head in Julia’s lap said. “It’s kind of amazing, too. I’d never want to pressure anyone to be out, but imagine if both of them went public about that? Queer superheroes looking after our neighbourhoods? God, it’d make such a difference.”
“At the same time,” Julia piped in again, “They’re their own people, and they get to make decisions like that based on what they’re comfortable with. It’d get them a lot of attention that they might not want. From what I’ve heard, Spider-Man has always tried to be the kind of small neighbourhood protector, only occasionally getting wrapped up in Avenger business. And this Iron Lad guy is completely new.”
Harley could only stare. He wanted to join in on the conversation, but he had no idea what he could possibly say that wouldn’t result in him completely losing his composure and outing his secret identity. But… hearing the other people in the lounge talk about the potential for change he could make? Maybe he would let his Iron Lad persona be openly gay. He couldn’t speak for what Peter would do, and he’d never pressure his friend into a decision about that, but… Harley had to take the idea seriously.
After what had happened on Friday night, with Jessie and her dad and how overwhelming it had been, he wanted to do something. When he heard that this sort of thing wasn’t all that irregular, that even in a place that was supposed to be far more progressive and open-minded than where he came from, queer people were still the victims of hate crimes pretty regularly? Harley wanted to do something.
Those chemistry classes had been easy. When Peter had asked the professor if he could skip ahead and take Organic Chemistry II this semester instead of Organic Chemistry I, the professor had seemed reluctant to agree. The deal that Peter had wrangled out of him was that if he could hand in a perfect summary of the lecture and perform the laboratory task perfectly on his own, he’d be allowed to take a test on Friday to see if he was good enough to test out.
Of course, Peter had no issues with either - it wasn’t just some accident that he had been able to produce his own web fluid since he was fourteen. It was because chemistry and chemical engineering was his biggest special interest and he knew his stuff. Organic chemistry wasn’t necessarily his strong suit, but the unit guide hadn’t suggested there was anything in the first class he didn’t already know.
Well, Friday afternoon’s exam would be easy enough, so long as Peter made sure to study and revise and make sure he didn’t forget any little details. It’d go fine, and then Peter could accelerate his degree a little. Or, perhaps, he could use it as an opportunity to take on less classes this semester and give everything - including his nighttime activities - more attention. So far, he’d only been out on patrol once since moving in to MIT, and it was eating at him. Cambridge wasn’t like New York; it didn’t have the kind of active hero profile New York did.
Peter needed to do more. He could discuss alternating with Harley some nights and patrolling together others, and perhaps he could see if there were any merits to the supposed sightings of someone flying around in another iron suit the previous year. He could also make sure to look after the shelter Jessie Schultz lived at, and other such ones that protected queer youth, because he wanted to give to his community.
He’d been listening intently to that whole conversation back in the lounge, and that idea of the benefits of Spider-Man being openly trans had weighed on him since. It was something he’d thought about before, but not something he could just jump straight into. He needed to think it over, and he needed advice. And on top of that, the whole situation with Harry still weighed on him. If Aunt May was still alive, Peter would have talked it over with her. If Mr. Stark was still alive, Peter could have talked it out with him. But… neither of them would remember him, if they were still alive.
Peter remembered what Aunt May had always said was the next best thing if he needed someone to talk to about something heavy - go speak with the rabbi. Uncle Ben’s advice had once been the same. As much as his family didn’t go to their synagogue often, it was exactly that kind of place where they could all find community and share in experiences.
So Peter had spent half an hour looking into the local reform communities before heading out, making sure to leave early enough. There was one community that stood out when Peter was searching - it was called Temple Beth Shalom, which was an amusingly common name for synagogues in the United States. The community was new, having popped up a year after the Snap, led by a young rabbi named Daniel Isaacs. It very openly had queer pride signs and images on the website, and the community members looked to be on the younger side too.
Peter just hoped that the Rabbi would have time for him before heading home for the day. The synagogue closed at 7:30pm, and Peter had left at 7:15pm just as the sun was setting. He should have time to swing - well, mostly slingshot - himself into the neighbourhood, hide away his suit in favour of the casual clothes he wore underneath, and try to approach the rabbi. He just hoped he wasn’t being rude about it. Maybe he’d end up not talking to the rabbi but signing up for a community membership, but that was still progress.
It was a close call, reaching the front of the synagogue building at 7:25pm. He ignored several texts from the brand new group chat Gwen had made with him, Harley and Harry, because they would only distract him and slow him down. He could check afterwards - besides, he still wanted to actually process everything to do with Harry before properly interacting with him, even if he was giving Harry the benefit of the doubt.
Just as Peter was about to knock, the door swung open. Peter found himself face to face with a man who very much resembled the image he’d seen of Rabbi Isaacs. The lower parts of his hair hung to his shoulders, with the upper section tied up. Rather than the kind of formal suit the rabbi from Peter’s childhood community would wear, this man wore a plain t-shirt and track pants. He had the barest bits of a beard, and wore octagonal glasses over his green eyes. All in all, he looked like a completely ordinary guy. He was a little fatter in person than in the photos, and he held himself with the posture of someone who felt truly relaxed and comfortable in his life.
“Good evening, may I help you with something?” Rabbi Isaacs asked, blinking curiously at Peter. He had a warm smile on his face, one that made Peter feel welcome.
“Uh, hi. I’m… uh, I’m Peter,” Peter started, realising that he had put absolutely zero thought into how to approach this man, such details completely lost in all the rumination of what he wanted to actually talk about. “I go to MIT, just moved in last week.”
Rabbi Isaacs grinned. “A fresher, huh? And what brought you here, to our little Beth Shalom?”
Peter scratched awkwardly at the back of his head, separating a tangle amongst his curls in the process. “I, uh… community. And advice, I guess. My aunt and uncle always said that after them, the next best person to go to for advice was a rabbi.”
“Past tense?” Rabbi Isaacs questioned. “Unless I’m misunderstanding, I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Peter looked down. “They were my last family. And… someone else, but he died too.”
“Then may their memories be for a blessing, and a revolution,” Rabbi Isaacs offered gently. “I was just on my way out, but I find myself considering a visit to the park that’s just around the corner. Would you like to join me?”
“Uh… yes, that sounds nice,” Peter managed, trying to yank his composure back together because Rabbi Isaacs was making a very kind offer and now Peter could maybe get the advice he wanted. He and the Rabbi started walking, though it really wasn’t far. Around the corner even felt like a bit of an overstatement; it was right down the road.
“So, something troubles you?” Rabbi Isaacs asked as they walked. He didn’t tower over Peter too much, but he certainly was tall. “You look quite tense.”
“Uh…” Peter mumbled, because even if he’d wrangled his brain through how to phrase things without revealing his secret identity, it still felt beyond strange to talk to a rabbi about his Spider-Man related concerns. At the very least, he could tell the rabbi about Harry. “An old friend of mine came back into my life today. He was my best friend as a kid, right up until we were ten years old and his family just disappeared. Apparently, they moved to Boston, but left no way for me and my family to reach out. He shows up in my class today, and it’s the first time he’s known me by my current name. Or known me as a guy, for that matter. He seems to want to be friends again, but I just…”
“You don’t know how to process it, right?” Rabbi Isaacs suggested, and Peter nodded. They turned the corner, and started walking along the side of the park. “Well, do you want to rekindle a friendship with this young man?”
“Yes, I-” Peter said quickly, realising for himself just how easily that answer had spilled out. He craved connection so much after the events of Liberty Island, but even more than that, this was Harry. “Yes.”
“Tell me, what is god to you?” Rabbi Isaacs asked, and Peter found himself quite taken aback by the non sequitor. “I promise this has a point.”
Peter shrugged. “Not much, if I’m honest. I’ve always been a science kid, and I’ve never liked the idea of believing in what hasn’t been proven. I know there’s Thor and Loki, and I’ve even seen actual magic being done, but the idea of an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient god above all else? It’s not something I believe in.”
Rabbi Isaacs huffed. For a moment, Peter was worried he had offended the man and ruined his chances of having this community - that was, until he saw the man smiling. “If you ask me about god as a higher power, I would tell you the same thing.”
Peter’s eyes widened, and he stared a little. “You would?”
Rabbi Isaacs nodded. “I share your view that some kind of reliable proof is needed, but I am also of a mind that god doesn’t have to be a higher power. Many people choose to have faith in such a higher power, and it’s actually a very respectable and even admirable ideal to hold, so long as it isn’t being used to exact unkind power. To me, god is an idea. God is the idea of potential, of what could be. It is up to us to actualise that potential.”
“What do you mean?” Peter asked, his mind running laps to try and understand how that idea worked.
“In the Torah, we see all sorts of amazing and awful things happen; the Ten Plagues have always fascinated me, and there is of course also the splitting of the sea, Joseph’s prophetic dreams, that great big flood that preceded the covenant, and much more. All of that shows potential for good, and for bad. Of course, it’s far more complex than such a binary, too. The more the rather supernatural truths of our world unfold, the more I see that the stories of the Torah may in fact be real. Perhaps there was some higher power going around calling itself god, and it may have been extra-terrestrial. Or perhaps it was simply humans behind all that happened. But all of it is a marker for potential. When I pray to god, I am praying for what potential I wish would manifest, and then I seek to enact those wishes myself and amongst my community,” Rabbi Isaacs explained.
The dots started connecting in Peter’s mind. He was almost distracted by this fascinating revelation of the Rabbi’s beliefs, and how… simultaneously optimistic and realistic they were. “Is the point to do with the potential for what this friendship may bring?”
Rabbi Isaacs nodded. “It certainly is.” The two of them settled at a bench in the park. “There could be quite some positive potential in restoring this friendship of yours. You could make good out of it, by going into your friendship in a healthy manner. But this begs another question. Do you forgive this friend of yours?”
“I-” Peter started, and then paused to think about it. He knew now that Harry’s sudden disappearance wasn’t his fault. He didn’t remember much about Harry’s mother, but what he did remember was that Agatha Harkness had been… temperamental, at best. He never really remembered getting the sense that she loved Harry, and that had made him so so sad as a kid. He was starting to understand why the Osborns might have needed a completely fresh start. “Not yet, but I think I could. In reality, his disappearance wasn’t his fault at all.”
“Well, that’s certainly something that you could work on,” Rabbi Isaacs advised. “It certainly isn’t your sole responsibility. You may wish to tell this friend of yours how much he hurt you, and not bottle that up on your lonesome. Forgiveness in Judaism is an interesting thing - you are not expected to forget how you have been hurt or wronged. The idea is simply that you accept the one who wronged you, and allow for a relationship with them. Over time, the harm may be healed, or it might not, but you can build something new on top of all of that.”
Peter exhaled deeply as he wrestled with the emotions wrought by Rabbi Isaacs’ words. The idea forgiveness he was being taught was totally different from what Peter had grown up with. Peter had always thought of forgiving someone as letting go of what they had done entirely, a way of being a better, kinder person. But to not have to let go and still build something positive all the same? So much tension just… released. A few tears ran down his face. “I… thank you.”
“You are most welcome, Peter. Is there anything else? I have a little more time before my wife and children grow upset with me for being late - we have a Monday night tradition of watching recordings of Doctor Who episodes, and we’re up to last year’s season already,” Rabbi Isaacs chuckled.
Peter debated whether or not to ask about the whole ‘being out’ issue. Without outing his identity as Spider-Man, he might not be able to convey the magnitude of impact he could have, but at the same time, Rabbi Isaacs seemed… like a really, really good person to bounce ideas like this off of. “There’s something else, and it’s both… more and less personal than the last. I have… there are some people who really look up to me. Included in that are young queer kids, who don’t really know that I’m like them? I mean, I’ve known that I’m trans, and that I’m bi, for years now. But it’s never been something that I’ve been open about outside of my friends before. I know that if I went public, it’d help them a lot. But I also don’t know if that’s a step I’m ready to take.”
The Rabbi chuckled, as though there was some kind of joke in what Peter said that he wasn’t privy to. He knew it wouldn’t be that the Rabbi wasn’t taking him seriously - he had enough of a sense of the guy to know that. But it evoked concern all the same. “Peter, let me tell you something so that you don’t panic. You know I’m a rabbi, and that essentially means that I’m an autistic Jewish nerd who happens to like scripture and community work - in my case, it was a particular fascination with the nature of talmudic arguments that convinced me to attend rabbinical school after completing my engineering degree.”
Peter felt apprehensive, but also quite lost. What was Rabbi Isaacs getting at?
“I also am careful with secrets, and know what is and is not mine to share with anyone,” Rabbi Isaacs continued. “With that said, the jacket almost saved you, but you may have forgotten to take your web shooters off.”
Peter’s eyes practically bugged out as he stared down at his wrists, and his web shooters stared right back at him. Shit. All of this thought and worry about keeping his hero identity secret, and he’d made such a basic mistake. Now this Rabbi, who he’d known for all of half an hour, knew that he was Spider-Man.
“Oh god I fucked up,” Peter whispered under his breath before speaking more loudly. “You can’t… please don’t tell anyone? People I care about have gotten hurt the last time my identity got revealed. To the world, actually.”
“As I said, I have no intention of ever sharing this particular secret, as it’s not mine to share,” Rabbi Isaacs assured him. “Wait- to the world?”
Peter chuckled awkwardly, as he made quick work of removing his web shooters and sliding them into his backpack. “Yeah, pretty much everyone knew, until a spell got cast that made everyone forget who ‘Peter Parker’ is. It’s a long story. You’re now one of three people other than me who even know that’s a thing.”
“Every day I thank god that I’m not a superhero - I don’t think my anxiety could handle the stress,” Rabbi Isaacs joked, which managed to ease the tension and help Peter relax. “But… now I can answer your question more fully. I think that ‘coming out’ is a very personal decision and I wouldn’t dream of telling you under any circumstances what you should do about it. I could tell you about the eight ‘levels’ of tzedakah, as much as they are more complex than they are set out to be, but I think it wouldn’t provide you with anything new that you haven’t already considered. No, what I can tell you is that if Spider-Man presents himself to the world with his queer identity, Beth Shalom would have his back. As would many other Jewish and non-Jewish organisations, and the people within them. It would not be an act without support. Spider-Man would not be doing this alone.”