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Message-ID: <27659asstr$975669002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: mickypaige@aol.com (Micky Paige)
Subject: {ASSM} Gabriel 1a/? (m/f teen MC)
Date: Fri,  1 Dec 2000 06:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

                                               Gabriel
                                        By Micky Paige
                            (Proud Member of The Wolfpack)




Author's Note:
     I got the inspiration from two other stories that I have had the pleasure
of reading. One being, "CAMP", the other being "Marcus' Power". But rest
assured guys, I certainly will not steal your ideas. I just wanted to thank you
guys for the push to write this little story.
Please send all comments to MickyPaige@aol.com.



Chapter One



Gabriel Karson sat in the Department of Human Services with a relaxed posture.
He idly wiped his jet black bangs from his impassive eyes. This was about his
seventh visit to the DHS in his life. So, this little trip was nothing new to
the fifteen-year-old. 
     
Gabriel guessed that he could not blame his last foster-family for letting him
go. He had not spoken a word to any of them in over a month. Then there was the
small altercation he had with their neighbor. The boy had been dumb enough to
throw a rock at him for fun . . . The boy that threw the rock ended up getting
a nice room with three meals a day at the county hospital. Gabriel never said a
word, but the neighbors said it was self-defense pure and simple.
     
Now here he sat, wearing faded jeans with a blue t-shirt tucked into them,
along with a pair of sneakers. I wonder who they'll give me this time. He
thought wryly. His last foster-family was an elderly couple, but very strict.
They'll probably give me Hitler's grandson this time. He thought with a sad
smile. He really didn't care where he went anymore. Gabriel had come to the
conclusion that all life was meant for, was to kill time until death.
     
His philosophy was that if there was a God, he had either pissed him off in
some way, or he just simply turned away from him. In Gabriel's mind, he had too
many years of bad experiences to prove this theory wrong.
     
He had been in seven foster-care homes. But there was nothing lucky about that
number. Three of them made him end up in emergency rooms. And there was a
fourth where he should have gone, but they didn't bother to take him.
     
His brown eyes scanned the room for what seemed like the millionth time. A
small waiting room, really. It was also fairly sparse. The room had a sofa, two
chairs, and a table. That was it, but Gabriel thought that was all right, that
was all that was really needed.
     
Gabriel was somewhat early, his so-called ex-foster-parents had just dropped
him off and left. He was pretty sure that everything came down to the word
'want'. They 'wanted' to help him really bad in the beginning, then they
'wanted' to get rid of him really bad in the end. Or at least that was the way
Gabriel thought it was.
     
Gabriel's keen ears heard footsteps in the other room before whomever it was
made it anywhere near the large oak door that he was looking at. A heavy
person, judging by the click the shoes make when they hit the floor . . . They
don't sound like a woman's. I bet its John. Gabriel thought with a smirk as the
door opened to reveal the man he was just thinking about. His social worker.
     
John walked into the room with a rakish grin. He was a little chubby and was
starting to go bald, even at the tender age of thirty-six. Gabriel couldn't
help but like the man . . . A little anyway.
     
"Hey Gabriel, how are you doing today?" John asked a little too cheerfully for
Gabriel's tastes.
     
Gabriel just shrugged his left shoulder. Even if he did like the man, he still
didn't like idle chit-chat. Gabriel had never found a person he did like enough
to have a conversation with, at least not in foster-care anyway. And besides,
John was throwing him into the lion's den: Again. But his face still remained
completely uninterested and impassive.
    
John was not a stupid man, he knew that Gabriel would not talk unless it was to
give a required answer. So he asked one. "What happened last week, Gabriel?"
     
"Fate decided that it was time I got hit in the head with a rock," Gabriel's
voice was low, even and sounded more than a little dangerous. For some reason,
it always seemed to sound that way.
     
It had always amazed John how this fifteen-year-old kid could project such
presence. The kid possessed something that just made you keep an eye on him and
stay just a little bit nervous. Sometimes more than a little nervous. 
     
But John hid his nervousness like a master. "Did fate also decide that the kid
that hit you with the rock get bashed by a two-by-four, oh, about nine times?"
John asked with an expectant look.
     
Another shrug from Gabriel. He didn't feel the urge to tell John that the kid
had pulled a knife. Nor did he feel the need to justify his actions. Gabriel
figured if John wanted to, he could look at the police report. 
     
John decided that it was best to change the subject. "Gabriel, the woman that
is taking you in is a very nice lady. She knows your history in foster care . .
. She don't care. All she wants to do is help. Can you make more of an effort
to accept help this time?"
     Past history?? That's a joke. What, did you tell her about my visits to
the hospital? Gabriel thought sarcastically. He hated pity more than anything.
"What's her husband like?" The only reason he asked was because he really had a
bad history with foster-fathers.
     
"She's single,"
     
"Single??"
     
"Yeah, her and her old man split up about five years ago . . . She also has a
kid about your age. Her name is Tayler. The woman that is taking you in is
called Dawna Wilson," John said with a private grin. Ohhh, I think he's gonna
like Tayler . . .  John thought as he watched Gabriel's eyes turn calculative
and then cynical. He almost knew what Gabriel was going to say before he said
it.
     
"A single mother, wanting to take in a foster-brat . . . Gee, John, I wonder if
she could possibly need money??" Great, that's all I need. His thoughts were
then captured by John's words.
     
"Don't take that tone Gabe. No, she isn't after money,"
     
"And you would no this, how?"
     
John was feeling a bit smug before he said his next words. "Gabriel, she's the
heiress to her father's fortune. The lady is a multi-millionaire," He replied
with a smile the size of his home state of Georgia.
     
Ok, I put my foot in my mouth. Gabriel thought. Yet another reason I should
keep my mouth shut. Then he gave John another shrug with an impassive look. He
had never met a millionaire, but money also never impressed him much either.
"When do they arrive?" He asked in the same low voice. He was still kicking
himself for talking too much.
     
John noticed a sad look pass before the Spanish-brown eyes of Gabriel. But he
chose not to ask why. Because if there was one thing he was certain of, it was:
Gabriel detested pity. It was far better strategy to try and get the thoughts
that were running through that overly smart brain of his on a different track. 
     
"Dawna will be here within ten minutes. Her daughter couldn't make it. She had
a Martial Arts class she had to attend," John replied, knowing full well that
would get the boy's attention. John had been aware that Gabriel had been self
teaching himself Martial Arts for some time.
     
Martial Arts? That might be interesting. He thought with just a little wonder.
Then he gave John another shrug. "Whatever,"
     
It'll be ok kid, I have a good feeling about this one. John wanted to say those
words out loud, but he knew that Gabriel wouldn't believe it and probably
didn't want to hear it. "Well, Gabe, I gotta go do some paper work . . . To get
everything settled. I'm going to have to say my goodbyes now, because when
Dawna gets here, I'll still be doing paperwork. You just go on with her,"
    
"Right. Later, John," Gabriel said with a twitch of a smile. He then watched as
John made his way towards the door. "Don't get writers cramp," he added before
John made it out the door. It was a small joke and he didn't usually tell them.
But he made a little exception when it came to John.
     
John gave a light laugh, then closed the door. When Gabriel heard the click of
the door, his small smile faded. It's time to hurry up and wait Gabriel. His
thoughts told him.
     
Gabriel stood up, noting the sign that was beside the door. No Smoking. He gave
a light chuckle and pulled out a pack of Kools and a pack of matches. He then
lit him a cigarette. Gabriel sat back down, blowing a lung full of smoke out as
he did so.
     
'Waiting' was a game Gabriel had gotten very good at through his time at
foster-care. He looked up at the clock every few minutes. He could not help but
be curious about why a millionaire would want a foster-kid. I guess I'll find
out later. He thought.
     
The door opened just as Gabriel dropped the butt in his hand to the floor and
stepped on it. Gabriel looked up to see a woman in a pair of jeans more faded
than his were. She had on a cream-colored blouse that really brought out the
color of her eyes.
     
Her eyes were that of an ocean blue. She had hair that was shoulder length and
was platinum blonde. Those eyes seemed to twinkle as she looked at the
cigarette Gabriel just put out and then up at the sign. She took on a coy look
at that moment.
     
"Now, if that doesn't say 'I don't give a fuck', I don't know what does," That
little statement actually drew a smile out of Gabriel. "My name is Dawna and
you must be Gabriel," She said with an expectant look.
     
"And you must be right," He said. She's different, that much is a certainty. He
thought with just a little delight. There was just a certain charisma that she
had that he genuinely liked. 
     
"Ya ready?" By the look on his face, I'd say I made a good impression. Dawna
thought.
     
"Do I have a choice?" He replied with a cock of the head. He was examining his
new foster-mother.
    
"You always have a choice. We could sit in this room until kingdom-come, but
that might piss my daughter off," She said with that same charisma. "Should I
take a seat?"
     
Gabriel came to the swift decision that he liked this woman. "Nah, we wouldn't
want to piss off your daughter, now would we?" He said wryly. "Ready when you
are,"
     
"Great, lets hit the road," I don't think he is as much of a problem-child as
John described him to be. Dawna thought. 

Dawna started out the door then. Gabriel followed obediently. They walked
outside and Gabriel got a little surprise. He looked at the car they stopped in
front of. "Fully restored '68 Mustang," he said lightly.
    
"Yeah, she's my baby, rebuilt her myself," Dawna said proudly.
     
Yeah, she is most certainly different. He thought as he opened the door,
slipping into the car. When the car's owner took her seat behind the wheel he
asked "So what part of town do you live in?" He had an idea already . . . The
rich side.
     
"I don't. Me and Tayler live out in the boondocks," And with that, she started
up the engine, which purred like a kitten.
     
"Great,"
    
"What don't you like about town?"
    
"People," Gabriel stated simply and with a straight face. He wasn't lying
either.
    
"Good,"
    
"Why is that 'Good'?," Gabriel asked out of curiosity.
    
"You and my daughter have something in common," She said with a light laugh.
     
A girl that's into Martial Arts, and doesn't like people. She should be . . .
Interesting. He thought. "Whatever," He replied, thinking that he already had
enough small talk for now.
    
Dawna sensed that he wished to be quiet at that time. John had warned her about
that. He had told her not to push him if he didn't want to talk. She just hoped
that he got along with her daughter. She picked him because he had most of the
same interests as Tayler.
     
And Tayler's interests were a bit different than most teenagers, to say the
least. Tayler had serious worries about her taking in Gabriel . . . Especially
since she had the full intention of adopting him. Dawna guessed that she could
not really blame her daughter for worrying.
     
She'll like him . . . I hope. Dawna thought.


*******************


When she said she lived out in the boondocks, she wasn't kidding. Gabriel
thought. They had been on a dirt road for more than thirty minutes. But to
Gabriel's delight, Dawna liked to listen to southern rock, and that was his
favorite kind of music. They listened to ZZ Top almost all the way there.
     
He had developed a taste for this type of music because it was sort of like
blues and rock n' roll combined. It had somewhat of a soothing effect on him
and that was not a bad side effect. Least she has good tastes. He thought.
     
It seemed like a maze of trees the whole way there. It was when they started
down a steep hill when he first saw his new home. He saw it because she pointed
it out. Calling it a house would be like comparing caviar to French onion dip.
It was a three-story mansion.
     
It sat on what looked to be twenty acres of well-kept lawn and had a driveway
that looked to be almost two hundred yards of asphalt. It was long and a little
winding. Gabriel could not help but be a little impressed despite himself. This
was definitely the best looking place he had ever stayed in. After or before
foster-care. That was for sure.      
     
When they were pulling into the drive way, Dawna looked over to gauge Gabriel's
reaction on her home. There was a slight impressed look, but it was gone in
seconds. In its wake, it left a glacial mask, leaving all emotion void. "Well,
we're here. John already sent your stuff from your old home to here,"
    
"That was kind of him," He said, a small, a very small smile appeared and
disappeared.
     
"Come on, I'll show ya to your room. I hope you don't mind, but I bought a few
things and put them in your room. Anything you don't like you can throw out of
course," She said with that coy look she had at the DHS.
    
"You really didn't have to go through the trouble . . . But thanks," Gabriel
said. For some reason, he wanted to try to make an effort with this woman. It
wasn't just for John's sake either. He just thought that he had met a genuinely
nice woman trying to help him.
     
"It's no trouble," she said, a slight wink followed the words. There was a
security pad beside the door. It was the door's lock. Gabriel should know, he
read more than one book on electronics. A Dragon Dodson Security System . . .
That cost her a pretty penny. He had studied the stats on that system, out of
pure boredom, just the week before. State of the art . . .
     
She hit the enter-button and they both heard the click of the door's locks.
"Welcome to your new home," 
    
"Thanks . . . For everything," There was genuine meaning in the words. He
didn't think Dawna knew it, but he rarely said those words. And with that, he
stepped over the threshold and into his new life . . . Hopefully.
     
"Don't mention it," Dawna said. Her voice was neutral, but on the inside she
felt elation. From what she had read in his file, he had talked more to her
than ninety percent of his foster-parents. And she was pretty sure that he
hardly ever said the words 'Thank You'.
     
Gabriel followed his new foster-mother through the house. Their first stop was
at a huge kitchen. A kitchen bigger than most living rooms he had dwelled in.
It was in there that she gave him a Mt. Dew from the refrigerator. She didn't
buy them like most people did though. She bought them in 20 ounce bottles
instead of cans. 
     
"Now, we go to your new room. You're on the third floor, so I hope you like
walking," She said, taking a sip out of her own bottle. She was going to follow
John's advice. He had told her to leave him alone after she put him in his
room, that way he could adjust in his own way.
     
But just from the few minutes with the boy, she had found out a lot of the
things that she had been told were wrong. Either that or she was the exception
to the rule. But she really prayed it was she. The thought made her feel a
little special. But she didn't know if that was hoping for too much. 
     
"I wouldn't have it any other way," He stated and started to follow the woman
once again. Well, this is better than what happened at my last place . . . They
just started to rattle off rules and what chores I had to do. He thought with a
small amount of appreciation.
     
The three stories of stairs were covered in light brown carpet. "How many rooms
does this place have anyway?" He asked as they walked at a slow pace up the
steps.
     
"Eight. When the holidays come we usually have them here. That's why I had th
place built. It's hell on the maintenance, but it's worth it on Christmas,
that's for sure," She said as they reached the third floor.
    
"I'll take your word for it," He replied with a quirk of the lips. Holidays . .
. When was the last time I had a REAL holiday dinner?? The thought saddened him
somewhat and he pushed it away.
     
They had passed several closed doors before they came to the closed door that
was supposed to be his. "Well, this is it. I hope it's to your liking. If you
need anything, I'll be down in the den. Tayler should be here in about an hour
. . . You can meet her then,"
    
"All right, I'll probably be down in a few minutes though," He said in a low
and even voice.
    
"Well, I'll see ya then," Dawna said and started back for the steps. I hope he
likes it. She thought. She had told him that she bought him a few things. That
was not exactly true. She had spent hours shopping for stuff to go in that
room. But she figured a little lie wouldn't hurt. The only thing she wished she
could do, would be to see his face when he saw just what all she had bought.
     
Gabriel took in a deep breath and opened the door. He walked in and his first
thought was,  Jesus, it's bigger than the living room and kitchen combined in
my last home. 
     
The room was very large indeed. The first thing he noticed in it was the
king-sized water bed in the corner. Then he noticed a huge book shelf filled
with books until there was no space left. He walked over to the book shelf,
noting the two boxes of his old books on the floor.
     
Gabriel walked with tentative steps up to the dozens of books that were on the
large shelf. They all looked brand new. But that was not what surprised him.
What surprised him was that each shelf went by category. Philosophy was the
first. The shelf had every author he had every heard of on the shelf. Then
there was Psychology. Also, every author he had ever heard of.
     
Then there were computer books of all kinds. Manuals on UNIX, Linux, DOS and
Windows. Then there were manuals on Hacking, Cracking, Phreaking and security
systems: For house and computer. How in the hell did she know? She had to have
put HOURS into researching me to know I like this shit. Gabriel felt more than
a little flattered at the woman's gesture.
     
That was when he noticed the desk. The desk was very large and stained with
light-brown polish. But the desk did not interest him as much as what was on
it. What was on it was a very new looking computer. It had a 19-inch color
screen monitor. Gabriel liked that. He liked even more what he read on the side
of the computer. An 800Mhz with 128 megs of RAM. I guess I don't have to mess
around with the computers at Radio Shack anymore. He thought with a roll of the
eyes.
     
"I could get used to this," He said out loud. I think she put in a little more
effort into filling this room than she let on. But why would she go through so
much trouble?? He thought as he walked over to his bed.
     
He didn't want to admit it but he was very tired. He hadn't really gotten any
sleep since that last fight he got into. He had to admit that he went a little
overboard on that fight . . . Even if the kid did rush him. Gabriel guessed
that the kid thought he had a good chance of winning.
     
The kid pegged him in the head with a rock and let out a scream when he rushed
him. But Gabriel was no stranger to violence and put the kid on his ass in
seconds. Then the stupid kid had to pull a knife out. 
    
The people he was staying with were adding onto their house. That's where the
two-by-four came from. That was when Gabriel went overboard. The other people
didn't know it, but Gabriel knew it, he could have taken him without the board.
But the neighbors said it was self defense. So he got off.
     
Gabriel kicked off his sneakers and slipped onto the waterbed. It felt so good
that Gabriel could swear that it was sinful. Before Gabriel knew what was
happening, he was slipping into dream land.


******************************************************************


He was ten years old again . . . And hiding under his bed. He was supposed to
do the dishes, and do them he did. He broke an entire stack full of plates.
There were at least six of them. 
     
"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT?!" His foster-father bellowed out,
looking in each room. It was only a matter of time before he found him.
     
"Go away, go away, go away," Gabriel chanted over and over again. He knew that
his foster-father was drunk and liable to do anything. And he knew the chanting
would do no good.
     
He knew he was in serious trouble, even though he only knew his foster-father
for two weeks. He knew this because, about a week before, he accidently bumped
into a table that was holding a vase. That had caused the vase to fall and
break with a loud shatter.
      
That little incident had also earned Gabriel the right to feel what steel toed
boots felt like, after being kicked by them repeatedly. He couldn't walk for
days after that beating. But the promise of more beatings had been made if he
didn't hold his tongue at the hospital.
     
He continued the mantra of "Go away," 
     
Then suddenly, a hand clamped down on his ankle and dragged him out from under
the bed. When he was out from under the bed the first thing he noticed was how
the light flashed off the knife his foster-father was holding. Before he could
even put two and two together, it happened.
     
The knife came down with deadly speed.


******************************************************************


While Gabriel was in the middle of his own personal nightmare. His future
foster-sister was on her way home. She was almost there. Another girl that she
went to Martial Arts class with was nice enough to be giving her a ride home.
     
And home was a place that she definitely wanted to be. Even though she was a
little bit edgy about meeting their so-called new family member. Even though
her mother did have a legitimate and very good reason for wanting to take him
in. I just hope she's right . . .
     
"Penny for your thoughts?" Her friend, a brunette with light green eyes asked.
Janet was her name. "It looked like you were worried about something. It's not
about that walking dick that goes by the name of Tom is it. Look, the
Instructor saw the whole thing. He grabbed your ass. Who cares if your reaction
was to break his nose??" Janet asked with a laugh, She still thought it was
funny.
     
"Nah, he's not worth a passing thought . . . And my thoughts are not usually
worth a penny," Tayler replied, wiping an errant strand of sandy-blond bang out
of her sea-green eyes. It's time for a hair cut. She thought. She had been
putting it off for a month.
      
That was all that was said for the rest of the trip. Janet, to Tayler's great
pleasure, left the small talk alone. Her friend knew that she wasn't much for
small talk anyway. Some people thought she was just being rude, but Janet found
out that her friend just did not like idle chit-chat.
     
Tayler let her thoughts drift back to the week before. She had achieved her
black belt status that day. And it was also on that day that her mother had
told her that they were going to add a new member to the family . . . In more
ways than one. 
     
He's probably some ugly nerd that wouldn't know The Gift if it was handed to
him on a silver platter. She thought smugly as she watched the passing of the
trees. She just hoped that her mother was right.
     
She knew that her mother and she had to please SOMA. And on any other thing,
she would not have minded. But this . . . This was making Tayler a little
nervous. After all, she didn't even know the boy. And the thought of . . . She
closed the thought out of her mind before it could finish.
     
It was right at dusk when they pulled in front of Tayler's home. Janet looked
at her friend and was still trying to figure out why she had a worried look on
her face. "Are you sure nothing is . . ."
     
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll see in two days," Tayler said as she opened the door and
stepped out.
     
"All right. You better practice, that tournament isn't going to be a cake walk.
See ya later kiddo," Janet said and started her way back down the long
driveway. She never heard Tayler say "Don't call me that,"
     
Tayler walked up to the house with tote-bag in hand. It was getting close to
dark . . . She debated on going straight to her room to try and delay meeting
the boy her mother wanted her so desperately to meet. But then again, I never
was one to take a coward's way out. She thought grimly as she typed in the
security code.
     
Tayler walked into the house with her head up, knowing that her life would
change after this night. She walked with confident strides that in no way
reflected her thoughts. She saw light coming from the dining room. 
     
Ok, they are having dinner. Mom will wait until afterwards to have the
discussion with him. So I'm ok . . . for now. She thought with a sigh.
     
But when Tayler made it to the dining room, she was surprised to see her mother
sitting at the table eating alone. She walked with light footsteps to the
table. "So, where's dream-boy?" She asked with a smirk.
     
"Tayler Suzan Wilson! Mind your manners," Her mother told her in a somewhat
scolding tone. 
     
"Sorry,"
     
"As to where Gabriel is, he fell asleep in his new room. I think the poor thing
is just tuckered out," Dawna said with a slight frown.
    
"Well, since he's asleep, and here, could I please see the file you collected
on him? Or do I still have to wait and be patient? Ya know that really isn't my
strong suit Mom," Tayler said lightly, taking a seat beside her mother.
     
"You're really worried about this aren't you," It wasn't a question.
     
"Aw Mom, you know I just hate surprises. Ever since you found him, you've been
dead set on surprising me with him. You won't even tell me what he looks like,
and you've known that for MONTHS," Tayler said, a little exasperated.
     
"All right, I'll show you his file," Dawna said. "Follow me," She added and
started for the den.
    
Tayler got up and followed her mother as asked to the den. The den was rather
large and had a 50" color screen TV against the wall and large leather
sectional in front of it. There was also a pool table off in the right-hand
corner.
     
But Tayler's sea-green eyes were on nothing but the large (and quite beautiful)
painting of her great, great-grandmother. But the painting was not what
interested Tayler either . . . It was what was behind the painting that
interested her.
     
Behind the painting was a safe, and in that safe was where her mother kept all
of her files. Tayler watched, transfixed, as her mother gently took the
painting down. When it was removed, Tayler saw the greenish-gray safe. The
combination to that safe was something that Dawna would guard with her life, if
need be.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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