Blue Tears

By: Calypso

Rating: PG-13

Category: General

Summary: Gabe shows no aversion to the darkness that shadows Sarah's world for many reasons. But above all are the blue tears that he himself once shed.

Disclaimer: Witchblade and its characters are the property of topcow and it's affiliates; I claim no ownership of anyone in this story and do not intend to make any profit from this. The song is by Shania Twain. This was origenally written for the Convergence

"You worthless son of a whore - you're never gonna amount to anything but shit you hear me! Shit!" The harsh voice that rained slurred words upon seventeen year old Gabriel's ears was an unpleasant one. It was a voice that he had been forced to listen to for far too long.

"Go to Hell!" For the first time in his life he dared to yell back at his stepfather though he had hated the man from the first time they met. The slamming of the car door was his goodbye to the one tie he had left in this town and the starting of the engine was the signal that he would never come back again.

"You can go to hell and take this whole damn town with you." The last statement was murmured to himself as the small gray house that he'd lived in most of his life disappeared from his rearview mirror for the last time. In the mirror, he also saw the bruises around his eye that were finally beginning to heal, and the scar on his forehead that his hair still barely managed to hide.

Positively never going back,

I won't live where things are so out of whack.
No more rolling with the punches,
No more using or abusing.

These momentos were the legacy of his stepfather, two, of far too many that covered his body. Received first from stepping between his mother and Dave's blows and later from making the mistake of showing he had any signs of intelligence. His mother was dead now. Free from the life of misery she had led for the past ten years, freeing him from the only reason he had ever taken the abuse he'd been given.

As his small hometown faded into the New England freeway his mind began to clear of the anger and pain that he'd felt for so long, replaced by grief for his mother and hope for a new chance. He had decided long ago that he'd go to New York one day, and this day seemed as good as any. Maybe he was young, and maybe he didn't have any money, but what he had was determination and a will to prove that he would be someone. Something. I'd rather die standing,
Than live on my knees
Begging please -- no more

People in his hometown said that New York was cold, that it was a city of metal hearts and no compassion. To Gabe, New York was a chance at warmth, of unfreezing his heart and starting anew. Unlike many of his neighbors and classmates he knew what coldness really was. It had been his companion when he'd decided he'd rather sleep in his car on the chilliest night of winter then go home. He'd felt it when Dave made him sleep in the yard for steeping between his mother and that damned drunk.

But none of that mattered anymore, all of it was behind him now. Whatever happened, he'd rather wait tables twelve hours a day then go back. Maybe he'd have to sleep in his car; maybe he'd have to scrub toilets. Gabe didn't know what awaited him, but he knew that anything would be better then what he'd left behind. Anything would be better then living under another mans fists and answering to another mans temper.

Definitely found my self-esteem
Finally -- I'm forever free to dream
No more crying' in the corner
No excuses -- no more bruises

He'd take his chances and start anew; he'd do whatever it took. His only regret was not being able to take his mother with him. That he hadn't had the power to save her from the man that would ultimately kill her. Yet even so he felt an odd sense of peace about it all, he would miss her, yes, but he also knew that she would never have to cry herself to sleep again, that where she was, she'd be happy that he'd left.

His future was uncertain at best, but there were many people who had it tougher then he did. Immigrants who didn't speak the language or poor third world children who had no education. He'd make his way in the world; his life would be whatever he made of it. He'd take those chances and if life chose to knock him down, then fate would help him up again. His home faded into the distance and eventually the life he'd led there would fade into memory, but the lesson's he'd learned there would not and never again would he live as he had there.

Black eyes -- I don't need 'em
Blue tears -- gimme freedom
Black eyes -- all behind me
Blue tears'll never find me now