I don’t know how to title my fics but I keep trying: a memoir
(This fic contains trans gabe)
Marigold Fields
If there was anything to be said about Gabriel Reyes, it was that he was a stubborn son of a bitch.
Even as a kid, he knew something was… off. He hated when people would coo over how “Marigold had such pretty daughters, Gabriella is the prettiest one of all”, he hated when he was scolded about not playing too rough with the boys at school, or when a teacher walked in on him cutting off his black curls (”Ay, my girl.” His mother would sigh, running her hand through his long black hair. “You get your pretty curls from your mama.”)
It was obvious when he saw the words on a forum, brooding in his room after avoiding worried, motherly glances all night. Transsexual. FTM.
He spent a while looking in the mirror that night, turning slightly to examine the body that was starting to curve, to “bloom” to use his mother’s term. He hated every second.
He smooths his hands over his wide hips, then looks at himself in the mirror, eyes trailing over his close cut, choppy hair. The broad nose he had refused to be ashamed of, his bright brown eyes.
“I’m a boy.” He whispers, and he says it again, louder. “I am a boy.”
The words melt like honey on his tongue, and he smiles for the first time in a week.
The next weeks aren’t exactly easy: he has no idea how he’s going to tell his mother, and the stories he reads for support aren’t comforting. There is hope there, true, but he knows hope is fleeting.
He’s seen his father walk out his front door too many times to really think otherwise.
The idea of his mother rejecting him makes his throat close up, and he thinks of a thousand different reasons to stay quiet. He’s always been interested in the military as a secondary career, he could transition there and tell her when he’s far away. Or he could leave LA, move somewhere remote and never speak to her about it. That could work.
As it turns out, he still isn’t good at keeping a secret from her, even at 16.
“Mama, I’m a boy.”
He blurts it out over dinner, and his family stares at him in surprise, Mama and his four sisters looking at him like he suddenly flipped the table. Gabe swallows, hoping the floor will just swallow him now to take those 5 pairs of eyes off of him.
“I-I know you think I’m a girl. But I’m a boy. Ive always been a boy. And I wanna be called Gabe now.” He wants to laugh at how assertive he sounds, as if he’s actually confident. As if he planned this and doesn’t actually want to die right this second.
His mother looks at him, blinks once, twice, then a slow, gentle smile spreads over her face.
“You should’ve told me sooner, mijo.” She says, as gentle as ever. “Now I have to fix your birthday cake.” It comes out scolding, but her eyes are warm with love.
“Does that mean you can beat up the boy in my grade now?” Ale asks, stirring her pasta. “I mean, I know he’s not tougher than my big brother. And he’s not hitting a girl, so….”
Rosa, the youngest, gasps in delight. “Gabi can come to my brother-sister activity now!” She crows, clapping her hands
He has to duck his head then, hiding his face. The room is dusty all of a sudden, and he can’t help the tears welling up in his eyes.
His mother works harder to buy him a surprise birthday present, a binder to replace the sports bras he’s been aggressively wearing. Ale brings him boxers, and Rosa, Sage, and Carmellia spend the days fixing their drawings to include their big brother.
Unfortunately, a single mother with 5 school age children doesn’t exactly make enough to pay for a transition. Even with the wide availability, its not exactly cheap for people like Gabe. Even if his mother could pay, Gabe feels too guilty to ask: his sisters need the money more than he does. He’s okay with baggy clothes and a binder, slugging anybody who made a grab for him, a beanie on his head to hide his curls.
And it goes like this for years, until an opportunity shows up on his front door.
“Gabriel’s test scores are impeccable.” The man is wearing a military suit, bald with a polite smile but hard eyes. It’s setting Gabriel’s teeth on edge, and he can’t help but glare.
“He’d join an elite core: one that is working to end the omnic menace.” The man goes on. “And he’d get a nice pension to use how he pleases.”
That makes Gabe perk up, sitting up in his chair. “… One question.” He speaks for the first time, his worried mother looking at him in surprise. “What’s the policy on medical transition.”
The man looks at him, measuring him with his eyes. “We will pay your full medical bill for any and all transition you go through with us.” He says smoothly. “We take care of our soldiers.”
And that’s all it takes.
There are tears, of course. His mother doesn’t want him to go, is afraid of losing her baby boy. But Gabriel soothes her, like he always does, and he’s off to boot camp 2 months later.
They train him up, give him drugs that make his head spin, but it works. Nobody jumps more than him when he speaks and his voice cracks, getting deep and rough in a matter of weeks. He still has shades of curves around his waist and hips, but a steady work out routine has him in shape in no time, admiring his manly figure with a smile he hasn’t worn since he first realized who he was.
Things were going well, until Jack Fucking Morrison showed up.
He’s shaving when he hears a knock on the door (he nicks himself: it’s still a new experience), the door opening when he calls out a greeting. He’s looking in the mirror when the door opens, and he nearly drops his razor when he sees the other man.
Jack Morrison was a 5′ 10″ ball of sunshine, smiling at his 5′ 9″ self like they were old friends. He was nervous, though: he can tell by the strain at the corner of his blue, blue eyes, and the clutch of his hand on the door.
He’s got freckles dotting full cheeks. Fucking freckles.
He isn’t ashamed of his body, but suddenly he wishes his shirt was closer, if only to hide the scars under his pecs.
“Hello captain” Jack smiles at him, stepping in and saluting to the senior officer. “John Morrison reporting.You can call me Jack. It looks like we’re going to be roommates. Kind of weird, but…”
Gabe realizes he’s been staring like an asshole, and he quickly coughs, pulling on his beanie to make himself feel better. “Yeah. Uh. Cool.” He hums, trying to act like he’s suddenly very aware he’s gay. “Right. At ease.”
Jack relaxes, and its only then Gabe notices Jack is staring right back at him. The other man blushes when Gabe catches his eye, looking away. He sets his bag down, fumbling in it to give him something to do.
“I’ll just, uh… I’ll just get unpacked.” Jack glances at him to receive his nod of assent, then darts into the spare room, shutting the door quickly.
Gabe immediately ducks his head, burying his burning face in his arms. He had successfully managed to avoid becoming involved with anyone on base, not wanting to go through explanations time and time again. He liked his work, he was good at it, and he didn’t want any distractions to stop him from getting shit done. Distractions were just problems that hadn’t formed yet.
And Jack Morrison? He was shaping up to be a big fuckin’ problem.
