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[PEDRO PASCAL, CISMALE, HE/HIM] whoâs that? oh itâs GABRIEL âGABEâ DIAZ. i hear theyâre FORTY-FIVE and are known as THE THERAPIST around DOWNTOWN HAWKINS. theyâre also a TRAUMA & ADDICTION THERAPIST at INDIANA GOVERNMENT DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SECURITY. theyâre known to be SINCERE, OBSERVANT and STRAIGHTFORWARD, COMPLIANT. some people say they remind them of GROOVY MUSIC ON SUNDAY MORNINGS, THE VALUE OF A FLOURISHING GARDEN, DOG TAGS WORN BENEATH EVERY OUTFIT, AND BURYING YOURSELF IN CONCERN. [ro]
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full name: gabriel john diaz nicknames: gabe, dr. gabe birthday: november 1st, 1943 age: forty-five sun/moon/rising: scorpio/scorpio/taurus sexuality: homosexual education: literally his doctorate. did u know gabe is a doctor???
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aka, a handful of gabeâs favorite songs
i feel love - donna summer
youâre the first, the last, my everything- barry white
nothing can change this love - sam cooke
everybody plays the fool - the main ingredientÂ
(sittingâ on) the dock of the bay- otis redding
mustang sally - wilson pickett
shining star- earth, wind, & fire
papa was a rollin stone - the temptations
every 1â˛s a winner - hot chocolate
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groovy music on sunday mornings, the value of a flourishing garden, dog tags worn beneath every outfit, burying yourself in concern, firm handshakes, sharp scribbling on a pen, thoughtfully running hands through hair, fireflies at dusk, waving at strangers, believing in second chances, making friends with the skeletons in the closet, putting everyone elseâs oxygen mask on first, smiling at every opportunity, heavily annotated books, and a heart so big it bleeds.Â
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tw: war, addiction, homophobia, suicide mention
gabriel grew up on a small farm in rural illinois, the eldest of six, his responsible streak seemed to be written in the stars. his family didnât have much, but he had them, and that was all gabe needed. compared to other boys in the fifties, gabe had always been more in touch with his feelings. where his friends would tip cows for fun, heâd brush his fingers across their heads, and pretend their moos were secrets. heâd whisper back to them.
into his teen years, gabe was a staunch rule follower, they were there for a reason in the end, werenât they? he was an all american boy whoâs biggest dream was to make his family proud, build his parents a new barn, and buy them some more land to extend into. he was never much good with his hands, often only receiving bad marks in school when he took shop classes. he might not have known how to build an engine or anything fancy, but he was decent enough at science he thought heâd try for medical school.
the path from high school graduation to starting ( and completing ) his education in chicago was linear, but one of the most exciting times of his life. he had never met city folk with such strong thoughts. he learned much beyond the walls of school in those years, mainly, that he was gay, but that wasnât something he so much talked about then.
in 1969, gabe was twenty-six, and fresh out of med school when the vietnam war was itâs height. it was a miracle he hadnât been drafted by the end of the sixties. even if the big city had made a man out of him, he was still the same american boy at heart, and felt a call to the battlefield. not as a soldier of course, he was useless when it came to a fight (see: johnny davis and his pals calling him a queer and kicking the shit out of him in middle school.), but he was newly brandishing his doctorate, and he thought maybe if he went overseas he could fix up the troops, then come back to his regular life.
what a fool he had been. most days, gabe wants to punch that idiot in the head, knock the naivety out of him before the war got the chance to. he was in the battlefield as a combat medic until the bitter end i 1973 and the atrocities he saw changed him. that proud hearted, gentle, all-american boy died on the soil beside fellow soldiers. he never seemed to understand how he even survived, but he figured he was there for a reason, not by god, but fate or some other force. he concluded he was there to comfort people, to help them. that purpose carried him through and back home.
when gabe returned to chicago, heâd lost four years of his life to the war, but it might as well have been four centuries. he felt so out of touch with what the world was today, he had all of this pain, and nowhere to put it. gabe attempted to find that purpose again, working in a hospital briefly, but at the first sight of blood, he ran out of the room and freaked out. he was thirty years old, spitting out his fear into the toilet as his trauma ran down from his eyes in a bathroom stall. hospitals were out of the question for him from then on out.
feeling utterly lost, gabe followed down the steep slope of abusing drugs. whatever he could get his hands on to stop the nightmares, he took. like most tales of addiction, gabe destroyed his relationships, particularly with his family, and that only sent him deeper into this spiral. his behavior continued like this for the remainder of the seventies until he got the call in 1980 that one of his closest buddies from vietnam had committed suicide.
that was what it took for gabe to get his act together. he checked himself into a rehabilitation program, followed the rules, stuck to them, and came out clean in the end. he even came out of it with a new passion. some additional schooling was needed, but eventually, he became a licensed therapist, and started up his own practice in chicago. his pride and joy to date though were his two support groups, one for addicts and one for veterans. heâd found a reason to keep pushing, and life had been pretty good since then.
until the man came knocking, tearing their clutches into gabe one last time. that was what the government did, he supposed, sucked people dry. the agent said they heard about his success with these support groups, told him about a town called hawkins with a group being reintroduced into the population that was going to need his help, that there was drug problem, and there was nobody more qualified than he to do it. if that hadnât been enticing enough, there was of course the check. his parents were gone at this point, but it was big enough to get each of his siblings some of that land he always wanted to buy. he simply couldnât refuse.
so he gave his card to his current patients, encouraged them to keep meeting, and moved a state over to set up shop in hawkins. his practice currently sits in downtown and gabe plans to dotingly attend to those who were lost to the forest (that is when they show up to their mandatory appointments at least.) that being said, his door is open for any resident, and heâs looking forward to the future brightly, confident he can once again make a difference.












