Rachel Gatina

Direct your questions regarding gameplay with Rachel Gatina to the comments of this post! This is not an in-character mailbox, it is for OOC plotting. Comments are screened.

"Come on kid, up and at 'em, we're going to school."

They're late, as usual but whatever, Danny will get over it. She slings Jess up on her hip and grabs his bag, slipping sunglasses down to brace against the bright island sun and walks...directly onto a dirt road.

"No," she chokes, freezing as Jess starts to cry from the sudden shock. She whirls around, finding nothing but mountains and woods and where the fuck are they? She can't do this. She can't be by herself. Goddammit Danny. It was just her, she'd give up. She'd just curl up and die right here but Jess is crying and it's fucking winter and she's in shorts and what the hell are they going to do?

She walks for nearly an hour, having given up her summer scarf to Jess, now down to shorts and a tank and unable to feel her fucking face. The first thing she sees is a trailer. It looks bad but Jess is getting quiet and still and there's no other choice.

She knocks and nearly runs for it when a half naked, clearly drunk asshole answers, leering at her in a way that makes her skin crawl but for the fact that he offers a glimmer of hope. "What the hell do you mean, bitch? You're in Harlan." It takes twenty minutes of begging and letting him feel her up while Jess sleeps on the dirty couch before he'll call "that asshole Marshal, yeah I know him."

It might not even be her Raylan. He might not know who the hell she is but it's still Raylan. He'll get her out of here.

The phone rings as she presses herself against the corner of the trailer, eyes flickering between her sleeping kid and the man who keeps inching closer to her.

 The only time that Raylan ever woke up before Rachel was when things were bad. Really bad. When Raylan wasn't sleeping and was jumpy and seeing things but as soon as Rachel wakes up and smooths a hand over the cold sheets she knows this feels different. 

Panic is held at bay long enough for her to throw clothes on, get Jess up to the Children's office and start searching. It's fucking useless, she knew it the second she woke up but she can't not even try. It's Raylan. It's her husband. 

By the time she's stumbled back to the house, shaking and exhausted, it's obvious. She was a fucking moron to ever think she could have this. A house and a family and a long life as someone's wife. Raylan's gone back to his lonely, miserable, backwoods existence and he'll never see his son again.

It's that thought that sends her to her knees in the dirt outside their porch. Jess won't remember his dad, Raylan won't remember either of them and Rachel's more alone than she's ever been. In the blink of an eye it's all gone.

She vaguely notes that the keening, sobbing noise is coming from her as she digs her fingers into her hair, wanting to destroy this place. She wants to burn it all to the ground for what it's taken from her.

 It's a calm day, considering. No monsters have crawled out of the fucking bushes and she actually feels okay sitting outside on the porch, like it's just another day. She should go see Danny, later. There's still this lingering feeling like he could break all apart and she wishes she could do anything to make it better. Make him magically okay.

She settles against her chair, eyes closed with her bare feet up on the table. She hears Raylan coming before she sees him, used to his gait after all these years. Things are still awkward between them, but she's trying to hope. Hope it'll be okay. 

"Hey babe," she murmurs, opening her eyes as he walks up. He just stares for a long moment, enough that she starts to fidget. Without warning he kicks the leg of the table. "Get your fucking feet off the furniture," he mutters before turning to walk inside. Her breath gets caught in her throat, whole body going cold as she sits in stunned silence. "Raylan!" she calls, pushing up and following him inside. "Raylan, what the fuck was that? Are you okay? What the hell was that?"

He whirls around, eyes flat and angry as he stalks up to her. "Don't back talk to me," he says before backhanding her across the face, hard enough to send her to her knees. She chokes out a cry as Jess starts to fuss, fingers digging into the hard floor as he moves to Jess's room. "Shut the fucking kid up, right now." 

"Stop!" she gasps, pushing up onto wobbly legs.  It's not...it's Raylan. Raylan hit her. Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ. "Leave him alone." She lunges forward, grabbing at his arm as hard as she can. "Fucking stop right now." This time, he hits her with his fist closed, right across the cheek, splitting the thin skin around her eye open as she crashes to the ground. She moans, hand cradling her face as sticky blood runs between her fingers before crawling towards Jess's door. He turns back around, thank God, shoving her out of his way with his boot before slamming the front door open hard enough to pull it off its hinge and leaves her. On the floor, alone. She scrambles into Jess's room, backs against his crib and starts to shake, hands smearing blood on the light, wooden floor. He hit her. He hit her.

 Rachel has bounded up and down the steps to their porch hundreds of times. Up and down the four steps quickly and without even thinking about it. Raylan built that porch sturdy and strong and while she's grateful for it, it's not really something she ever thinks about. She doesn't think twice about keeping Jess perched happily on one hip with his baby bag slung around the other shoulder. She's more than ready to get home, half a mind to cook Raylan something for dinner like an actual goddamn wife and reward his heartily with his husbandly rights. 

That's the very last thing she thinks before the top step gives way. Later on, she'll try to remember what happened but in that split second, she managed to get both arms around Jess, pulling him tight as first her shoulder and then face catches the side of the porch, landing her hard on her right side in the dirt. Jess immediately lets out a terrified shriek as Rachel lays gasping on the ground, too stunned to move or to check on Jess. Just gasps and doesn't. move. an inch.

So babies, it turns out, are boring.

Not to say that Rachel hasn't spent most of her time staring at the kid, with an equal mix of love and bewilderment but still. They sleep and then they want some boob and then they poop and that's mostly it.

Jess Davis Givens looks exactly what she'd imagine their kid would look like. Eyes already dark, hair an unmistakable dark red, and a mix of demanding and quiet. Breast feeding has been a nightmare but she's determined to make it work. There isn't really an abundance of formula in the Wild West and she wants him to have the best. It's the first time she's really, truly regretted her plastic surgeries.

She's sleeping almost as much as the kid, and she'll be glad when they can get home, or some approximation of home, anyway. She just wants to lie in a bed with the two of them and try and force herself to believe it's all hers.

Jess Davis Givens did not come into this world calmly or quietly. Well, that's to say his mother did not birth him calmly or quietly. From the get go, they were kind of fucked. Their new wild west house is miles from the clinic, along a hot, dusty path strewn with fucking rattlesnakes and all sorts of shit and the one time, the ONE TIME Raylan leaves her alone, boom. Labor.

Thank God for Danny who had quickly found her on her hands the knees not far up the road, contractions already coming hard and strong. And, you know, fucking old west. No real drugs, no sterile clinic, nothing. It was bad. It was really, really painful and there'd been something with her blood pressure and honestly, Rachel doesn't remember. She really doesn't. It's a haze of almost passing out on the way up there, a lot of panic until Raylan showed up, pain and more pain. And then, just like that, a baby's getting shoved into her arms and she's a mother. She barely had the strength to hold the kid but there he was. A crying, tiny little thing. Her son. Jesus.

Jess Givens is pretty predictable, already. A little solemn, unless he's hungry or pissed and then he's wild and loud and not a little terrifying. His eyes are already almost brown and there's a shock of dark red hair that Rachel seriously hopes doesn't get any more red.

The first time for everything was terrifying. Breastfeeding is a goddamn nightmare because of the implants. The doctors don't know if it'll work and it makes her a little sad. Diapers are horrible and frankly she still feels like she's gonna drop him half the time. He's dozing against her chest as she drifts a little, staring up at the wooden beams in the ceiling. Holy Shit. 

Rachel doesn't know what the hell that was all about. Steve kept trying to cut her hair off or something and Danny kept fucking trying to rub her head or some shit and it was like everyone was shitfaced or on something or God knows. She's at least grateful she was spared because knowing her she'd end up face first in a pile of coke and fuck the kid up on some permanent basis. 

But anyway. She feels like it's her best friend duty to go make fun of Danny relentlessly and warn him about the ramifications of fucking up her hair again. Right now, the hair's about the only thing that still looks good. 

She waddles her way over to Danny's place, vaguely thinking about what she's going to do if she goes into labor this far away from the compound before looking for a familiar mop of blonde hair.

That's when she realizes everything is very, very wrong. Because there's just a head. No hair. Just a fuzzy head. What. The. Fuck.

"What the hell did you do?" she cries, marching up with as much authority as she can muster in her condition.

Of the many, many things Rachel appreciates about the island shit going back to normal, is the reappearance of the club. Like, the actual club. It's her second home in this place and it's probably fucked up but frankly, so is Rachel. And as annoying as it is that she can't dance anymore, she still feels a part of everything behind the bar. Okay, she's not actually the best bartender as she's now spending like a third of the time sitting on a stool, but still. If you can't see her big belly, then all you really notice is her awesome pregnant boobs. And that's her gift to the patrons.

Anyway, she's stayed later than usual, sending Raylan home already with the promise not to be long. As much as she loves Danny, and generally can admit his advice is solid, this is something that she thinks Helen might understand a bit better. Or at least understand her position.

"Good night," she sighs, stretching her back out as the last of the customers filters out the door.

"Long night."

Rachel can't see her toes, anymore. Well, she can if she leans over but still. There's just gut. A big, hard gut. And in that big, hard gut, is a baby dude. It's just very, very strange. She would be loathe to admit, but the actual moment of finding out was a little magical and whatever but that's mostly because Raylan was there. And he seems so happy. He seems stoked. To have a son. That part seems real. It seems real that it's Raylan's son. Just not that it's Rachel's. Maybe not so much anymore because she doesn't want it, but that she still doesn't feel like she deserves it.

Whatever, now she's off to find Danny. She highly suspects he'll be disappointed it's not a girl, but maybe it's better that way. To have the baby not remind him anymore of his kid than necessary.

"So," she calls as she strolls up to his porch. "Do I have to start calling you Mr. McGarrett after this wedding?"