sluttylyingliar | Jess Givens - dated to April 20th

It's really, really not supposed to happen this way. Rachel has tried (sort of) to cut down the whining about this Wild Westcrap because it's about the happiest she's seen Raylan in pretty much ever but still. Birth? Without electricity? In the DESERT or whatever this is supposed to be? There are like, rattlesnakes around. And ghosts...maybe. And that clniic is not sterile and there aren't any modern drugs and these dresses are ridiculous and heavy and she can't breathe she's so pregnant.

Honestly, she should have known this would happen in the four seconds a day Raylan and Danny leave her by herself. Her back had been hurting all night but she had written it off to the lumpy mattress and somehow also forgot to mention the shooting pains that in restrospect were coming every ten minutes or so. She'd sent Raylan on with an assurance she was fine and all she needed was a soak in the bath (iron tub thing) and that she didn't need Danny to supervise. It's clear to her, now, that she should never be allowed to make the decisions every again because the second she stepped out of that tub, her water broke and it was very clear what was happening. And that is what happening very quickly.

She'd managed to scramble into one of those weird underdresses, not giving two shits how much the world was seeing and carefully made her way outside, her guts writhing and back not too painful to straigten. She squints against the bright, hot sun and pads barefoot out into the path.

"Help," she croaks out, arm firm around her belly like maybe she can catch the kid if he falls out right here in the dirt. "Shit, someone help!"

Another wave of pain sends her stumbling down to her knees, cursing loudly and creatively as she tries and fails not to panic. Two seconds in and she's already screwed this up.

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"I solemnly swear not to let your baby fall in the dirt," says Priestly. Even if it means flinging himself on his face between her legs like he's trying to slide headfirst into home base. Which he was never good at when forced to play sports in school, but the baby will be moving slower than a baseball, and he thinks he mixed up the rules of the sport in there somewhere too. "But we're going to get you to a doctor in time anyway, so just...keep your legs together and let's motor."

"Clearly someone should have told me that nine months ago," she mutters, leaning on him as they toddle up the path.

"Shit, I'm not ready for this. This isn't how it's supposed to go. I want a sterile environment and drugs and a shower and a baby monitor and electricity."

"Yeah, but think of the story you get to tell your kid when they get older," says Priestly. "It sucks right now, but it's special and stuff. And I totally know a guy who can rig a shower. I mean, I can't promise it'll be hot, though. Warm, maybe. We could do warm."

"Thanks, Priestly," she says, trying to be nicer for a moment. At least until the next contraction.

"God, this feels weird. I can feel my bones shifting around, I swear. This is really fucked up. "

"Well, I mean, think about the size of that thing," says Priestly. "You pretty much have to blow out your skeleton a little to get it through there. Plus, it's got all its own bones, right? So you've got these duelling skeletal structures in there. Cool."

By the end of his fucking horrible speech, she's going a little green, mouth agape as she stares up at him.

"Priestly," she spits out. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Oh my God, I'm going to pass out. What if my bones snap? What if I rip? That happens. That's a thing."

"I was trying to say that what you're feeling is normal!" he insists. Plus, the idea of duelling skeletons really is cool. She'll probably appreciate it more a few days from now. "Your bones aren't going to snap, that's totally not a thing."

"The ripping is," she mutters, squeezing his hand as she breathes through her next contraction.

"I didn't want the kid born like this," she admits, straightening back up as she starts walking again. "I wanted to be at home and I...I wanted to be married. I don't know why, but I did."

"Yeah, well, if you were at home and married, you wouldn't be having this baby," says Priestly, "and this baby is going to be awesome. It's going to be a badass island baby, which is about as close as you can get to superbaby without, you know, special powers. And maybe island babies do have special powers, we don't know that yet, right?"

"I don't want my baby having any goddamn powers," she mutters, even as that gets a weak smile. "Unless having a bunch of insane uncles is a superpower. You realize you're part of the back up system, right? Making sure the kid grows up halfway decent."

"If you think I'm qualified to help bring up a decent kid then we're in big trouble," he says, but he smiles back because little kids are terrifying but he's a excited too. Or at least he will be once he's assured he's not actually responsible for not breaking it. "Almost there. Looks like you're not going to pop before we arrive after all."

Jess Givens - dated to April 20th

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