Dr. Morris came to check on his patient that evening. Scarlett asked several questions and then insisted on staying as he removed the bandages to check the burns underneath. As the doctor revealed the wounds, Scarlett's stomach turned at the devastation to Rhett's body. She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat as she watched the doctor tend to her husband. He replaced the soiled bandages with clean ones, disposing of the old ones.

The he pulled a bottle out of his bag and set it on the nightstand. "He's sleeping lighter now, which means he's starting to come out of it," the doctor told her. "When he does wake, he will be in a lot of pain. Give him a spoonful of the laudanum to help. It will make him sleepy too, which is probably for the best."

"Will he…do you think…is he going to …die?" Scarlett asked fearfully.

The doctor looked at her sympathetically. She was a pretty young thing, he mused. It wouldn't be fair for her to be forever burdened with a scarred, miserable man; and that's what Rhett Butler would be if he survived. "It's a miracle he hasn't died already," the doctor commented. "But since he hasn't, I think he might survive if we can keep infection at bay. However, he will wish he died, I assure you. The burns will leave him horribly scarred and his recovery will be very painful."

"Rhett is very strong…very stubborn. He won't let a few scars stop him," Scarlett declared.

"Perhaps," the doctor said warily. "In any case, he is still early in the healing. Only time will tell."

"Thank you, Doctor Morris. Is there anything I can do to help?"

The doctor left some bandages with her and explained how to remove them, clean the area, and rebandage him. "Be very careful when the bandages are off. Be sure your hands are clean and nothing touches the area except clean bandages."

The doctor continued his daily visits but Scarlett took over as Rhett's caregiver. She watched him closely for signs that he was waking and gave him the prescribed dosage of laudanum if he seemed to be conscious. She changed his bandages several times each day, careful to keep the area clean and dry. As the days passed, the burned tissue began to toughen and the oozing liquids decreased. While she couldn't recognize anything like normal skin covering the area, new tissue slowly began to form. His lesser burns were healing as well and Scarlett was pleased to see that some of them were slowly beginning to look almost like normal skin. The places were still red and abused looking, but she hoped that over time, they would disappear.

Over the next few days he slept fitfully, mumbling incoherently and crying out in pain so forlornly that it tore at Scarlett's heart. He seemed so broken, defeated. It nearly broke Scarlett's spirit to see her strong willed, always sharp-witted husband in such a state. After a couple of days of relative calm, his nightmares began. Scarlett sat mutely, holding his hand as he relived the fire over and over again in his mind. And then he began to call out to her.

"Scarlett…the fire, Scarlett. No…this way…" Inside Rhett's mind, he was indeed reliving the fire but instead of Celeste the prostitute, he was trying to save Scarlett. Mentally it was Scarlett that was in that room with him and Scarlett that he put out of the window and now he was looking for her. Why wouldn't she come to him? He remembered the burning wood falling on him, the pain that followed, and again he called for her. The pain was so great but he needed to find her, see that she had survived. He wanted Scarlett. "Scarlett," he called again.

Scarlett held his hand and talked to him constantly, telling him she was there. "I'm here Rhett. I'm right here. Feel my hand? I'm right here, my darling." But he didn't seem to hear. She managed to put the spoon of laudanum to his lips and get most of it in his mouth and finally he calmed down, drifting back into oblivion.

Other times he would call out for her in his restlessness, wanting her. She listened, trying to make sense of his mumbling as he thrashed in the bed. Inside his mind, he was telling her of his feelings, his jealousy over Ashley Wilkes, his grief over Bonnie, his guilt over the baby they'd lost, and his love for her, the love he had tried to deny. But she understood none of it, his ramblings being so softly spoken that they were barely audible or yelled in broken syllables that were unintelligible. Still, she sat next to his bed trying to provide comfort. Rhett was not aware of her presence, only his need for her. If his conscious self had been unable to admit that, his subconscious was painfully aware of it; he loved her and needed her in his life.

One afternoon the heat and Scarlett's fatigue overtook her and she dozed off in the chair. Rhett slowly slipped into consciousnesses and looked around his room, his eyes settling on Scarlett. His hand began to explore his bandages as he tried to fight through his confusion and understand what had happened to him. He tried to lift his right hand but the effort sent shards of pain through him and he decided it wasn't worth the effort. His voice was quiet from disuse as he whispered her name, "Scarlett?"

He watched as she continued to sleep. She looks very tired, he thought. But what are we doing here? Why are we in my old room in Charleston? And then the memory of his leaving Atlanta seeped into his mind. But if I left, why is she here? And what happened to me?" Again he tried to wake her. "Scarlett…please…"

Deep inside her mind, she heard him and began to shake off the fog of sleep. Her eyes opened, meeting his. "Rhett, you're awake. You're not supposed to be …oh my…" She began to reach for the bottle and as he followed her motion, he realized what she planned.

"Wait…Scarlett." His voice sounded weak and lifeless to her ears. She turned to look at him again. "But the doctor said…"

"In a few minutes then," he pleaded. "I want to…need to know. What happened?" He studied her features for clues about her presence.

"You were in a fire, Rhett."

"A fire? I don't remember…" Flashes of memory played in his head but there was nothing he could grasp. It was more of a sensation than a true memory…but he could feel the flames and knew she was telling him the truth. "The bandages…" he said as his eyes looked to his arm and chest.

"They cover the worst of your burns. Some of them are healing quite nicely but those are the worst. They will take more time." Scarlett watched for his reaction but he seemed to not have one. He just lay there quietly, absorbing the information. "Where?"

"Where what, Rhett?"

"The burns…where are they?"

"Well, you can see the bandages on your arm and chest. There are some on your leg too…and your face. The burns on your arm are the worst."

Again, he seemed to not react but lay there stoically. "I saw men who were burned during the war…it wasn't pretty. You've been here…seen the wounds?"

"Yes, Rhett. I've seen them. I change your bandages several times a day, although not as often now as in the beginning."

"Why?"

"The doctor said to keep the area clean and dry, so I…"

"No….why you? What are you doing here? I left, remember?"

Scarlett sighed deeply and he watched as color drained from her face. She looked so tired and he had just made it worse. Regret stirred deep within but he had to know. Why was she here?

"I remember. But your mother telegraphed…you weren't expected to live, Rhett. She thought I should be here. And…when I saw you, I just had to fight for you since you weren't able to fight for yourself."

"But why? Why not just let me…die?" He had seen enough in the war; he knew what was ahead for him. The old Rhett Butler was dead. The new one was forever scarred and deformed…an ugly shell of the previous man. He knew the outer scarring would change his inner self as well. He had seen it happen to the best of men and he certainly wasn't the best of men.

"No!" she said stubbornly raising a small chuckle from him. After all these years and everything that had happened between them, she was still the spoiled defiant child he had fallen in love with. "I love you Rhett; I couldn't let you die…"

There it was; she was still insisting that she loved him even thought they both knew she didn't. "Scarlett, please…no more lies. I know where your heart lies, he said in a raspy tone. "You needn't remain here out of some … wifely obligation. I'll explain to my mother that you require your freedom."

"But I don't," she said bitterly. "I want to be here with you Rhett. I chose to come here, I chose to stay and I won't leave. I won't" she said defiantly. "Whether you choose to believe me or not, I love you Rhett Butler. And I intend to remain. If you want me to leave, then you must get well enough to make me leave."

Outwardly he seemed irritated, but inwardly Rhett was relieved that she was so determined to stay. He wanted it to be true; he wanted her to love him, to stay with him. But he knew it wouldn't last. She was beautiful and used to being surrounded by handsome men. Soon she would grow tired of him and leave. Consequently, he needed to protect himself and not let her get too close. But as he studied her expression and saw the exhaustion that threatened to overtake her, his mind began to play tricks on him. What if she does love me? Could it be true? But even if it is, she won't stay…not with what I'll look like…she deserves better than a monster…

Again she held up the spoon with laudanum. This time he accepted it. He was hurting and her presence was confusing; he thought he knew how his life would unfold but here she was. He was too tired and in too much pain to think it all through; the oblivion provided by the medicine was welcome. Quietly he drifted back into oblivion.

GWTWGWTWGWTWGWTWGWTWGWTWGWTW

You all are so generous with your reviews; this is becoming my favorite fandom! I hope this chapter meets with expectations. Your comments are so supportive and complimentary that I am taking my time and trying to put extra thought into the story. Please continue to let me know how I am doing.