Author's Note: See I wasn't too cruel, here it is finals week and I didn't even make you wait that long for this chapter!

Ella clung to him. Her small face was buried in his chest as his face was buried in her hair. Her small hands clutched at the starched white material of his shirt, knotting the fabric underneath her small fists. Neither spoke, words could not convey the anguish that they were feeling, although Ella did not quite understand the full ramifications of what was happening or what had happened. Scarlett's children were now all that he had, all that he would ever have. His heart constricted painfully, and he wondered for a moment if it would burst. The pain was so intense in his heart that he wondered if losing Scarlett would indeed kill him. This was like losing Bonnie all over again, and yet it was magnified somehow. He hadn't imagine pain worse than that, and yet now he was learning that there was pain even more intense than Bonnie's death. He cradled Ella against him – Scarlett's daughter and Bonnie's sister, for holding her was all that he had to hold on to.

When he heard the sound of the door opening again, he rose his head wearily. The doctor was standing there, waiting for him to notice him. His face was grim, and there were blood stains on the apron that he wore when he was working. "Captain Butler, we need to talk."

The words hung between them, benign and yet menacing at the same time. There seemed no words so potentially ominous as those. Nothing good ever came when those words were spoken. He nodded after slowly rising to his feet with Ella standing tall beside him. He felt like an old man, his bones groaning in protest from the movement.

"I'll take you in there in a moment, but first I need to discuss the situation with you." He motioned towards Ella, "and perhaps we can go into another room to discuss things." Obviously he was trying to spare Ella a little longer from the inevitable pain. But did it really matter? Soon enough she would have to face the fact that her mother was gone forever. Rhett gently encouraged Ella to go downstairs for breakfast, for surely Wade would be awake soon. He had developed quite the appetite like his mother. And Rhett knew that he needed to tell them together. He would have to sit down and explain that their mother was dead. He needed them to be together for that. They would need each other. Ella obeyed and although she kept glancing backwards, she did not protest as she left his side.

With Ella taken care for the moment, Rhett walked slowly down the thickly carpeted hallway, leading Dr. Meade in a hazy cloud of grief to the sitting room that sat next to Scarlett's bedroom. Neither of their feet made a sound. He glanced at the door separating him from Scarlett furtively, and then sat down heavily in one of the chairs.

"I understand that you want to go in there immediately, but I must tell you, that there were some complications. She lost a great deal of blood. I had once suggested that she should have another child to help you after you lost Bonnie, perhaps I was wrong. I'm afraid that the damage from the miscarriage was much more serious than I realized."

Rhett sat silently listening, cursing himself, cradling his head in his hands, knowing that it was his fault that she was dead and that their child was dead. Just like with Bonnie, there was no one to blame other than himself. His head buzzed and ached, far worse than any hang over that he had ever faced. He could hear faint noises through the walls, but he knew that he was only imaging the sounds that he wanted to hear. What he wouldn't give for Scarlett to be resting in their bed with their child in her arms.

"Unfortunately, I doubt that she will ever be able to conceive again." The doctor continued.

Rhett raised his head and looked at the doctor in confusion. She was dead. Obviously she would never conceive again. What was the fool saying this for? He was getting ready to plan a funeral, and the man was saying something so obvious? What kind of an idiot was he?

"She will be unable to resume conjugal activities for quite some time, and even then with caution. Her recovery from this birth will be much longer than with her other children. And the child is small, although not as small as Ella was, if I recall correctly. But both should be fine."

Rhett shook his head. "But they died." His voice was flat and emotionless and his eyes looked hollow and empty.

The doctor paused, looking at Rhett in confusion, "Good God, man. They aren't dead. What a fool thing to think. Mother and child are both weaker than I would prefer, but they aren't dead. Scarlett is unconscious and has been since the end of the delivery. But in God's name, who told you that they were?"

For a moment he stood there, not believing the words that were being spoken. The grief was clearing, and suddenly Rhett realized that he had taken something as simple as an 'I'm sorry' to believe that Scarlett and the baby had died. He could blame the servant, or perhaps his dreams, or the fear in Scarlett's eyes, but the truth was that he had taken such simple words and contorted them into heartbreak and ruin. With red-rimmed eyes he stared at the doctor, hearing again the faint sounds from the room next door which announced the presence of his wife and child. "May I go see them?" How odd he thought to ask to go into a room in his own house, to go to see his wife. But he was still cloaked in such a heavy shadow of fear that he no longer seemed himself.

"I'll take you in there right now, I just wanted to be certain that you understood that it was a difficult labor. I had no idea that you had gotten the idea that she had died," the doctor said, rising from the chair and leading Rhett towards Scarlett.

His heart was in his throat as he walked into their bedroom. The curtains of the four poster bed, obscured her from his sight. The bed linens had been changed, there was still a conspicuous pile stained with blood beside the door. But as he moved into the room, he no longer cared about anything besides her. His heart leapt at the sight of her. She was as pale as alabaster, her dark hair spilling wildly across the pillow. He held his breath watching her, waiting for her chest to rise. It seemed as if time was suspended as he waited, and then her chest rose and fell, and he felt a tear spring to his eye.

Perhaps, perhaps there really was a God. Had He really heard his prayers? But if nothing else, she was breathing, and for a moment that was such an amazing thought that it filled his heart to swelling. It frightened him that she was so pale. She had been full of life after Bonnie's birth, demanding and imperious as always. The only other times he had seen her like this, her life had been on the line. He was reminded of the accident on the stairs and the subsequent miscarriage, when her life had clung so precariously in the balance. And then he remembered another image, of her pale, her hair in dark tangles after they escaped from certain death in Charleston. She looked as fragile now, as she had then.

And then he heard a faint whimper, though not from the direction of Scarlett. He moved quietly, moving towards the cradle that was on the other side of the bed. The sound was no stronger than that of a newborn kitten. And now that he had seen with his own eyes that Scarlett was sleeping, he was drawn to those soft baby sounds. He moved beside the cradle, and with extreme gentleness he gingerly picked up the child. The small child fit easily in his large hands. The nurse had bundled the baby tightly, and only the face was visible. He moved to one of the chairs that Scarlett had insisted that the bedroom needed, and sat down staring at the child in absolute fascination. The baby opened its eyes, and Rhett was startled by the child's appearance. The baby's eyes were a brilliant blue and her rosebud lips puckered slightly. The child looked so much like Bonnie, that a sob sounded low in his throat. With his free hand he softly brushed the baby's cheek with his thumb. "Oh, Thank God! You are perfect, and Daddy loves you so very much."

He had almost forgotten that Dr. Meade was there until, his voice broke through the silence. "Congratulations, Captain Butler. You have a daughter." Dr. Meade gathered his supplies and started to leave. "If you need anything, just call for me."

Rhett rose from the chair, holding his daughter carefully, as if she was made of fragile porcelain. She was so much like Scarlett, but her hair was darker more like his own. Her skin was still red and splotchy as babies often look after birth. He moved towards the bed, towards Scarlett, singing a soft lullaby and crooning to the tiny bundle in his arms. She squirmed in his arms, working one of her arms free. As he moved to readjust the blanket, she captured one of his fingers in her tiny fist. That flame of love burst forth in his chest consuming him completely, with a pure white hot fire of love. And he could have sworn that his daughter was staring into his eyes, before her eyelashes began fluttering down to rest gently on her cheek. And he loved her completely.

There came a faint knocking at the bedroom which broke Rhett from his reverie. He rose and carefully made his way to the door, still cradling his sleeping daughter in his arms. When he opened the door he was startled to find Ella standing before him, with tears spilling down her face.

For a moment he was stunned into silence, internally berating himself for so quickly forgetting the pain that he had shared with his other daughter. How quickly he had forgotten. And so with a cheerful voice he ushered Ella into the room, cautioning her to be quiet since her mother was still resting. Ella went to her mother's side and peered at her, and brushed her hand against her mother's. While he sat back down and watched. When Ella finally looked up, he motioned for her to come and sit with him. She did so with a timid smile and then at his invitation climbed onto his lap. "Oh, she's so red, Uncle Rhett. And she's so little bitty." She said breathlessly.

He smiled. "You once were so small. In fact I have heard that you were smaller than she is. I didn't meet you until you were a little older. I think you were an entire month old before we met," he added with a reminiscent smile.

"I wish Mother would wake up. I was so scared that she had died. You were scared to, weren't you Uncle Rhett. But I prayed. Auntie always said that we could pray and it would help things, so I did. And Mother and my little sister are going to be all right, aren't they?"

"Dr. Meade thinks so. And I know that you are going to be a wonderful big sister to her."

"I will Uncle Rhett, I swear that I will!" She exclaimed a little to eagerly, apparently startling the baby who began to whimper. "I'm sorry, Uncle Rhett. I didn't mean to wake her up." Ella jumped up and cried, trying to be quieter than she had been.

"It's all right, Ella. We just need to be more careful next time."

"Where's my baby?" Came a paper thin voice from the bed.

Rhett rose from the chair and went to Scarlett's side. "Here she is," he offered bending over and placing the baby in Scarlett's arms. "Here is our perfect baby girl." He said with eyes shining with pride.

And Scarlett stared down at her daughter, feeling a surge of motherly love that she had never felt before. "We've done it Rhett. We really have." She said with a weak smile.

And he dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I love you." He said softly, and finally he felt like everything was going to be all right.