Author's Notes: It's amazing when you are writing something like this how much you end up pulling out of yourself. Thankfully I have never had to go through losing a child of my own. But Melanie's speech to Rhett is in large part what I thought of saying when my best friend lost her son when he was 2 days old. I very much am Melanie in this chapter. And this was probably the hardest chapter I have ever written. I think after post the next chapter, I will have to go back in time and do a happy moment for Rhett. This is all too dark.

So I dedicate this chapter to Missy, who lost her child, and to Jaxon who although I only held him once, he'll be in my heart forever.

Three Nights

The world took on an indistinct shimmering quality, as if nothing was real and all was subjective. Grief and alcohol swallowed him its shadowy haze that seemed to permeate everything. Her death had debilitated him to a ghost himself, his fears and guilt shimmering under the surface like submerged rock threatening to rip the hull open and expose him.

When he first brought her home from the undertakers, they had carried the coffin into the parlor. But he wouldn't stand for it. How could he leave her down there in that box? His darling didn't need to be down there, she needed to be in the one place that she felt the safest. He gently lifted her from the box into his arms. She had felt so cold. Then he carried her up to his room and lay her gently on her bed. And the room was eerily silent.

This was so different from when he had brought her home from their trip. She had been so delighted to return to her mother, although he had been dreading it for his unpardonable actions of that night. But Bonnie had squirmed so that he could not keep his hold on her, so that he had had no choice but to set her down. He could still so clearly picture her face, alight with excitement and anticipation of seeing mother and Ella and Wade. And that poor kitten, what had happened to the kitten? Where had the poor thing gone?

Scarlett interrupted his musings with her protestation of his decision. "What are you doing?" She seemed confused and thrown off as she came into the room. Someone must have informed her of his actions.

His eyes were glazed over as he told her in a flat voice, he had nothing left to fight for except for Bonnie, "I am laying Bonnie in her bed."

"She needs to be downstairs in the parlor. She needs to be in her coffin." There was a fear in Scarlett's eyes. She was looking at him oddly, as if he was a crazy man to be protecting his daughter like this.

"She belongs in my room, not in a coffin." He told her coldly. Then he turned to Mammy and ordered that she insure that no one move Bonnie while he was gone as he fled to a place where he could wallow in his grief, and allow himself to be engulfed by the welcoming tides of spirits. And they swallowed him wholly. He welcomed the relief of this break from reality, and for a moment he could convince himself into believing that she was only sleeping, and the last several hours had been nothing but a nightmare, a fabrication of his tortured mind. Bonnie was not gone. Bonnie could not be gone. It could not be true. And if for a moment he considered that he was hiding from the truth, he would pour another glass to wipe the thought from his mind.

But the illusion could only last so long, because he still had to stay with her throughout the night. He had to be there to shake her from her nightmares and wipe away the tears. For God sake, Scarlett was of no use as a mother. Bonnie, his darling Bonnie needed him. She was counting on him, and he would not disappoint her.

Finally Belle cut him off, "Rhett, darling. Why don't you go spend time with her while you still can." She advised him gently.

He nodded at her with red-rimmed eyes. "Bonnie needs me." He rose unsteadily from the table; the world was spinning much too fast. He didn't even know how he had made it back to the house, the ghastly monstrosity where nothing but horror happened. Bonnie needed him. She needed her daddy. She always needed her daddy. He was her best sweetheart.

He burst into the house, flinging the doors open wide like a mad man. His eyes blood-shot and wild in the dark depths. He ran up the stairs to his room, and shoved the door open, desperate to be at her side again. The room was shrouded in darkness, and the windows were shuttered allowing no light to enter. He shook his head. "Bring lights. Bring lots of lights. And, by God you keep them burning. And don't draw shades and shutters. Don't you know my Bonnie's afraid of the dark? It's too dark in here," he yelled. "Bonnie's afraid of the dark. Don't you know she's afraid of the dark. She'll be terrified. How could you leave her in the dark when you know she's so scared of it?"

Mammy went rushing off as fast as her legs would carry her for candles. He opened all of the shutters, allowing all of the available light into the room. Scarlett stood there staring at him in dismay. Then finally Mammy was back with the dozen candles that she had gathered. He took them from her and angrily yelled, "Get!"

He slammed the door and sat beside Bonnie, stroking her ebony curls. She still looked so beautiful. He knelt his head and stared into nothingness, the night gathering around him, holding him hostage. He began to stare at her, trying to convince himself that the pallor was an illusion, a mere trick of the light. The alcohol was wearing off and he couldn't deny that the lack of shadowing on her face was caused by something natural. He stroked her cool skin with his hand, and it terrified him.

Suddenly there pounding on the door, pounding and a sobbing on the other side, "Let me see my baby! Let me in you bastard! Let me see my daughter!" Scarlett screamed, her hands pounding against the wood.

"I'm never going to let you see her again. I'm not letting you take her." He horsely rasped, Scarlett didn't seem to understand fear. She wasn't afraid of anything. She would let Bonnie stay in the dark alone. Didn't she understand?

"Let me in! Let me in!" Her voice growing shriller and shriller as the pounding grew weaker and weaker.

"Get away from the door, or I will rip you to shreds." He threatened.

"I need to see her. Let me see her! Let me in! Please!" There was a brokenness to her voice, a hollowness that that he understood.

"Rhett, we have to talk about the funeral." She pleaded.

"There will be no funeral. I'm not putting my baby in the ground, in the dark. She's afraid of the dark. How can you be so heartless? I'm not letting you in here to do that to her. I won't allow it."

He went silent and refused to open the door, and finally she left.

Later Mammy came to the door offering food, but he had no desire for food when Bonnie would never eat again. He wanted nothing, nothing but for Bonnie to wake and laugh at him for being so silly to think that he thought that she was dead.

He turned away everyone who came to the door, refusing to listen to anything anyone wanted to say. As far he was concerned there was no need for a funeral. He needed Bonnie and she needed him. Why would he put her in the dark, when she was so afraid of it? His brave little Bonnie, he couldn't do that to her.

All through the night, he sat watching her-- watching as the candle light flickered and danced. He thought of the life she would have had -- should have had. He thought of every memory and every moment that they had had together. And he stared at her lifeless form, willing for her to awaken.

If he really looked at her, he could not pretend in his rational mind that she was only asleep. And so he tried to hide from his mind. He tried to think of anything other than death, anything other than that. He thought of the time together two years prior on the trip they took together. He had been a different man then. He was angry at Scarlett, but he still had loved her so completely, so totally. Even his love for Bonnie had been distinct from the obsession it had become. She had been so charming, so utterly guileless, that she had won over every person they had encountered.

He could still remember how her adoration of him had sparkled in her eyes, like stars in the night sky. It had been such a precious time, such a treasured memory in his heart. He remembered sitting for a portrait, how Bonnie had struggled to sit completely still. She wanted to be up and moving, instead of carefully posed on an uncomfortable stool.

But the pictures had been striking. The camera had captured her life and vibrancy in its frame, enabling all the world to see her beauty. At least he still had the picture. And he stared at it, where it sat in prominence on his dresser. Carefully positioned so that it obscured the picture beside it that he hadn't yet had the heart to remove. He couldn't see it well because of Bonnie's picture, but he didn't need to. It was etched into his heart, the portrait of himself and Scarlett on the honeymoon. It had been Bonnie's favorite thing to look at, mesmerized by her parents beauty. But he would get ride of them, he couldn't stand to look at them any longer.

When the sun rose, and he was certain that she wouldn't be afraid, he left the room to return to Belle's to wash these images and thoughts from his mind. He drank glass after glass of whatever anyone would pour for him or he could find. The table in front of him was wet with the flow of his tears. People came to him and offered him their condolences, but he didn't even see them, couldn't have recognized if he had. He was so consumed by his grief that he was oblivious to everything else. He thought of no one or anything other than his pain.

When the sun began to fade, he returned home to a house full of people all clamoring for his attention. He had no patience for them; his thoughts were only for Bonnie.

And she was still there, absolutely silent, absolutely still. He went and sat beside her bed and stared at his daughter's face, before rising and lighting the lanterns and the many candles. Once this task was complete, he returned to his seat began thinking again of the life that he had imagined that she would have: her first hunt, her wedding, her first child. It all blurred together into a montage of a life that would never be lived.

He sat up through the night watching her, ignoring the world around him, as if she needed him to be there to soothe away her nightmares. But he was the one living a nightmare.

He left at sunrise to immerse himself in more alcohol, more numbness to wipe away the grief and sadness. He needed to purge his mind of all of the plans that he had dreamed, hide from this hell of his own making until it was time to return to her side.

Scarlett met him in the upstairs hallway as he was coming in. She looked like a ghost walking. She slipped inside the room with him, before he had a chance to stop her. Her voice shook, but she continued with her mission. "The funeral had been set for tomorrow morning."

He turned on her with a sudden blaze of malice. His eyes blazed wildly, "Do that, and I will kill you tomorrow."

"Rhett, we don't have choice." Her voice softened. "She has to be buried. I don't want her to be dead, but she is. There is nothing we can do to change that. Keeping here in this room doesn't change what happened." She looked at him, imploring him with her eyes for him to let Bonnie go.

"How heartless can you be? She's afraid of the dark. I can't put her in the dark. I can't leave her there." Rhett sounded like a terrified child.

"Rhett, she is dead. Won't you be reasonable?" Scarlett tried.

"I can't let her go. Maybe its easier for you because you didn't really love her, but I can't just put her in a hole in the ground." He told her.

"You're a fine one to take on like this, after killing her to please your damned pride." She shot back at him.

"Have you no mercy? Have you no heart? How can you just turn your back on her like this? What kind of person can let their child go like this?" He asked with tears in his eyes.

She looked at him with anger clouding everything. "No, apparently not, and I haven't got my child either. I'm tired of the way that you have been acting since she died. You're causing a scandal in town. You are drunk all of the time, and if you don't think that I know where you have been spending your days, then you are fool. I know that you have been at Belle Watling's."

"Yes, that's where I've been, and you don't need to act so concerned. I know that you don't give a damn about me. A whore house is haven of refuge after this house of hell. And Belle has one of the world's kindest hearts, even if she is a madam. I can't say the same about you. She doesn't throw it in my face that I killed my child." He said angrily.

"You are comparing me to your whore." Scarlett accused.

He laughed a hollow brittle laugh. "She's a damn better woman than you, the insult would be to her, not you."

"Have you gone crazy, completely mad? Our daughter is dead. She is dead. There is no changing it, or escaping from the fact. We have to bury her. The funeral is tomorrow. I don't care whether you are there, but it is going to happen." Scarlett's eyes bored holes into him.

"Then I will kill you." He said it simply, coldly, no feeling in the statement at all.

"I don't care." There was a tinge of hysteria in her voice as she said it. "She is my child too. I'm only doing what I must. I wish I had spent more time with her, given her more attention. But I didn't. It's too late now. And her funeral is in the morning." Scarlett, pale and very shaken, stalked out of the room, telling Mammy that the funeral to proceed as scheduled.

Immediately after Scarlett left, Mammy entered the room. "Mist' Rhett, Ah/s come ter confess." He swung around at the sound of her voice.

"Get!" He bellowed, past the point of reason.

"Please, suh, Mist' Rhett, let me tell you. It's 'bout ter kill me. It wuz me as sceered Lil Miss of de dahk." Mammy confessed bowing her head down as if she was afraid that he was going to hit her.

He didn't say anything in response, and she continued. "Ah din' mean no hahm. But, Mist' Rhett, dat chile din' have no caution an' she wuzn' sceered of nuthin'. An' she wuz allus gittin' outer baid affer eve'ybody sleep an runnin' roun' de house barefoot. An' it worrit me, kase Ah 'fraid she hu't herseff. So Ah tells her dar's ghos'es an' buggerboos in de dahk."

His face changed in that moment, he seemed to calm down. He approached her and put his hand on her arm to let her know that he understood. "She was so brave, wasn't she? Except for the dark, she wasn't scared of anything."

Mammy began crying, tears streaming from her eyes. "Now,Mammy don't you carry on so. I'm glad that you told me. I know that you loved Bonnie, and because you love her, it doesn't matter. It's what is in the heart that matters."

A small amount of reason returned to him at that moment. Mammy understood. Mammy knew how afraid of the dark Bonnie was. She loved Bonnie. She wouldn't want Bonnie to be afraid.

"Mist Rhett, suh, what 'bout de fune'l?" She asked.

He turned on her like a crazy man. His eyes glittered with anger and betrayal. "Good God! I thought you'd understand even if nobody else did! Do you think I'm going to put my child away in the dark when she so scared of it? Right now, I can hear the way she used to scream when she woke up in the dark I'm not going to have her scared!" He pushed Mammy out the door of the room. "Get the hell out of here!"

Rhett locked the door behind her. He lit all of the lights, and sat vigil at her side. He tried to think of pleasant memories. He tried to make himself think of a funeral, but every time the thought crossed him mind, he could here her shrieks ringing in his ears. He sat his head cradled in his hands until a soft knocking sounded at the door. "Please let me in, Captain Butler. It's Mrs. Wilkes. I want to see Bonnie."

He would allow her in. She could see Bonnie. He knew that she cared. And so he swung the door open and looked down at her. Taking her by the arm, he led her inside the room, shutting the door behind them. He was unsteady on his feet, and he had exceeded his limits with the alcohol. Everything was fuzzy around the edges, like staring through an irregular window pane.

Once the door was closed, Melanie wrapped her thin arms around him. "Oh, Captain Butler, I am so sorry." Tears sparkled on her eyelashes as he clung to her as a broken man. They stood that way for several minutes, as her compassion seemed to seep into him, pulling down the barriers of his resistance and solitude. And most terrifying of all, it made him open his eyes and see the reality that he had been hiding from.

He looked at her, his eyes struggling to focus through the haze of the alcohol. "I killed her." He whispered brokenly. I killed my daughter."

"Hush, Captain Butler, you did not kill her. You musn't say such things." Melanie's words were the words he longed to hear, had to hear. He couldn't live with the agony he was feeling.

"But I did Mrs. Wilkes. I did kill her. Scarlett's right, I killed my own daughter. I am a murderer."

"Captain Butler, you would never harm a hair on that child's head." Melanie whispered.

"No, you don't understand. I told that she was too young to raise the bar. I told her that Mr. Butler's legs weren't long enough. But she begged me to let her, and you know I didn't have the heart to say no. I never could tell her no." He confessed in a horrified whisper. "They don't understand, they don't know what I've done. Or if they do, they can't understand how it tears at my heart, how I am terrified of hurting her even more."

"Captain Butler, you loved her. You had no intention of allowing her to be harmed. If you had realized the danger, you would have moved heaven and earth to stop her. She wouldn't be angry at you. She loved you too much. But please, you must eat something."

Rhett nodded at her, and she rose quickly, poking her head out the door, instructing Mammy, "Bring me a pot of coffee, quickly, and some sandwiches."

They were silent for a very long time before Rhett finally said, "I don't deserve to eat. My Bonnie can't eat. I've taken everything from her that I meant to give her."

"Now Captain Butler, Bonnie loved you so. She couldn't stand for you to be torturing yourself like this."

There was a knock at the door, and Melanie swiftly rose and opened the door and took the tray. She set it down on the night stand, and Rhett stared at the food. He finally picked one of the sandwiches up at Melanie's coaxing and began nibbling at it around the corners. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast that morning of the accident. It felt strange to eat again, his stomach was churning and yet at the same time, suddenly ravenous. Melanie continued talking to him in soft tones as he ate. "Captain Butler, I know that Scarlett said things that she shouldn't have said, and I imagine you also said things that should be taken back. But you are both grieving for your child. You were both terrified and angry and lashing out, as if that might make the pain subside. But it didn't. I know you loved her. I know you loved her, possibly more than any father has ever loved a child. And Scarlett loved her too."

Rhett shook his head at this notion. "No, she didn't."

"Oh, Captain Butler, you know that this is only the grief speaking. Do you think that this is how Bonnie would want to be remembered?" Melanie cast a glance at the stiff little form lying on the bed. "Bonnie should be remembered as she was in life. You have to remember how she looked when you would walk into a room. Think about how she used to kiss your cheek. Captain Butler, remember how much you loved her."

Rhett stared at Melanie, tears welling in his eyes once more.

"I'm sorry. I loved her too. And I don't want her to be gone. I can't even begin to understand how much pain you are feeling. I can't imagine how badly I would feel if I were to lose Beau." Melanie looked at her hands, more tears shimmering as they fell from her eyes. "But keeping her in here, will not bring her back. She isn't afraid of the dark anymore. Where she is, there is no dark." Melanie's face lit from inside as she spoke of the after life, as if a beam of heavenly light had fallen upon her, breaking through the roof and ceiling to shine upon an angel sent to live among mortals. "She isn't afraid, and she isn't hurting. She is even more happy than she was here. You have nothing to fear. You aren't hurting her more, you are only releasing her." Melanie's voice grew softer, yet. "I have no right to tell you this. I have never lost a child, but you loved her so completely here, that she never knew anything but love. Every day of her life, she was loved without reserve. I wish that could be said of all children. She never knew what it was like to be disliked or outcast or lonely. She never saw war or hate or sadness. You gave your child a life that every parent wishes to give their child. No child could have been loved more. And she loved all of you back in return. She would hate to see the way you are hurting, although I know that doesn't stop it. But Captain Butler, you need to rest, for Bonnie's her memory. You haven't slept in days, and you need to be strong for Bonnie's sake, and for Wade and Ella and Scarlett. They still need you. And Bonnie would want you to take care of them."

Rhett sighed softly, as acceptance began creeping in. "The funeral can proceed." His voice was no louder than a whisper. His eyes began to droop, even as he spoke. He was defeated, and he knew that he could no longer hide from the fact that she was completely gone to him.

"Go to sleep, Captain Butler." Melanie said in a soothing voice.

He shook his head. "Someone has to stay with her. She can't be alone. Please understand." Rhett pleaded.

"I'll sit up with her, if you will only lay down. I will stay here all night by her side."

Rhett nodded slowly, as if each movement was slowed down by some external force. Then he answered by lowering his body wearily to the bed and removing his boots and dropping them with a soft thud. He took one last look at Bonnie,ever so pale and tranquil. She wasn't afraid any longer. Then he closed his exhausted eyes.

He heard her softly speaking to someone outside the door that he had agreed, and then the blackness over took him, enveloping him like a blanket.