Note: I finally dragged myself online to post a new chapter  it's summer now so hopefully I will be able to write a whole lot more. And perhaps be inspired since my friend is going to Atlanta (And try to not be too jealous of him) Thanks once again, a million times over for the heartfelt reviews!

To: PrincessAlica, tennisplayerx33, xXxlilnoel09xXx, Thwarted Moony, SapphireIris, EugeniaVictoria, Tuduvant, Joyce LaKee, seeleysangel, djeanne, FancySara and CaptScarlett.

You all are amazing for sticking with me and this story.

Part 25

"At least we have the wine," Scarlett murmured hours later. Her voice sounded thick and far. Rhett was too quiet and her eyes widened; it had been a while since she had heard him speak. They were still under the hull of the boat and had been for what seemed like eternity.

"Rhett!" she harshly said, kicking at him and her nails digging into his arms. She knew he could hardly feel it. But a breath of relief, almost a cry emerged from her lips as his eyes opened, glazed but still very much alive. His breathing was jerky, or was that hers?

She cupped his face with one hand as she brought the bottle of wine to his mouth and poured some in his parted lips. She would give him the whole bottle if he needed it. For once, beside the night Sherman had come to Atlanta, she wasn't thinking of herself. Her eyes were on Rhett, narrowed and she wouldn't relent.

He sighed. "We'll be at shore soon, the tide isn't as strong."

She took a swig and coughed.

"We can't drink it all, Scarlett," he said.

Her eyes were staring into his; they were so close. His arms were about her and his head occasionally lulling against her shoulder as if he were a child, holding onto her with slackening arms.

"You mustn't sleep either," he added. "Sing me Old Kentucky Home."

Her voice echoed in the hull as she sang softly, beyond caring how she sounded, hardly knowing what she was doing... Rhett was listening and she saw he was fighting to remain awake. He was worried about her. She could see it in the grave lines of his face. A desire to tell him that she wanted him, loved him, needed him, and was sorry for all she had ever done came over her. But she mustn't give into hysteria.

Then she began to sing Peg in a low backed car. She thought of pa and the good old days. When it was warm and not so freezing. She would give anything to be at Tara. Drawing strength from the song but saw Rhett was becoming unresponsive and his strong arms were slackening.

"Rhett."

No response. She raised her hand and slapped him across the face with all the strength she had that his head hit the hull. His eyes instantly sprang to life and he glared, his eyes shooting fire but a slight smile came to his pale lips after a moment.

"I bet you enjoyed that," he said with a laugh.

Her eyes blazed. "I'll pay you back Rhett Butler for scaring me so!"

The wine had given her some warmth as she took one last sip. She coughed again and grimaced. "Sing for me, Rhett," she demanded, anything to keep him awake. "I always did like your voice..."

He sang and for a moment she forgot the cold or that they could die. She could pretend the cold wasn't gripping their bodies and that Rhett didn't look so pale. But his voice grew thicker and lowers as he stopped singing.

"Rhett!" She kicked at him and nearly went under the surface but despite his weakening body, he quickly caught her and brought her hard against his chest. Her face was on the crook of his neck, her arms wrapping around him. She couldn't smell the comforting scent of brandy and cigars on him. There was only smell frigid air all around her.

"So cold..." she murmured, sagging against him. Wanting to give up, she was tired of fighting, of the cold. Never had she felt so cold.

"Damn you for being a quitter, Scarlett," Rhett said, his voice sounding a little stronger. "I should have let Sherman get you."

Fire leapt to her eyes. "I'm not a quitter," she said between gritted teeth. "If you weren't hurt I would-"

"Scarlett! I feel a change in the current, I swear it. We're near shore. You can't give up. God, I feel like a newborn colt...Come on darling, kick me if you want, just don't leave me."

She glared at him. "Quit talking so! You'll loose your strength."

He nodded slowly. "Take a deep breath," he suddenly said and his hand clamped over her mouth and nose. He dove under the water with her struggling body. They surfaced outside the hull. She could see land!

"Almost there, my darling," he said. "Hold on."

He swam towards shore, holding her against his side. But his strokes slowed and he seemed to loose his stamina to fight against the waves. Scarlett held him tighter. She placed most of his weight on her and woodenly kicked her legs. Rhett was heavy and his body threatened to make her sink. But she wouldn't release him. Just how she made it to the shore, she would never know.

"That's it, my pet," he softly said. "You saved both our hides."

The last wave pushed them into the shallow water and another gust sent her and Rhett gasping and floundering on the wet sand. She still held him, her arms shaking from his weight. And she gasped when she realized how bad his wound was. There was a deep gash on his left leg and it began bleeding profusely.

"My God!"

She felt her stomach turn. She nearly retched but held in her bile. Now wasn't the time to be squeamish. She quickly placed her hands on his wound, pressing her hands against it. His legs were numb that he only slightly cringed. He was staring up at her and a ragged sigh came from his lips.

"The saltwater cleaned the wound out," he faintly said. "But you must bind up the wound and use some of the wine. We still have-it..."

She nodded but then her eyes widened. She had never been a good nurse. She knew hardly anything of binding wounds. What little she had known, she had pushed far from her mind. His blood was on her hands and she paled, her eyes meeting his.

"H-how do I bind it?"

"Tear a strip of your skirt off," he said.

She did and it ripped, none too easily, revealing her thigh. But she could no longer feel the cold wind as she placed pressure back on his leg. She reached into the knapsack and pulled out the bottle. Opening it with her teeth she poured some on the wound. Rhett showed no reaction on his face.

She knew the suggestive position she was in as she moved between Rhett's legs and lifted up his left one so that it was bent and easier for her to tie the material tightly around it, to stop the bleeding. He had seemed to loose so much that her heart dropped and she felt the tears rolling down her cheeks as she bound the wound tightly that he grimaced.

Scooting back, she moved to the other side of him, bringing the wine with her. Shirt clinging to his body and he was shivering. She could hear the chattering of his teeth. His eyes seemed feverish for an instant. She wanted to lie face down and cry but she forced herself to meet his gaze.

"Help will come... You must stay awake, Rhett."

"God-I can't remember being so damn helpless and cold," he murmured, his eyes closing for an instant and opened.

"You can't die!" she cried, grabbing his arm tightly and staring down at him with a look of horror and anger. "I won't let you!"

"I don't think I will leave this world so soon," he said with a laugh.

"How can you laugh?"

"It's either that or go into shock," he seriously said. His eyes met hers and they appeared dull. "Hold me, Scarlett," he whispered. "Just for awhile to keep us warm."

She lowered her body alongside his as his arms came around her. They were as close as they could possibly be. There still seemed heat and strength left in his body. She had wanted him to hold her but not like this. She sniveled and finally cried in gasping sobs.

He stroked her hair wearily. "You have been brave, my pet. God, I thought I had lost you. Don't cry, it's all over my courageous girl."

This made her cry all the more.

"Oh Rhett! I thought that you were dead. I couldn't bear it. To loose more people that I love. You can laugh at me all you want but I do!"

Rhett didn't reply but his hand continued to stroke her hair almost lazily. She didn't know how long they lay there in each other's arms. She heard him lightly speaking but it made no sense to her. It was lightly drizzling now and she knew what she had to do.

"I'll have to go get help," she numbly said after a moment.

He nodded and released her as she rose up to her knees beside him. She stared at him for the longest time, and bit her lip, shivering and wiping away her tears and the rain from her face.

"Yes," he said. "But first we must go to a cottage and start a fire to regain our strength. You are in no condition to scour the beach yet."

He drew himself up slowly and staggered a little. Scarlett was on her feet in an instant and was surprised that her legs didn't collapse beneath her. But she had no time to show weakness or give into the stinging pain of her flesh from the scrapes of rock and shells. She placed his arm over her shoulder and let him lean against her.

She staggered a little under his weight but regained her balance as they slowly made their way away from the shore. Rhett told her where to go and soon they were going through the thickets and far from any place she knew.

A cottage stood in front of them, solitarily. It looked inadequate to stand against the wind but she trusted Rhett's judgment. It had stood for generations and many a shipwreck survivor had seeked refuge in places such as this.

She pushed hard against the door with difficulty while supporting Rhett's weight. They stumbled inside.

"Take me to the chair," he said and she nodded as they made their way to the worn and faded chair. Rhett grimaced as he sat down and she looked at his leg. The bleeding had stopped but the fabric was soaked through with blood.

She forced herself to look around. There was a fireplace and rummaging around, she found wood sitting it in. Only after a few minutes with effort, the fire was lit. Then she turned back to Rhett.

"We have to get you out of your wet clothes." Walking to his seated form that was not erect but slouched and his head was bent. She kneeled in front of him, her hands moving to the buttons but his hand restrained her.

"I am capable of undressing," he said. "You must get out of those wet clothes too."

Her legs felt like jelly as she rose to her feet. Looking around she saw there was only one quilt. She grabbed it and spared a glance at Rhett undressing slowly. His whole body appeared cold and he was shivering. The fair light played across his perfect body and skin. Even with her muddled mind she felt her mouth go dry as she approached him and handed him the quilt.

She turned away to compose herself.

"Where do I go for help?"

"A couples miles north is Fort Moultrie," he said.

She lingered for an instant and took a deep breath. Somehow her shivering had ceased and her fear. Only the fear remained though for him. She had never seen Rhett look so worn, even after Bonnie had died, he had drunk like a fish but never had he looked so pale and hunched. There had been fire in him. And if she should return and he was dead...

Her green eyes searched his. In a swift instant she was across the room and knelt in front of him, grabbing him arm and forcing him to look at her.

"Promise me, Rhett Butler you won't give up. Promise me that you won't-" she let out a shaky breath, "die."

The fire played against his eyes. They were unreadable. But for an instant he raised his thumb to her cheek and lightly caressed it. He quickly pulled away his hand with a sigh.

"I promise," he gravely said, "But hurry, my pet. I'm as tired as hell and the wine isn't holding up..."

She rose to her feet, bereft, tired and cold. But she knew what she had to do. With one last glance she was out of the cabin and racing through the rain and away from the warm cottage and away from Rhett.

XXX

"Exhaustion," said the army doctor that Scarlett had brought back from Fort Moultrie, "and exposure. It's a miracle that your husband isn't dead, Mrs. Butler or yourself. His circulation is all but shut down from that wound and if we don't hurry gangrene might set in. Wrap the blankets around him and let's get him to the fort."

Scarlett spared a glance at Rhett, her heart in her eyes. She wanted to sob. She was near exhaustion and she had come back with the old goat of a doctor to find Rhett in a deep sleep.

She kneeled down, numbly, tears on her face as she swaddled Rhett with the blanket's careful to not let them fall away from his body. A large, beefy man stooped and picked up Rhett. Which would have been no easy task for Rhett's size. But the man picked him up and she began to follow him, until the doctor stopped her.

"Here now. Let the sergeant take him to the Fort. You are in no condition yourself."

"I am fine," she said stubbornly. "Where my husband goes, I am going too."

A cry almost escaped her lips, when she saw Rhett's eyes open for an instant and he seemed dazed. Then his eyes rolled back and the doctor closed the eyelids with his fingers.

"Better hurry," the doctor said, "He's slipping away…"

TBC