Thanks for all the reviews last time. I remain all typed out. Every review means sooo much to me.
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Part Twenty-two
June 1873
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The Butlers let out new cries when Dr. Meade had finally arrived and declared their daughter gone.
Rhett had pulled Bonnie up into his arms and held her limp body.
Scarlett had cried even harder into her mammy's breast.
When Dr. Meade had told them Bonnie needed to be brought inside, Captain Butler had said his daughter needed to be in bed.
Scarlett had let out another pained cry.
Dr. Meade had questioned Wade and Ella's whereabouts and ordered them sent to Miss Melly's immediately, as they were on the same floor they would be bringing their sister's body to.
It seemed to take forever for them to get Bonnie into the house, waiting for the children to leave. As they followed after Rhett, cradling his daughter's body to his own.
They were all quiet, even Scarlett, for the silent procession.
It was the absence of her gut wrenching sobs that let Mammy feel the clench of Scarlett's body as they walked through the kitchen; she had thought Scarlett had been biting back another sob.
They were in the small bedroom when Scarlett let out a pained noise, different than before, a hand on her stomach.
Dr. Meade's frantic call for him pulled Rhett's attention away from his daughter on her bed. The bed that had once been his, but had become his daughter's when he moved back into Scarlett's room. The bed where he would hold her when her night terrors awoke the household and he would tear out of the bed he shared with Scarlett and go to their daughter. He would never return to the larger bed when she had a terror, he would hold Bonnie throughout the night.
He could see a different type of pain added to his wife's face, the way her hands held her stomach.
"We need to get her in bed," had been Dr. Meade's order to the stricken room.
Rhett didn't hesitate to sweep Scarlett into his arms and carry her out of the small room and into her larger one.
He was banished from the room the moment he placed his wife into her bed.
Ripping what remained of his soul from his body as he heard the fearful cries that emerged from her.
He was pulled away from her doorway and his ear on her door to look at their daughter, so still in her bed.
He could never stay with either for long. The other one kept pulling him back.
He was in the doorway of his daughter's room when he could hear Scarlett's loud cry of his name; it tore him away and back into the room he shared with his wife.
She was distraught again, only now the pain was also physical.
"We've got to get her calm Rhett," Dr. Meade ordered him.
He reacted automatically. He climbed into bed with his wife and gathered her close to him. Trying to soothe her from a terror she wouldn't awaken from.
Eventually, though she slept from the drugs Dr. Meade had forced upon her.
Time passed in silence. Dr. Meade sat with his hand on Scarlett's stomach, while Rhett held her. Mammy was collapsed in another chair not far from the bed. They all simply waited.
"Contractions appear to have stopped," Dr. Meade spoke after a very long time after he had removed his hand and replaced it with his stethoscope.
Rhett nodded silently.
"You have to keep her calm," Dr. Meade ordered him. "The baby won't survive this early."
He let out a pained noise, he couldn't keep in.
"I am sorry Rhett."
"How can I keep her calm when Bonnie-"
"You have to for the sake of this baby. If we don't keep Scarlett calm, we could lose all three."
He let out another pained cry and pulled his wife in closer. He had already lost her; he had killed their daughter.
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"I could sit with her," Melly offered. She had arrived not long after Scarlett's pains finally ceased.
"No," Rhett said continuing to hold his wife, she had called for him, he would stay with her. "If you could just send word to my mother about-"
"Of course," Melly quickly agreed. "I can start to take care-" she gave a nod, "I'll take care of everything."
"Thank you, Miss Melly."
She gave a nod, "I am so sorry again Captain Butler."
He nodded.
She walked over to Dr. Meade, who had settled himself into an armchair off to the side and pulled a book out of his satchel. "Can I get you anything Dr. Meade?"
"I'm fine, thank you, Melly. If you could have word sent to my wife about where I am, have her send word to those I was supposed to see today. I'd rather not leave Scarlett."
"Of course," she nodded.
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She slept for over four hours. It broke his heart when she awoke.
He'd moved to sitting next to her in the chair Dr. Meade had vacated.
He watched as she burrowed into her pillow, not quite willing to wake up. Eyes never opening beyond half mast.
He watched as her body suddenly froze, her eyes flew open and then closed tightly.
As it hit her, what she had awoken to.
"Scarlett," he said murmuring towards her, a hand on her shoulder, a hand on her hands. "Please try to stay calm."
"Stay calm?!" Her voice was anything, but calm. Her eyes opened, full of tears.
"Please Scarlett, for the baby," his hand spread wide over her stomach, she had such a petite frame that despite being five months pregnant, his hand still covered the width of her stomach.
"My baby is gone," she whimpered. "Bonnie is gone."
"I know," he said with his voice low, his head dropped towards hers, his other hand on the back of her head, he couldn't look her in the eye, but he needed to be close to her, "but you have to be strong for this baby. I know you can. You've been through so much. You can do it for this baby."
"Not this."
His eyes closed in pain. He had married her to protect her. He had married her to give her everything. He had married her so she wouldn't have to fight any longer.
He wondered if she had any idea what it had done to him the first day he'd realized she was drinking to get through her day, her marriage to Frank Kennedy, her life after the war.
He'd married her to save her.
He'd married her to heal those wounds.
Marriage to him had been the worst thing for her.
The cruelest loss.
The pain no one should be expected to live through.
He had cost her one child, he couldn't cost her two. He couldn't cost Scarlett her own life
"You have to, so you will," he let out a breath, "it's what you've always done."
"How?" her voice trembled.
"I don't know," he admitted honestly. "But it's what has to be done."
"I can't."
"Yes, you can," he promised her.
"Will you hold me?"
His eyes closed tightly at her timid voice. How scared must she be that she was asking the man who had caused her pain to hold her? "Of course." He separated their bodies, so he could stand and join her in bed.
She burrowed in tightly.
"You need to eat soon," he informed her with a hand lost in her hair.
"I'm not hungry."
"I know, but you still need to eat soon."
"Alright."
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The day and night passed in an endless blur of agony that he wished he could drown in a barrel of brandy.
He stayed in his clothing. The clothing he had worn as he lifted his daughter up to place her on her horse. The clothing he had worn as he carried her body inside.
It was filthy.
Covered in dirt from how he lay on the ground with Bonnie.
He couldn't bring himself to change.
To change out of the clothing he had put on while their daughter was still alive.
The clothing he had worn while he took breakfast with her.
The clothing he had worn as he'd swung her up into his arms.
If he changed then she was gone. It would be a new day. A day without Bonnie.
Scarlett was in a nightgown and had been since he'd returned to her room. Dr. Meade had likely taken scissors to the dress she'd worn, most certainly the corset.
Dr. Meade eventually left the room, returning at intervals to check on them, even spending the night in a guest room.
Rhett knew the doctor would leave in the morning. The new day, the day without Bonnie.
The day after Bonnie.
How life would always be now.
They would be expected to continue to live.
They would have to figure out how to live.
He would have to bathe.
He would have to change.
He wasn't quite sure how to do the simplest tasks.
He certainly wasn't sure how to continue to live.
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"We need to bathe," they were the simple words he spoke to his wife after Dr. Meade examined her told them to call for him immediately if her pains returned. After they'd eaten yet another meal that tasted like dust. The doctor had given them leave to bring Scarlett to the tub, likely because he realized her bedding desperately needed to be changed as well.
"I don't want to," she informed him.
"We need to," was his simple response. He had held her for nearly a day. It had already been a hot day and the added weight and heat of his body. The dirt he was covered in. Her hair was matted from the sweat, the hours spent in bed and his fingers in it.
"Don't leave."
"I won't. I'll run your water."
He looked down at her after he stood. She looked horrified and all alone. They hadn't left each other, but to relieve themselves. Without thought, he lifted her into his arms and carried her towards the bathroom. He sat her in the chair by her thoroughly modern tub before he started to fill the tub with hot water thanks to the small heater. He went to wash his face in the sink as it filled and out of nowhere as he rinsed off the soap he had used to remove the layer of grime on his face he caught Scarlett looking at him. He dried his face with a towel.
"I've never seen that much hair on your face."
A hand ran along his stubble. He often didn't want to leave Scarlett in the mornings, so he delayed getting up as long as possible. He'd taken to shaving until after he and Bonnie finished their practice since he had to change for the day anyway, so he hadn't shaved yesterday. "No, I suppose you haven't."
She let out a soft laugh, "It doesn't look horrible." Her head tilted slightly, "However did I go 12 years without seeing you with a beard?"
"I am not quite sure," his lips lifted up in a smile.
"However did you manage to shave while Atlanta was falling?"
"My dear, a man must retain some mystery."
She smiled for a moment longer and then it fell. They returned to what they were parents who had lost their precious child.
"Into the tub Scarlett," he said after a moment of silence.
"You need a bath far more than I do," she informed him, truly taking in the sight of him for the first time in nearly 24 hours.
"I will bathe after you," he informed her.
Her face took on another concerned expression, fear that he would leave her for the other bathroom where there would still be hot water.
"I will use your water when you are done."
"I will refrain from adding my rose oil."
"Thank you, my dear." He wanted his lips to twitch up in a smile again. He wondered how it could be that he'd just had the urge to smile twice when everything was gone.
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It was oddly soothing to wash Scarlett's hair. To work the soap along her scalp, to run his finger through her hair, to use a pitcher to rinse it out.
For Scarlett though without a task, she was forced to be reflective. As she pulled her head up after the final rinse, she pulled her knees in close to her body. "What do we do?" She asked quietly.
"We bury our daughter, after that I'm not quite sure."
"I want her buried at Tara," her voice was quiet, but firm.
"You're in no condition to travel to Tara."
"I want Bonnie buried there, above my mother."
"You mean alongside."
"I want my mother to hold her. She so preferred to be carried."
He bit back the sob in his throat.
"I want it to be a Catholic service and then I want you to bury her with my parents."
"You don't believe in religion," he reminded his wife.
"I can't imagine I ever will now, but they did and they have to watch over her now."
"You don't want her in Atlanta?"
"At Tara, she'll always have family to watch over her, to tend her grave and make sure it's covered in the most beautiful flowers. Here it'll be forgotten after us, she'll be forgotten."
His eyes closed, "I'll bury her at Tara."
"Good," she nodded once.
"Lean forward, let me wash your back."
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He helped Scarlett stand in the tub, meaning to give her a towel and help her out immediately.
Instead, he was struck by her belly. He hadn't been able to lay a hand on his since the afternoon before. Scarlett's hand had barely left it as they lay in bed.
There was a disloyalty in it for him as Bonnie lay dead only rooms away. He didn't want other children, he wanted Bonnie.
The baby inside his wife was innocent and deserving of life. So precious in its own right.
Scarlett didn't ask for a towel, she didn't ask for help out. She simply took his hand and lay it where the baby moved within her.
His eyes closed and he fought back the tears, he could physically feel the shudder of emotion that coursed through him. He forced it away after a moment, "Let's get you dry," he said as he wrapped the towel around her.
Thanks for reading.
AN: So if anyone was shocked by what happened.
A reminder of how the story was presented from the start.
For those that voted it was phrased as: Scarlett in "The Broken Light of Day" apologizes to Rhett for not having more children while he could have still bear to love them.
Summary: He refused to risk his heart again after Bonnie, but what if he had already given his heart to another. What if their baby had lived and they continued on as they had, in their polite disillusionment. Staircase Fic.
I actually anticipated those first twenty parts as being under 10. The characters actually managed to change and grow significantly more than I anticipated. I definitely thought about messaging a few of you as I realized that you didn't catch on to the fact that Bonnie would still be dying as she did in the book.