Movie Quote: "You're crazy." – "No, too sane for my own good." From The Best Years of Our Lives.

Word Count: 496

The fog was back and she was running, running and, like before, she knew that if she could get to the end it would be all right. If she could only get to the end! Then everything would be all right and she would be able to breathe.

She felt large hands on her shoulders, shaking her, trying to wake her and she cried out again. The mist was blocking it off. She didn't know which way to turn and the hands shook her more fiercely. She heard a voice in her ear and her heart skipped in her chest.

"Scarlett, wake up!"

Somehow she was pulled toward the voice with strong arms going around her. The voice stayed at her ear, comforting to her tears and calming. She sobbed and clung to the body the voice belonged to, burying her head in the shoulder before waking with a start.

Darkness greeted her and she instinctively reached beside her. As usual, nothing but the sheets was there and she knew why there were already tears streaking her face.

No! It had seemed so real…

For once she wished for the old dreams back, the old dreams with the fog covering her and her lungs ready to burst from running. The dreams that had tormented her for so long would be her saviors if they would come again.

More importantly than the dreams, though, she wished for his arms around her again, his comforting words in her ear to ease away her tears.

"It's just a dream. Scarlett, honey, wake up."

"Oh, Rhett, I ran through the mist and I – I couldn't find it!"

"It's only a dream, my scared little girl. When you get used to being safe and comfortable, it'll go away."

"You're crazy," she accused, burying her head in his shoulder.

Rhett chuckled. "No, too sane for my own good."

At the time, she hadn't realized the significance of his words, but now she felt anything but safe or comfortable. Safe and comfortable had been when Rhett's arms were around her and now they were gone. He was back in Charleston, and she had no idea of what he could be doing.

Suppose he had really forgotten about her, that he really didn't love her? Scarlett shook her head. She wouldn't – couldn't believe that.

Scarlett pulled the covers over her head and buried her head in the pillow again. She wished for the old nightmares because he always saved her from them, for his cigar glowing in the darkness of night, for his voice telling old blockade stories, even his laugh whenever she would ask an ignorant question of when she got into a temper.

She missed everything about him, the easy grace he had (even on a man so large), his rough hands on her arms, his kisses that always left her dizzy. She missed him and unlike when she was a girl, crying into her pillow wasn't going to get him back.