Written by Niara Huore
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.

"Come on," Jack said, pulling Rose up the deck of the Titanic. "Come on!" It was very late at night; actually, it was very early in the morning of April 15, 1912. The stars were at their brightest, the sea was as smooth and reflective as a polished mirror, and it would have been a beautiful night to take a relaxed stroll around the ship. Would have, because currently half of the unsinkable ship was underwater and the deck was inclined to a steep angle as a result. And relaxed does not describe the atmosphere of this night at all. Screams and shrieks rent the chilly air, and everyone was battling the steep slant of the slippery deck to get as far away as possible from the impending water that was claiming more and more of the Titanic every minute. Those who chose not to, who saw that an endeavor at this would be in vain, were jumping overboard and trying to stay afloat.

But Jack would have no part in this. He knew the icy water could kill a person in fifteen minutes. So he led Rose up the deck to delay this sure death as long as possible.

He finally grasped the railing at the stern and pulled Rose so she could hold on, too. She held onto him as he looked frantically around.

The stern was rising very quickly now, and the priest leading despairing passengers in prayer spoke more quickly; people ran, screaming, to get further up on the ship. Rose was being jostled by the crowd, all straining to get hold of the railing. She cried out and tightened her grip on Jack. Turning to look behind her, she saw a woman, perhaps five or ten years older than she, struggling to remain upright against the powerful force of gravity.

Rose turned back to Jack and gazed up at him. "Jack," she recalled sorrowfully, "this is where we first met."

Jack stared at her for a second, then pulled her closer to kiss her forehead fervently. That was painful to remember, but he couldn’t forget his love for her—not now, not ever.

The deck was quite aloft now, and people left and right were losing their grips on whatever they could find to hold onto and sliding down unstoppably to their dooms. Some near the stern started climbing over the railing to jump off…and died almost instantly upon impact with either the freezing water or the massive propellers.

"Hold on real tight!" Jack cried, moving Rose up in front of him to hang on for dear life. And suddenly, the ship went dark.

Screams of terror pierced the night.

A panicked second passed, and then deafening, horrific cracks added to the noise. The ship is breaking in half, Rose realized in horror.

The stern plunged down as the two pieces separated, and Jack and Rose, eyes wide in horror, clung to the railing, their only chance for survival. And just as their part of the ship leveled out, the bow submerged, pulling the stern into the air again.

Jack climbed over the railing, face determined, and when he had gotten over, he told Rose, "Give me your hand! I’ll pull you over!" When she cried, "I can’t!", he repeated firmly, "‘C’mon! Give me your hand!"

Though terrified, Rose did, and met Jack’s outstretched hand with a frenzied grasp. She began to pull herself over.

"I’ve got you. I won’t let go. C’mon! I’ve got you!"

The stern was now completely vertical. "What’s happening, Jack?"

"I don’t know," was his breathless reply. "I don’t know! Hold on!" he cried, feeling her nearly slip as the ship came to a harrowing stop, standing straight up in the water.

"Jack!" she shrieked, but managed to right herself.

"That was close!"

The two now watched with disbelief the unsettling scene of people all around falling to their deaths. Rose saw the woman from earlier was panting beneath her, struggling to keep her grasp on the railing. But her strength failed, and she, too, fell. And now the ship began to sink, retaining its perpendicular position but sliding into the sea.

Jack braced himself, and saw Rose tense beside him. "This is it!" The water rushed to them at an unsettling pace.

"Oh, my God, Jack!" Rose cried, staring in horror at the rapidly approaching water under her. "Oh, God! Oh, God!"

"Hold on!"

"Oh, God, oh…"

Jack tightened his grip on her. "The ship is gonna suck us down," he said bluntly. "Take a deep breath when I say." Now perhaps forty feet separated them from the ocean. "Kick for the surface and keep kicking. Do not let go of my hand!" A stronger note entered his voice. "We’re gonna make it, Rose! Trust me!"

"I trust you!" But the water twenty feet away made it difficult to find a shred of hope within her.

It seemed only a heartbeat had passed when there was only five feet left, and Jack shouted, "Ready? Ready? Now!" Rose drew in as much air as possible, and was not fully finished when the icy water touched her.

And then they were suddenly submerged in the coldest water they had ever felt. Adrenaline pumped through Jack; he foundered from the abrupt shock for a second, and then realized which way was up, and tried to pull Rose with him. But her hand was jerked away as an undercurrent knocked into her. Jack hesitated a moment, tried to find her hand, and then turned and hurried to the surface.

Still underwater, Rose was suddenly alone, her terror intensified twofold. Somehow she found the strength to kick her way up to the surface, and when she emerged, she encountered the most awful sound of sobbing, screaming, and dying. It was bitterly cold, and the stillness was a thing of the past as the water frothed madly with flailing bodies and the aftermath of the enormous ship’s sinking. "Jack!" she shouted, searching desperately around for his familiar face. "Jack! Jack!" But the other passengers’ screams drowned her lone voice out. She spun around in the water, and swam, panting hard. "Jack!" she tried again, panic rising in her throat. "Jack!"

But suddenly, someone behind her grabbed hold of her and pushed her back into the water. Unbelievably, this man would doom another soul just to keep himself afloat! Rose bobbed to the surface, and the coward plunged her back in again. When she could find air again, she screamed with all her might. "Jack! Jack!"

Fortunately, this time he heard her cry and rushed over to her. "Rose! Get off her!" he raged at the man who was still trying to stay afloat by way of Rose. "Get off her!" The guy didn’t answer, and Jack threw several punches at him, knocking him off her finally. "Rose!"

"Jack!"

Breathing hard, Jack instructed, "Swim, Rose! I need you to swim!"

And so she did, with him leading her in a direction that meant nothing to her. All she knew was that Jack was here.

"Keep swimming!"

Rose realized with a thrill of horror that she couldn’t feel her feet any longer. "It’s so cold!" she moaned.

"Swim, Rose! C’mon! Here!" he said, swimming on. "Keep swimming! C’mon!" He stopped now, and Rose saw a door floating before him. "Here, get on it," he told her, helping her up on it. "Get on top!" She struggled onto it, gasping for breath. "C’mon, Rose." Now he began to pull himself on, but the door overturned, and Rose screamed, falling back into the water. Jack hurried to right the door, and pushed her back on. Numbness, physical and mental, went through him. So this was it. No salvation for him. He was careful not to let this realization show on his face.

He came around to face Rose, propping himself up on the door. He shivered, eyes downcast, and whispered, "You’ll be all right now."

Shrill sounds of a whistle being blown nearby rent the air. "Return…the boats!" cried a man who was unmistakably an officer.

"The boats are coming back for us, Rose. Hold on just a bit longer." Jack’s face changed now, hope shining through his despair as he gazed up at Rose. Little did she know how forced it was, but it still brought faith to her. "They had to r-row away from the suction, but now they’ll be coming back."

"Return the boats!"

They were silent for a moment, with nothing to listen to but the still-incessant cries of those around them. "Come back!" "For God’s sake, help us!" "Help us!" "Help us!"

*****

Precious moments dragged by, and after five minutes, the sound of the dying was being replaced with the sound of the dead--a silence that was worse than anything ever beheld.

"It’s getting quiet," Rose whispered. Jack was shivering so hard she could hardly bear to look at him.

"It’s j-just gonna t-take them a c-couple of minutes to g-get the boats organized," Jack said, in what he hoped she’d take as an optimistic voice. "I don’t know about you, b-but I int-t-tend to write a-a s-s-strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all this."

Rose was silent for a moment. "I love you, Jack," she said finally.

"Don’t you do that," Jack said severely. "Don’t you say your good-byes. Not yet. Do you understand me?"

"I’m so cold."

"Listen, Rose…you’re going to get out of here. You’re gonna go on…and you’re gonna make lots of babies and you’re gonna watch them grow…and you’re gonna die an old—an old lady, warm in her bed. Not here. Not this night, not like this. Do you understand me?"

"I can’t feel my body," she sobbed, her eyes welling up.

"Do you?"

Tears rolling down her face, she nodded, and he kissed her hand. He lowered himself back down. "Never let go," he whispered. "Never let go." His eyes closed.

*****

The cold was a deadly enigma Rose couldn’t find a solution to. She could feel it seeping into every part of her body, freezing and cutting off her attempts at motion, deadening her limbs. She could feel it, though her nerves were the numbest they had ever been. Not even on the coldest day had it been this cold—then, at least, she still had awareness of her body, could think warm thoughts until she could get inside to a roaring fire and comforting wine. But this time, there was no going in. And she might as well just be a pair of floating eyeballs hovering over this door in the middle of the icy Atlantic, because she certainly couldn’t sense any region of her body, nor make any part move but to shiver violently. She closed her eyes, trembling, always trembling, and always aware of this ruinous frigidity. Damn this…wretched calamity…damn it all to hell…I mustn’t surrender…Jack and I must survive…Jack!

Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at Jack, this man who had saved her when she couldn’t even hope for help, who taught her how to love and loved her back, who gave her a reason to live. His eyes were closed as he held himself just barely out of the lethal water, trembling intensely but still breathing. Her heart broke in this instant, and she realized what an enormous risk he was taking, in what were perhaps vain hopes to keep her alive. He was sacrificing himself for her…and this made tears well up anew in her eyes, for she’d never known such devotion, such loyalty, and she knew she’d be so alone if he didn’t make it. And he had been unmoving for several moments.

"Jack," Rose whispered, forcing herself to move, and wincing when she heard but did not feel the cracking of her near-frozen joints. She shook him weakly, feebly, but she knew she had to try. "Jack…o-open your eyes…p-p-please…"

It took nerve-wrecking seconds for him to respond, but when he did, Rose sighed with immense relief. "I’m s-s-still h-here, Rose," he said, almost inaudibly, and opened his eyes halfway.

For a second, it was all Rose could do to stare deeply into his weary eyes. The emotions she saw there were a portentous amalgam—a panic that was dulled and calmed moved behind his tired eyes, yet there was also a joy whose origin was a mystery to Rose. There was strong love there, though, and absolute courage, even in the face of death. It was a look Rose was to remember for the rest of her life. "Thank God," she finally said, and painfully moved to kiss his forehead. She cupped his icy cheek with an equally frosty hand. "Th-they’re coming back. I kn-kn-know they will. We’ll be s-s-saved and w-we can go to S-santa Monica a-and r-ride the r-roller coaster and we can g-get married and—"

Jack burdensomely raised a hand to silence her lips, and nodded very slightly. His eyes now held wonder and reverence, and he whispered, "I saw it. It’s beautiful."

"What’s beautiful?" asked Rose in hushed tones. "You saw Santa Monica?"

"No. Heaven." He smiled, a faraway look in his eyes. "I was there. I saw the gates…but…but they didn’t let me in. Said there was one more thing I had to do on earth." His gaze became focused again, and he stared up at her. "Kiss me. One last time."

"Don’t you s-say that," Rose said, suddenly, fiercely, and held his head in her hands. Her eyes were ablaze. "You’re g-going to make it. And h-heaven help me, I will n-n-not let you g-go where I cannot follow!" Her voice weakened to a hoarse whisper, and Jack could see tears frozen on her face and stars reflected in her shining eyes. "You told me to never let go, Jack. Now don’t you let go."

"Rose…" Jack brought his face to hers and kissed her. When they came apart, he lowered himself back down and whispered, "My darling…"

"Is there anyone alive out there?" The call cracking through the silent night brought sudden hope to Rose, who started and strained herself to try to see their saviors. "Can anyone hear me?"

"We’re saved!" she rasped joyfully. "We’re saved!" But when she looked at Jack, his eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving. "What—no! Wake up!" She shook him. "Open your eyes!" She shook him harder.

"Is there anyone alive out there? Hello! Can anyone hear me?"

"Jack!" Rose now knew there was no time. She had to focus on getting him out of this water—and fast. "We’re over here!" she yelled, or at least tried to, for her voice was weak and forceless. They seemed to be heading away from them. "We’re over here!" she attempted again, but to no avail. "Come back!" Suddenly, she remembered someone earlier had been blowing a whistle, and that someone had been close by. Yes…he was right behind her, but she realized despairingly that there was no way she could reach it without leaving the door, and then, unconscious, Jack might slip into the murky depths. "Wake up!" She shook him as hard as she could, and then a miracle happened; this time, his eyes fluttered open. "I-I’ll be right back. Hold on," she whispered, getting off the door and into the water she was deadened to.

Jack’s face was blank and his voice emotionless. "W-what are y-you g-gonna…"

Rose was already halfway to the floating corpse, however, and did not answer. She found the whistle still clenched in the dead man’s mouth and wrenched it out.

"Can anyone hear me?" But the call was fading and unhopeful now, and Rose pressed the whistle to her lips and blew with all her might. And again, and again.

"Come about!" She saw the lifeboat turn around, and she knew they were saved.

*****

Five minutes later, both Jack and Rose were lying safely in the boat, wrapped in blankets and sipping some brandy that one of the crew had given them with a piteous glance. Jack was silent until far after sunrise, when the Carpathia finally appeared on the horizon. Then, and only then, he turned to Rose and whispered, "We made it. We made it."

*****

Onboard the Carpathia, the survivors were met by nothing but graciousness and generosity. The passengers were amazed that such a thing could happen to what was supposed to be the world’s safest ship, and gave most willingly whatever they could spare—toothbrushes, pajamas, blankets.

Some survivors were indoors, getting warm, but most were crowded on the deck, searching for lost loved ones and friends. Jack and Rose were sitting together on a collapsible chair when a wide-eyed stewardess came up to them suddenly, carrying two steaming mugs. She handed them to the couple, and told them in a thick Irish brogue, "You two are mighty lucky. Less than half the passengers were saved."

Jack, who had raised the mug to his lips, stopped and asked faintly, "Half?"

The stewardess nodded, squinting against the bright morning sunlight, and said, "We’re still just doing a count now, but that seems to be true. Mostly women and children, too, so lad, thank your lucky stars. Well, I must be off. Plenty others to attend to." She curtsied and bustled off into the crowd.

"Yeah…" Jack turned to Rose. "I am lucky…"

Rose smiled gently. "No, I am." She leaned over to him and kissed him softly. "So, what was heaven like?" she asked, taking a sip from her mug and recognizing the comforting flavor of coffee laced with brandy.

Jack grinned. "Nothing compared to right now."

"Oh, really?" She chuckled. "I suppose you’re right."

Jack was just about to kiss her when he saw Cal from over Rose’s shoulder. "No, wait," he said, nodding his head toward the unwelcome sight. "I changed my mind. He wouldn’t be here if this were heaven."

Rose turned her head slightly and saw her ex-fiancé out of the corner of her eye. "I see your point," she murmured, turning back to him and putting her mug down on the deck beside her. She kissed Jack and fell eagerly into his proffered arms. She rested her forehead against his chest and felt him stroking her hair. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent, the smell of paper and charcoal and love and familiarity.

He kissed the top of her head and kept his grip on her tight when she turned around in his arms, sitting in his lap. "My, my," she said. "Cal’s gone."

"We’ll all miss him," said Jack solemnly.

Rose giggled. "Why? We’re in heaven again!"

"True," Jack whispered, turning her around once more. "That’s true." They kissed again, but now Rose caught sight of something behind Jack, and came away prematurely. "Look!" she cried, standing and pointing to the starboard, to the near distance.

And there she was--Lady Liberty, in all her splendid grandness, holding aloft her torch in salute to the spent survivors who now gazed in awe at this resplendent first sight of land.

"Home." Jack looked wistful, joyful, and anxious all at the same time as he stood.

Rose saw this and teased, "Hey, don’t hurt yourself," while giving him a little punch. She stuck her hands in her pockets and sighed. "But it is good to be h—" Suddenly, her jaw dropped and her eyes went wide.

"What is it?" Jack asked, concerned.

She pulled something out of her pocket and held it up with trembling hands for him to see.

"The necklace!" he cried, seeing the huge blue diamond heart perched among dozens of other smaller, white diamonds. "We’re rich!"

Rose laughed as Jack picked her up and whirled her about in a circle, then kissed her. "Certainly one man’s trash is another’s treasure, but I can’t imagine how that got there. You know Cal."

"And I certainly wish I didn’t," Jack said with a wink. "But who cares how it got there? We’re gonna start our new life together in style."

"Excuse me, miss, sir," a deep male voice said suddenly from behind Rose. She turned to see a Carpathia officer standing next to them and holding a clipboard. She stuffed the necklace back in her pocket. "Could I please have your names? For the purpose of a survivor list, you see."

"Dawson," Rose replied unhesitatingly, smiling. "Jack and Rose."

The steward jotted down the names. "Thank you," he said curtly, and walked away.

Jack smiled and gestured to the starboard. "Well, Rose Dawson, welcome to America."

The End.

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