Titanic - Alternate Ending

"Jack. Jack. There's a boat. Jack." Rose shook Jack, with little strength. The cold was paralyzing her, making it hard for Rose to even breathe. "Jack, you were right, there's a boat. Jack." When she came to the realization that Jack was dead, that that's why he wasn't moving or answering her, she burst into tears. He was in the cold too long, he died for her. Rose felt as if her heart had turned to ice, and she had completely frozen, the now tiny flame of life inside her snuffed out, damned to the same fate as the 1,500 others who were unable to make it into life boats. She wanted to give up, to let the freezing water take hold of her life completely. At least then she'd be with Jack. But no, she couldn't do that, not after Jack had made her promise.

*Flashback:

"I love you, Jack." Rose had mumbled.
"No...don't say your goodbyes, Rose. Don't you give up. Don't do it." He had pleaded.
"I'm so cold." Rose could barely think of anything but the freezing water. Jack was right, it did feel like a thousand knives stabbing her all over her body.
"You're going to get out of this...you're going to go on and you're going to make babies and watch them grow and you're going to die an old lady, warm in your bed. Not here...Not this night. Do you understand me?" Jack asked. He had to make sure that at least one of them survived.
"I can't feel my body." Rose had complained.
"Rose, listen to me. Winning that ticket was the best thing that ever happened to me. It brought me to you. And I'm thankful, Rose. I'm thankful. You must do me this honour...promise me you will survive...that you will never give up...no matter what happens...no matter how hopeless...promise me now, and never let go of that promise." He needed to hear her say it, that she would move on but never forget him. He knew he was going to die.
"I promise." She wondered why he wanted to her to promise, after all, he said the boat would be back for both of them.
"Never let go." He pleaded, again, desperately.
"I promise. I will never let go, Jack. I'll never let go." She reassured him.

Rose couldn't give up now, she had to fulfil her promise to Jack. With tears streaming down her face, she pried Jacks pasty, cold hand from her wrist. "I'll never let go, Jack," She whispered as she watched his face fade to darkness, as he was swallowed by the vast emptiness of the freezing Atlantic. She looked up and panicked, the life boat had passed her, and they couldn't hear her screams, hoarse and croaky. She spotted a silver whistle in the hand of a dead officer, and realizing it was her only option, she slowly slid into the Atlantic. Momentarily stunned by the sheer coldness, she thanked God for her life jacket. Oh God, Jack spent hours in this without even a lifejacket. Rose felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She'd practically killed Jack. It was then that she really contemplated giving up, promise or no promise. But instead of extinguishing her own life, she reached for the metallic whistle and blew, the shrill sound slicing through the unnatural, awful quiet. Rose blew on the whistle repeatedly, not stopping until the white wooden lifeboat was at her side and the men had hauled her over.

Rose was sitting in the bow of the boat, her legs curled up to her chest. She had multiple blankets wrapped around her, yet she still felt cold. It seemed as if she'd never be warm again. From the moment she got in the boat she hadn't stopped crying. She cried for the one thousand, five hundred passengers who's lives were taken from them in the most cruel, tragic way. She cried for Mr. Andrews, and Captain Smith who's souls rest at the bottom of the Atlantic, broken in two, just like the Titanic. She cried over Cal, because somehow she knew that bastard was still alive. People like him always survive. She cried over her mother, who didn't care about anyone but herself, not even her daughter. She even cried for the five other people who were rescued from the water, just like her, because surely they lost someone too. And they had to endure all the same things that she did. And finally she cried over Jack. Jack, the love of her life, the man she wanted marry and grow old with. She cried because she inadvertently killed him. She cried because she didn't know how she could live without him. And finally, she cried because she didn't want to live without him.

When the sky turned red and the sun started to rise above the horizon, Rose's tears started to ebb. Instead, she thought of the good memories that she had shared with Jack. She remembered the steerage party, the way her and Jack danced without knowing the steps, and the first beer that she'd had in ages. She remembered flying on the bow of Titanic, nervous at first, and then the feeling of flying hit her and she couldn't get enough of it. When they kissed at sunset, his hands moving through hers. She recalled the tinge of pink that stained his cheeks when he was drawing her in nothing but The Heart of The Ocean, and the way his elegant signature looked on the bottom right corner. It upset her that the drawing was lying somewhere at the bottom of the Atlantic, never going to see the light of day again. Rose was broken out of her reverie when someone cried "Look, a ship! We're saved!"

Rose looked up, and sure enough, the was a ship not too far away. Rose vaguely wondered how she'd get onto it, considering that she barely had enough strength to pull the blankets around her. As it came closer, she managed to make out the name Carpathia in bold lettering on the side. It wasn't as big as the Titanic, of course not, but it was big enough. Not many were saved from what she could tell, so surely there'd be enough room.

When Rose had been lifted onto the deck of Carpathia, she almost collapsed. She was so cold, too cold. One of the passengers rushed to her, frantically telling her that she needed to go to the infirmary. But Rose didn't care, she already knew that. What she cared about was the pain. Not the pain from the cold, but the pain from her heart. It felt as if it had been smashed into a million sharp pieces, each one tearing at her ribcage, trying to break free. Even after having medicine pushed down her throat, the pain didn't go away. It would never go away. It was as if Rose was put into a trance, hearing and seeing what was going on around her, but not really comprehending. She wouldn't eat or speak. The nurses and the doctor thought it was hypothermia, but it wasn't. Maybe she had hypothermia, but that wasn't the cause of this. No, Rose had a broken heart, and she didn't think she would ever get over it.

After the second day in the infirmary, Rose was let out. The doctor had determined that she would eventually be fine as long as she kept the blankets wrapped around her and drank the hot soup that was delivered to her. But Rose wouldn't do that. She wanted to die. At least then she'd be with Jack and the unbearable, crushing pain would stop. So Rose continued to refuse the food and the drinks that were brought to her. When a man approached her, she barely even registered him. "Can I take your name, please ma'am?"

"Dawson. Rose Dawson." She mumbled. She was going to take Jack's name eventually, they were going to get off the ship together, get married and start a family together. Not anymore. So why not take it now? It would keep Cal and her mother away from her for a while. They'd think Rose DeWitt Bukater died with the ship. That was fine with her. She was no longer Rose DeWitt Bukater anyways. But eventually they'd find out. They'd remember Jack's last name. Although Cal never actually called Jack by his name, Rose knew that he knew it. But hopefully it would give her enough time escape them.

On the third day aboard the Carpathia, the pain became unbearable. Cal had come looking for her, searching the decks of Steerage. That surprised her, she didn't think Cal would ever be caught dead here. The boy at the gate, who couldn't have been any older than Jack, had told Cal that he would't find any of his people here, but Cal just waved him off. He wandered the deck, careful to avoid touching anything, probably trying to avoid catching some sort of sickness he thought the people in Steerage carried with them. That seemed like something Cal would do. Rose slowly pulled the blanket over her head, careful not to catch his attention. The old blanket concealed her brilliant orange hair, a prominent feature of hers that was sure to give her away. When Cal finally disappeared through the first class gate, Rose breathed a heavy sigh of relief. But Cal had brought forth a wave of pain, only reminding her of how Jack had saved her from that torture and how she couldn't, wouldn't go on without him.

Rose made her way to the stern of Carpathia, careful to avoid being seen. She couldn't have anyone delay this, delay seeing him again. Carpathia was not nearly as grand or elaborate as Titanic, but it didn't matter to her. To her, ships were ships. As Rose climbed over the rail, it occurred to her that Jack wasn't there to save her again. But that was okay because she was going to see him soon anyways. She watched the churning sea below her, the waves beckoning her towards them, persuading her to jump. Rose closed her eyes and smiled for the first time in days. I'm coming Jack, she thought. Suddenly, a voice cut through her thoughts.

"You jump, I jump, remember Rose?" She knew that voice. She would never forget that voice. As her head whipped around, she almost lost her balance and fell into the depths of the Atlantic. Suddenly that didn't seem so appealing, for Jack, her lover, her saviour, the only person who truly understood her, was standing a mere 3 feet behind her.

"Jack?" She gasped. "Is that really you?"

"Yes, Rose. It really is me." Jack smiled and reached out. "Here, give me your hand."

Rose accepted his hand, and, once both her feet were on the deck, gripped Jack in a bone-crushing hug. She buried her face in his chest and cried. "I thought you were dead, Jack. I let you go. I watched your face disappear. I couldn't live without you. I didn't want to live without you." She hiccuped.

"It's okay now, Rose. I'm alive. I was saved too." Jack reassured her.

Jack was drifting in and out of consciousness. He was dying, and he knew it. His body wouldn't be able to take the cold much longer. He soon fell unconscious again, the light sliver of moonlight disappearing once more as his eyes slid shut.

When he came to again, he breathed in, but instead of gulping air back as he expected, he swallowed water. It woke him from his stupor instantaneously and he mustered the strength to give one powerful kick towards the surface, sending him back to the surface. When his head broke the surface, he was already calling her name. "Rose! Rose, where are you? Rose!"

Rose was gone. Either she was dead, her life consumed by the sea just like the others around him, or she was rescued. Jack hoped for the latter. If she had died, wouldn't she be floating near by? She was wearing a lifejacket…wasn't she? Jack's head hurt. He couldn't even remember whether or not Rose was wearing a life jacket. This was bad, the cold was not only killing him, but taking his memories too. He couldn't think straight. Jack desperately needed to get out of the treacherous Atlantic. When he spotted the broken door Rose had been lying on earlier, he didn't know whether to cry or to cheer. Cry because Rose wasn't on it, or cheer because he could finally escape the confines of the icy waters. After Jack had finally pulled himself up onto it, he focused on the gentle waves that lapped at the broken door, trying to stay awake.

Jack didn't even see the boat, or for that matter, hear the men calling out to the dead passengers and receiving no answer. What he did see, however, was the bright beam of a flash light in his eyes. He groaned, startling the men leaning over the wooden lifeboat. "Help me." Jack mumbled. The men, there were three of them, struggled to lift him from the icy water. His body was heavy with frost and Jack was of little help, he could barely keep his eyes open.

When he was finally pulled over the side and wrapped in blankets, he looked at the three men before him. The first one had blonde hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. First class, obviously. He, just like the other two, had a sad look on his face. Rightfully so, though. They'd just experienced countless deaths, and that was something he wouldn't wish upon anyone, not even Cal as much as he hated him. The second man had dark hair and dark eyes. He had soft features outlining his face and a small frame. He didn't look to be any older than Jack. The third man was older, maybe in his late forties. He had a stern face and deep green eyes. His brown hair was cut short, out of his eyes. Working class, probably. He wasn't rich, but he had enough money to survive.

"Rose." He mumbled. "Did you get Rose? Is she alive?" He mumbled. He couldn't take not knowing anymore. The men glanced at each other, pity prominent in their eyes, but that was enough. He knew the answer. It was unfair, really. How awful the world is. How is it that people like Rose die, but those like Cal survive? Jack hadn't actually seen Cal, but it didn't matter, he knew Cal survived. The bastard would've found some way to get on a boat. Jack so desperately wished he could trade his life for Rose's. She deserved to be here, safe and breathing. After finally escaping the confines of first class, she had her life torn for her grasp. She should be getting off in New York, and going to Santa Monica and riding a horse with one leg on either side. She should getting married and having babies. She should die warm in her bed, not here. God, definitely not here.

Jack pulled the blankets father around him and watched the sun rise from the horizon. It left the sky a beautiful red and orange, much like Rose's brilliant hair. He felt a tear slide down his cheek. He didn't stop it, instead he let more fall until his face was stained with salty tears streaming down his face. The last time he cried like this was when his parents died, when he lost loved ones. The same way he lost Rose. He was pulled from his guilt when one of the men who had saved him said "Oi, boys! We're saved! It's a ship!" Jack looked up and sure enough, there was a ship getting progressively closer. It looked to be fairly big, but not as large as the Titanic. Of course nothing could even compare to Titanic. It was the grandest ship ever made, supposedly unsinkable. And it would've been, if not for that cursed iceberg. As the ship closed in, Jack could make out the bolded letters of it's name, Carpathia, engraved in its hull. Once Carpathia came within reach, and the life boats were huddled around a ladder, Jack lifted his head again. He watched as people climbed the shaky latter, or, in some cases, were lifted out of the boats by a net, wrapped in blankets. It became obvious to Jack, as he watched people struggle up the ladder, that he was going to be lifted in a net. He had been in the icy water for far longer than any of the other passengers.

When Jack was safely on Carpathia, with his feet on solid ground, he collapsed, unable to hold his own weight. Once he pulled himself up, someone handed him tea and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. Jack could barely mumble a thank you. As he walked, he looked at the people surrounding him, scanning for Rose. But instead of her pretty red hair and sparkling eyes, he found hard stares and people looking at him, hoping he was dead because he was a man. There were few men that had survived, so when people realized that he wasn't their brother or their husband, and wished it wasn't him who survived, he didn't blame them. It felt wrong to survive when he didn't have anyone to live for. All those other men who perished in the sea that had family or friends waiting, hoping, and praying for them should be on board here, in his place.

Jack had made it to Steerage when he collapsed on the deck. The cold was finally swallowing him, it didn't matter the amount of blankets wrapped around him - warmth seemed an impossible concept, too far from his grasp. As his vision blurred and then became dark, he saw the dark outline of someone wrapping yet another blanket around him and helping him up.

When he awoke, Jack's eyes blurred, making everything seem fuzzy and out of focus. When his vision cleared he looked around and found himself in an infirmary. He was surrounded by cots, only big enough to hold one person. He saw doctors and nurses rushing about helping their patients. The amount of doctors and nurses was heavily outweighed by the amount of patients. They must be volunteers, he thought. No ship would have this many doctors. Jackshivered, despite the heat of the blankets. Once one of the nurses noticed he was awake, she scurried over to him, carrying a clip board. "Hi. I'm Helena. Thank goodness your awake. There have been far to many others who have not woken." She said. "You have hypothermia. And more than likely pneumonia. There is not much we can do for you other than keep you warm and continue to give you hot food and drinks. We have a shortage of supplies, I am afraid." Jack nodded politely at her. "Alright." He mumbled.

When Helena came back around, Jack asked for the survivors list. She sighed and left him to get the list. She must be tired of having watch people break down to the realization that the name they were looking for is not on the list. When she returned, she handed him the list and watched as he trailed his finger down the A's and the B's and then finally reach the D's. Jack skipped right over his name. He was the only Dawson left. His heart dropped when his finger reached DeWitt Bukater and the only name before it was Ruth. He let the list fall from his grasp and barely noticed when Helena took the list and gave him a sad frown along with a quiet apology. His heart had been cracked when he was pulled from the water without Rose anywhere near him. He knew, now that his fear was confirmed, that his heart shattered into a million tiny pieces and tossed out to sea, and that it was only a matter of time before the cracks expanded and broke into tiny sharp pieces that sliced open his heart.

Jack wanted out of the infirmary. He hated the smell and the look of it, but most of all, he hated the sounds. The entire time Jack had been awake he heard an endless string of crying and moaning and praying. It was torture for him to listen, for it served only to remind him of Rose. He missed her. He missed her so much it seemed that when she died, she took part of him with her down to the ocean floor. He would give anything to trade places with her. She was the one who should have lived, not him. She had finally escaped the clutches of first class, only to have her second chance ripped from her grasp. Suddenly he couldn't breathe, his chest tightened and tears cascaded down his pale washed out cheeks. He was shivering despite the many blankets he was wrapped in and his heart pounded in his chest. Helena came rushing back. "Mr. Dawson! My goodness, your temperature is dropping again, I'll fetch you another blanket!"

Jack slowly calmed down, his breath coming in short pants. Helena returned with yet another blanket and placed it on top of the numerous others while telling him that he'll have to stay put for another two days. Jack sighed and closed his eyes. His thoughts were occupied by memories of Rose. Although they only met four days ago, it felt more like an entirely different lifetime. Jack let his mind wander through the three fleeting days he spent with Rose. He could still feel the wind through his hair and his lips pressed to hers as they stood at the bow of Titanic. He remembered the relief of feeling her hand in his climbing back over the rail on that first night. But the panic in his chest that ensued when she slipped and almost fell to her death, was something he was likely to never forget. How ironic it was, that her death came only nights later, only this time it was truly undesired.

When Jack looked back on the past few days, it seemed unfathomable and impossible. Titanic was built to withstand anything, they had said. Supposedly, God himself couldn't sink it. How unfortunately wrong they were. It's untimely demise, the cause of too much death and destruction, left him reeling from the loss of Rose. The thought that she would never drink beer with him, or ride the roller coasters in Santa Monica with him tore at his heart. He would have brought her to Chippewa Falls, shown her Lake Wissota, the place where he fell into frozen waters.

When Jack was finally released, three days after boarding Carpathia, three days after the tragic sinking of Titanic, and most importantly, three days after losing Rose, he decided to start his day by walking to bow of the ship. Even three days after losing her, Jack felt no better. He felt as if every corner he turned, every person who passed, Rose would step in front of him and tell him how much he scared her, how she thought she had lost him. That didn't happen. At the bow of the ship everything seemed so much smaller. The white capped waves could be mistaken for ripples, and the port holes below him could be mistaken for marks on the metal sides. Everything about Carpathia seemed less than Titanic. The wind that whipped through his hair didn't feel the same as it had when he stood in the same place, only on a different, better ship with Fabritzio, and then Rose. The ship seemed to be painted a duller metallic colour than Titanic's deep black and brilliant red with pristinely painted white railings.

Jack knew loss better than most people his age. After the tragic deaths of his family, and now his best friend and his lover, Jack felt empty. He decided that his luck came in spurts of ridiculously good and terribly bad with no in between. Winning the tickets onto Titanic, meeting Rose, and then losing her and his best friend only days later proved that. Jack stood at the bow of Carpathia for hours, lost in thought and reminiscing about Rose. He missed her so much. Their time together, however short it was, left him wanting more each time they parted. It hurt him to know that he would never get more time with her, no matter how much he wanted it, because her body lay at the bottom of the restless Atlantic among many others. He broke out of his reverie and turned abruptly to leave, no longer wanting be anywhere that served as a reminder that Rose was never coming back. He walked aimlessly through the ship, turning corners and down corridors that all looked the same, save the numbers on cabins telling him otherwise. When he eventually came to a stop on the Steerage deck, he sat down on an available bench, and watched the people around him. Not once did he hear laughter or see smiles, as he did on Titanic. Instead he saw tear streaked faces and frowns. He heard the sobs and cries of those who lost someone. When the ever present sense of mourning became too much for him Jack vacated his seat and wandered towards the back of the ship. As he walked he passed passengers of Carpathia who watched him walk by with a look of pity prominent on their faces.

When he reached the stern of the ship a woman came into view, startling him so much that his voice escaped him. Her hair, a fiery red that looked like it hadn't been washed in days, came into view and Jack's breath caught. She wore the same simple dress she had been wearing on their last night together. Even from behind, he could tell it was her. When she started to climb over the railing, it confused him. What on earth was she doing? When it finally clicked with him that she intended to end her life, again, Jack jumped forward and blurted out the only thing that came to mind. "You jump, I jump, remember Rose?"

Her head whipped around, shock apparent on her face. "Jack? Is that really you?"

"Yes, Rose. It really is me." Jack smiled and reached out to her. "Here, give me your hand." He said, and helped her over the railing. Once both her feet were on the deck, she was in Jacks arms, crying into his shirt.

"I thought you were dead, Jack. I let you go. I watched your face disappear. I couldn't live without you. I didn't want to live without you." She hiccuped.

"It's okay now, Rose. I'm alive. I was saved too." Jack reassured her.