April 18th, 1912

The ocean was supposed to be a relaxing place. A place you could run to, escape to, whenever you felt the need. Rose had always heard people talk of the wondrous healing powers of the sea, when one with a clouded mind could simply sit and gaze at the blue-green waves for however long they like, and when they were finished, all their problems would be magically solved, just like that. Some of the even more pompous idiots her Mother had forced her to socialize with would try to impress the young woman, only 17, with their "vast" knowledge of the world and everything within it, one even tried to convince her that the ocean had a strong ability of simplifying the mind, bringing it back to it's center. "Nature always makes man feel at home," the prude would say, after a couple glasses of brandy, of course. She had tried to be polite, nod and smile warmly to the best of her ability, but eventually ended up walking away, rolling her eyes, and shaking her head before seeking out a waiter carrying around trays piled neatly with flutes of champagne and downing it in one large, certainly un-lady-like gulp.

But he was wrong, oh so very wrong. For though she sat straight, gazing at the mass of water below and in front of her as far as her eyes could reach, there was a battle raging over her emotions. On one side, a heavy mass of exhaustion was creeping over every muscle in her body, making her want nothing more than to lay her curly head down on the hard, cold bench she was sitting on and let unconsciousness wash over her like the sensation of slipping down into a tub of warm water. On the other, the waves gently crashing into the boat beneath her were giving her the greatest sense of uneasiness she had ever felt in her entire life. It was all a huge façade, those waves. Sure, here they sit, lapping against this boat like the tongue of a happy little puppy, occasionally rocking the steamer as it propelled further. But these were nothing like the waves that swallowed the greatest ship in the world, just three or so days ago, and pushed her down, down through the black abyss and onto the invisible sea floor.

But now a third party had just entered the war, and with it came a whole range of different feelings that she normally wouldn't feel throughout the course of a day let alone all at once. Sadness, guilt, fury, mourning, and anything similar were among the soldiers.

The sound of soft footsteps approaching was enough to snap her back to reality, but not enough to make her turn to see who it was. She knew who it would be. She felt a vibration as the figure sat down with a thud next to her, heaving a great sigh as they did.

"Rose?" The man next to her spoke ever so softly, so soft in fact that though the deck around them was fairly crowded with others who also seemed to be gazing out to sea mournfully, no one could hear his voice.

"Rose, they're serving out soup now for lunch. Do you want any?"

Rose turned her head towards the man and at once took in his facial features. His eyes were pale, crystal blue, the color she would have always thought the sky should be, but rarely was. His hair, which lay limp and stringy across the top of his head, blew softly with the passing wind. His skin, which used to be tanned from working in all kinds of different conditions on his travels, was now pale and almost sickly-looking, much like hers.

This man was Jack Dawson, and this was the man who had saved her life on more than one occasion.

And, who Rose was truly, deeply, and passionately, in love with.

Realizing that she was staring a bit too long and hard at his concerned face, she focused again and nodded her head fervently. Concern, however, was splashed across his handsome features.

He stood with an exhausted sigh and held out his hand to help her up as well. Rose, however, suddenly felt a strong pull to stay right where she was, rooted to the bench on the starboard side of the Carpathia.

"Would you mind bringing a bowl back to me?" She asked quickly, but politely. "I don't really feel like getting up." She added a weak smile and even weaker laugh at the end to make herself sound a bit more at ease than she actually was. Jack, however, clearly wasn't buying it. He let his hand fall back to his side. A small, reassuring smile graced the lower half of his face, but didn't quite reach his eyes.

"No problem." He turned and walked away. Rose suddenly felt immensely more guilty than she already did. He already was worried about her, why did she have to make it any worse by acting like she didn't want to talk to him but was too polite to say so?

He probably thinks I hate him.

Suddenly her heart dove deep down into her stomach, and she felt as if someone had suddenly replaced the blood pumping throughout her veins with ice water. She loved him so much, insanely so, seeing as she had only known him for only a couple of days. Now just wasn't the right time for her to show it, especially because so many others around her were grieving the loss of their loved ones, mostly women. She couldn't do that. It would only add to the now-constant growing pile of guilt that was filling her heart and soul.

Just then, her heart seemed to take another flying leap right into the base of her throat, every nerve in her body was now standing on end, waiting for her mind to catch up with her intuition.

"You won't find any of your people back here, sir, it's all steerage."

Rose slowly turned her neck to the right, only to see the what would have been 1 on her list of people she never wanted to see again. A man in his mid-30's, looking quite disheveled considering his attire was fancy dinner-ware, was pushing past a steward and now looking under the many shawls and blankets that dotted the deck of Carpathia, his eyes looking near frantic. Rose, fear quickly seeping in, adjusted her blanket, making sure that it covered her whole head of fiery red hair before casually slouching her posture and looking back out to sea.

God, please let that soup line be long. She thought desperately, saying several quiet prayers in her head, not only trying to prevent herself being seen, but Jack being seen as well.

Suddenly, the distinct foot steps of Cal Hockley were mere feet behind the bench she was sitting on. She felt her whole body stiffen, and the hair on the back of her neck stand straight up. She stayed absolutely still, letting the foot steps pass slowly behind her before moving past her. She saw him look curiously at another woman with similar colored hair before turning, defeated, and thudded briskly up the stairs leading to the area where those of higher classes were placed, and knew she was safe.

Rose felt as though she had been holding her breath that entire time, which she probably was, and let it out with a great sigh. It seemed her heart had returned to it's original position and had finally started beating normally again, much to her relief. Caledon Hockley was finally, finally, out of her life. Some of the large weight that was pressing down on her conscious had felt like it was starting to break away from the rest of the mass, and was slowly but surely starting to lift itself out and away, throwing itself into the shadowy water beneath.

Good riddance. She thought triumphantly.

"Dinner is served." Jack came back into view several moments later as he slid onto the bench and handed her a chipped white bowl with steam blowing steadily off the top.

"Thank you." She said meaningfully, glancing quickly up at his face before returning her gaze to the very warm bowl now heating up her palms. With a creak, Jack seated himself on the bench close enough to Rose that the side of his leg was pressed against hers, but once noticing the distance, or lack there of, scooted back in the opposite direction about an inch or two. Rose did the same, feeling defeated after her lucky near-encounter with the one man she was sure she would hate for the rest of her life. She quickly decided not to tell Jack about any of it, knowing it would only put more stress on him, and he simply couldn't afford that.

Afford. The word rang loud and clear in her head. How were they going to afford anything once they got off the ship? She had no money on her, and the ten bucks Jack said he had to his name surely wouldn't do them much good when it came to looking for a place to stay. Rose thoughts continued to run on their nervous rampage, searching desperately for a solution somewhere within the depths of her brain. She hastily took a sip from the bowl that was a little bit too warm for her liking in her hands, before realizing that it was scalding the inside of her mouth. Her throat was burning, along with the inside of her nostrils, and her eyes started to water on top of everything else.

"Rose, hey, I know the soup isn't nearly as good as you're used to, but is it really that bad?" He asked in a joking matter, patting the space below her shoulder blades gently, but firm. It seemed is if she was a porcelain doll, and he was afraid that if he touched her too hard or at a weak point she might shatter into a million places, even though sometimes, she did feel that way. Rose's coughing finally subsided and she cleared her throat loudly, preparing to speak.

"I sipped that a little too quickly, I suppose." She said embarrassedly, with a chuckle. She looked at him again, but this time held his gaze. She felt is if she was pulled into a different world every time she looked into his eyes. Jack's hand had stopped patting her back and was now motionless, so that if passersby were to glance at the dreary-looking couple it would seem as if he were comforting her. After gazing into each others eyes for what seemed like an eternity, Rose dropped hers to the bowl in her hands and pursed her lips.

"Jack," she murmured, concentrating deeply on the vegetables floating around in the murky waters of her soup. "How are we going to afford living in New York?" Jack's hand from her back and made a loud slapping noise on the bench. Rose, shocked, looked up at him again only to find that he was staring out at the water, much like she was earlier in the day. He looked shocked, but most of all, brilliantly happy.

"Are you saying you wanna come live with me?" He asked, his eyes were twinkling, as if he couldn't believe what he, himself, was saying.

Rose shrugged her shoulders as if to say 'I guess so.' "Wherever that is, yes. I told you on Titanic that I was getting off with you, didn't I?" She was now taking on that playful, cocky attitude that she had used so frequently when they would joke around with each other.

"Yeah, but look what happened right after that. I guess you could say I got a little distracted."

"What, by my kissing expertise, or by that 10 ton iceberg that the ship we were standing on ran straight in to?" Jack chuckled at this, and Rose grinned her brilliant white smile.

"So, is that a yes, or a no?" She inquired, dropping the first-class tone she was using.

"Oh. Well, I'd have to think about it. My things take up a lot of space, ya know."

Rose snorted. "I think, as of right now, neither of us has any "things."

"You're probably right." He added with a grin.

"Always am." She replied confidently, pointing her dainty nose into the air and shifting her eyes downward so that they met with his. Jack smirked and laughed again softly, keeping his eyes locked with hers. The wind had suddenly picked up slightly, blowing some of Rose's matted curls into her face and the blanket off the top of her head. Jack carefully tucked one curl back behind her ear and let his hand lay there, letting his thumb trace her jaw line and the rest of his fingers cup her neck. His gaze was so intent now, she thought that she would crumble into oblivion if he held it any longer. She took her arms then and wrapped them around his neck loosely, intertwining her fingers with the hair on the back of his head. Jack swallowed suddenly, almost nervously, she could see his Adam's apple bob up and down in his throat as he did.

"You know, you're so beautiful, it almost hurts."

Rose could feel a broad smile unconsciously spread on her face, and her heart fluttered within her chest.

"And you are such a good liar, it's almost ridiculous."

Jack pretended to be taken aback. "Would I ever lie to you?"

"I don't know, would you?"

"Let's make a deal, then. Every time I tell the truth, I get a kiss."

"But how would I know if you're telling the truth?"

"Because, I'd do this." Jack planted a kiss on the apple of her right cheek. "You're beautiful." Another on her forehead. "You're beautiful." On the tip of her nose. "You're beautiful." Quickening the pace after each one, Rose began to giggle as he kissed random spots all over her face before settling on her lips, where he lingered slightly longer than the rest. While their lips still held contact, Jack managed to mumble, "You're beautiful," sending vibrations through Rose that started at the point of contact before spreading through the rest of her body like wildfire. She started to laugh and pulled away, resting her forehead on his shoulder.

"Sounds like a deal. Though, may I make a suggestion?"

"Suggestions are welcome."

"You need a shave."

Jack literally laughed out loud before lowering his voice so as to not disturb the sullen atmosphere around them.

"What, you don't like my stubble?"

"No, it tickles me."

"Oh, so you're ticklish?"

Rose pursed her lips, trying to hold a straight face. "No, of course not."

"Who's the liar now?"

"Jack, no. We can't. Not here." She said, suddenly serious. Her eyes quickly taking in the scene around her. "It's bad enough what happened, I don't want to be rude." Jack leaned back against the bench, feeling the happiness that was welling within him simmer down considerably.

"You're right." He said with a sigh.

But then he was staring at her again, in that way that only he could. She could feel his icy blue eyes boring into the side of her face. She could tell that she had hurt his feelings. But, she really couldn't find it in her to explain why she had so suddenly broken away, hopefully he would understand.

[ 3 ]

They sat that way for a long time, Jack slumped over with his head in his hands while his elbow rested on his knee, keeping his eyes locked on the soggy deck beneath their feet, and Rose, with her knees to her chest and her arms locked tightly around her shins. Every now and again, she would glance at Jack pleadingly, hoping that the sunshine that usually lit up his face would return and bring happiness and hope for their future to her. But, it didn't happen. Nothing happened. The waves of the ocean around them still brushed against the side of the Carpathia, and the sun had managed to set covered in a veil of gray clouds into the inky horizon. Now that she thought about it, Rose figured it had to be around 8 or 9 o'clock, seeing as dinner was usually served around 7, (they had to serve the real passengers aboard the Carpathia first, of course).

Though the sun hadn't provided her with much warmth that day anyway, once it was gone, there was definitely more of a chill to the air. She wasn't quite to the point of shivering, but Rose knew that if the temperature dropped just one more degree, or the wind picked up in the slightest bit, she wouldn't be able to stop. Nowadays, she felt permanently cold, almost as if her skin had retained the icy waters she was submerged in, no matter how many blankets were wrapped around her. But she shouldn't think about that, she really shouldn't. She was one of the lucky ones who had survived, one of the very few lucky ones in fact, of those who had been exposed to the icy waters of the North Atlantic Ocean, just 3 days ago. Trying desperately to get her mind on to something else, she let her knees down and arched her back, feeling an ache already starting to form in her lower back. Great, just what she needed. Looking around, she noticed not all the survivors in this section of the boat were as glum as she thought they were, some were even chatting quietly with each other, some even laughing at jokes Rose was too tired to try to listen too. She could see children playing games like Duck-Duck-Goose and tag, in fact, almost no one around her looked depressed or down, they at least looked like they were trying to be happy, anyway. Most had probably been through so much in their lives already, after all, she was in the steerage section. Rose just couldn't seem to understand how they could bounce back so quickly, until she thought back to Jack's words that night at dinner on the Titanic.

Make each day count.

That would have to be her new philosophy for life. These people actually made it look easy.

Rose then noticed the upper levels of the deck, and saw with disgust, members of first class walking by and either looking at the lot of them with great pity or covering their noses and looking away as if they were passing a herd of smelly cows. Typical. Her eyes then fell on the café that gave out the soup to the third class after everyone else aboard was fed. Looking through the shiny glass, she could see ladies and gentlemen in their fancy dinner clothes sitting up perfectly straight, their backs stiff as boards, talking politely to each other while sipping wine out of expensive looking crystal and taking the tiniest bites of the vast plateau of desserts laid out before them.

Are you sure this is the life you want, Rose? She asked herself, reminding her very much of her mother. Studying the various assortments of platters and dishes on the deck above, she realized her diet would probably now consist of what it had been exposed to these last couple days: cheap, runny soup. That wouldn't be the only thing, though. Her clothes wouldn't be the same, thinking back on it, she then realized that at this very moment, she had no clothes at all, nothing but the clothes covering her frail body. She would have no thick, fluffy covers to crawl under every night, no maid to attend to her every will. She would have nothing, absolutely nothing that she was used to.

Rose hadn't thought about this the night she told Jack she was getting off with him, or earlier that afternoon when she confirmed that she definitely would, as long as she was with him.

"Because nothing else matters." She realized too late that she had murmured this thought aloud. Jack suddenly seemed to snap out of his trance and looked up at her with questioning eyes.

"Hmm?"

"Oh, erm, nothing." She said hastily, instantly feeling like a fool afterwards. But, it wasn't like she could tell him what she actually was thinking of, anyway. She didn't think he could handle that much more disappointment.

Back to the issue at hand, Rose thought, being with Jack was all that mattered to her right now. Surely his love for her and her love for him would make up for a lot of things that she would have to go without for the rest of her life. It's not like she really needed all of that stuff anyway, they were just luxuries. Sure, she'd probably long for it from time to time but it certainly wouldn't affect her so much as to make her leave Jack and go back to her life with Mother and Cal. Nothing in this world would make her want to resort to that. She could definitely go without the fancy clothes, yes, they were pretty, but they were so uncomfortable. That corset? Ugh, she was glad it was probably rotting at the bottom of the ocean at this very moment. Her hair, well, it probably won't be as neat as it usually was from now on, but she could always learn how to fix her own hair. It couldn't be impossible. And food? She could figure out how to make her own delicious food, Jack surely knew a bunch of different tips and tricks after living several years on his own. Solutions to every dilemma that popped into her brain after that were quickly conjured up, leaving Rose feel a bit lighter and very satisfied. She could make it out in this strange new world that was fast approaching, and she would do it with Jack by her side.

"I think we'll be in New York in a little bit." Jack said quietly, breaking Rose out of her train of thought.

"Really?" Rose asked curiously, lifting her head to scan the surrounding waters. "Time flies."

"Can I ask you something?" Jack asked, unexpectedly. The anxiousness in his voice was easily detectable, and Rose turned to him the minute she picked up on it.

"Of course. Anything."

Jack waited several minutes before looking up at her for the first time in a long time, his eyes stern. "Rose, just because I'm the only man you've slept with, doesn't mean you have to pity me enough to come live in a place you don't want to." He looked at her calmly, even though his words were telling a much different story.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" She snapped.

"Look, Rose, I get it. You were feeling trapped by your Mother and Cal and needed a cheap thrill. And I guess I gave you one. You don't have to stick around me and be miserable if you don't want to."

"You're unbelievable."

"I'm unbelievable? Rose, I have feelings for you, feelings I've never had for any other girl in my whole entire life. I need to know. Are you doing this because you want to, or are you doing this because you feel like you have to?"

"How could you even ask me that, Jack? You honestly believe that I don't have feelings for you either?" Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Rose cut him off. "I'm giving up my whole life just to be with you. I thought that was what you wanted."

"What I want? This isn't about what I want, Rose. This is about you, it's all up to you. It's your life, Rose, not mine."

"I'm not some whore that goes sleeping around with men whenever she needs a 'cheap thrill,' Jack. You opened my eyes to a whole new world, and I want to stay in it, but not unless you're right by my side. Maybe, I really was unhappy with my life with Cal. Being in first class isn't all it's cracked up to be. And yes, you're probably thinking 'poor little rich girl.. Blah blah blah," Rose felt the familiarity of the words she had just spoken wash over her for a moment before starting again. She took in a deep breath, looked down into her lap, and smiled the tiniest bit. "But you know what, I'm not that little rich girl anymore, Jack. I'm an independent woman now, I've been thinking about the life ahead of me all day and I've come to the conclusion that as stubborn and spoiled as I may be, I need you. Whether you like it or not. And not just because we've slept together." Rose finished her little rant confidently, clearly trying to prove to Jack that this was what she really wanted, even though she thought that they had already established that earlier in the day. Jack seemed to be thinking it over, and took a long, hard look at her before saying softly:

"I just don't want you to think that you have to stay with me Rose. Not only just because we've slept together, and I've drawn you naked, and we spent a whole evening running away from your crazy dip shit of a fiancé-"

"Ex-fiancé," she interjected.

"Yeah. Well, I know I've got you thinking about making each day count and living your life to the absolute fullest, which I know you can do Rose. That fire inside you is never gonna burn out now. You're a free bird. I just don't want you to feel like just because we've been through so much together, that you feel like you have to stick with me. Because you don't Rose, and as much as I'd like you to, hell, I'd love it if you would, you don't have to. And I would completely understand if, once this boat docks, you run off this damn ship and we never see each other again. As much as I would hate it, I would understand."

"Jack Dawson, you are by far the most ridiculous person I've met in a long, long time." Jack sat there looking at her with the most dumbfounded expression she'd ever seen on his face. "You honestly believe that I would do that? After all, all this crazy shit that's happened, you think I would simply say goodbye and run off into the sunset, all by myself?"

Jack looked at her as if to say, "Well, yeah." Even though it pained him to think about it.

"You're crazy."

"That's what everyone says."

They shared a smile and a small laugh together before Rose looked at him seriously again.

"When this ship docks, I'm getting off with you. No ifs, ands, or buts."

She took his hand in hers and intertwined their fingers together. "Sorry Mr. Dawson, but you're stuck with me now." She scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I do love you, though. If that helps."

"It does." He kissed her lightly on top of the head before resting his head on hers. "Well Ms. DeWitt Bukater, I believe we have some business to attend to."

"And what would that be, Mr. Dawson?"

"Getting off this damn ship." he replied with a smile, and just as he said so, the Carpathia passed by one of the most breathtaking sights Rose had ever seen in her life. The Statue of Liberty, in all of it's glory, stood tall and majestic through the dark night sky and now steadily pouring rain, which Rose hadn't noticed until just about a second ago.

As the sink finally settled itself into Pier 54, Jack and Rose walked hand in hand through the crowds both on and off the ship, along with the annoying banter of the reporters eagerly awaiting the few survivors of the Titanic disaster . After they had finally gotten through the small hustle and bustle that didn't compare much to the rest of the city, Rose stopped in her tracks and looked around wondrously, hardly believing that she had actually made it. She had escaped Cal's menacing embrace, her Mother's dreadful influence, and the ever watchful eyes of all of first class society, and she was here with Jack in New York City, of all places. And they were alive and well, as far as either was concerned. She simply couldn't believe it, but was still quite proud of herself at the same time. She could feel the spark within her sputter and grow into a tiny flame and could tell that it would one day grow into a roaring fire, something that she would have a hard time containing, not that she wanted to anyway.

"Hey," Jack interrupted her awe-inspiring thoughts that seemed to be parading inside her like a stampede of elephants. "Welcome to the world."