HEARTS CAN BREAK
Chapter Fifteen

Rose took a huge breath, allowing the air to seep into her chest and inflate her lungs. She hung onto Jack's hand for dear life as he stood momentarily, as if trying to escape fate. There was no escape.

The last thing she remembered before the water hit was thinking--no, no, no, please. Jack, save me--and then there was nothing.

The blackness surrounded her like death. She struggled weakly against the suction of the sea, pulling her down with the ship, but then she felt the cold.

The cold. It pierced her skin like steel daggers and drove straight into her very soul. The ocean seeped into her gown and she could barely think, save for what Jack had said, the pain. Needles shot themselves into her brain and all of a sudden it was like her body stopped functioning. She was going insane with the freezing temperature. She wanted to die. She wanted to be killed...

"Kick for the surface and keep kicking! Do not let go of my hand."

Somehow, his words fought into her blaring mind and she remembered. Jack was here. They had to make it together.

She was getting tired. The Atlantic was far stronger than she and, she thought as she painfully forced her eyes open against the salt, it had already taken Titanic. The hull of the liner was falling away. The last she saw of it was the ship's name in yellow lettering. It had once looked so proud, so majestic, so mighty, so true. Now all she was was a defeated feat in the eyes of God. The almighty, vast Titanic was dead.

Jack flailed beneath her, trying to swim to the surface. He was running out of air and his lungs threatened to explode. It was worse than being frozen through or having ice packed into his body. Everything hurt, like spears being plunged into his heart. It had been cold on the ship. He had known it was going to be cold in the actual sea. But this...this was insane. He couldn't focus his mind on Rose or the lifeboats. All he could think was, bitterly, So this is the end, Dawson. You thought you could save her. You thought you could live a life with someone you truly loved. But here you are, responsible for this glorious angel's death, in water so cold it must be frozen hell itself, your soul and brain and heart evaporating into solid sheets of frost. You really are a drowned gutter rat.

No! Another section fought back. No! It isn't gonna happen this way! Not to you! Not to Rose! God, not to Rose! You better battle to that surface!

He kicked hard against the pull of black water. He managed to grab Rose's lifebelt so that they would not be separated and he attempted to drag her to the world above. Her hair swirled in soaked curls around her head. He tried to motion to her to swim harder.

All it took was that split second that he let go of her. A particularly strong draft caught him and, before he had a chance to react, he was yanked from Rose and deeper into the ocean.

He tried to grab her hand, but she couldn't reach him. The last thing he saw was Rose feeling into the water, groping for him, terrified. Her mouth opened and she tried to scream, but all that came out was a stream of bubbles.

And then he was sucked too deep to see her.

His lungs were now ripping open. He hadn't had air for far too long. It petrified him when he tried to think of Rose lying still, cold, and alone in this icy hell. How could he let himself be separated from her? He was lost in guilt as he was dragged down and down...

You have to make sure she survives. You have to make sure the woman you love survives, Jack Dawson. What kind of filth are you, giving up on her like this? She braved everything to be with you, and you are quitting? Your parents would be ashamed. Do you love Rose DeWitt Bukater or not?

Suddenly he was throbbing in the voice of himself. How could he do this? He became so angry with himself that he wanted to stab himself thousands of times over. Rose didn't deserve him to act like this, especially not now. He did love her and he would love her ‘til the end of time.

As he thought this, the draft pulling him into the deep suddenly released its hold. He couldn't see the surface, but he immediately took the opportunity and kicked, harder than he ever had in his life. The awesome power of the cold was knocking him senseless, but he knew he had to fight to Rose.

Finally, finally, he broke the sheet of water and gulped in freezing breaths of penetrating air, air that stung his face. Suddenly, he was so cold he felt like he was on fire, the prickling and tearing feeling ripping through his skin.

The new sight that greeted his eyes horrified him beyond words. So many hundreds of bodies were thrashing in the terrifyingly dark, empty horizon. The screams--he thought he would go mad from the screams. The devil himself would have begged for mercy upon listening to the screams. He heard screams for family members, for salvation, for God's deliverance from the freezing hell. For a moment, he couldn't move, couldn't think.

And then it hit him. Was Rose joining in the screams? Was she in that much pain? Petrified for her, he fought bravely to swim. Everything melted together until the only thing that made sense was his love for Rose. That was the only thing he could cling to.

He shoved things out of his way--deck chairs, an elaborately carved door, people--all the time shouting the name that he was afraid he would never hear again. "Rose? Rose? Rose!"

He began to sink into numb despair when he realized how many people there truly were. Over a thousand, there had to be. If only he could find her! Just as his mouth opened again, a splash a few meters from him caused him to turn instinctively.

Rose DeWitt Bukater surfaced from the water, her skin sickly tints of white, blue, and purple, iced breath streaming from her ripe, now transparent lips. A man was trying to clamber on her to use as a flotation device. The pain and shrieks were obviously driving him mad.

Jack was still with shock until he heard that sweet, angelic voice that sounded as though on bird's wings. "Jack!"

He kicked harder than he had underwater, more desperate than he ever had been. "Rose," he murmured softly. In seconds, he was beside her, trying to pull her away from the person suffocating her. However, the man would not let go.

Jack was freezing. His body was tangled in ice. But his blood had never boiled as hot as it did in this moment. His cold, raw hands balled quickly into fists. "Get off her!" he yelled frantically. "Get off her!"

As quick as lightning, his hands slammed into the man's head three times without warning. He was shaken off and Jack's love managed to draw in a deep breath.

"Jack," she murmured, making his name sound like a breath from heaven. He took her hand and pulled her closer to him.

"Swim, Rose!" he exclaimed. "I need you to swim!"

He hooked his fingertips around the straps of her lifebelt and began to drag her through the water. Every body part seemed frozen as he somehow managed to kick his way through the calm, now silent ruffles of water, shoving items out of the way as he did so. He fought against it all--the current, his strength, the bitter cold--and the death. He felt like he was waging a war against hell itself, and so desperately losing. His movements became sluggish and slow as his body began to tire. No, he thought fiercely. I cannot give up. I just can't do it! For Rose...for Rose...

Rose's weight became heavier on his tingling arm. She was trying to swim but was growing exhausted and depending more on him. He heard her sharp intakes of painful breath behind him. "It's so cold," she gasped, her voice hardly more than a sigh of a moan across the blackness that seemed to stretch forever.

He knew it was cold. He couldn't think anymore. Everything was becoming blurry. As he pushed a man out of his path, a man Jack swore was dead, he managed to shout back, "Keep swimmin'!" There was no answer except the harder kicks of his love. His love--what bitter, taunting words. He finally was in love. He had found not only the woman of his dreams, but his soulmate--strong, independent, a companion, kind, compassionate--and had slipped into the warmth of romance's grasp in just a few short days, becoming completely embedded in passion's palm mere hours ago.

Jack Dawson and Rose DeWitt Bukater--it was fate, more than he could have wished for. In his mind's eye, he could still see the rich orange and purple light dazzling on those fiery red curls and shimmering in every fold of the blue fabric. He could see the turquoise eyes shining at him, sheened with love, and the golden tint of creamy white skin. He could feel a spirit of liberty, a song of freedom, lifting them up higher and higher, past the sunset and into destiny, carrying them over melted waves and under soft lavender clouds--

And now it was over. Love--what a cruel, cruel word. For finally, he had understood love at first sight, had experienced such a deep passion it terrified him. Finally, he had realized what life was about.

But he would have to sacrifice his own life for another.

They reached the door Jack had seen earlier. He was shocked that no one else had claimed it--then again, no one was thinking clearly. He was amazed he was still thinking clearly.

"Here." He tried to yell so she could hear him over the screams, but his own voice was barely a groan. "Here. Get on it. Get on top."

Rose heard him speak but didn't register what he was referring to until she felt it bump against her shoulder--a solid wood door that would raise them from the ocean. She had never imagined this kind of cold.

Daddy, her heart whispered. Daddy, you can't even dream of the pain I'm in right now. If he wasn't here--I don't know what I'd do. I love him, Daddy. I love him.

She felt Jack's arms scoop up her body to lift her onto the block. For a moment, she just relaxed there, unwilling to leave his firm, warm, and reassuring embrace. Everything about him was so strong and perfect...how could she have said those hurtful things in the gymnasium? How could she have ever entertained Cal instead of Jack? How?

She didn't have the strength for regrets. Desperate to hear his heartbeat, she laid her head against his chest. The comforting beat was growing slow now. She trembled harder, and not just from the cold.

"C'mon, Rose." His voice floated to her, panicking to get her out of the sea. "Get on."

Reluctantly, she began to haul herself up onto the door. Her energy was dwindling and it was all she could do to kick herself out of the mighty Atlantic. She could feel his broad hands guiding her, the bitter frost, and the pain. Some said that in freezing temperatures you go numb. Rose knew otherwise. Every part of her body screamed in hopeless, dark pain.

Finally, she collapsed, spent, onto the damp surface. Small black waves rolled over her body and then washed out the other side until she was balanced.

It was unbearably, unimaginably, unthinkably cold. The icy air breezed over her already frozen body. Her cheeks turned transparent and she began to shiver madly, hardly able to concentrate.

She felt weight being pulled next to her. Jack.

Without warning, the door tipped to her left. She was again thrown into the ocean. A terrified, wild scream escaped her lips. Not the water again, God, not the water...

"Stay on, stay on Rose," Jack chattered. "Stay on."

"Jack!" she gasped. He lifted her again until she lay sprawled on the door. There was no room for him. With a sigh, he accepted the unacceptable. If there was no room, he would sacrifice everything, everything, for Rose. It was his fault she was here in the first place and he loved her so, so much.

It didn't bother him, really, that he wasn't going to see another sunrise. Maybe he had lived his purpose. Or maybe...maybe this was his purpose, to save Rose DeWitt Bukater from society, Titanic, and the cold. The only thing that he was worried about was Rose. Of course, she was strong enough to survive alone, but he wouldn't be able to bear the thought of her being bitter her whole life. She had so much to offer the world--her fire, her inner beauty, her passion. She was a beautiful dove in a cage, and finally, finally, she was free.

It hit him all of a sudden. It was like a rock had slammed into him and knocked some sense into his brain. He couldn't give up on her. He just couldn't! He was in love with her, and he needed to be there to see her fly.

He leaned in closer to her, trying to give her the last of the heat radiating off his body. "Jack," she murmured again. She held onto one of his hands with all her might, clenching and unclenching her fist, stroking the smooth metal of the broken handcuffs. He pressed his forehead against her own, feeling the frozen shimmer of silver that was her sweet breath blowing around his skin. She was shaking so hard that it was all he could do to make himself make eye contact with her. Those pools of green and blue seemed like cubes of ice reflecting in the black of the night.

He caressed her fingers, knowing it was doing nothing to warm her but at the same time needing to feel her. "It'll be all right now," he managed, his voice trembling with cold. He could see relief and fear merging as one in her face. "It'll be all right now."

Chapter Sixteen
Stories